Green Eyes

by Karen Robards

  “Dear God!” Anna breathed. Chelsea, staring fascinated at the approaching mob from the safety of Julian’s arms, peered back at her mother over his shoulder.

  “That’s what the coolie looked like who did the nightmare spell!”

  “Is Thuggees! Oh—ay, great trouble comes.…”

  Kirti, moaning, was silenced as Julian suddenly turned on her.

  “Thuggees?” he demanded sharply. “What the hell are they?”

  “I told the memsahib—the flower was a warning. Quick, quick, we must go back in the house. They will kill us all! For the sake of the little missy, we must hurry!”

  “We can’t go back in—the ’ouse is burning!” Ruby sounded terrified, and Anna didn’t blame her. The chant of the approaching islanders was drowning out the roaring of the fire. Smoke poured around them; Anna wasn’t sure if the islanders had seen them or not, but suddenly the thought of being seen by them made her shiver.

  Kirti had said they would be killed.…

  “There is a way—a passage. Come, sahib, memsahib! Hurry!”

  Kirti turned and darted back into the burning house. Julian stared after her for a split second’s uncertainty, then appeared to come to a decision. His hand tightening on Anna’s, he thrust Chelsea’s head down on his shoulder and plunged back inside the house, pulling Anna and Ruby with him. The smoke was so thick now that Anna’s eyes watered instantly. She stumbled blindly in Julian’s wake as he almost ran down the hall. Behind her, Ruby coughed and choked, but hung on.

  It was getting harder and harder to breathe. The air was thick and so hot that Anna feared it would singe their skin as they plunged toward what seemed to be the very heart of the fire. Ahead, sparks shot toward them, at the forefront of what seemed to be an oncoming orange glow. Of course, the fire was spreading toward them. The crackling roar was so loud now that the noise in itself was terrifying. Anna picked up her skirt to shield her mouth and nose from the worst of the smoke, but it didn’t seem to help.

  It occurred to her that she, and the rest of them, might die after all.

  Please God, protect us. Please God, look after Chelsea. Those two phrases ran over and over through Anna’s mind, to the exclusion of almost everything else. Except for the thought that burning to death would be an awful way to die.

  In front of her Julian stopped, bent, and seemed to wrench something out of the floor. Through streaming eyes Anna saw that he was holding what seemed to be part of the floor aloft, while Kirti disappeared into it. Then Julian was handing a sobbing Chelsea beneath the floor. Either smoke or terror must have affected Anna’s brain, because it was only after Julian dragged her forward that she saw that there was a hole in the floor leading to some sort of passageway beneath. Gaping at it, she barely had time to register that they were in the keeping room before Julian was lowering her.

  The space where she found herself was less than three feet tall, with an earth floor beneath and the floor of the house above for a ceiling. It was not smoke-free, but the air here was fresher—enough so that she could at least breathe as she followed Kirti and Chelsea, who were crawling single-file ahead of her. Chelsea looked back once at Anna, whimpering, but Kirti, with a hand in the child’s nightdress, dragged her on. Behind Anna came Ruby, with Julian, who had stayed to replace the trapdoor, in the rear. Judging from the direction of the smoke and the roar, they seemed to be crawling parallel to the fire above them. But it was gaining ground with ominous speed.

  At any moment the floor above them might collapse.

  Kirti reached a mud wall that marked the eastern boundary of the house’s foundation, crawled quickly to the left, and then, without warning, simply disappeared. It took Anna an instant to realize that she had dropped through a jagged black hole in the floor.

  “Mama, I can’t!” Chelsea hesitated on the brink of the hole, staring down into what seemed to be limitless blackness below.

  “Yes, you can, chicken. Kirti’s there,” Anna told her daughter, and then as the floor above them gave an ominous creak she put her arms around the child’s waist, dropped her legs into the hole, and, closing her eyes, prayed.

  The two of them slithered feetfirst along a midnight-black, lichen-slick, plunging passageway that seemed to go straight down.

  Chelsea screamed and clung tightly to her mother’s neck. Anna held on to her child for dear life and braced herself for what would come.

