The Devil's Own

by Christopher Nicole

  He stared down into her eyes, hardened facets of gleaming green. 'To perpetuate this hatred, which may well rise up again and overwhelm my own children? That makes little sense to me. Your uncle claims to have been savagely mistreated by your father. No doubt this raid satisfies his sense of revenge. Yet he is not a savage, Meg. He would not take my life, or yours.'

  '.My life?' she whispered. 'What is my life, when I have lain beneath a black man? How do I look at myself in the mirror, Kit Hilton? How do I touch myself, as I must, if I live? How do I accept your lust, if indeed you can ever feel such for me again? Tell me, Kit. Tell me.'

  'Would you be easier in your mind with George Frederick at your mercy?'

  'I would be easier in my mind,' she said. 'I would be easier, knowing that he will no longer dream, of that moment of glory, that he will no longer remember, how his belly pressed against mine, how his semen mingled with my own juice. By Christ, I would be easier.'

  'Aye,' Kit said. 'I have no answer, to such a memory. Save to overlay it with others. With sweeter thoughts. Have no fear of my love, my darling Meg. Command it, and it belongs to you alone. Be my wife. That is all I ask. Say the word, and I will never go near Lilian Christianssen again.'

  'And I almost believe you,' she said. 'Oh, God, to be alone with you, now and always, shipwrecked upon some lonely isle where we should have none but each other, and our love. I have sought only yours. I will ever seek, only yours. So perhaps you are right. Perhaps with your sweet aid I may overcome that memory. Then let it commence now. Quickly, I beg of you, Kit.'

  Her eyes were shut. He swept her from the floor and laid her on the bed, and knelt above her, and looked up as the door opened.

  'Papa,' Tony cried. 'We were so afraid, Papa, when you did not come.'

  He led his sister by the hand, and she still cried. 'But we are here now,' Kit said. 'Safe and well. Eh, sweetheart?'

  Marguerite also sat up, and smiled at her children. 'Come here,' she said.

  They crossed the room, slowly and timidly. They were unused to their mother, naked and dishevelled. They found her a stranger, and Tony, at the least, was old enough to link her appearance with the whispered gossip which already seeped through the house.

  Marguerite took a child in each arm, hugging them against her. 'We are all here now,' she said. 'Safe and well, as your father says.'

  'And did you beat them, Papa?' Tony cried.

  'No,' Kit said.

  'There were too many,' Marguerite said. 'Too many even for your father. But he fought as no other man could have fought, for there is no other man of his stature. And when they finally overcame him, Tony, and would have killed him, they learned his name, and their anger turned to respect. Thus we live, and our plantation lives, and we will prosper.' They buried their heads in her shoulders, and she looked over them at her husband. Now at last, after so long, the tears came, rolling silently down her cheeks. The gates of hell had opened wide, and she had stumbled in, and then been dragged back to the light and air outside. So perhaps she would need to lie and cheat a little to remain above the ground, but she would do that. And surely, he thought, as he leaned forward to kiss her eyes, if I can but keep her this high for a short time, the gaping chasm which yawns before her mind will fill, and disappear.

  Marguerite Hilton.

  The crowd roared its anger. It stamped its feet, and dust eddied into the air. It whistled, and the noise pierced the very heavens. St John's was an ant-heap of outraged manhood. Their anger swelled up towards the dais on which their Governor, and his deputy, stood, and the redcoats grasped their firepieces tighter as they formed line before the steps, and stared at the people who were their brothers-in-law and fathers-in-law and drinking companions, in saner moments, and prayed that the explosion of hate would lead to no more than words.

  Sir William Stapleton regarded them without the slightest emotion other than a frosty smile. He had confronted hostile crowds before. Now he waved the paper again.

  'Peace,' he shouted. 'We must all be grateful for that, my friends. Certainly while the French are so superior in strength in these waters.' Once again he paused, and smiled at Philip Warner, standing beside him, mopping his red neck against the heat of the sun.

  The noise subsided. 'Grateful,' he bellowed, 'because it permits us to devote our attention to the real enemy. To the Caribs, my friends. What say you to that?'

