Wild Bells to the Wild Sky

by Laurie McBain

  "I think he sees us, Lily," Tristram whispered, closing his eyes even though he and Lily were well hidden in the darkness and the denseness of the tall grasses they had crawled through until stopping just short of the beach.

  "He can't see us," Lily reassured him, although she had to admit that the man who had called himself Valentine Whitelaw and claimed to be Basil's brother had seemed to be looking directly at them. "Don't move, Tristram," she added, feeling him shaking beside her. "This one just might be able to see in the dark."

  "Do you really believe he's Basil's brother, Lily?"

  Lily bit her trembling lip, uncertain what to do. If only Basil were here to advise her, she thought, quickly wiping away a tear as she glared at the shadowy figures on the beach.

  "If he is, Lily, we should go to him like he says," Tristram decided, thinking the man knew an awful lot about them.

  "He could have learned all of that from Dulcie. You know she can't keep a secret. He looks like a rogue who could charm the devil himself," Lily predicted, quoting one of Basil's favorite phrases.

  "He's English, Lily," Tristram reminded her.

  "Have you forgotten the way his men raided our hut? What do you think they'd do if they knew about our cave? I only hope Dulcie doesn't say anything about it to him. He must never know about our treasure. Basil warned us not to say anything. It is our secret, Tristram. They're no different from pirates. And don't forget, he kidnapped Dulcie. I bet he suspects there is more treasure, and he's holding Dulcie for ransom. All pirates are greedy. That is why I think our plan will work."

  "I don't think he's hurt her. I even heard her giggling, Lily. Do you think she likes being with them?"

  "Dulcie is too young to know what she likes. We have to decide that for her. I know what is best, Tristram," Lily said slowly, not certain herself what she was feeling. "That is why I think we are doing the right thing." She tried to work as quickly as she could without making too much noise, but it was hard to see what was doing in the dark. "I've been thinking, Tristram, that once we get Dulcie back we should hide until they leave. I really do not think it would be a very god idea to be rescued. Even if he is Basil's brother."

  "What?" Tristram demanded, forgetting to speak softly.

  "Sssshhh!" Lily warned him, giving him a pinch for good measure.

  "Ouch! Why did you do that, Lily?"

  "Sssshhh! Listen. Do you want to go to England?"

  "Of course I do. Basil always said we would return there one day."

  "Basil and Mother are here, Tristram. They will not be in England. It was different when they were alive. We would all go to England and live together at Whiteswood," Lily told him, oblivious to what Basil's wife, Elspeth, and their son might think about such an arrangement. "Everything has changed now, Tristram. You and Dulcie were born here. I can't even remember Highcross Court. What is there for us in England?" Lily demanded, frightened more than she had ever been of the unknown; and England was the unknown.

  "I never thought of that, Lily," Tristram said, worried now.

  " 'Tis a cold country. You'd have to wear shoes all of the time. And hose."

  Tristram's mouth dropped open in dismay at such a thing.

  "They might even try to take Dulcie away from us, Tristram," she added. "He's already separated us."

  "No! Dulcie? Why?"

  "Because Dulcie is Basil's daughter. If he's really a Whitelaw, then he and Dulcie are of the same blood. We aren't, Tristram. What does he care for us? He'll try to take Dulcie away when we get to England. She'll have to live with the rest of the Whitelaws."

  "Can't we live there too?"

  "No. We will have to live at Highcross Court. 'Tis yours now, Tristram. You are master of Highcross. I think we've a cousin in England. But I don't think Mother and Father liked him very much. That doesn't matter, though, because I could take care of us if we had to return to England. Highcross is ours. We could live there. Live off the land like we do here. At least when there isn't snow on the ground," she added in an innocent-sounding voice.

  "I don't want to go to England."

  Lily smiled, patting Tristram on the shoulder. "I'm glad you feel that way, Tristram."

  "And he can't make me go, either," Tristram said truculently,, then added hesitantly, "What are we going to do if he doesn't agree to our terms, Lily?"

  Her work completed, Lily squatted down and stared at the beach, where the glow from the fire was flickering across the sands. "First, we'll go back to the cave. We'll stay there until just before dawn. Then we'll come back."

