by Bev Allen
There had obviously been more discussion amongst the attackers, because the next thing was a hail of arrows into the canopy. Most bounced off or were caught in the vegetation, but one got through and grazed Vlic’s arm. He gave a yip of pain, but quickly tore a strip of cloth and bound it tight. It did not seem to overly bother him or, if it did, he did not allow it to show.
“Nice try!” Lucien yelled when the arrow storm ceased. “But it didn’t work! Why don’t you come on down here and have a look?”
“Lucien!” Jon remonstrated. “What are you doing?”
“Annoying them,” Lucien replied. “Angry people make stupid choices.”
“Okay, but don’t overdo it.”
“I won’t.”
It started to rain again. Not proper rain, but a misting drizzle that made the air wet and clung to the leaves. Perhaps it was Lucien’s encouragement or this new irritant that prompted the attackers’ next decision. A couple of smoking faggots landed on the wet canopy to hiss and spit and finally splutter out.
Another two followed, but this time Lucien grabbed his war club back from Stacey and made a hole for one to fall through.
Blowing on it to keep it alive he gestured for Vlic to bring out the kindling they had stored.
He moved to the far end of the ledge and made a fire. Risking injury he leaned out and grabbed a huge handful of wet green grass and threw it onto the small blaze.
Immediately grey smoke began to rise, seeking out all the holes and gaps in the canopy; and regrettably, finding the eyes and noses of those hiding under it.
“Why did you do that?” Dr Riddett asked, her eyes streaming.
“Signalling,” Jon whispered from the back. “Well done, son.”
“Will that bring your dad?” Lucien asked Vlic.
“Like a shot,” Vlic replied cautiously. “Provided he sees it.”
Another burning faggot, this time thrown far more enthusiastically, landed in the canopy, but Lucien managed to bounce it off with the butt of his rifle and it dropped into the wet undergrowth where after a while it began to send up a thin column of grey.
The rising smoke must have irritated those above as well, because no more fire was sent down, but Stacey spent some time making little faggots of kindling, setting them on fire and then hurling them down the slope where they also started to send up their own signatures.
She blushed and smiled when she caught Jon’s eye and saw his nod of approval.
Nothing happened for the next hour. There were no sounds from above, but those below were not stupid enough to think they had been left alone.
“Someone will be watching,” Jon told Lucien.
“I guessed as much. Any idea what they might try next?”
“Starve you out, if they have the patience, which I doubt,” Jon replied. “But they will need dust long before that happens.”
“Frain doesn’t need it,” Lucien pointed out. “I reckon I could take him.”
“You might,” Jon agreed. “But you won’t. You’ll wait for Iesgood.”
“If I just …”
Jon grabbed his wrist and damaged as he was, he still managed to grip it hard enough to make Lucien wince.
“You will wait for Iesgood.”
“Okay, I’ll wait,” Lucien said. “But I don’t see why I can’t …”
“Hello down there!”
There was nothing challenging or aggressive in the greeting, but it made all of them jump.
“Iesgood?” Dr Riddett asked, hope springing to her face.
“No,” Lucien replied.
Something about his voice made Vlic stare.
Wainwright had shifted uncomfortably and Stacey’s eyes went from him to Lucien, a question in them.
Lucien grimaced and nodded, but there was no emotion on his face.
“You answer him,” he told Vlic softly. “You won’t like this, but you are going to have to lie.”
Vlic looked very serious and Lucien put a hand on his shoulder.
“I know,” he said with a sympathy he would once have scorned. “But we have to keep them off balance and he’s a clever bastard.”
Vlic, his suspicions about the identity of the man above confirmed, gave a slow reluctant nod.
“What do you want?” he called out.
“I thought it was time we had a chat,” the man replied. “My friends here have been a little crude in their attempts to attract your attention. I thought I’d see what conversation might achieve.”
“Who are you?” Vlic demanded.
“My name is of no importance, but I suspect the congressman will tell you if you’re interested. He is with you, I presume?”
Lucien mouthed some instructions and Vlic called.
“He died in the night. Your man shot him.”
There was some muttering above and they caught the words “flesh wound” and “not my fault.” Tim Frain was apparently feeling the need to justify himself.
The man spoke again. “What about the woman?”
Below Dr Riddett opened her mouth to answer, but Lucien’s warning finger stopped her.
“What woman?” Vlic replied.
There was a rapid exchange of hushed words at this and both the boys grinned, knowing they had caused some consternation.
“The woman who was guarding the child,” the man above said. “What have you done with her?”
Lucien whispered some instructions.
“We found no woman,” Vlic replied. “We just took back the maiden of our people. The man begged to go with us, so we brought him, but we couldn’t stop him bleeding.”
More angry whispers greeted this and they heard a demand to “ask them!”
“Oh, very well,” was the exasperated reply. “Someone up here wants to know what happened to the Tribal Liaison Officer who was in the shed with the girl.”
This time Vlic grinned, lying might not be the accepted behaviour of an honourable warrior, but it did have certain satisfactions.
“There was no Tribal Officer when we rescued our cheed.”
