She retrieved her paddles and the outrigger moved purposefully through the crystal water, past the lush coastline towards the end of the crescent. It performed a neat curve and crunched up on the beach. Kydd got out and helped pull the craft clear of the water.
Without a pause, she held him by the hand and pulled him towards a rocky point. 'Lahi hakau loaloa’ she urged. They ran together over the wet sand and up to a tiny track over the rocks. It wound around the point and past a beach to the weather side of the island, an undercut ledge of sea-roughened lava. They stood together, watching the waves approach in a long, easy heave and swell.
Suddenly, Kydd was aware of an exhalation, a hoarse, laboured breathing out like a huge whale. There was a sudden thump and within seconds a giant gout of water roared up beside them and fell, soaking them. Tamaha laughed excitedly, her hair streaming. Heart hammering with shock, Kydd saw that she had lost her modesty in the deluge, her breasts were now quite bare. The water shot up again and descended once more.
As it receded Tamaha gripped his arms and looked into his face. She pointed to the blowhole once with emphasis, then slid her hands up both sides of his hips and brought them up, palms together. Kydd drew her face towards him, and gentiy kissed it. She looked up with a dazzling smile, and they walked hand in hand to a grassy patch in front of a cave. It was the most natural and the most desirable thing in the world. She drew him down and they lost themselves in passion.
Hand in hand they returned to the beach, and lay together in sleep under the tall palms, letting shadow patterns dance across their bodies and a warm zephyr play softly over them.
When Kydd awoke, Tamaha was gone, and the sun had descended in the sky. He sat up. A griping in his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten.
He ambled along the beach and saw Mullion, who lifted a hand in recognition and passed out of sight into the thick undergrowth. Closer to, he realised that something was going on there. He followed Mullion along the path to a clearing. On a fallen palm-tree sat Haynes and standing next to him was Crow, who held a gunner's notebook and pencil. Mullion crossed to Haynes, and after a low conversation he was handed an article, which he hastily pocketed.
Curious, Kydd went over. Haynes looked up. 'Kydd, yer wouldn't be lookin' fer favours now, would ye?'
'Wha . . .'
'Petty officer an' messmate pays th' same.' Haynes's gravelly voice held no warmth. Kydd was clearly missing something; he hesitated. Cundall entered the clearing and leered at Kydd, then went straight to Haynes.
'Two on yer account.' Crow sucked his teeth and made an entry in his notebook.
'C'n yer tell us what's the goin' rate?' Cundall asked, pocketing two large iron nails.
'One nail fer short time, bit o' hoop iron fer all night in,' Crow said.
'Then I'll also 'ave some iron,' Cundall said, 'cheaper in th' long run.' A hacked off piece of barrel iron emerged from the sack Haynes had under the tree trunk, and changed hands. 'Surprises me you should need persuasions,' Cundall said to Kydd, and left.
At this rate Artemis would be bled of her stores, thought Kydd, but knew in his heart that he would find it difficult to condemn. 'Not t'day,' he told Haynes, and left.
At the other end of the lagoon three men rolled along the beach, one clutching a bottle. Kydd grinned at their antics. 'Heigh-ho!' said John Jones, gesturing with his bottle at the canoes drawn up on the sand. 'An' it's haaands to muster — man the larb'd cutter!' The others laughed and cackled. 'Look alive, yer parcel o' rogues!' His imitation of Parry was nearly perfect.
Jones went down the beach to one of the canoes. 'Launch-ho, mates,' he called, making ready to slip the craft into the warm lagoon. The others lurched up; a paddle around the limpid waters would be just the ticket. 'An' it's one, two, six an' a heeeavvy!’ he roared. The canoe shot into the water, but slewed sideways, sending Jones backwards into the water. The others roared with laughter but the flailing man suddenly screamed - a deathly, inhuman shriek that paralysed Kydd. The laughter fell away into uncertainty, the men staring fuddled and confused at the thrashing man.
Kydd hurled himself down the beach and into the water. As he splashed to the man he saw a nondescript fish flip away on the bottom; warty, ugly, the colour of mud but with glaring red eyes and a gaping mouth that grotesquely opened and closed. The man's body arched out of the water with pain, and Kydd's attempts to drag him from the water were hopeless. 'Y' useless bastards! Bear a hand here!' he screamed.
They held down the unfortunate sailor on the beach and tried to find the source of the excruciating pain. Kydd ripped off his shirt and saw it — two small red marks under the nipple with a rapidly whitening outer area. The man's eyes bulged and his arms beat on the sand. His breathing turned to deep gasps, and despite the restraining weight of several men, his hands scrabbled at his throat. His screams deteriorated to hoarse croaks. Kydd saw the whitened area extend over the chest as the man suffocated in front of him; the body drooped with occasional muscle twitches and the light departed from his eyes.