  Tristram sniffed appreciatively of the aroma of smoked pork drifting through the night air. "That sure smells good. I'm hungry, Lily."

  "We can get some fruit on our way to the cave."

  Tristram sighed, wishing this Valentine Whitelaw had caught him instead of Dulcie; then he'd be sitting by the fire eating roast pig.

  "Are you certain we're doing the right thing, Lily? Don't you think Basil would wish us to say hello to his brother?" Tristram questioned as he began to crawl after Lily and away from the beach. "Maybe we could call to him from the trees. At least we could talk to him."

  "Basil wanted us to be safe. But he always intended for us to be together. I don't think we would if we left the island, Tris."

  They were about halfway to the first row of pines when a ferocious cry sounded nearby. Lily and Tristram paused, realizing that Choco was prowling closer than before. The strange noises from the beach had drawn his curiosity. He must be somewhere in the tall grasses. The scream sounded again, but even closer this time. Tristram froze, his heart pounding.

  Choco was too close. Lily could feel his eyes watching them as they moved slowly through the high grass. Lily tried not to be frightened, but they were downwind of Choco, and the night air was full of strange odors, he might not recognize their scent. They had always stayed inside the hut at night, when Choco stalked his prey. She knew he wouldn't hurt them, but what if he attacked them before he realized who they were?

  "Come on, Tristram," Lily whispered hoarsely, determined to reach the trees. "Hurry." She grabbed hold of his hand and forced Tristram to move faster with little regard now for stealth.

  There was a blinding flash of light, before the deafening roar sounded around him. Lily threw herself to the ground, Tristram falling on top of her. Lily could smell a different kind of smoke in the air. It brought back vivid memories of another time when she had been at her father's side and smoke had burned her eyes. That had been the last time she had ever seen him.

  "You damned fool!"

  "I think I got him!"

  "You don't even know what you fired at. You could have hit anything in the dark. Those children could have been out there," Valentine said, glancing down at the sleeping child he held in his arms.

  "It was the cat, Whitelaw!" O'Hara exclaimed excitedly. "You heard him yourself. I saw something moving out there. 'Tis mine! I'm going to have it hanging for all to see in the hall of my house in Dublin. A jaguar! If I don't sell the skin for a fortune, I might even line my cloak with it," O'Hara boasted.

  "If you shoot that pistol one more time, I'll have your hide displayed for all London to see," Valentine warned, cursing the darkness that kept him from seeing if O'Hara had managed to hit anything. If he hadn't, then he'd certainly frightened away anything that might have been hiding in the grasses.

  "Stick 'is 'ead on London gate," one of the crew murmured, hoping the Irishman would be fool enough to fire again, for he'd like to see the captain knock the wind out of his bloated sails.

  "You're jealous. All of you!" O'Hara charged, glancing around at the unfriendly faces. "You're mad because I reacted faster than any of you. I wonder if you'd be feelin' the same if the cat had taken a bite out of one of you hearties while you were in the grasses mindin' your own business. Well, just wait 'til mornin'. Then you'll be seein' that Liam O'Hara didn't miss the mark," he promised angrily before stomping back to the fire, not overly eager to explore the tall grasse
s where a wounded animal might be lying in wait until morning--when hopefully, if the creature still lived, he would certainly be dead.

  " 'Ope 'e didn't just wing it. Then it'll be comin' back lookin' fer the Irishman's blood."

  "Let's 'ope 'e did, then."

  Valentine stood staring into the darkness.

  "You aren't going to wait until morning, are you?" Thomas Sandrick asked as he watched his friend impatiently cut the rope that bound him to the child.

  "No," Valentine replied curtly as he tied the frayed end of the rope around a startled Thomas Sandrick's wrist. "I am leaving her in your care," he told him as he carefully placed Dulcie in Thomas's arms.

  "B-but I don't know what to do with her," Thomas exclaimed, holding the child as if a burning coal had been placed in his palm instead. "What if I drop her?"

  "She'll probably start to cry, so unless you want her to wake up, I'd hold her a little more firmly," Valentine advised his nervous friend as he drew his sword before turning away to take one of the torches Mustafa had lit from the fire.