  There was a moment of surprised silence, and then a roar of rapturous approval set the glasses tinkling in the windows bordering the street.

  'Aye,' Stapleton said, holding up his hands, confident that this time they would obey him. 'Did you think I had forgotten them? Did you think that your Governor would allow such an outrage to pass unavenged? No, no, my friends, my people, for every life they took, nay, for every stalk of sugar-cane they burned, we shall exact a full retribution.'

  The crowd cheered.

  'But I would have you know,' Stapleton shouted, 'that the path will not be easy. No sooner did I learn of the attack upon our fair island, than I wrote letters to our countrymen in Jamaica and in Barbados, requesting their assistance in settling this matter once and for all. The Governor of Jamaica has replied to say that his heart, and those of his people, march with us, but that owing to the devastation caused by the dreadful earthquake at Port Royal only a few years ago, he can assist us with no military force. We are grateful for their good wishes. But the Governor of Barbados has replied to say that we must fight our own war.' He paused to allow the boos and hisses to run their course. 'Further, he says that the more the Leeward Islands are reduced, the happier will the Barbadians be.'

  This time the howl of execration sent the gulls scattering from the harbour.

  'I cannot believe,' Stapleton shouted, 'that such a sentiment expresses the true feelings of the Barbadian people. But it is the point of view taken by their governor. So we must act on our own. Yet we are not so bereft, dear friends. Have we not many good men and true in these islands who will bear arms to avenge our recent catastrophe?' The crowd roared.

  'And have we not, living in our midst, nay, standing beside me, a man of vast experience in dealing with the Caribs? Gentlemen, I give you Colonel Philip Warner. His father and brother faced no less a challenge, and carried it to a successful conclusion. Shall we be lesser men than those heroes of the past? Colonel Warner.'

  The men and women stamped their feet and cheered and clapped their hands, and dust and sweat and passion filled the morning air. The horses shuffled restlessly, and Kit had to rein hard to keep still. The trap waited at the back of the crowd, and Marguerite's fingers were tight on his arm.

  'They will not lack for volunteers,' he said.

  'Nor should they.' She smiled, a tight-lipped smile. 'Although Papa here exists on reputation. He did not accompany my grandfather and my uncle on that famous expedition.' She glanced at him. 'But he will have you at his side.'

  Kit said nothing. He watched the Deputy Governor calling for silence.

  'Aye,' Philip Warner shouted. 'I know these brooding devils. I know them well. They are led by my own brother.'

  The crowd fell silent. They had not expected such frankness.

  'But does not the Bible itself command me,' Philip said. 'Should your right eye offend thee, cast it out? My brother will pay for this outrage, and I shall see that he does. I need men. Men of courage. Men of purpose. But more than that, I need men of anger. Are you such men?'

  The loudest of all the shouts came crashing through the still air.

  'So then,' Philip shouted. 'If you are such men, enter your names on the tables set out by the Ice House. Enter them, and assemble this time tomorrow, to be given arms, and to be told what we intend.'

  The crowd cheered, and the two governors turned and left the platform to enter the Ice House itself. Kit urged the horses forward, and the people parted before him.

  ' 'Tis Captain Hilton,' someone said.

  'You'll lead us, Captain,' shouted another man.

  'Aye, we'l
l march with you, Captain,' someone else bellowed. 'Or are you afraid to meet Monsieur DuCasse again?' a voice said.

  For everyone present knew that Green Grove had been spared the worst of the assault.

  Kit turned his head, and his eyes searched the crowd, but found no man looking sufficiently defiant. And now they were abreast of the warehouse, and he could see Agrippa and Abigail, and the Christianssens. And Lilian. He had sent a message into town, the moment the roads were safe, both to inform her of his own survival, and to learn of hers. But now ... the rumours were already spreading of what had happened to Marguerite. Lilian would not expect him to return.

  As the crowd knew.

  'You'll lead us, Captain,' said the man who had first spoken, grasping the bridle. 'You've a cause, same as us.'

  Marguerite stared at them as the carriage stopped, and she stepped down. 'Aye,' she said, not speaking loudly, but with an edge to her voice which cut across even that huge assembly. 'He has a cause. The Captain will lead you.'

