The Tattooed Tribes (30 page)

“
I was only speaking a truth. Let’s get
back to the camp. Wherever they went, it was not this
way.”

There was a
rustling sound and some earth came trickling down between the
leaves. In the shadows Lucien raised his rifle to his shoulder,
signalling to the others to remain as they were.

From above
them there came a long, melodic call, which was answered from
further up the valley. Eventually there was the sound of greetings
being exchanged and it was obvious the earlier hurting party had
been called back.

The last thing
heard was the distant sound of Frain’s voice raised in ire, “I told
you, I’ll get you more! Now shut the fuck up.”

No-one on the
ledge moved or made a sound for a long time. Then Vlic, whose
hearing was acute, relaxed and nodded to the others.

“
Gone,” he whispered.

Lucien went to
check on Jon, he was awake, but his eyes were little more than
slits in the swollen, battered mass that was his face.

“
You’re doing well,” he reassured
Lucien.

“
Maybe,” Lucien agreed. “Do you need
another shot?”

Jon turned a
weary head towards Wainwright. Stacey was bathing his head with a
damp cloth torn from a spare shirt. He looked feverish and was
obviously in a great deal of pain.

“
Save it for him,” Jon replied. “I’ll be
fine.”

It rained
again late in the afternoon, giving them a second chance to drink
their fill and replenish the canteens. It continued to shower until
the sun began to sink and long shadows filled the valley.

There was
comfort in knowing there was no chance of the hunters finding them
under cover of night, but it was daunting to face the long hours of
darkness without the comfort of heat or light, and nothing to fill
their hungry bellies.

It stopped
raining sometime during the dark hours, but the damp and the chill
had done its worst. Lucien and Vlic rubbed heat into their numb
arms and legs, while Brigedh worked on the cramp in Stacey’s leg.
She had been kneeling by her father all night long, doing her best
to keep him alive.

One glance
told Lucien she might be fighting a losing battle, but he did not
say anything. He and Dr Riddett’s eyes met briefly and he thought
he might have seen remorse there, but he had no time or inclination
to consider the matter.

Jon, younger
and fitter, had come through the darkness in a better condition,
but was far from well and his broken ribs caused him a lot of
pain.

“
Try not to move,” Lucien
advised.

“
Believe me,” Jon replied. “I’m trying.
Watch yourself today, son. It’s been a bit too easy until now. I’ve
a feeling it’s going to get harder.”

Lucien nodded
and moved over to Vlic’s side.

“
I hoped dad would be here by now,” Vlic
admitted.

“
Me, too,” Lucien replied. “Jon thinks
we’ve been lucky so far.”

The sun rose
higher and higher into the sky and the vegetation began to steam in
the heat. Under the canopy the temperature rose and sweat poured
down their faces.

Wainwright,
already heated by a low fever, became more and more restless,
tossing and turning until his wound opened again and blood stained
what was left of his shirt and bandage.

Jon was also
suffering, but he was still.

“
We need more water,” Stacey whispered,
coming over from her place by her father. “Dad is …”

She stopped as
Lucien put a finger to his lips, instantly quiet, straining to hear
what made Lucien alert. Vlic cupped his ear and then signalled
up.

The sound came
from the ridge above them, someone was there humming to himself as
he went. There was no melody, just the steady drone of someone who
may once have known the words and possibly even the tune, but can
no longer quite remember how it went. Had he been asked, Lucien
would have said the hummer was a contented drunk.

He paused and
there was a thump and a grunt as if he had fallen. Then there was a
small avalanche of earth, stones and leaf litter; whoever he was,
he was coming down the slope and not trying to hide his
descent.

For one
glorious moment Lucien wondered if it was Iesgood, but there was a
curse followed by a high-pitched giggle, and hope died.

They sank
deeper into their hole, pushing themselves as far back as possible.
Lucien could hear Dr Riddett’s breathing, short and shuddering; he
reached out and took one of her hands, giving it a reassuring
squeeze.

There was another curse and then one of
the
Niifliinling
passed them, half sliding, and half tumbling to the
bottom.

He had a
canteen in one hand and was obviously in search of water, but he
lay by the stream for a while giggling and struggling to rise.

Lucien
recognised the signs of dust; the man had taken enough to be only
partly in control, but not enough to conveniently fall and drown
himself in the water.

He got to his
feet and scrambled around on the bank for a while, slipping and
sliding on the wet vegetation. He finally picked his way,
alternatively cursing and giggling, over the soft ground until he
found somewhere to kneel and fill his canteen.

When it was
full enough to satisfy him, he stumbled to his feet. He swayed for
a second or two before turning. The momentum made him lean
backwards and as he did so he looked straight up and his eyes went
immediately to their hiding place and he saw everything under the
canopy.

He seemed
surprised for a second, swaying back and forth as he tried to get
his balance and allow his brain to work out what his eyes were
seeing.

Suddenly a
wide grin spread over his face and he opened his mouth to let out a
triumphant whooping yell.

The sound
never left his mouth.

Lucien shot
him clean in the face; he fell backwards into the river and laid
there, a gaping hole in his forehead, blood flowing from the exit
wound in the back of his head. All around him the water began to
colour scarlet.

Lucien looked
down at him dispassionately and then he vomited up what little
there was in his stomach.

Turning to
Stacey and Vlic he said, “Now we fight!”

The sound of
the rifle brought a search party fairly quickly and it did not take
them long to find the body in the water. There were exclamations of
anger and shock, but there was no co-ordinated search or even an
attempt at one.

Finally
Frain’s voice was heard. “Shut up, you fools. They’re here
somewhere. Find them!”

Without
concise orders, there was a lot of milling around and people
telling other people what to do and being ignored.

