Indiana Jones and the White Witch

by Martin Caidin

  He took a deep breath, hoping against hope he was getting through to this vengeance-mad woman. "Anytime we step out of this time twist of yours, we're sitting ducks for snipers with scopes and long-range rifles. I know these weapons. Enfield three-oh-threes. They can take out a target with dead-on accuracy at more than a mile, and we're the targets. I saw plenty of them in the war."

  He stopped, spun about quickly, stabbing his finger at Caitlin. "This isn't the time of Merlin's magic—"

  "It is more powerful than you understand," Caitlin said, her face a stone mask.

  "It can't stop a high-velocity rifle bullet!" Indy half shouted at her. "Remember, one shot into your heart or your brain and you're dead! And Merlin and Caliburn and all the witches that ever lived can't help you then!"

  "I am wasting time," Caitlin said angrily, starting off.

  "Wait! One question, Caitlin."

  She stopped. "The last question, Henry Jones."

  "Did all the magic of the New Forest, of the covens, or Merlin prevent the death of King Arthur? Magic swords or not, he died. And if Arthur could fall, so can you."

  Indy took a long, deep breath. "And if Cordas takes you out before you get to him, your mother's death will never be avenged. Everything you've done so far will be a waste."

  Caitlin hesitated, struggling with the words that conflicted so strongly with what she considered a holy mission. But much of what this man said had worth to it. And he was right; Cordas alive... and her dead would be unacceptable. She must hear more.

  "I have come to know you, Jones," she said carefully. "I know you are a brave and worthy man. You do not speak without reason. Tell me, then, what you have in your thoughts."

  Indy felt relief surge through him. "There is another way. I think I can manage some time twisting of my own."

  Both women stared at him, incredulous. What he said didn't make sense. Indy was no warlock! He could not control the ancient secrets. Caitlin shook her head in disappointment. As she started to rise Gale restrained her with a gentle touch on her arm. "Listen, Caitlin."

  Indy faced Caitlin directly. "Can you keep Cordas and his men busy? Chasing shadows or whatever. Anything to keep them where they are, in this open pine barren, until ten o'clock tomorrow morning. That's when I will need all your powers, Caitlin. When I want this mist to cover all these fields, low to the ground."

  "Yes." Caitlin showed her question in her expression as much as her words. "But why do you want this?"

  "Please. I'll explain it all later. Right now I need you to trust me, to do as I ask. If I fail, well"—Indy shrugged—"Cordas will still be here. He won't leave without turning this whole country upside down for the gold."

  "I accept your reasoning, even if I do not understand."

  "Great. Now," Indy said with sudden intensity. "It's getting dark. When night falls, see if you can get that bunch to make some noise, to let us know where they are. Can you do this?"

  "Yes. That is your wish and I will do it. I will wait for the dark." She turned and disappeared into fog.

  "I just hope she'll do what I asked," Indy said to Gale.

  "She will. When it is dark."

  "It's almost midnight." Indy looked up from the radium-phosphorescent numbers on the watch face. "I haven't heard a sound yet and—"

  Abruptly he clutched his head in both hands as sudden pain stabbed at his skull. Gale rushed to his side. "It will pass soon," she said, placing her hands over his.

  His face showed his pain. "W-what is it?" he said hoarsely.

  "It's not the wound. That's healed," she assured him. "The pain is from Caitlin. Not directed at you. She is calling the animals."

  "I don't understand—"

  "You will. Listen."

  Across the pine barren, rushing through the low-lying mist, came the thudding sound of racing hooves, mixed with grunts and shrill squeals. Abruptly, the squealing noises became angrier and louder. Moments later Indy heard men shouting in surprise and fright and then yelling in pain. Shots boomed across the flatlands and hummocks, mixed in with howls of pain. Then, silence.

  Indy stared across the darkness, a thin moon reflecting along the upper layer of mist. A glow in the distance became brighter, sending wisps and streamers of orange and red along the curling fog.

