Birds of Prey - Smith Wilbur (версия книг TXT) 📗

"I will send in another raiding party to put those guns out of the game," Ryker cut in. "As long as we can devise a system of signals to co-ordinate our attacks." They spent another hour working out a code with flag and smoke between the ships and the shore. By this time the blood of both Ryker and Schreuder was a-boil, and they were vying for the opportunity to win battle honours.

Why should I risk my own sailors when these heroes are eager to do the work for me? the Buzzard thought happily. Aloud he said, "I commend you, gentlemen. That is excellent planning. I take it you will delay the attacks on the batteries at the entrance until Colonel Schreuder has brought up his main force of infantry through the forest and is in a position to launch the main assault on the rear of the pirate encampment."

"Yes, quite so," Schreuder agreed eagerly. "But as soon as the batteries on the heads have been put out of action, your ships will provide the diversion by sailing in through them and bombarding the pirates" encampment. That will be the signal for me to launch my land attack into their rear.

"We will give you our full support." Cumbrae nodded, thinking comfortably to himself, How hungry he is for glory, and restrained an avuncular urge to pat him on the shoulder. The idiot is welcome to my share of the cannonballs, just as long as I can get my hands on the prize. Then he looked speculatively at Captain Ryker. It only remained to arrange that the Sonnevogel lead the squadron through the heads into the lagoon, and in the process draw the main attentions of Franky's culver ins along the edge of the forest. It might be to his advantage if she were to sustain heavy damage before Franky was overwhelmed. If the Buzzard were in command of the only seaworthy ship at the end of the battle, he would be able to dictate his own terms when it came to disposing of the spoils of war.

"Captain Ryker," he said with an arrogant flourish, "I claim the honour of leading the squadron into the lagoon in my gallant little Gull. My ruffians would not forgive me if I let you go ahead of us."

Ryker's lips set stubbornly. "Sir!" he said stiffly. "The Sonnevogel is more heavily armed, and better able to resist the balls of the enemy. I must insist that you allow me to lead the entry into the lagoon."

And that takes care of that, thought the Buzzard, as he bowed his head in reluctant acquiescence.

Three days later they put Colonel Schreuder and his three companies of seasick musketeers ashore on a deserted beach and watched them march away into the African wilderness in a long untidy column.

The African night was hushed but never silent. When Hal paused on the narrow path, his father's light footfalls dwindled ahead of him, and Hal could hear the soft sounds of myriad life that teemed in the forest around him. the warbling call of a night bird, more hauntingly beautiful than ever musician coaxed from stringed instrument, the scrabbling of rodents and other tiny mammals among the dead leaves and the sudden murderous cry of the small feline predators that hunted them, the singing and hum of the insects and the eternal soughing of the wind. All were part of the hidden choir in this temple of Pan.

The beam of the storm lantern disappeared ahead of him, and now he stepped out to catch up. When they had left the encampment, his father had ignored his question, but when at last they emerged from the forest at the foot of the hills, he knew where they were going. The stones that still marked the Lodge within which he had taken his vows formed a ghostly circle in the glow of the waning moon. At the entry to it Sir Francis went down on one knee and bowed his head in prayer. Hal knelt beside him.

"Lord God, make me worthy," Hal prayed. "Give me the strength to keep the vows I made here in your name."

His father lifted his head at last. He stood up, took Hal's hand and raised him to his feet. Then, side by side, they stepped into the circle and approached the altar stone. "In Arcadia habito! Sir Francis said, in his deep, lilting voice, and Hal gave the response.

"Flumen sac rum bene cognosco!"

Sir Francis set the lantern upon the tall stone and, in its yellow light, they knelt again. For a long while they prayed in silence, until Sir Francis looked up at the sky. "The stars are the ciphers of the Lord. They light our comings and our goings. They guide us across uncharted oceans. They hold our destiny in their coils. They measure the number of our days."

Hal's eyes went immediately to his own particular star, Regulus. Timeless and unchanging it sparkled in the sign of the Lion.

"Last night I cast your horoscope," Sir Francis told him. "There is much that I cannot reveal, but this I can tell you. The stars hold a singular destiny in store for you. I was not able to fathom its nature."

There was a poignancy in his father's tone, and Hal looked at him.

His features were haggard, the shadows beneath his eyes deep and dark.

"If the stars are so favourably inclined, what is it that troubles you, Father?"

"I have been harsh to you. I have driven you hard." Hal shook his head. "Father, -" But Sir Francis quieted him with a hand on his arm. "You must remember always why I did this to you. If I had loved you less, I would have been kinder to you." His grip on Hal's arm tightened as he felt Hal draw breath to speak. "I have tried to prepare you and give you the knowledge and strength to meet that particular destiny that the stars have in store for you. Do you understand that?"

"Yes. I have known this all along. Aboli explained it to me.

"Aboli is wise. He will be with you when I have gone." "No, Father. Do not speak of that."

"My son, look to the stars," Sir Francis replied, and Hal hesitated, uncertain of his meaning. "You know which is my own star. I have shown it to you a hundred times before. Look for it now in the sign of the Virgin."

Hal raised his face to the heavens, and turned it to the east where Regulus still showed, bright and clear. His eyes ran on past it into the sign of the Virgin, which lay close beside the Lion, and he gasped, his breath hissing through his lips with superstitious dread.