  Holding the fiery torches before them, Valentine and Mustafa started toward the tall grasses, most of the crew close behind, torches of their own lighting up the night sky with a smoky, reddish glow.

  Liam O'Hara, belatedly realizing that the captain wouldn't wait until tomorrow to discover what lay beyond, was not about to share the glory. The kill was his. Jumping to his feet, he grabbed a burning log from the fire and ran after them. Pushing ahead of everyone, Liam O'Hara had the pleasure of being the first one to see the specter lunging out of the darkness.

  His scream of terror effectively halted the others in their tracks. The assembled torches revealed to astonished eyes what had attacked Liam O'Hara, who was crouched on the ground, his head and face protectively covered by his arms as he waited for the wild creature to tear him apart.

  The last thing Liam O'Hara expected to hear, however, was laughter. Uncontrollable laughter. Choking as he gasped for air, Liam O'Hara glanced up, disbelief replacing the horror that had robbed him of his senses.

  The creature remained where he had first sighted it. It had not moved at all. It could not move. It wasn't real. It was nothing more than a scarecrow dressed in a feathered cape and headdress, its face a mask of gold.

  "Lookee 'ere! 'Tis the same critter that attacked the Turk! Reckon the Turk's got first claim on 'im. If'n 'e wants 'im, that is!" someone chortled.

  "Reckon if Master O'Hara lines 'is cloak wi' these feather 'e might be able to fly. What a figure 'e'll be in London."

  "When e'said 'e'd winged 'im, 'e weren't lyin'."

  "Don't let 'im get away now, Master O'Hara."

  " 'E's quick, I bet!"

  Liam O'Hara's face was flaming, with anger and embarrassment. "It was the cat! I heard it! That is what I shot at, not th-this . . . th-this . . . thing!" he declared indignantly.

  The Turk was walking around the area, holding his torch as close to the gently swaying grasses as he could without starting a brush fire. His own heart had pounded momentarily when seeing the creature so suddenly for a second time. The Turk breathed a sigh of relief.

  "Cap'n! Blood!" Mustafa called out, a smile curving his lips, for the captain was right, and the creature was not supernatural.

  Valentine hurried over to where the Turk was kneeling just beside the scarecrow. He held up his hand to the light, and there was blood staining two of his fingers where he had touched the ground.

  "Damn!" Valentine said beneath his breath.

  The Turk was dismayed. He had thought the captain would be pleased to know that the creature could be wounded, forgetting for the moment that the captain had never believed in the jinni.

  Valentine stood up. He turned to face Liam O'Hara. "You had better pray that your shot just grazed the child, or you will wish that you'd never set sail aboard the Madrigal, because you will never see England again," he promised the startled man, the expression in his eyes leaving Liam O'Hara in little doubt of the deadly threat of the softly spoken words.

  He tried to smile, but it was a sickly-looking grin. "How do you know that blood comes from one of the children? You all heard the cat. 'Twas the cat I wounded," he blustered.

  "I suppose the cat stood up on his hind legs and made this scarecrow?" one of the other gentlemen adventurers in the group commented sarcastically. "I've always given you the benefit of the doubt, but--"

  Liam O'Hara was reaching for his sword when the man broke off the rest of his words, his attention caught by something pinned to the scarecrow's cape.

  "What the devil's this, Valentine?" he said as he pulled the torn piece of paper free of the golden fishhook that had been hooked through it and the cape. "I believe 'tis addressed to you." he said with a look of curious surprise on his bearded face as he handed the note over to his captain.

  Valentine unfolded the piece of paper. He began to smile as he read the words that had been scrawled across the page with little attention to neatness.

  "What's it say, Cap'n?"

  "It would seem as if I have been given an ultimatum," Valentine responded, his eyes scanning the surrounding darkness. "I am to release the child at dawn and leave the island. I may keep this mask of gold and the items I stole from the hut. And if I do exactly as I've been told, then I might expect a few doubloons as reward. They have obviously decided that we are a greedy lot and would do anything for gold."

  "Why, the nerve o' the--"

  "To send us packin' like a bunch o'--"

  "They can't do that!"