  The crowd cheered, and hands reached up, both to assist Marguerite to the ground and to slap Kit on the back as he followed her up the steps. He sighed with relief when the doors closed behind them. But here was a new kind of ordeal. For every planter on the island was present, coming forward to greet the new arrivals.

  'Marguerite,' Philip said. 'Thank God you are safe. We had heard such rumours.'

  All of them true,' she said, and faced the men, and their women.

  'Oh, sweetheart,' screamed Mary Chester, throwing herself at her friend. 'Could you not reach St John's?'

  Marguerite embraced her. 'I chose to fight for my plantation,' she said, looking over the young woman's head at the rest of them. 'And we were defeated, thanks to the cowardice of our overseers. And so I was thrown on the ground and raped, by one of my own blacks. Is that not what you wished to hear, gentlemen? But I am still alive, and my husband still stands by my side, as he fought at my side, and lost at my side.'

  'Kit,' Philip Warner squeezed his hand. 'It seems a miracle.'

  'No miracle,' Kit said. 'Your brother spared my life when he discovered my relationship to Susan. And then DuCasse arrived, and called a truce. You'll recall that we sailed together as lads.'

  'A fortunate circumstance,' Edward Chester remarked.

  'But you will march with me, Kit,' Philip said hastily, before Kit could take offence. 'I have need of men with experience of the jungle.'

  'I would know your purpose,' Kit said.

  'Our purpose?' Stapleton demanded. 'Why, Captain Hilton, it is to avenge this catastrophe.'

  'Scarce a Christian thought, Your Excellency.'

  'Christian? You speak to me of Christianity, in regard to these heathen monsters? You, who have seen your own wife ...'

  'And you are indelicate, sir,' Kit said. 'If my wife chooses to mention her own misfortune, that is her decision, but the next man to speak of it, uninvited, before her or before me, will face my pistol, be he governor or book-keeper.'

  'By God, sir,' said one of the St Kitts planters who had accompanied Stapleton. 'You cannot speak to the King's representative in that tone.'

  'Be quiet,' Stapleton said. His face was red, and yet he smiled. 'I had expected no less a reaction from Captain Hilton, and I honour him for it. Yet, sir, if you will turn such anger on me for reminding you of the guilt of these savages, can you not spare some for the Indians themselves?'

  'I doubt whether anger would accomplish anything of value, Your Excellency,' Kit said. 'You ask me to accompany the expedition because I have been on such an expedition before. Well, sir, if you wish my experience, then kindly do me the honour of accepting it. I marched with Morgan. He took a year and more to prepare his expedition against Panama, reconnoitred the ground over which we had to travel, hand-picked his followers, understood truly what he was about.'

  'He fought the Dons,' Harding said. 'We plan to light naked savages.'

  'I would have thought we oppose the more deadly foe, sir,' Kit said.

  'Yet must it be done,' Stapleton pointed out. 'Although certainly it will be necessary to proceed with caution.'

  'And there are ships, sir,' Kit said. 'Where will we find the vessels to transport our men at short notice?'

  'Now there we are fortunate,' Philip Warner said. 'As the news of the peace with France was brought to us by a flotilla of three vessels, all anxious to lend their support in our expedition to Dominica.'

  'The three anchored in the bay?' Kit demanded, with a sinking heart.

  'None others,' said a man who had hitherto been lurking in the shadows at the corner of the room. 'And happy to make your acquaintance after all these years, Kit.'

  Kit frowned. 'Bale? Can that be you?'

  'Captain Bale, lad. Captain Bale.'

  Certainly the buccaneer had prospered. His coat was of broadcloth, and his shirt cambric, if somewhat dirty. But his cutlass was bright enough and there were two pistols at his belt.

  'I had thought you long dead.'

  'I'm not that easy to kill, lad. As I told you gentlemen, I was a good friend of this lad's grandfather. We sailed together, when I was but a boy, Tony Hilton and I.' He gestured his companions forward. 'Captain William Hamblyn, and Captain Edward England, at your service, gentlemen.'