  What came was jarring contact with a flat patch of ground. Anna hit it feetfirst, and, with Chelsea’s weight added to hers, crumpled. Then, quickly, remembering Ruby and Julian behind her, she scrambled out of the way. Chelsea still clung to her neck like a monkey, but Anna felt some of her fear subside as she realized that they were in what appeared to be a tunnel, perhaps five feet tall and a little more than half as wide, lined with bricks. The bricks were ancient, and covered with slime, but still they were bricks, and therefore man-made. And they could not be very far below the surface. Chinks in the bricks that made up the roof allowed tiny slanting beams of moonlight through, enough to enable them to see their surroundings and each other. Kirti was there, standing a little way down the tunnel, waiting. As Anna shot into view with Chelsea, Kirti put her finger to her lips, signaling for silence as she pointed overhead. Chelsea eased her grip on her mother’s neck, and Anna thankfully put the child down. Then she was distracted by the wooshing appearance of Ruby, followed by Julian.

  When she glanced around again Kirti was disappearing along the tunnel, Chelsea with her. The ayah had the child firmly by the hand.

  “Come, quick!” Kirti whispered over her shoulder. With Chelsea’s eyes looking fearfully back at her, Anna hurried after them. At a little distance behind her came the others.

  Anna was no judge of distances, but they ran along the tunnel, stooped over, for what she calculated was a good ten minutes. Then the passageway ended abruptly. Kirti and Chelsea waited by what appeared to be half-rotted wooden rungs set into the brick wall. There seemed nowhere left to go, and Anna felt a fresh stirring of alarm.

  “We must go up,” Kirti whispered when they were all together. “The passage ends here. But we are not safe. The Thuggees are everywhere tonight. They want to kill you—and me too, now, for helping you. But I could not let them hurt the little missy, or you, memsahib, her mother. We must be very careful.”

  “Why do they want to kill us?” Julian caught Anna’s hand and held it tightly. She felt a tad comforted as her fingers twined with his.

  Kirti shrugged. “It is their religion. They kill to please the goddess Kali. I told you, memsahib, the flower was a warning.”

  “But I thought it was a spell to keep me from having nightmares,” Chelsea piped up.

  Kirti shook her head. “All that they told you was a lie. I was afraid to say more. Always I feared they would kill me, as they will if we are caught. We must move very quickly and quietly if we are to get away. This tunnel, it is known to only a few, but who knows if those few are friend or foe? Not far from here is a cave. In the cave is another tunnel, which leads to my village. We will be safe there until daylight. They will not kill in daylight. Then, when the sun comes, you must go, back across the great sea in your ship. It is the only way you will be safe.”

  “We owe you a great debt, Kirti,” Anna said quietly.

  Kirti looked at her with her liquid dark eyes. “I love the little missy as my own. There is no debt owed.” She turned to Julian. “Sahib, if you will push against the roof, a door will open.”

  Julian straightened to his full height and did as she said. For a minute, more, nothing happened. Then, with a groan, the bricks overhead shifted sideways, and Anna was staring up at the night sky.

  “Remember, very quick and very quiet,” Kirti whispered, while Julian, making scant use of the ladder, thrust his head and then his whole body into the night.

  Ruby followed as Kirti turned to Anna.

  “Memsahib, trust me with the little one. If they come, they will more surely seek harm to you than me.”
/>
  Anna looked from Kirti to Chelsea, whose face was white with fright.

  “Mama,” the little girl whimpered.

  “You go with Kirti. I’ll be right behind you,” Anna told her, then followed Kirti and her daughter up into the danger-filled night.

  LI

  The tunnel had at least taken them behind the chanting, prancing lines of the murderous islanders who, Anna saw, ringed the house. Kirti, Chelsea clutched tightly in her arms, was already running through the jungle, her footsteps as soundless as a big cat’s. Ruby was following her, while Julian had waited for Anna. As soon as she emerged, he caught her hand and pulled her after the others. Anna’s feet barely touched the ground. Once she stumbled, to be caught up by Julian’s arm around her waist. They could not afford to lose sight of Kirti; only she knew the way to safety.

