“Sounds like a fair question to me, Sergeant,” Caruthers said. “So tell us. What sort of deal do you want to make with Harrington?” Then through clenched teeth. “Not that I could care less. Now drop your pistol, you oaf. And before you do, I hope you don’t.”
“Don’t do it, Bob,” Harrington said. “The little mongrel’s only got one shot. While ever you’ve got a pistol in your hand, he can’t cover both of us.”
Caruthers struck with the speed of a striking snake. The heavy barrel of the pistol slammed into the side of MacLaughlin’s head.
Harrington twisted sideways and struck back with his forearm, dislodging the muzzle of the sergeant’s pistol from where it was pressed into his spine. Reflexively, the falling sergeant’s trigger finger tightened. The gun roared, and the 50-caliber ball plowed a furrow through the muscle of Harrington’s back.
Harrington grunted, staggered, and turned to find himself at the wrong end of what looked, up close, like the mouth of a canon.
“Back up into the water, or die.” Caruthers snarled.
Harrington was up to his armpits, blood spreading a red stain in the water, when Caruthers told him he’d gone far enough.
Caruthers lowered his pistol to point at the ground, turned back to the unconscious sergeant, and froze.
“I want you to know, Clive Caruthers.” Claire snagged back the hammers of the pistols she’d taken from the sergeant’s belt. “I want you to know without any semblance of doubt. I hate you more than any other creature on the face of this earth.” She leveled her right hand pistol, her finger tightened on the trigger, the hammer fell and the pan flashed, but the pistol did not fire.
“Oh, dear,” Caruthers said in mock concern. “Poor little Claire’s gun didn’t work. What are you going to do now, sweetie?”
“Blow you to hell.” Claire leveled her left-hand pistol and squeezed the trigger. Being one of the newer pistols she had taken from her uncle’s, it didn’t have a flintlock and pan. There was no visible flash from the percussion cap. The hammer fell and the pistol roared. A cloud of gray smoke erupted from the barrel, and Caruthers screamed when his left arm socket was torn apart by the heavy lead ball.
Harrington surged ashore, his arms pumping. He ran to the screaming man, snatched up the pistol he had dropped, then turned and drove his knee into Caruthers’ groin. With his free hand, Harrington snatched at the sagging man’s hair, and dragged his face into the path of another vicious, upcoming knee. Caruthers snapped upright. Harrington stepped closer, still holding him by the hair, and delivered a head butt that crumpled the little man to the ground.
When Harrington rushed to Claire’s side, she pushed his hands away. “Not now, Dennis. Check both these cretins for weapons. Then give me one of their knives. And I don’t care if it’s blunt.”
Harrington looked at her for a moment, nodded, then turned to search both men. When their weapons had been removed, Harrington manacled them together around a tree, the way they had done to him and Claire. Only this time, both men faced away from the tree. With ropes he took from the horse’s saddles, Harrington tied the men’s legs, spread-eagled, to neighboring trees.
MacLaughlin moaned when he regained consciousness and saw how he was trussed. Caruthers squealed.
“You sound like a frightened little girl,” Claire said, sliding the knife Caruthers had used on her, up the inside of his trouser leg and sawing the material apart. “But don’t worry, Clivey. If you’ve got any balls, I’ll find them. And then I’m going to cut them off, and stuff them up your arse with your dick. Unless it’s too limp. In which case, I’ll use the nearest stick.”
“That’s very inappropriate language for a lady of your class, Miss Wordsworth.” Nathaniel said, stepping into the clearing with his gun at the high port across his chest.
“It’s very appropriate when dealing with the piece of pig manure who kicked the baby out of my stomach.” Claire said.
“I understand your rage, Claire,” Nathaniel said, coming closer. “And we understand your desire for revenge. But the penalty for what these men have done must be decided by a court. Not an angry young woman.”
“There’ll be no courts involved in this.” Harrington stepped up and put his hand on Nathaniel’s arm, holding him back from going any closer. “These men know about the gold. They must not be allowed to return to society. They’ll destroy the very thing we’re trying to build, if we let them.”