It did not take an eyewitness to know there was a furious conversation going on above.
They heard Frain shouting some shrill orders, calling for men. His voice became more and more distant until he was so far from ear shot they could no longer hear him.
“Well, well,” the man said. “It appears we’re alone at last. Don’t let it get you over excited, I’ve a very good rifle here and I can pick you off one by one if any of you try to escape.”
There was the click of a bullet being eased from the magazine into the breach.
“I’m wondering how many of you are down there. Good old Timmy and the unwashed seemed to think no more than four. Care to enlighten me?”
“No,” Vlic replied.
“What a pity. Now I won’t know how much of this to send down. I hope there will be enough for all.”
A small heavy bag was dropped with skilful precision through the biggest of the holes in the canopy. It landed near Jon, missing him by a few centimetres.
Lucien picked it up and opened it. It was full of the familiar brown powder.
“Very clever,” he said under his breath.
And it was clever, or would have been if there were four tribesmen down here weak enough to need the muck.
Stacey took the bag and held a small amount to her father’s nose.
“It’s a pain killer and sedative,” she said. “Or it is for us.”
Lucien turned to Jon, offering him the bag.
“Get rid of it,” Jon ordered and the bag made a swift exit over the edge to land in the boggy ground below.
Vlic watched it go, then yelled, “Oops! We dropped it. Can you send down another couple of bags?”
Both the boys thought this was the height of humour, but Jon’s serious face and Stacey’s mocking sneer brought them back down to earth.
“You can have anything you like if you return the girl to me,” the man replied, apparently undisturbed by their rej
ection of the dust. “And I’ll need Wainwright’s body as well. Give me those and I can see no reason why you and your friends shouldn’t leave here alive.”
“He’s sticking with the original plan,” Stacey whispered in surprise.
“He doesn’t know we heard it all,” Lucien replied. “Frain probably didn’t tell him everything.”
Stacey gave him a speculative look. “You do know who that is, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” Lucien replied. “He has always been very fond of his plans. Vlic, tell him no.”
Obediently Vlic shouted, “We keep the maiden, but you can have the body any time you like, it’ll be getting high soon.”
This was answered by a single bullet fired with precision through a hole in the canopy. Dr Riddett gave a shriek as it sliced a long and bloody groove down the side of her face.
She was not able to control the pain and dropped her rifle to hold her hands to the wound to try and stop the flow of blood.
“Which one of you did I get?” the man inquired, “I do believe that had a feminine ring. Not my useful little girl, I hope.”
“Time to stop playing,” Jon said. “Tell him you’re here.”
Lucien shrugged and called out, “You’re a better shot than I thought you were, dad.”
If Marcus Devlin was stunned hearing his son’s voice, he recovered quickly.
“Why, if it isn’t little Lucy,” he said, mockery dripping from every word. “What an unexpected pleasure.”
“Gee, dad, it’s just great to know I give you pleasure,” Lucien returned. “You sure have managed to keep that a secret.”
The laugh that greeted this had a ring of genuine humour.
“Let’s just say I wasn’t expecting you after everything Tim told me,” Marcus said. “I’m wondering how many of you are down there. I’m guessing Wainwright, alive or dead, Harabin and the girl. Of course, what I really need to know is, who else?”
“Come on down and do a head count,” Lucien suggested.
Again there was laughter. “Do you know, I used to think you were like your mother, but I’m beginning to wonder if a bit of you is more like me.”
“Remind me to have that bit surgically removed.”
“Have I annoyed you, Lucy?”
Lucien ground his teeth; this particular shortening of his name was one he reluctantly accepted from his mother. Anyone else using it was likely to be doing a quick count to make sure they had picked up all their teeth.
An obvious and angry retort sprang to his lips, but Jon’s hand on his wrist squeezed, so he took a breath and allowed his natural insolence full rein.
“Do you know what, I’m guessing you fuck me off about the same amount as I fuck you off.”
“I doubt that,” came the annoyed and unconsidered reply. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much you’ve fucked me off over the years.”
“You never did like me, did you, dad?”
“No, not very much, but your mother seemed to feel you had some worth, so I indulged her. I saw little or no reason for having you and nothing you’ve done since has changed my mind.”
Vlic could not keep the shock from his face and Stacey stared in bewilderment. She looked down at her own father and then, to Lucien’s embarrassment, her eyes filled with tears.
A glance across at Brigedh showed a sad little face, and in desperation he turned to Jon.
“What a pyst,” Jon said. “Keep him talking, son. We need time for Iesgood to arrive, but don’t allow anything the son of a bitch says to annoy you.”
Avoiding everyone’s eyes, Lucien considered his next move.
“That’s cos Ma knows quality when she sees it,” he yelled back. “What the hell she saw in you, I dunno.”
“Very amusing. Now we’ve established our mutual regard, how about we stop this crap and talk business.”
“Fine by me,” Lucien replied. “What do you want?”
“I’ve told you what I want. Wainwright, the girl and Riddett. I’m willing to bet money she’s down there with you.”
“And what do I get in return?”