Finally, for
some strange drug-induced reason, they decided to plunge off into
the deep woods behind the ridge. There was a great deal of crashing
around, but no-one thought to investigate the overhang or even to
glance in its direction.

Inside the
defenders held their breath and gripped their weapons tightly.

Dr Riddett was
trembling, but she held her rifle ready in her lap and shut her
eyes. Her lips moved in silent prayer and to everyone’s surprise
Brigedh took one of her hands and held it, while in the other she
worked the red cord through her fingers.

After what
seemed like hours voices again came from above them.

“
We couldn’t find a trace of them,” someone
said. “They must have gone along the valley.”

“
Then get the hell down there and look!”
Frain ordered.

There was a
crash on the top of the overhang and the body of a tribesman flew
passed them and tumbled down the slope and into the water, landing
close to the body.

He clambered
to his feet, face twisted in rage, but as he turned to face Frain
he looked up as his dead fellow had and he saw them.

“
Here!” he shouted and pointed, but it was
the last thing he ever said, as an arrow shaft bloomed in his
chest. He looked down at it in surprise; then at Vlic and then he
collapsed in a boneless heap.

There was a
commotion of shouting and confusion above, but then everything went
silent and Lucien braced himself.

“
Be ready,” he whispered to Dr Riddett.
“Both of us together, on my word.”

There was a
rustling above them and a great many water droplets and bits of
leaf and twig dropped on them; someone was trying to climb down
from above.

The vine
screen sagged under the weight, bending the mass of foliage in upon
them, making it difficult to raise the weapons.

Briefly a
savagely grinning face appeared through a gap in the twisted mass
of branches and then an axe began to attack the growth. At the
other end a second one began to hack and chop.

“
Now!” Lucien said and both rifles
exploded, deafening in the confined space.

There was a
scream of pain and the sound of someone scrambling back up the bank
from one end, but at the other end the overhang suddenly sagged
even further, something heavy was caught there and not moving.
Slowly a single drop of blood appeared and dripped onto Eric
Wainwright’s feet, then another and another. The steady sound of it
dropping and splashing seemed to fill the whole space, but there
was no movement from the source.

Evandne
Riddett went green.

“
God forgive me,” she muttered, and tears
ran down her face. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“
Yes, you can!” Brigedh said firmly. “Cos
if you don’t, they’ll hurt you the way they hurt my
mummy.”

The doctor
stared at the child in bewilderment for a moment; then her jaw set
with terrible resolve and she took a firmer grip on her rifle.

Above them
they could hear the sound of angry voices, but they were staying
well back from the edge. Obviously they were a little more careful
and that suited Lucien.

Stacey
borrowed his war club and pushed it up through the vines, seeing if
she could dislodge the body pulling their cover down. At first she
made no impression, but gradually she began to move it slightly and
as gravity took hold, there was a sudden rush and a body fell
headlong into the valley. If it had been alive when it started its
journey, it certainly was not when it landed.

The canopy
shot back up to something near its original position, giving them
more space to ready their defence. It seemed unlikely another
attempt to use it as a platform would be tried, so they were all
startled when something weighty struck their roof again.

Lucien and
Vlic both swore violently and Lucien’s finger tightened on the
trigger, but whatever it was had bounced off and was rolling on
down the slope to the water.

It was a large
rock and it was followed by a succession of others. They made some
of the branches groan and many twigs and leaves cascade down on the
little group, but they did not break the thick growth and they did
not penetrate its cover either, but did create a series of holes
and through these it was possible to get glimpses of what was
happening above.

Eventually the
rocks stopped and there was the now familiar sound of someone
climbing down to investigate. At Lucien’s silent signal they
allowed him to get close.

The
investigator was wary, stopping to listen for hint of movement or
noise, but they remained silent, even Eric Wainwright, now
conscious, slowed his breathing and waited.

Jon watched
the action from his corner, his face expressionless, but his gaze
alert.

Slowly, lulled
into a false sense of security the man swung himself over the edge
and dangled there for a second or two trying to find a
foothold.

He never found
it, Stacey’s arrow slammed into his throat and with a terrible
gurgling sound he fell to join his fellows in the water below.

“
They’ll be more cautious after this,” Jon
remarked with some satisfaction.

“
I hope they’re slow learners!” Brigedh
said, her little face taut with anger and fear.

For reasons he
could not quite understand, Lucien reached over, took her hands and
kissed her palms.

“
Help’s coming, little sister, and you will
have your vengeance.”

She gazed at
him for a second, her eyes liquid with tears; then she hugged him
fiercely and went back to knotting her red cord.

There had
obviously been more discussion amongst the attackers, because the
next thing was a hail of arrows into the canopy. Most bounced off
or were caught in the vegetation, but one got through and grazed
Vlic’s arm. He gave a yip of pain, but quickly tore a strip of
cloth and bound it tight. It did not seem to overly bother him or,
if it did, he did not allow it to show.

“
Nice try!” Lucien yelled when the arrow
storm ceased. “But it didn’t work! Why don’t you come on down here
and have a look?”

“
Lucien!” Jon remonstrated. “What are you
doing?”

“
Annoying them,” Lucien replied. “Angry
people make stupid choices.”

“
Okay, but don’t overdo it.”

“
I won’t.”

It started to
rain again. Not proper rain, but a misting drizzle that made the
air wet and clung to the leaves. Perhaps it was Lucien’s
encouragement or this new irritant that prompted the attackers’
next decision. A couple of smoking faggots landed on the wet canopy
to hiss and spit and finally splutter out.

Another two
followed, but this time Lucien grabbed his war club back from
Stacey and made a hole for one to fall through.

Blowing on it
to keep it alive he gestured for Vlic to bring out the kindling
they had stored.