The Warrior's Path (1980) s-3 Read online

  "When such slaves are sold, they are usually sold on order from the customer. They have the sale made, and they seek out the merchandise, subject to approval of the buyer. In this case the buyer died--a duel, I believe--so he was left with the merchandise."

  " 'He'?"

  "Only that. I say no more. The result was that he held a quiet little auction, a secluded place, only a few trustworthy and possible customers.

  "The wench was bold. She appeared before them, and she looked over the lot and saw our man--her man--and looked right into his eyes. 'You,' she said. 'I want it to be you.'

  "There was some bidding, of course, for she was a likely lass, but several had heard what she said and had lost interest. Our man bought her.

  "He bought his clothes from me, so I had the story from his own lips, and an amazing story it was! On that first night when they arrived, he was about to order her confined when she demanded to speak with him alone.

  "Once alone, she faced him boldly. 'You have a slave,' she said, 'and you may have a willing slave or wife--'

  "Wife?" he exclaimed.

  " 'Wife,' she said, 'or slave, whichever you like, it matters not a whit to me, but treat me like a lady, and I shall respond like one. Treat me as a slave, and I will make your life a hell.'

  "She gestured. 'This place needs care. It is rich and beautiful, but it needs someone who loves it ... and you. I have never kept a house like this, but I can, and for you I will. My father, while he lived, had a small business. He traded to the Indies and to England. I helped him keep his accounts. I can help with yours. You will come home tired, and I can make you comfortable. If you wish to talk, I can both talk and listen. So choose. Am I to be a slave brought to your bed when you need me, or your aide, your mistress, and your friend?'"

  Jayne chuckled. "You can imagine. The man in question was a quiet sort and had not really planned on buying a woman. In fact, the idea was furthest from his mind. I suspect he both wanted and needed someone desperately, and he went to see what sort of woman could be had. Now he had one, and her nerve appealed to him.

  " 'You will not try to run away?' he asked.

  " 'Why? Would I run from a man I wanted to buy me? Would I be so foolish? I had no home. Now you can give me one. I had no one to serve. Now I can serve you.'

  "He put her in a spare bedroom, and of course she did not run away. When he came in from riding about the plantation, his robe and slippers were ready for him. Where his former wife had been cold and selfish; Adele was warm and seemed to think only of his comfort."

  "But was she honest? Was not this all a sort of game?"

  "That's just it. She was honest. She sincerely liked the man, as she had known she would from the start, but also she had seen the need in him and the loneliness. She had an instinct for such things.

  "Within a few months he was living better than he ever had, was enjoying life for the first time, and was completely happy."

  "And then?"

  "He married her. Oh, he did not have to! She told him that, plainly enough, but it was his wish. And he never regretted it."

  "He is dead?"

  "On the contrary, he is very much alive. At this moment she probably knows more about his plantation than he does, but she seems not to. Here and there she makes a suggestion ... only that. But he listens, and they have prospered."

  Augustus Jayne sat back and smiled, eyes twinkling. " 'They are living happily ever after,' " he said.

  "But what makes you think she is the one I seek?"

  He chuckled, then grew serious. "The timing is right, or close to right. But that is not all. A few weeks ago I was at their place, seeing him fitted for a court dress. They were going to a ball at the governor's palace.

  "He had not come in from the fields when I arrived, and she sat me down and told me she knew something about me--which her husband did not, I am sure--and that she wanted information about a certain man. About Joseph Pittingel."

  I was startled. "Why? Why about him? I should think--"

  "So should I have thought. That she would have had quite enough of him. But you mistake the lady. She has iron in her system, that one. Joseph Pittingel treated her with contempt. She despised him. She wanted something to use against him."

  "Then she might help me!"

  "What is it you want of her?"

  "Evidence. A sworn statement as to what happened. I want to see the whole shameful business destroyed."