  'Pirates,' Kit muttered.

  'Privateers, Kit, privateers,' Bale insisted. 'Temporarily out of employment, with the news of this peace, and eager to play our part in your campaign.'

  'With good crews, Captain Hilton,' Stapleton said.

  'If allowed to plunder, sir,' Kit said.

  'And yet,' Stapleton mused, 'on the last occasion that it was necessary to mount an expedition against the Caribs, did not old Sir Thomas and Edward Warner, good men and true, happily avail themselves of the aid of two famous buccaneers to gain their victory? One of these men, as I recall, was named John Painton. And the other ... now strange, his name escapes me.'

  'It was Tony Hilton, sir,' Kit said. 'Like Colonel Warner here. Your Excellency, I make no apology for my family. Or indeed, for my own past. But you have raised the most important point of all, sir, in my opinion. The objective of the expedition.'

  "Why, to kill as many of the devils as possible,' Chester said.

  'And to regain as many of our kidnapped slaves as possible,' Philip Warner said.

  "And the women, gentlemen,' Stapleton observed, drily. 'Were not a dozen white women also carried off?'

  Feet shuffled. 'Aye,' someone said. 'The women.'

  'The slaves and the women must be regained,' Kit said. 'But I wonder if we achieve anything by mounting an expedition of pure vengeance.'

  'Sir?' A dozen voices shouted the query.

  'Hear me out,' Kit bawled. 'I but seek to know whether we approach this affair as angry men, or as statesmen. There is all the difference in the world between the two. Sir William has just reminded us that there was a previous expedition, which cost many lives, which was intended to avenge many lives. Yet it did not end the Carib menace. Nor will this one, if we seek to do nothing more than kill. Do you imagine we can destroy the Carib nation in Dominica? Has any one of you the slightest concept of the shape of that island? Of the forests there? Of the precipitous mountains up which we must march? Can we do more than raid, as they raided us? And by doing that, will we not be exposing our own sons and daughters, and ourselves, in our old ages, to another violent and bloody conflict? Were we not discussing our own futures but a few weeks gone, and planning even treason with but one objective in mind, the security of our plantations and of our families?'

  'The only secure Carib is a dead Carib,' Chester said.

  'Yet it would seem that Captain Hilton has an alternative scheme, and I have no doubt at all that it is worth hearing,' Stapleton said.

  'Well, gentlemen,' Kit said. 'I was neither born nor brought to manhood in these islands. But my grandmother knew them well, and remembered them sufficiently to impart some of their history to me. And no doubt Colonel Warner can confirm much of it, and po
int out where I err. Is it not a fact, Colonel, that your illustrious father, and my illustrious grandfather, were welcomed to St Kitts by the chieftain of that island, the cacique Tegramond, and given land to plant their tobacco, and treated as friends? And more. Did Tegramond raise any objections when his own daughter Yarico became your father's mistress? I speak no slander; it is a well enough attested fact. It is that fact that we are discussing now. The men quarrelled, or there was a suspicion of treachery. No one will ever know the truth. Suffice that the white men, outnumbered and insecure, felt themselves menaced by the Carib peril, and forestalled it by a surprise attack, which led to the massacre of Tegramond and his people, and which began this deadly feud. Which was fanned by the adherence of Yarico to her English lover. And is it not true, Colonel, that you and your half-brother, the fruit of that liaison, quarrelled, and that he and his mother fled to Dominica to perpetuate a hatred which might otherwise have died a natural death?'

  'I early saw the villain in him, if that is what you mean,' Philip Warner said. But his face glowed with angry embarrassment.

  'And is it not true that the French, seeking to make capital between Englishman and Indian, elected Tom Warner to the Governorship of Dominica, meaning thus to enlist him for all time on their side? Yet is he half-Warner, and half-English. And so he proved at Green Grove, that he has not finally turned his back on that glorious heritage.'

  'Yet would he revenge himself upon my body, and as he hoped, upon my mind,' Marguerite said.

  Kit turned to her. 'Indeed, my sweet. But there is the nub of the matter. The quarrel is entirely between Warner and Warner. Sad it is that it should involve so many innocent people.'