It was as if his thinking of them had brought them upon the scene. Grizquetr, who’d been stationed in a tree as a sentinel, called down, “I see a torch! It’s somewhere in the woods, about half a mile away. Oh! There’s another one! And another one!”
Green said, “Do you think they’re on the path that leads here?”
“I don’t know. But they’re coming this way, winding here and there, wandering like Samdroo when he was lost in the Mirrored Mazes of Gil-Ka-Ku, The Black One! Yes, they must be on the path!”
Green began feverishly tying the davit-ropes to the axles of the craft. He sweated with anxiety and cursed when his fumbling fingers got in the way of his haste. But the tying of the four bowknots actually took less than a minute, in spite of the way time seemed to race past him.
That done he had to order off the yacht some of the women who had climbed aboard. Only the women who had to take care of very small infants and the older children were to be on that boat.
“Just who do you think is going to work the winch?” he barked at the too-eager. “Now, jump to it!”
One of the women on the ‘roller wailed, “Are you going to stay on the island and leave us all alone on this ‘roller in the midst of the Xurdimur?”
“No,” he answered, as calmly as possible. “We’re going to lower you to the ground. Then we’re going back up the hill and shove the other ‘rollers over the edge so that they can’t be used by the savages to come after us. We’ll jump off and walk back to you.”
Seeing that the women were still not convinced and softened by their pitiable looks, he called to Grizquetr.
“Come down! And get on the boat!”
And when the boy had run down the slope and halted by his side, breathing hard and looking up at him for his orders, Green said, “I’m delegating you to guard these women and babies until we arrive. Okay?”
“Okay,” said Grizquetr, grinning, his chest swelling because of the importance of the duty. “I’m captain until you climb aboard, is that it?”
“You’re a captain and a good one too,” said Green, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. Then he ordered the winches turned until the ‘roller was hoisted into the air a few inches. As soon as the rusty machines had groaningly fulfilled their functions he had the craft lowered over the edge and down to the plain. The transition was smoothly made; the yacht’s wheels began turning; the nose lifted only slightly because of the superior pull on the ropes tied to the bow; the stem ropes were paid out a little to equalize the strain; then, obeying Green’s gesture, the women aboard it pulled at the bowknots, which untied simultaneously. Not until then did he breathe a little easier, for if one or more had refused to slip loose as swiftly as another, the craft might have been pulled up on one side or dragged around by either end and thus capsized.
For a few seconds he watched the ‘roller slip away, coasting on its momentum but headed at right angles to the direction of the island. Then it had stopped, and it began to grow smaller as the island left it behind. From it came the thin wailing of his daughter Paxi. It broke the spell that momentarily held him. He began running up the slope, shouting, “Follow me!”
Reaching the crest of the hill ahead of the others, he took time for a glance through the woods. Sure enough, torches bobbed up and down and flickered in and out as they passed between tree trunks. And there were drums beating somewhere on the island.
Lady Luck shot out of the woods, leaped upon Green’s knee, scaled his shirt front and came to rest upon his shoulder. “Ah, you wandering wench, you,” he said, “I knew you couldn’t stay away from my irresistible charm, now could you?”
Lady Luck didn’t reply but gazed anxiously at the forest.
“Never fear, my pretty little one,” he said. “They’ll not touch a hair of my fine blond head. Nor a silky black one of yours.”
By then the others, puffing and panting, had gained the top of the hill. He set them to pushing on the stern of a yacht, and in a minute they had sent it headlong down the hill. When it rushed over the edge and disappeared with a crash on the plain below they had all they could do to restrain their cheers. Small revenge for the suffering they’d had to undergo. But it was something.
“Now for the other,” said Green. “Then everybody run as if the demons of Gil-Ka-Ku were on your tails!”
Grunting, they pushed the last ‘roller up the little incline, then gathered their strength for the final heave that would launch it, too, upon its last voyage.
And at that moment some savages who’d been running ahead of the torch-bearers burst out of the woods.
Green took one look and realized that they would get between the edge of the island and his party. There were about ten of them; they not only outnumbered his own force but were strong men against women. And they had spears, whereas his people were armed mainly with cutlasses.
Green didn’t waste any time in meditation. “Everybody aboard except Miran and me!” he said loudly. “Don’t argue! Get in! We’re riding through them! Lie flat on the deck!”
Screaming, the women scrambled over the low rail and onto the deck. As soon as the last one was on, the Earthman and Miran put their shoulders to the stern and pushed. For a second it looked as though their combined strength would not be enough, as if the party should have shoved the craft a little further over the lip of the hill before stopping.
“There’s not time to get them out again to help us!” panted Green. “Dig in, Miran, get that fat into gear, shove, damn you, shove!”
It seemed to him that he was breaking his own collarbone under the pressure and that he’d never felt such hard and cutting wood in all his life. And it seemed that the ‘roller was stubbornly refusing to move until the cannibals arrived in time to save it, like the Marines. His legs quivered, and his intestines, he was sure, were writhing about like snakes, striking here and there against the wall of his belly, seeking a weak place where they might erupt through into the open air and leave this man who subjected them to such toil.
There was a shout from the warriors assembled below and a thud of their feet as they charged up.
“Now or never!” shouted Green.
His face felt like one big blood vessel, and he was sure that he was going to blow his top, literally. But the ‘roller moved forward, crept slowly, groaned—or was that he?—and began moving swiftly, too swiftly, down the slope. Too swiftly, because he had to run after it, grab the taffrail and haul himself over. And while he was doing that he had to extend a hand to Miran, who wasn’t as fast on his feet.
Fortunately Amra had presence of mind enough to grab Miran by the shoulder of his shirt and help pull. Over the rail he came, crying out in pain as his big stomach burned against the hard mahogany, but not forgetting the bag of jewels clutched in his hand.
Lady Luck had already deserted her post on Green’s shoulder when he began pushing. Now she meowed softly and pressed against him, scared at the shaking of the deck and the rumbling of the wheels as the craft sped downhill.
He pulled her to him in the protection of the crook of his arm, and reared up on his elbow to see what he could see. What he saw was a spear flying straight at him. It shot by so close he fancied he could feel the sharp edge of its blade graze him, and there was nothing of his imagination about the woman’s scream that rose immediately afterward. It sounded so much like Amra that he was sure she’d been hit; however, he had no time to turn and find out. An islander had appeared by the side of the yacht, and as the deck was on a level with his chest, the fellow could see them all easily enough. His arm flew back, then leaped forward, and the spear he held darted straight at Green.
No, not at him, but at Lady Luck. Another