Nathaniel nodded. “I understand. But you’re wrong about there being no court for them. They’ve committed horrendous crimes, here in the land of the Kooris, and against the Kooris. They murdered a young man of the Dharug people. The Dharugs have convened a council of elders, and they will judge these men, according to Koori law.”
“You can’t do this,” Caruthers screamed. “You can’t hand white men over to blacks. It’s not legal.”
Billy Pike came into Caruthers’ view. “It’s obvious to us, you brainless idiot, that you have no idea what is, or is not legal. You’re not being tried under your law this time, Mate. You’re being tried under our law.” Billy waved his arm to indicate Tunggaree, Tarrapaldi, Muchuka and Andrew, who were all stacking wood for a fire behind him. “And we are the people who will decide what to do with you.”
Caruthers looked at Nathaniel. “You said there’s to be a council of elders. They’re not elders. They’re all younger than us, except for the old black fart.”
Billy struck with the speed of lightning. He slammed the butt of his rifle into Caruthers’ face before dropping to kneel beside him, the point of his knife holding the little man’s head up. “The old man you’re talking about, Caruthers, is Tunggaree,” Billy said. “He’s the greatest Koradji in this land, and you will not be disrespectful to him. He is the judge who will decide what to do with you, after the council has heard all of the facts, and made their recommendations.”
MacLaughlin cleared his throat, “Ah, Billy, Nathaniel, if you’re going to go ahead with this kangaroo court. Can I be tried and judged separately to Lieutenant Caruthers?”
Nathaniel looked at Billy, Dennis and Claire, then turned to face MacLaughlin. “Bob, you were a good man. You did the right thing by the people you dealt with. But when you stabbed Billy’s brother, Richard, in the back, you joined the wrong team. You went along with Caruthers. You’re more than an accessory to his crimes. You will be judged with him.”
“That’s not fair,” Caruthers cried. “He took over. He threatened to shoot me if I didn’t do what he said. It was all his idea. I had no choice. I only wanted to rescue Claire from being morally defamed.”
“Shut your mouth, Caruthers. My God! You’re the moral cretin here. You’re full of more lies than a ship full of whores and pimps,” Harrington said before turning to Tunggaree. “Let the trial begin. I’ll gladly be a witness for the prosecution. And then I’ll be the executioner, if that’s what you want.”
Tunggaree looked at Nathaniel. “What did he say?”
“Effectively? He said let’s hear the guilty bastards’ story. And then hang them.”
Tunggaree shook his head, turned to the others, and in the Dharug language, asked for the council’s fire to be started.
For the rest of the afternoon, with Nathaniel and Tarrapaldi sitting beside him and interpreting, Tunggaree listened to the statements and counter arguments. Finally, with the sun sinking behind the rock behind them, he stood, and raised his hands for silence.
“Nathaniel, come with me to the cave. We will take this to Baiame, and ask for guidance.”
Nathaniel followed Tunggaree into the water, through the tunnel, and into the cave.
“Come sit with me, my son. Put your hands against mine, as we did the first time we sat here together.”
Nathaniel obeyed, and almost instantly felt the now familiar pulsing of power surging back and forth. Only this time he didn’t feel himself lifting out of h
is body. This time he went within himself, and the deep resonant voice he’d heard at the time of his circumcision rumbled again, like the sound of distant thunder. “We have heard and seen the evidence,” the voice within Nathaniel said. “They are guilty. Tell the council, Baiame has said this, and that the Kadatchies will know what to do. You will release the prisoners, naked and unarmed. The feather foots will do the rest.”
Nathaniel looked for the source of the voice. But he could see nothing. With fear rising, he realized he didn’t know where he was, or how to get out of the black void surrounding him. “Oh, God. Tunggaree – somebody, help me, please. I don’t know how to get out of here.”
“Relax, Nathaniel.” Tunggaree murmured on the edge of his mind. The words seeming to come from a tiny glimmering light on the edge of his existence. “You have gone in further than I thought you would. But don’t be afraid, Son. Think of the cave, and your body sitting on the floor. That is how you come out.”
Nathaniel heard the words, but turned his attention to the light he could see.