“I’m guessing there are no more than three others, including Harabin. You could have a large quantity of ammunition and food, but I doubt it and I know you’re short on water. Very soon you’re either going to have to chance a break out or surrender. Either will be suicide.”
“Why don’t you come on down and check the stores,” Lucien jeered.
“Because I can wait you out,” Marcus replied. “But why die, Lucy? Give me what I want and I’ll let you and your men go. I’ll even let you take Harabin with you.”
“Come on, dad! You know you can’t risk Jon and me telling The Guild about your little plan.”
Again there was laughter.
“I used to think you were stupid, but you’ve really opened my eyes. You’re right. I don’t want this coming to the notice of The Guild. But there’s no need for it to do so. How about I make you an offer?”
“Go ahead.”
“I have plans for this planet and I intend to become very, very rich on the strength of them. Who knows, I might even end up first president of a new republic.”
“Not if I can help it,” Lucien retorted.
“You’ll have no say,” Marcus replied. “And neither will the unwashed savages who presently stand in the way of my future.”
Vlic’s face took on a dangerous expression.
“You’re not making friends down here, dad,” Lucien warned.
“Interesting,” Marcus said. “For some reason I assumed you’d brought Guild help.”
“I’m still waiting to hear this offer.”
“Ah, yes. If you surrender, give me what I want and agree to keep your mouths shut, and I will make sure that a million square acres of this planet will be set aside for you and your friends. No-one will interfere with you. You can run about naked in the woods, do your little dances and play nice with the trees and the animals.”
“A reservation? And only a million acres? Come on, dad.”
“I thought a million was a good place to start the bargaining. What had you in mind?”
“I might settle for a couple of hundred million acres,” Lucien replied.
“Are you interested in serious negotiations or not?”
Below Vlic grabbed Lucien’s arm. “You aren’t …” he began.
“Of course I’m not,” Lucien replied, “but Jon is right, I have to keep him talking. Look!”
He gestured out to the valley beyond where the shadows began to grow long as the sun began its slow descent.
“They won’t risk anything in the dark, especially if they are high on dust. Your father will be here tomorrow at the latest.”
Vlic looked at the gathering gloom and nodded.
“Seriously,” Lucien called. “Fifty million acres and I chose which fifty.”
“Five.”
“I thought you wanted a serious negotiation. I’ll go down to forty-five, but I still get to do the choosing and you pay for the fence.”
“Fence?”
“Yeah. The bloody great fence I want surrounding my land, so none of your bastards can get in.”
“And none of yours can get out,” Marcus replied. “You can have your fence around ten million acres.”
“Not a bad offer,” Jon whispered, and Lucien grinned at him.
“Forty million and I don’t agree to anything until we have worked out trading terms.”
Jon shook with silent laughter. “Well done.”
There was a long pause from above. “Now why are you coming up with these ridiculous ideas?”
“They might be ridiculous to you!”
“You’re up to something,” Marcus said. “I hadn’t realised just how much like me you are. For some reason I thought all that wallowing in mud and filling the house with rotting vegetation and dead animals was due to a lack of brain, but you really are moderately clever, aren’t you?”
“I’m a fucking genius
,” Lucien replied.
He ducked just in time, spotting the flash of fading sunlight on the barrel of his father’s rifle. The bullet whizzed by his ear and buried itself in the ground behind him.
For the first time since he was a small child, Lucien’s father succeeded in making him cry. “”Do you hate me that much, dad?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“I don’t hate you, Lucy. I’m completely indifferent to you and you’re standing in my way. I’ve worked it out; you’re trying to buy time and I’ve a good idea why, so I’ll be taking advantage of the coming darkness to remove myself, but I thought I might have a go at removing you as well. I’ve a feeling you’re going to be a bloody nuisance in the years to come.”
He said nothing more and they heard nothing more, but there was a quality to the silence that spoke of his no longer being there.
“Are you all right?” Stacey asked. Her normally stern face was softened.
“I guessed most of it,” Lucien replied. “I just never thought he’d try and kill me.”
He turned and looked at Jon, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a shout from above.
“Kid!” Frain yelled down. “Hey, kid!”
“What?” Lucien shouted back.
“Are you the brat Harabin had in tow earlier this year?”
“Might be!” Lucien replied.
“Did you buy yourself a woman with those trade beads?”
The angst his father had caused was forgotten. Lucien, the dare devil alight in his eyes, gave Stacey a wink.
“I’ve got more respect for my body,” he shouted back. “I blew it on booze and weed instead.”
There was a genuine laugh from above. “I thought you weren’t the usual sort The Guild love so much. Too much like your old man. Did you get a thrashing for it?”
“Might have.”
The laugh came again. “He said he sacked you.”
“No, he didn’t,” Lucien replied, “He just told you I bought weed, you thought the rest.”
“He lied when he told me you weren’t around,” Frain continued. “The Tribes don’t like a liar.”
“He wasn’t lying,” Lucien replied. “He didn’t know I was here. I didn’t follow orders and came after him.”
“That was a stupid thing to have done.”