  Jayne shook his head. "You will ask too much, my friend Sackett. Adele--she allows me to call her that--will not do it. She would have to reveal herself. She would have to go before a court or the governor or a notary and make a statement that would reveal all. She will not do it, not for herself but because of him. Because of the man she married.

  "You see, no one knows. She is a woman of mystery, appearing from nowhere, and by the first time she appeared with him, she was his wife, completely in command of herself and her future.

  "No, I am afraid not. She will not risk all for you, nor for revenge. She has other ideas in mind."

  "Such as?"

  "She wants the man destroyed, ruined, finished. I do not think she cares whether he is dead or alive when it is over. She wants him ruined for what he tried to do to her and for what he has done to others."

  "Well, I shall just have to go see her."

  Augustus Jayne smiled smugly again. "That will not be necessary. She is here ... now."

  Chapter XIII

  He held aside the curtain into an inner room, and I stepped through. There was also a door, I noticed, that was hidden by the curtain. That door had remained open, and now he paused beside it. "I have much to do, and you will have much to discuss. Kin Ring Sackett, Madam Adele Legare."

  He stepped out and closed the door behind him. She was not beautiful except for her eyes, which were. She was a striking young woman with a voluptuous figure. Her hair was blonde, shading toward red, and her eyes blue.

  "Kin Ring Sackett. It is an unusual name. You are from Carolina."

  "From the mountains, madam. You must excuse me. I fear I have few of the social graces."

  "You know about me, so I will waste no time. Besides, we have no time. Max Bauer is in town, and he is at work, and that means he will have made arrangements to have you killed."

  "You evidently know the man."

  "I do. And do not take him lightly. You may be sure he has no intention of letting you get out of Port Royal alive unless he does what he did to a man who tried to help me."

  "What did he do?"

  "He was a good man. Oh, I suspect he had been bad enough in his way, but he was good to me and tried to help me."

  She paused. "Max Bauer put out his eyes and cut out his tongue."

  I was shocked, and she saw it. She shrugged. "Worse things can happen here, and in England as well. I need not tell you that, but he was a good man."

  "What happened to him?"

  "He lives here. He has a cottage on a hill where there is a view, and he weaves baskets, rugs. They are for sale. I have seen to it that he is cared for, but he is a proud man and chooses to earn his own way."

  She turned suddenly back to me. "You look to be a strong man. Could you kill Max Bauer?"

  "You mistake me, madam. I do not plan to kill him, only to put a stop to this business. I want evidence that will show Pittingel for what he is."

  "Do you think that will stop them? They will simply move to some other place. Oh, it would hurt Pittingel! He likes being an important man! He likes putting on airs and strutting about! As for the name, even that doesn't belong to him. I've not been able to discover just what his name was. I know the one he had before this, but I think he borrowed that one, also.

  "That is not important. The man is evil, and Max Bauer is as well. I want them destroyed."

  "If I could return to Cape Ann with a sworn statement--?"

  "Out of the question. For myself I do not care; for my husband I care very much. He has his position and his pride. No one
here knows where I came from. I do not want them to know."

  "You seem to have changed much in a year."

  "A year? What is a year? All time is relative. One day may be a lifetime, a year can be forever. It is not the number of days but what goes into those days.

  "I was a young girl. I was free, independent, unrestrained... often, I am afraid, disobedient. Suddenly I was a prisoner, and life was nothing to be accepted day by day as I had been doing. I was to be sold as a slave, and the realization was not pleasant. I had decisions to make, and quickly if I was to survive at all.

  "My friend, he who was blinded because of me, warned me of what I might expect, slavery to some brute on an outlying plantation, then sold to a brothel when I became tiresome. It was plain that if I were to survive I must think."

  "You became quite a woman."

  "Who is in love with her husband."

  I flushed. "I did not mean--"

  "I know you did not. I simply wanted it understood. I will do nothing that will create difficulty for him."

  "Does Bauer know where you are now? To whom you are married?"

