He became more uncomfortable than ever at the thought of going away without her; there would be a void in his life, and it would be strange not to have her near, not to be bolstered by the knowledge that he could see her whenever he wished. He even had to face the possibility that he might never see her again, but she would be safer, far safer, here in the Land of the Maroons. If his plans succeeded, he could come back for her, and keep his promise to her father. He didn't enjoy thinking of the captain and his pledge to him. On the other hand, if he failed, Janine would be secure here until her father came to Jamaica and rescued her.
Meantime, he tried to reassure himself that she was young, that she was resilient, and that perhaps the experience would not leave a permanent hurt. As for himself, he could not ignore the possibility that he might find solace, more than solace, perhaps, with Esther Mary Pennywell.
He stole another covert glance at Janine.
Angrily he tried to shut her out of his mind. The meeting was about to begin, and he concentrated on the proceedings. The commander, wearing his ceremonial feathered cape, walked into the middle of the great square and silenced the low murmur of conversation with a wave of his hand.
It was several seconds before he could overcome his emotions, and when he finally spoke, his voice shook. "My children," he said, "our people have fallen on evil days. We have lived in peace for decades, and we had long believed that the present governor general in Port Royal would not seek the blood of those who do not molest him.
"But we are wrong, our judgment has been proven wrong. Forces have been at work, evil forces, and he is no longer a man of peace. Those of you who are able to understand the language of the drums know that a punitive expedition has taken the field against us. The brigade has already left Port Royal, and those who serve us in the city report that the soldiers will make camp tonight on the Liguanea Plain. They intend to launch their attack against us tomorrow. I need hardly tell you that we have a few surprises in store for them.'*
A ragged cheer went up from the Maroons, but the old man again silenced them with his hand. "Our women, our children, and our elderly men will remain here in the village. Our younger men will repel the invader."
This time the cheer was louder, and the commander allowed himself the luxury of a watery smile. "May the God of the Christians and the many gods of Obeah favor our enterprise!" he shouted, and his voice was both strong and vigorous now. "We have the right on our side, for we wish harm to no one and only ask to be allowed to live in peace. Do not be afraid, my children. Be calm, be confident, for the right will triumphl"
Arnold Rifle-Shoot stood on a hillock deep in the jungle and peered out across the treetops below him toward the barren wastes of the Liguanea Plain. His blue eyes were cold and searching, and he neither moved nor spoke for many long minutes at a time. But the man beside him did not complain, nor did he find the silence oppressive. He was an Arawak Indian, clad only in a breechcloth, with a short bow and a quiver of poisoned arrows slung over his shoulder; small and wiry, he too watched the plain for some sign of movement.
Finally it was the Indian who stirred. "Enemy must come soon, Arnold," he said in clipped, harsh accents. "Last drum message tell that army of Governor pass Twin River in early morning. Look at sun now." He pointed almost straight up.
"They're probably encumbered and can't travel any faster than their baggage train." Arnold stroked his chin thoughtfully. *'I'm sorry they weren't foolish enough to bring their cannon with them, for artillery would be of no use to them in the type of battle we're planning. However," he added, smiling grimly but never taking his eyes from the plain, "Gabriel's drum message that they're bringing up many wagon carts ought to be enough to cheer us on a hot spring day."
"I wish Gabriel tell us how many soldier in enemy column," the Indian grumbled. "Three times I ask on drum. Three times Gabriel not tell."
Arnold laughed outright and wiped a stream of sweat from his face. "I should have thought of it before. Gabriel can't count. There's your answer, Sidney."
The Arawak was not amused. "Us have two hundred eighty men. Whole brigade have thousand, more than thousand soldier. If whole brigade come, we have plenty much hard time."
"Let's not borrow trouble." A faint cloud of dust appeared on the horizon, and Arnold leaned forward, straining, "What's that, Sidney?"
Sidney grunted. "Enemy come now." He pointed a stubby forefinger toward the dust, which was becoming thicker and more distinct. "Now we have plenty much damn good fight. I take Maroons down into Liguanea now."
"You do and I'll serve your head for supper!" Arnold roared. "Our men will stay right where they are! Why do you think I spent two hours before dawn hiding them in twos and threes in the thickets?"
There was no change in the Arawak's expression. "When big fight come," he answered imperturbably, "much more better we hit enemy first."
Arnold sighed and ran a finger across his sweat-soaked headband. "Be patient for a few minutes and I'll show you why you're wrong. The trouble with you Arawak who have grown up as Maroons is that you've lost your jungle instinct."
There was silence again, and the two men watched tiny dots appear on the horizon, then grow into recognizable figures. After several minutes they could make out the brigade's cavalry squadron in the lead of the march; the troopers were riding four abreast, their plumed metal helmets glinting wickedly in the fierce sunlight. Suddenly the pair on the jungle hilltop heard the sweet strains of trumpets and the high, rhythmic tap of snare drums.
"Roast me in hell if they haven't brought their musicians with them!" Arnold gasped.
For the first time Sidney's stiff features relaxed into a grin. "Jamaica plenty much bad place for white man," he chuckled. "Sun and heat do strange things to white man's head."
"If their orchestra makes them happy, I suppose it's all right," Arnold replied, laughing. "But the worst of their insanity is to bring their cavalry up here. The horsemen can never ride in formation through these forests and jungles of ours. They'll be lucky if they can cut their way through the weeds on foot, leading their horses! Now, Sidney—can you see why I don't want our Maroons to meet the governor's men in the open? Now do you understand why I've ordered our lads to keep hidden?"
The Indian's eyes glowed fiercely, and he unslung his bow from his shoulder, then tested it with thumb and forefinger before replying. "Me know now," he said at last. "You plenty much smart, Arnold. Me Sidney, not plenty much smart. But learn. Enemy going to learn too."
It was the better part of an hour later when the vanguard of the approaching brigade came to a halt at the edge of the jungle. The troopers dismounted and were joined by the members of the trumpet-and-drum corps. Soon the governor general rode up, surrounded by a group of high-ranking officers, and after a brief consultation the companies of infantry were halted too. Foraging parties were sent scouring for dry wood, kettles and food were brought up from the supply wagons, and within a short time the cooks were preparing a hearty meal of beef stew.
The Royal Army of the Caribbean relaxed in style for more than two hours as the officers dined in comfort, served by their orderlies, and the men sprawled on the ground after eating their fill. Horses stood patiently, and the cavalrymen took advantage of the respite by pouring water into sponges concealed inside their steel helmets. Sir Arthur Bartlett and his aides ate a leisurely meal on a snowy cloth spread out before them and drank a variety of wines with their dinner. All the while they conferred earnestly, and occasionally one or another of the party would rise, shade his eyes, and scan the hills.