  "That's their camp," he murmured. "Cordas and his men. I don't understand that kind of fire. If we were after them, all they're doing is making perfect targets of themselves."

  "Except two, who are now dead." Indy and Gale turned to see Caitlin appearing wraithlike through the mists. Her bow was still slung over her shoulder. In her hand she held the glowing scepter.

  She joined them by the fire, sitting cross-legged on the ground. She smiled at Indy. "I have done as you asked. Now you know where they are. There were eight. Now there are six, and they will not leave the safety of their fire in the dark."

  "Two of them are dead?" Indy echoed, wanting to be certain he had heard her correctly.

  Caitlin nodded.

  "Did you—"

  She cut him short. "No, Henry Jones. Before you even complete your question. I did not kill anyone."

  He glanced in the direction of the roaring fire, sparks drifting high into the air. "What happened?"

  She gestured with the scepter, the crystals gleaming pinpoints of light. "With this, I called the wild pigs. The tusked ones. They came in a herd, stampeding directly into the camp. They are vicious animals."

  "I know," Indy remarked.

  "Before these men knew what had appeared, the tusks ripped several of them. One man died from being gored."

  "You said two were killed," Gale broke in.

  Caitlin nodded. "Yes. The men reacted with panic. They were shooting wildly. They killed one of their own." She smiled. "There is great satisfaction in that. It is fitting."

  "They get any of the animals?" Indy asked.

  "Yes. At least three. They are, as you say, professionals. They have not had fresh meat for days. So tonight they will roast the meat of the boar. By their fire and smoke we shall know they remain in their camp."

  "Caitlin," Gale asked her friend, "you are certain they will stay there?"

  Caitlin laughed. Indy wasn't sure, but this seemed to be the first time he had ever heard that sound from this woman. "Would you wander about in the dark, the ground concealed by mist, knowing there are the tusked ones nearby, ready to charge? Remember, the animals are invisible to them."

  "Beautiful," Indy said slowly. He looked with admiration at Caitlin. "Just beautiful," he said. "Tomorrow morning, it's my turn."

  24

  That night, by flashlight and a pale moon and reflected glow from their campfire, Indy pored over the battle campaign maps of Olustee Station. Caitlin slept. Gale had napped, but now she felt irresistibly drawn to Indy's studies and the marks he was making on the maps.

  "What do you have in mind?" she persisted. "I mean, you just left us hanging."

  He patted her shoulder. "Not yet, carrot top. Still got some details to work out. If I'm going to be successful, I can't afford not to have every last item drop into place."

  "All right." She sighed. "Can I at least look over your shoulder?"

  He made room for her by his side. "Good. Now you can hold the flashlight."

  She took it from him, but pointed the light away from the maps. "Question, oh wise one."

  "Very nice. Very nice indeed. Ask away."

  "We're sitting here by this fire. Which makes us as much an open and visible target as Cordas and his group. Why are you so relaxed about our safety?"

  "Caitlin took care of that, remember? Wild pigs, strange shadows, and all that."

  She took patience as her cue. "Indy, that doesn't mean that one or more of those people won't try to attack us. You said yourself they're professionals. To me that means they'll take chances."

  "You're right. But they'd also have to come in very close to us," he said, smiling.

  "What's so funny?"

  "They couldn't g
et a shot at us unless they got close, like I said. The fog and all that. Gale, walk out into the field. That way"—he pointed—"not toward their fire."

  "What on earth for?"

  "Just do it, Gale."

  "Sometimes, Indy, you are the most exasperating man I have ever—"

  "Walk!"

  She rose, started moving westward. Perhaps twenty yards off into the mists, something snapped against her ankle. She froze as metal clanked noisily.

  Indy's voice came through the darkness. "Okay, carrot top, you can come back now."

  She emerged from fog and sat by him. "What was that all about?"

  "Trip wire," he said casually. "While you were asleep Caitlin and I set out stakes and then ran a thin wire in a large square around our camp. Pieces of metal hanging from the wire. Shake it even a little and you get all sorts of metal pieces banging against each other. You clanked pretty good out there."