  "I think not. I was nobody to be concerned with, merely another body to be shuffled off for a price. Neither was present when I was put up for auction, and there were few present, mostly from other islands. Anyway, I look much different now. Nonetheless, I do not underrate the man."

  "I had hoped to get a sworn statement from you that I could use against Pittingel."

  "Impossible. What I will do is whatever I can, as long as I do not have to appear."

  "Thank you." I started to turn away when a question stopped me.

  "The two girls who escaped? Who were they?"

  "Diana Macklin and Carrie Penney. My brother is married to Temperance Penney."

  "We were friends, although her family did not approve." She smiled suddenly, amused at herself. "I was considered headstrong."

  She frowned suddenly. "I liked Diana. Although we did not often talk, we were friends. I worried about her, for people were suspicious of her. She was brighter than the others and more independent."

  Briefly I explained something of the situation in the time since she had left. Knowing all concerned, it was easy for her to understand all that had taken place. As I talked, I found myself admiring her very much. Here was a girl who had literally lifted herself from adversity and worse simply by using her wits. Admittedly there was a good deal of luck in having such a man as Legare come to the sale, yet who could guess what else she might have contrived had it been some other?

  "They know you, then? Be careful. Augustus Jayne warned me they were in Port Royal. They come here often, but I do so but rarely. You must be careful."

  "And you?"

  "Do not worry about me." She held out her hand, then turned toward a rear door. "We have an enemy in common, at least. Go now. I must get away from here without being seen." Again she paused. "Do not worry about me. I have friends here and protection. I cannot help you in the way you would like, but I shall not rest until they are destroyed."

  She spoke quite calmly, but I needed no seer to tell me she spoke the truth. Young she might be, but she had been through the fires, and there was steel in her.

  Back in the front shop there were two men now, seated cross-legged on a table, sewing. Augustus Jayne was nowhere about, and at the door my eyes swept the street.

  It was crowded with sailors from the ships, pirates, and with an occasional planter from the back country or a soldier in uniform and a liberal assortment of blacks, some of them showing signs of Carib blood.

  A drunken sailor, reeking of rum, staggered past, leaning for a moment against a post. In his ear was a ring, sparkling with diamonds. On the fingers of the hand nearest me he wore three others, gold and gems. He caught my glance and bared his broken teeth in what passed for a smile. "Got more where them come from! I got a-plenty!" With that he staggered on.

  Looking up, I caught the eyes of a sour-looking man with a black forelock and a scar on his cheekbone. The same blow must have taken the tip of his ear, too, for it was missing. As our eyes met, he looked quickly away. Why? His expression had been almost guilty.

  A heavy cart drawn by two oxen was coming along the street, piled high with barrels. Suddenly I ducked across in front of it, so close the oxen almost broke stride, and their driver cursed me roundly. For an instant the cart and its load barred any view of me, and I ducked instantly into a small shop and made my way toward the rear.

  A glance back showed not one but two men dart across the street. The man with the scar started up the street; the other one turned down.

  Only a moment and they would be back, looking in here. I went to the back of the shop, and a man stepped before me. "You would be wanting something?"

  "To see the owner," I said, "at once!"

  He hesitated, not liking me but obviously impressed by my appearance. "Well ... wait, then."

  He turned and went through a curtain at the back. Again I looked back. Nothing ... yet.

  After what seemed a long time, the clerk reappeared. "This way, Captain," he said.

  Time, I needed time, if only a few minutes. I went through the curtain and saw a man in square-cut glasses looking up at me. He was a short, fat man with a round, almost completely bald head. He had a small, tight little mouth that I instantly distrusted, but that was of no importance now.

  "What is it?" he demanded irritably. "I've no time for--"

  "I was told," I suggested, "that you were a man who might have something to sell." I paused just a moment. "Something other than that claptrap out there," I jerked my head toward the front of the store.