“Don’t do that, Nathaniel. Don’t think about, or rely on any light you can see. Because next time you go to Bullima, I may not be here. You’ll be by yourself. And there’s no way you’ll know whose light you’re following if that’s what you do.” Tunggaree said.
Nathaniel closed his mind’s eye to the light, and concentrated on his body back in the cave. Within seconds, he felt himself return to his body.
“Welcome back,” Tunggaree said.
Tunggaree’s words were crystal clear in Nathaniel’s mind. And when he opened his eyes, he saw the old man smiling at him.
“Is that what you call Bullima?” Nathaniel asked. “The sky camp of the spirits? What the people I grew up with, call heaven?”
Tunggaree dropped his hands to his sides. “You seem surprised.”
“Well, yes. Everything I’ve ever heard about heaven, has led me to believe it’s out there in the night sky somewhere.”
Tunggaree chuckled. “And what’s that tell you about the people who’ve led you to believe that?”
Nathaniel laced his fingers together in his lap while studying the old man in front of him. “It tells me they’ve never been there.”
“Exactly. And Baiame? Your God?”
Nathaniel felt his excitement rising. “He comes from within. He’s not some unknown being from out there. He lives within us. He’s a part of all of us.”
“Exactly. And when you lay your hands on someone to heal them, Nathaniel. It’s not just your power that heals them. It’s their’s as well. But they have to believe they will be healed. And it’s easier, and in most cases quicker, to let them believe the healing power comes from you.”
Nathaniel lowered his eyes, deep in private thought, then raised his eyes to look at Tunggaree. “Does Tarrapaldi have all the power of a Koradji? Is it something my children will be born with?” Nathaniel asked.
“I wish it was,” Tunggaree said, “but it’s not. Tarrapaldi has some of the Koradji powers. She can shape change, and she can communicate her thoughts. But she can’t heal. The Kooris would kill her if she did. The thing with Tarrapaldi though, is she’s also part Kadatchi. She’s a genius with tracks. And if she ever decides to kill you, Nathaniel, you’ll be dead very shortly after she decides. It’s a skill her mother taught her, and I advise you to treat that knowledge with total respect.”
“All right, I’ll keep that in mind.” Nathaniel unlaced his fingers and placed his hands on his knees while he stretched. “But what about Muchuka? Is she part Koradji, part Kadatchi too?” Nathaniel asked.
“Ah, Muchuka,” Tunggaree said. “A delightful child. So full of fun and mischief before John Newman hit her. I had hopes of training her as a Koradji’s mate, but she’s concentrating on Kadatchi skills now. She’s as good at tracking, and almost as good at leaving false tracks, as Tarrapaldi. In time, I suspect she’ll be better. I had thought to mate her with Billy Pike. But having now met his brother, I’m not sure. They’re both good boys. Both Kadatchies. And she may decide to mate with them both.”
“Excuse me!” Nathaniel was stunned. “You just said the Pike boys are assassins, and your daughter might choose to mate with both of them. Are you out of your mind?”
“What shocks you more, Nathaniel?” Tunggaree asked. “That the Pike boys have been trained to kill? Or that my daughter may choose to live with them both?”
“I’m not sure. But what does shock me, is your calm acceptance, and admission, of things most people consider to be totally wrong.”
“Nathaniel, Nathaniel. What most people consider, or don’t consider, has nothing to do with what you and I will discuss as Koradjies. The fact is, in the Goobah society, soldiers are trained to kill people and if necessary, uphold the law. In the Koori society, Kadatchies are trained to uphold the law, and if necessary, kill people. Now who would you prefer for a son? A soldier or a kadatchi?”
Nathaniel ran his hand through his hair. “Well, when you put it that way.-”
“Exactly. Now let’s look at the fact, that at this time, there’re at least three men to every woman in this land. Which makes more sense? Encourage the women to live with more than one man? Or have a war that kills off the extra men?”
“God damn you, Tunggaree.” Nathaniel leapt to his feet, his fists clenched. “That’s heresy. You’re talking against the teachings of God.”
Tunggaree smiled, reached up, took Nathaniel’s clenched fist in his hand, and exerted a downward pressure. “Whose God are you talking about, Nathaniel? The one you met in what you now know is Bullima? Or the one you’ve been told about by people who think heaven is somewhere out there in the star-studded sky?”