  "Who do they think they be anyways?"

  "Gentlemen, I do not see that we have any other choice but to follow our instructions. At dawn, we leave the island," Valentine Whitelaw said, leaving his men speechless by his easy capitulation to the children's demands.

  "Lily? Wake up! We've got to go now or it'll be to late," Tristram said. Pale light was already beginning to filter in through the window of the cave. It was almost dawn and they had to get across the cove and to the other side of the headland to discover if Valentine Whitelaw had done as he'd been told and had released Dulcie and left the island.

  "I'm so tired," Lily said, pulling herself into a sitting position, but she would have fallen over if Tristram hadn't grabbed her.

  "Are you sure you are all right, Lily?" Tristram asked for the thousandth time. "You don't look very good."

  "I am fine. It is just a scratch," she said, lightly touching the tender spot on her head where the ball had grazed her. She took away her hand, swallowing her fear as she stared down at the sticky red blood staining her fingers.

  "Oh, Lily!" Tristram breathed. " 'Tis blood."

  "Prraaack! Oh, Lily, 'tis blood," Cisco repeated, his giggling laughter filling the cave.

  "I told you I am all right. It doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it did," Lily lied, for she had a horrible headache. "Now come on. We've got to rescue Dulcie," Lily told him as she struggled to her feet, ignoring Tristram's outstretched hand as she momentarily lost her balance. Capabells jumping into her arms gave her some comfort as she walked unsteadily toward the entrance to the cave.

  Tristram grabbed the square of silk that they had wrapped the doubloons in, and which he would leave in place of Dulcie when they rescued her. "I wish we didn't have to give them any of our treasure," he said resentfully.

  "A bargain is a bargain," Lily reminded him as they left the cave, Cisco flying down to perch on Lily's shoulder as Capabells leaped onto the sand to race ahead, his chattering disturbing the birds still asleep in the trees. "We aren't thieves. This way he won't have any reason to return. We will have kept our side of the bargain the way Basil always taught us gentlemen did."

  When Lily and Tristram reached the edge of the forest bordering the bay, all was quiet.

  "Look!" Tristram whispered, pointing to a spot near the headland, where a lone figure stood. " 'Tis Dulcie. She’s alone. I'll go get her," Tristram said, starting to step out from behind the palm. "I don't understand why she's just st
anding there."

  "Wait!" Lily cautioned. "What is that around Dulcie's waist?"

  "It looks like a rope. It's tied to something in the sand. It's a stake! They pounded it into the sand. I guess they knew she'd run off if they didn't," Tristram said.

  "He's making certain he gets his blood money."

  "Look, Lily!" Tristram cried, less softly now. "There's the boat! It's full of men. There! Just beyond the reef. That's Valentine Whitelaw. The one sitting in the stern, and look at the one sitting just in front of him. I'd recognize that funny-looking hat anywhere. That's the man who attacked me, Lily."

  Lily blinked. She'd have to take Tristram's word for it. She couldn't focus her eyes. Everything was blurred and she felt sick to her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she stepped from behind the palm and started across the beach toward Dulcie.

  "Lily! Lily!" Dulcie cried out as she saw her sister and Tristram approaching. "They left me here, Lily. He told me to be good, that nothing would hurt me. Why did he go, Lily? He was nice."

  "As nice as a snapping turtle," Lily said, reaching Dulcie's side. "What's wrong?" she asked Tristram.

  "I can't pull up the stake. It's in too deeply."

  Lily fumbled with the knots around Dulcie's waist, but they wouldn't give. "Why are you crying, Dulcie? I'll have you free in just a minute."

  Dulcie wiped the back of her hand across her nose. "You have blood on your face, Lily. Are you going to die?" she asked tearfully, her voice rising shrilly as she stared at her sister's pale face. "I don't want you to die! I don't want you to leave me like Mama and Pap!"

  "Of course I'm not going to die. I bumped my head. That is all," Lily tried to reassure her. "Why didn't I think to bring the knife. You're going to have to go back to the hut and get it," Lily told Tristram, but he continued to stand where he was, staring at her as if she were crazy.