  He sat back in his chair and stared at me. His eyes were cold and cruel. He was not a man with whom I should have liked to deal. "Now who could have told you that?" He stared at me. "I know naught of you. If you have business to do with me, there's the store out front. I thought you was somebody else when I told them to put you back to me. Now be off."

  It had been only a minute. The spies, killers, whoever they were, might be out front this moment.

  "There are gems," I said, "and then there are real gems. I look for the odd thing, the unusual thing, and I can arrange payment."

  He shuffled papers on his desk. "I've naught," he said gruffly, "and there's fifty people about who might." He peered up at me from his fat-lidded eyes. "Who was it sent you to me? I'll no talk no more until you tell me."

  Only one name came to mind. "Pittingel," I said, "although I doubt he'd want his name mentioned."

  Slowly he put his quill down. "Pittingel? Now what would he be telling of me? What, indeed? And to whom?"

  "I'm lately from the Carolinas," I said, "and before that from Mexico."

  I hoped he would not ask after Mexico, for I knew nothing of the place.

  "What is it you'd be wanting?"

  "It is as I said. Gems ... a big one, or two. Gold, if it is hand crafted and not melted down." I was doing what I could to keep off the street until they should have decided I was far away.

  "Gems!" he shrugged. "There be enough of those about, taken from Spanish vessels." He waved a hand. "Go ask about. You'll find a pretty lot of them!"

  "I look for only one or two, large stones," I added. "I have a market but only for the large ones."

  Abruptly I turned away. "I waste time. This is no place. I was informed--"

  "Aye," he said dryly, "and of that I would know more. Pittingel, you said? I scarce know the man, so would he send you to me? Or anybody for that matter."

  "I'll go," I said. "I came to talk business-"

  "And you shall," he said quietly. "Talk business, indeed! Do you take me for a fool? You're a spy! A bleeding spy!"

  He snorted. "Pittingel, indeed! Aye, I know the man, but he knows little enough of me! And you to come with such a story, to me of all people! 'A large stone,' he says! Aye, is it a likely thing to come into such a place as mine, which sells sailors' truck and such, looking for gems?"

  Taking
another step back, I started to turn toward the curtain through which I had come. Unwittingly I had stumbled into some other affair of which I knew nothing and wished to know nothing.

  "Obviously," I said, "we talk to no point. Perhaps another time--"

  "Now," he said, and from under his desk he produced a formidable-looking pistol. The click of its cocking was loud in the room. "Sit down. I will have my boys in, and we shall know more about you, my young fool."

  He shouted suddenly. "Harry! Tom! Here, at once!"

  His pistol was gripped in his hand, but it was merely held, and he believed the threat was enough, but I kicked my chair toward him, just enough to make him jerk back from sheer instinct, and then I was through the curtains and found myself facing a burly fellow with more confidence than is usually permitted a man.

  "Here, now! Just back up there! I will--!"

  "Not now," I said, and kicked him on the kneecap. He bent over, grabbing at his injured knee with a howl, and I jerked my knee into his face, then pushed him aside with the flat of my hand and went for the outer door. A slim lad with an evil face awaited me there, but he stepped aside, smiling in no friendly fashion. "My time will come later," he said. "It always does!"

  With that I was on the street and around the corner, across the street and around another corner. What manner of place was this Port Royal? Was there a den of thieves wherever a man looked? I had but stepped into a store--no matter.

  Back at the tavern I went at once to the room and sat down upon the bench, throwing my hat upon the bed. As I did so, my eye caught a flutter from the table where sat the bowl and pitcher.

  A bit of paper, held down by the bowl. I opened its one fold.

  Madame Legare has been taken. Meet me near mouth of Rio Cobre, near Santiago de la Vega. No later than midnight.

  Henry

  For a moment I stood still, thinking. Madame Legare taken! She had escaped them once, but she would not do so again, and her husband, a good, well-meaning man, was probably not the kind to deal effectively with Bauer. Yet it was my responsibility, for it was I who had brought her to his attention.