Artemis(101)

'Retire by twos,' Party whispered fiercely. Stunned, Kydd slid back. They returned to the stockade in silence, something about their manner communicating itself to the waiting seamen.

Powlett rounded on Fairfax. 'They know we're here, and they're not worried. That's not good. If they take it into their heads to make a sally, we'll be put to severe hazard.' He looked soberly at Gurney. 'Is it likely they will?'

'They stand t' take a lot o' plunder if they do - an' more'n that. Whoever gets t' kill a white man gets plenty o' face as a warrior. They won't attack at night, the gods don't like it, but tomorrow . . .'

Parry snorted. 'We can blast them to kingdom come with Artemis’s great guns.'

Powlett glanced at him. 'So we have wise shot, Mr Parry, which knows to seek out only the enemy? At that range off-shore we cannot reach the savages without we hurt our own. No — the scientificals have nearly concluded their work, we have no further business here, and therefore there is only one course I will contemplate. We evacuate the island immediately.'

Muttering began among the men, but Powlett smiled grimly. 'Those who wish to linger I have no doubt will be right royally entertained by the savages.' He glanced up at the sun. 'We'll not complete today. Get as much of the stores back aboard before sunset as you can, Mr Fairfax, the scientificals can remain until first light if they wish, the ship's company will take a two-watch guard. I want to be at sea at dawn.'

More shaken than he cared to admit, Kydd took his place at the stockade, but his mind was on Renzi, lost somewhere in the interior. Not having any real means of communication with anyone he would be alone at a time of appalling danger — and tomorrow was his last chance at escape.

Kydd felt tears prick, whether selfishly because he had lost a true sea companion, or for helplessness at Renzi's dire plight, it didn't matter. A thought began to force itself on his consciousness, a growing, pressing thought. He shuffled along the stockade until he found the end where it met the sea in an untidy pile of logs. 'That you, Toby?' he called.

Stirk was there and grunted a reply. Dark was rapidly falling, and if Kydd was going to do anything it would have to be in the blackness of night before moonrise. 'I know where Renzi is,' he said, in a low voice. Stirk's eyes gleamed in the dying light of the day but he didn't reply. 'I'm goin' after him.'

'Yer want help, mate?' Stirk said. Kydd felt a surge of feeling: here was what it meant to be shipmates.

'No, Toby, I need y' here so when we gets back, you c'n let us back in,' Kydd said. He had no plan, simply an urge to get to Renzi. He hesitated. A musket would impede his progress considerably, and a cutlass didn't have the reach compared to spears and clubs. He would go unarmed.

He splashed around the end of the stockade. 'Luck, matey!' Stirk called quietly. Kydd stepped out nervously, imagining unseen eyes on him, with capture and a hideous death to follow. His skin crawled, but he went on towards the trail leading to the clearing where Haynes had held his trade and which connected with the small path leading inland.

Every bush and broad leaf that brushed his face and every root that grabbed at his ankles made his heart thump. The sky was splashed with stars, but die earth was in inky blackness. The foliage fell away — he had reached the far side of the plateau, and would be able to follow along its fringe until he reached the forest path he sought. If anyone could see him from the stockade, which was doubtful in the gloom, they would believe him to be a savage.

Here — was this the place where he and Renzi had begun their final ascent to the peak? For a minute of panic he could not recognise the area, but remembered the casuarina with its feathery leaves overshadowing the track. He plunged forward. The moist cool of the night was laced with odours of decaying vegetation and night blooms.

Things rustled and snapped. Panting loudly in the quiet of the woodland he wound his way up to where the escarpment bulked large and black against the stars. He paused, trying to remember the topography. Up here — they had seen the other side of the island from this place. Cautiously Kydd drew near.

There - the other side of the island was already under the full radiance of a splendid moon, but what chilled Kydd was the distant sight of not one but four fires below. He could see some figures moving, others still, and his heightened imagination told him that frightened souls were still tied to the trees. There would be fresh meat in the morning.

He pulled away. Where would Renzi have gone from here? Only one way: along the base of the escarpment to the opposite end. Kydd struck out and after only a few hundred yards came to its end. He stepped warily, then stopped dead. Two figures appeared out of the dark, stark against the moonlight.

'Nicholas? Is that you?' he hissed. The figures stood rigid, before one broke away and approached Kydd.