  Behind them, the Big House was ablaze. The stench of burning lay everywhere. Flames had engulfed the rear and most of the front, lending a brilliant orange glow to the night. The heat from the fire could be felt even at such a distance; the crackle and roar of the burning combined with the chanting of the islanders in a terrifying cacophony of sound that Anna knew would be etched in her memory forever.

  But at least they were alive. Anna knew that she should be forever thankful for that. If she and Julian had not awakened when they had, would they all have been incinerated in the burning house? Or would the Thuggees have gotten to them first, to drag them screaming from their beds to their deaths?

  From somewhere not too far to their left came the sudden, shattering sound of a man’s terrified scream. The sound so startled Anna that she nearly screamed herself. Only the knowledge that to do so would bring the Thuggees down upon them intruded at the last minute to save her. Still, her head swiveled in the direction from whence the sound had come. What was happening?

  “No! Oh, God, no! I’m on your side, you bloody beggars!”

  After that came another scream, pain-filled rather than terrified as the first had been. Julian, who had been running with the silent speed of a native, suddenly stopped dead and turned toward the sound.

  “That’s Graham,” he said, his eyes straining to peer through the darkness. Anna, halting beside him, felt a sudden burst of nausea as she realized that the sobbing voice did indeed belong to her brother-in-law. Somehow he had fallen into the hands of the Thuggees. Dear God, were they to be forced to listen to the sounds of his murder?

  “Go on. Go with Chelsea and Ruby,” Julian said, releasing her hand and giving her a little push toward where Ruby’s nightgown was a flash of white disappearing down the path.

  “What about you?” Terror lent shrillness to Anna’s words.

  “The bloody bastard’s my thrice-damned brother. I can’t just let them slaughter him, no matter how much I might like to see him rot in hell,” Julian said. “Go on, get out of here. Now.”

  “Julian, no!”

  “I must. Go!”

  He gave her another shove. Then, as Anna obediently began to move away, he turned and ran swiftly toward the piteous cries. Anna slowed, then stopped as she watched him go. She was in a terrible quandary. She needed to go to Chelsea—but she could not abandon Julian.

  He was headed into terrible danger.

  Looking swiftly around her, Anna realized that she was alone. She could no longer see Ruby, or Kirti and Chelsea. If she continued down the path, would she discover them? Or would she run into something—or somebody—else?

  Anna shuddered. Then, her decision made, she turned her back on the path and flew, as silently and invisibly as she could, after Julian.

  Before she could catch up with him, she saw him hesitate on the edge of the jungle. He went utterly still, staring at the clearing that served as the Big House’s rear lawn. Looking past him, Anna saw with horror what had stopped him in his tracks.

  Graham, screaming, was being carved to pieces by a circle of machete-wielding Thuggees.

  It was a hideous sight. Blood covered him from head to toe. He was trying, futilely, to ward off the slashing thrusts that were apparently meant to torture, not kill. He was screaming, keening really, like an animal in mortal pain and fear. Anna, watching, wanted to keen herself. She wanted to turn and run from the horror and block it from her mind forever.…

  But there was Julian. Dear God, surely he realized there was nothing he could do?

  He was not even armed, had not so much as a knife about his person. How could he possibly think to help Graham? And why should he, when Graham was all that he despised?

  Before Anna could reach him, Julian was moving again. With a great shout he burst from the jungle to sprint catty-corner across the lawn, no doubt intending to disappear into the jungle opposite as suddenly as he had appeared. The machete wielders froze for a moment, their heads swiveling in Julian’s direction. Then some of them—some, but not all—gave a hallooing cry and took off in pursuit.

  The ones who were left surrounded Graham, herding him, weeping, away. As a distraction, Julian’s ruse had proved effective. As an intelligent move on his own behalf, it was a disaster. Anna watched, horrified, as another band of Thuggees sprang from the jungle toward which Julian darted. He was sandwiched between the two bands, and, although he swerved and tried to run in another direction, there was no time.