  Caitlin stood by them. Her approach had made as much sound as a wraith. "The wire," she said to Indy. "Visitors?" The sword Caliburn was unsheathed, reflecting firelight like a beacon.

  Indy shook his head. "Nope. Gale was testing our alarm system. Since you're up, how about going over what I've set up for the morning?"

  "I'll get coffee," Gale offered. When she returned with three enameled mugs, they went back to Indy's maps.

  "All right," he began, his tone serious. "You both know the essential details of the battles. What I need to do now, with your help, is to bring forth some powerful energy from the past." He didn't wait for a response, but went back to the maps.

  "Look, right here. South of us. We know there's an old wagon trail here. What's left of that road is clearly visible. More important, along that old trail there are some large open spaces. Now, if these maps are accurate, then during the Olustee campaign, the Rebels were camped along the perimeter of the woods down that way." His finger drew a line along the map. "So the Union cavalry had to have made their mass attack from the north."

  Gale glanced again at the map. "Right past where we are now."

  "Carrot top, you are exactly right," Indy complimented her. "What I need from you and Caitlin is your help. And whatever ideas you have to get Cordas and his thugs to that area south of us. And it must be close to, but before, ten o'clock in the morning."

  "But why?"

  "A little trick out of the past," he said mysteriously. "It will all become very clear tomorrow morning." He watched them nod in agreement, if not in understanding.

  "In that area, over there"—he pointed again—"there's plenty of brush for them to conceal themselves, but only if they're lying down or crouched low. There aren't any trees for cover. If they stand up, they'll be visible to us. And we're just as much a danger to them with our rifles as they are to us. The stalemate won't last too long, but I just need it to last long enough."

  "You make no sense, Jones," Caitlin said, scowling.

  "Caitlin, I trusted you completely in your own backyard in the New Forest," Indy said, his tone and manner brusque. "Now I'm asking you to do the same."

  "I do not like your mysteries, but I will help all I can," she answered stiffly.

  "All right. I'll go over the critical move again. We've got to get those people into that area I've pointed out and keep them there for a while. Let's get to work."

  They made dummies from brush and their bedrolls. From even a short distance away, in dim flickering firelight and the night, the bedrolls looked like three people sound asleep around the fire. They loaded thick wood that would burn the night through and still be smoking in the morning to "give away" their position. "Even if the mist lifts in the morning, or the wind blows it aside, through a sniper's scope or binoculars it will look like we're still in camp." Indy grinned. "Stupidly dozing away the morning." The grin faded.

  "Now, Cordas has no way of knowing if we've been joined by anybody else. I want to keep him guessing. If he believes our three may be five or six, he'll tighten up his security and stay right where he is. We can't get to him without exposing ourselves to any rifle of decent range."

  "All right. That much makes sense," Gale noted. "But what do you want us to do now?"

  "We leave this camp setup," he told them. "As we move toward that lake I showed you, we'll zigzag our way through the field. We stay low, every now and then firing a few shots in their direction. With the sound reaching them from different places, they'll start to worry about our number here."

  Indy checked his rifle and the Webley. "They won't try to reach us in the dark. Too dangerous. But come morning," he stressed, "their patience should run out. With us lobbing shots at them through the night, they'll also have to worry about our having found the gold. That should scrape their nerves a bit more."

  He turned to Caitlin. "There's usually heavy mist hereabouts in the morning. All those lakes, the marsh and swamps. Cordas already knows this, so a heavy fog won't seem anything but natural to him. Usually it burns off about eight or nine in the morning—"

  "But you wish me to continue the low mist," Caitlin broke in. "Very low to the ground."

  "Precisely. So that's the whole package," Indy said. "We want Cordas and his bunch to be in the area I've noted at ten o'clock sharp. And we have to be along the shores of this lake. In fact, just as I said before, we'll have to be standing in the water."

  "Indy, you amaze me," Gale said quickly.

  "Tell me," Indy answered.