“Damn you, Tunggaree.” Nathaniel’s eyes filled with doubt, and he dropped to his knees, his voice catching. “You’re tearing apart everything I’ve ever been taught to believe.”
“Nathaniel, you have to choose. There’s a group of people out there, all of them victims in one way or another, who’re waiting for a decision. Are you going to believe your inner voice? Or are you going to ignore it because people have, and will again, tell you that you, Nathaniel Johnson, cannot hear the voice of God?”
“You believe it, don’t you? You heard the voice too,” Nathaniel looked at Tunggaree in awe “and you believe the voice was God?”. Nathaniel said.
“Yes I heard the voice, and I don’t just believe it was the voice of Baiame, I know it was. But it doesn’t matter what I heard, or what I believe or know. It’s what you believe that’s important. You’re the Koradji who Baiame spoke to. What’s important is: do you believe it was him?”
“I know it was him,” Nathaniel said. “In my heart, I know it was. But I also know, from hard experience, that no-one in their right mind is going to believe me.”
“Not true, my son. I believe you. And here’s an interesting fact of life. If you go out there now, and tell everybody you heard the voice of God, they will not only not believe you, they’ll think you’re a dangerous pretender,” Tunggaree said. “And they’ll begin to plot how to kill you.”
Nathaniel stared at the old man, amazed. “That’s not interesting. It’s bloody frightening.”
“Well, yes, I suppose it is.” Tunggaree smiled. “But here’s what I find interesting. When I go out there and tell them you have greater powers than mine. They’ll believe me. The word will pass around that Nathaniel is a great Koradji, and you’ll be accepted and respected by the Kooris.”
“How do you know that?” Nathaniel asked.
“Because it’s a fact,” Tunggaree said. “As I understand the teachings of the Goobah church. Even the great Koradji, Jesus, didn’t become accepted, or respected, until after the Koradji, John, told the people Jesus was a more powerful Koradji. Even though Jesus had gone to John to be initiated. Is that true?”
“Well, it’s one way to look at that part of
the scriptures.”
“Of course it is.” Tunggaree chuckled. “And it’s a way that supports my argument, therefore, I believe it’s true. But is it? To me it is. But to the people, who believe their God is out there somewhere in the star-studded night sky, it’s not. If you tell them their beloved Jesus was a man who knew his God personally, like we do, you’ll be attacking their basic beliefs. And they’ll kill you for it. Which is what happened to Jesus. So don’t do it.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “You’re confusing me. On the one hand you’re telling me to know and speak the truth. Then on the other, you’re telling me people will kill me if I do,” Nathaniel said.
“All right.” Tunggaree leaned forward, put his hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder and pressed. “Sit down and I’ll explain it more simply. When we go out there, I’ll tell the people, in Dharug, that you’re a Koradji. That word will spread amongst the Kooris. But we will not tell the Goobahs.”
“That’s not something that can be kept a secret for ever,” Nathaniel said. “Sooner or later, they’re going to hear about it.”
“True. But by the time they do, the Goobah’s Governor will have appointed you a magistrate. And they’ll think the reason the Kooris think you’re a Koradji, is because you’re such a good magistrate.”
“My becoming a magistrate is not a forgone conclusion, you know.” Nathaniel said.
“But it will happen,” Tunggaree said. “Dennis and his woman are about to witness you deliver a judgment, and hand down a sentence that will resolve the problem of those murdering soldiers. When Dennis gets back to Sydney and talks to the Governor, he’ll tell him what you did. And the Governor will respect that. You’ll see.”
Nathaniel frowned. “What is there to respect? Baiame told me to release the prisoners naked and unarmed. And that the feather foots will do the rest.”
“But that’s perfect. The Goobahs would be furious if we punished these white men in any way. And we can’t keep them with us as prisoners,” Tunggaree said, “because we’ll be busy driving the horses. And it’d be far too dangerous for us to just release them, unless they’re naked and unarmed. This way, if we take their horses and clothes with us, they’ll have to stay here until the troopers come out to take them in, or they die of natural causes.”
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