  The Thuggees surrounded him. Anna saw the flash of metal as machetes were lifted high. Then Julian, her brave, strong Julian, cried out and fell to the ground.

  Anna forgot about herself, forgot the danger she was in, forgot everything in that moment but Julian. Her hands rising to her throat, she screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

  Then something struck her in the cheek. The pain of it shocked her into silence. Her hand rose to slap instinctively at the hurt. Her first thought was that she had been stung by a particularly vicious insect. Then her fingers touched something small and hard protruding from her skin. Pulling it out, Anna stared in disbelief at a tiny, dark-tipped dart.

  She looked up, her eyes moving to where Julian had disappeared beneath the mob of machete-wielding natives. The fate from which he had tried to save Graham was now his. Anna felt her heart swell to bursting. Tears rushed to her eyes. Her every instinct urged her to run to him, to try to save him, but she knew she could not. All such an action would accomplish would be her own death.

  Oh, dear God, why did the men she loved have to die?

  Suddenly, the jungle and everything in it began to swim around her. She blinked once, twice, then sank to her knees. The jungle rustled, and she felt a sudden stab of pure terror. But she was too dizzy and weak even to cry out. Much as she wanted to look around her, to see what and who it was that threatened her, her neck would no longer support the weight of her head. She was falling.…

  Her head had not even touched the ground when the night went totally dark.

  LII

  When Anna awoke, she was being lifted from what she saw, groggily, was a papyrus canoe. Her head swam as she was carried away from the water, but she regained enough awareness to know that it was closer to dawn than midnight, although the sun had not yet risen. The sky was now charcoal gray, not black, and a few precipitous birds were beginning to stir in the treetops overhead. A curious smell assaulted her nostrils, and she realized that it belonged to the oil that anointed her captors. There was a small band of them, perhaps a dozen, one of whom was carrying her in his arms. She looked up into the fearsome, spear-riddled face. Dear God, the man even had spears piercing his nose and tongue! Then her eyes closed again, blocking out the hideous sight, and she concentrated on staying limp in the monster’s hold.

  They hadn’t killed her yet. Maybe they were waiting until she was awake.

  It was all she could do not to shudder with fright.

  She was nauseated, weak, and freezing cold despite the island’s heat. It had something to do, she knew, with whatever had tipped the dart that had struck her. A poison—terror rose like bile in her throat.

  She sensed that whatever death they had in
mind for her would be hideous.

  Her captor stooped, and Anna’s lids opened enough to permit her to see that he had carried her inside a hut. She had barely registered that when he dumped her unceremoniously on the hard-packed dirt floor. It was all she could do not to cry out as she landed on her arm, certainly bruising it and possibly worse. Then he was leaning over her, dragging her to a pole in the middle of the hut. Dragging her hands above her head—how the bruised arm ached at such treatment!—and binding her wrists with rough efficiency, he tied her to the pole.

  Then he was gone. Left alone, Anna let out the breath she had been holding and allowed her eyes to open. She was in a mud-and-wattle hut with a hole in the conical top that allowed smoke from a presently nonexistent fire to escape. The walls were low; only in the center was the nut tall enough to permit a person to stand upright. A single door covered with a rush mat opened outward. There was no other means of escape.

  Not that she could escape in any case, with her hands tied securely to the pole.

  Then there was a great commotion outside, and Anna shut her eyes again. Seconds later the hut seemed to be full of people. She did not dare to so much as flutter an eyelash as more apparent prisoners were dumped beside her and tied to the same pole.

  This time she could hardly wait until the Thuggees were gone to open her eyes. Would one of them be … ?

  Julian! Anna thanked God with a silent, heartfelt prayer. Not dead, then, but injured, a great dark gash on his forehead where some kind of club had apparently been used on him, and hundreds of tiny cuts about his person that sluggishly leaked a small amount of blood. He had suffered the same fate as Graham, those slashing, tormenting slices from a dozen machetes that were meant to cause pain rather than death. His clothes were in bloody ribbons; even his boots were sliced. But he lived! Thank God he lived!