  "You warned us about alligators," Gale said, shivering at the thought. "How they can attack without warning and—"

  "Don't forget the water moccasins," Indy broke in.

  "Then why are we going into the water?" Gale said with open confusion and anger.

  "Because Caitlin can keep them away from us," Indy said gently. "Just as she maneuvered those wild pigs. If that scepter works as well in water as it does on land, we're safe."

  "I will do it. The scepter has the power," Caitlin confirmed. "But your words are a puzzle, Jones. You said we must be out of the way. But you have not said out of the way of what."

  "You'll see in the morning."

  Gale let out a sigh of frustration. "I hope you've got some very good aces up those sleeves of yours!"

  Indy laughed, holding out his arms. "Big sleeves. Lots of aces."

  The night passed slowly. They moved furtively through the tall grass and the mists rising from marshy ground. The company they found—or that found them—was unwelcome and aggravating. Mosquitoes and gnats swarmed about them, drawn by perspiration, body heat, and scent. They did their best to ignore the bites and stings. At irregular intervals they fired rifle shots in the direction of Cordas's encampment. His men returned the fire, but aimed at the campfire glowing in the mists.

  "It's working," Indy said in a half whisper. "They don't know where to shoot, but I'll bet a dollar to a wooden nickel they're convinced we've been joined by friends. We'll keep them pinned down just as they are."

  "Don't forget the wild pigs," Gale reminded him. "They're still circling around their camp. Only the fire keeps them away."

  Caitlin tapped Indy's shoulder. "I can send the animals into the camp, fire or not. Is this what you wish?"

  "No!" he hissed. "They could break up and spread out, and that's the last thing I want."

  Morning came cool and damp, the fields glistening with dew, dripping from trees and bushes. From the streams and marsh and the nearby lake, heavy mist curled and floated in a light morning breeze. It lay over the ground like a thick blanket.

  Indy watched the rising sun with growing exasperation. "It's burning off the ground fog too fast!" he said angrily. "By nine o'clock most of it will be gone. Both of you, start some intermittent fire with your rifles. Aim to the left of where that ground opens up into the low brush. I'll keep up some shooting to the right. I want Cordas and his men to feel they're safer if they stay low and work their way into that open area." He snapped off three fast rounds, the bullets smacking into tree trunks.

  He rolled to one side an
d looked up to Caitlin. "How long will it take you to create the mist?"

  "It can be done as quickly as you ask."

  "Great." He nodded with satisfaction. "Just keep your talents ready to go when I say so. Now listen carefully. At five minutes to ten, we all go into the lake. Stay alert for those gators and snakes. And just in case those nasties aren't tuned into your frequency, Caitlin, both of you keep your weapons handy. Especially that sword. Whatever happens, no shooting unless it's a matter of life or death."

  "Indy, none of this is making sense," Gale complained.

  "It will. No time for a conference now."

  The sun beat down, and the fog lifted until the ground was clear and low scud floated twenty feet above them.

  Indy's watch showed eight minutes before ten o'clock. He led the two women, Caitlin with the great sword Caliburn, Gale with her crossbow. Their guns were slung over shoulders or in holsters as Indy had asked.

  Five minutes to ten. They stood at the edge of the lake. No question; the alligators were present. Indy turned to Caitlin.

  "I need everything you've got, now!" he told her. "Bring the mist to the fields"—he pointed toward the Cordas camp—"out there. Cover these fields. We'll handle the gators right now."

  Caitlin turned to face the long open pine barren. She held the scepter high, the crystals gleaming. Indy felt that strange pressure squeezing his ears, thrusting into his brain. He winced with the pain.

  "Indy!" A low gasp from Gale as a huge prehistoric form glided toward them. Gale brought up the crossbow. A powerful bolt slammed into the eye of the gator. The huge creature bellowed and thrashed madly, spraying the water with blood. Other gators moved in swiftly to feast on their wounded brother. Again the crossbow sang, again a bolt struck, this time into the soft underbelly of another animal.