More Than You Know (29 page)

Other than the fact that she was now addressed as Mrs. Hamilton, Claire did not find her life significantly changed. Mr. Cutch still read to her. The crew still watched out for her. And Macauley Stuart still hovered over her. She saw Rand with no more frequency than she had before they were married. None of this bothered her in the least. In a way it confirmed how firmly held her position had been. She appreciated that no one treated her any differently now that she was the captain's wife.

Claire was aware of a certain edginess that was overtaking her as
Cerberus
neared Pulotu. No one save Macauley Stuart remarked on it, and then only to ascertain the state of her health. It was not that she believed the doctor was more astute than anyone else, only that he was the least comfortable with her shifting moods. Rand, Cutch, and the rest of the crew seemed to expect that she would become unsettled, and they took it in stride.

The spirit island was at the southern tip of the Solonesia group. Rand had its location marked on his charts, but he had never visited it before. His experience with the volcanic islands and atolls that made up all of Polynesia told Rand he could live out his life in the South Pacific and never set foot on every one of them. The smallest hardly rose above the water and could pass unnoticed until a ship was run aground. The larger ones erupted from the blue velvet of the Pacific like brilliant emeralds. Their mountains were lush with dark greenery, and the sun bleached their shores white.

On Rand's chart Pulotu was a triangle of land roughly centered by four atolls. Seen from the crow's nest on
Cerberus,
it was a jagged black rock thrust upward from the sea like the hand of Satan. At least, that was what Paul Dodd reported from his position at the top of the ship.

Claire shook her head when the words reached her. “It's nothing like that,” she told Rand. “He can't see it clearly through the mist."

Rand put one arm around Claire's shoulders. “And you can."

She nodded. “I remember how deeply green the sides of the mountain are. The vegetation is thick and lush. If it weren't for the tapu of the island, it would be a settlement. It can support some crops and has fresh water. My father made his base camp at the southwestern foot of Mauna Puka. It was the best place for a landing. Your charts show the reef, don't they?"

"All along the northern shore,” he said. “Treacherous from the looks of it. Is that where I'll find the tikis?"

"No. You should be able to see them as we approach from the south. They're not as large as the ones on Easter Island, but they're forbidding nonetheless."

"The island itself looks forbidding,” Rand said. Wreathed by the morning mist, it seemed shrouded by volcanic steam. He could imagine hell had opened up and released its fiery heat around this rock. “Dodd's description is more believable than yours. You said the mountain is called Mauna Puka? That's not on my maps."

"It means Danger Mountain."

Rand rolled his eyes. “Don't share that with my men. Dodd has them spooked now."

"Does it bother you?"

"Let's say that if it weren't for your mission and our treasure, I wouldn't trespass on such a powerful tapu."

"My father didn't give it a thought,” Claire said. Her tone indicated that she wished it had been otherwise. “How far away are we now?"

"A league perhaps. One of the smaller atolls is not half so far off our port side.” Rand raised his scope and peered through it. He could make out the verdant slopes of Mauna Puka now. When the sun beat back the mist, the island would be an emerald of flawless character.

"Is everyone topside?” she asked.

"Almost.” He collapsed the scope and looked around. “Dr. Stuart's just joined us on deck. I would say that makes everybody.” Rand glanced down at Claire's profile. She was trying to put on a calm face, but the entire length of her slender frame leaned into the rail. Warm breezes pushed her hair back and pressed the bodice of her gown flush to her breasts. Rand let his arm fall from her shoulders and hoped he didn't regret it. “I'm not going in after you,” he told her dryly.

Claire accepted his gentle warning and straightened. Her grip on the rail remained unchanged.

"Are you worried, Claire?"

"Excited and frightened, too."

Rand said nothing. For now she only needed him to remain at her side, but he stood poised to offer his shoulder if it came to that.

Except for waves breaking against the hull and the southeast trade winds straining the canvas,
Cerberus
was silent. Every man had his eyes trained on the island, looking for some sign that life still existed there, each with the idea of being the first to bring the news to Claire. As Pulotu loomed larger in their sights, their search was fraught first with heady anticipation and then with concern. It was Claire who interpreted the shift in the silence and understood when concern became dread.

Cerberus
had not slowed, but it was as if nothing else moved. The quiet aboard the ship was so unnatural that Claire could imagine for a moment that she was alone. Her grip on the rail was no comfort to her now, and panic was instantaneous. It closed her throat and made her stomach lurch. Her heart pounded so loudly that she was deaf to the sound of the sea below her and Rand's voice at her ear. She groped for him as her knees started to fold.

Rand caught Claire before she dropped to the deck. He turned her around, hauling her against his chest to support her. Cutch was at his side quickly, the doctor a step behind.

"Has she fainted?” Macauley asked.

Rand shook his head. “She's frightened. Cutch, take over. Bring
Cerberus
around and drop anchor. We'll take two boats in, six men each, to explore.” He lifted Claire into his arms and started to carry her toward the companionway hatch.

"No."

Rand didn't hear her. It was the sudden rigidity of her posture that communicated a problem to him. He stopped in his tracks.

"Put me down,” she whispered hoarsely. Claire found the lapels of Rand's jacket and tugged on them. “Down."

He lowered her slowly. When he was certain she was steady on her own feet, he let his hands fall to his sides. Rand watched her struggle for composure. She had to be aware that he was not the only one studying her now. Though Cutch had the crew firmly in his command and was setting them to work, there wasn't a man who didn't need to assure himself that Claire was all right. One after another, they stole glances in her direction.

"I want to be here,” Claire said. Her features were set in a stoic mask, but her voice trembled slightly. “I can do this. Don't make me go below."

"Are you sure?” asked Rand.

Macauley Stuart cleared his throat. “I don't think she should be allowed to make that decision, Captain."

Rand looked sideways at Macauley. The doctor was in earnest. “You're going to make it for her?"

"She's ill. You can see for yourself that she has no color. Her faculties are impaired. Don't let her dictate—"

Claire realized that if she was shaking now, it was with anger. “I'm not so impaired that I can't find your shin with my foot,” she told him tightly.

Rand grinned as Dr. Stuart took a step backward. “I'd be inclined to believe her, too.” He took Claire's arm. “You can stay here—on deck—while the boats go ashore. I'm not taking you on the island until I have a look myself."

She nodded. “Is the camp deserted?” she asked. “Is that why everyone became so quiet?"

"There is no camp,” Rand told her. “No evidence of one that any of us can see. If it weren't for the tikis and my own charts, I could believe we haven't found Pulotu."

Claire took a deep breath but her lungs did not seem to fill with air. If she fainted now, Macauley Stuart would always have his way. The thought of that was motivation enough to remain standing. “Please take me back to the rail,” she said quietly. “Don't leave me with Dr. Stuart when you go ashore."

Rand was aware the doctor heard Claire. The protest was already forming on his lips when Rand simply raised his hand and cut him off. “I'm going to leave you with Dodd,” he said. “Cutch will take out one boat. Stuart is going to accompany me in the other. There's no way of knowing what we'll find once we start inland. His services will be better put to use on Pulotu than here."

Claire squeezed Rand's arm, thanking him for trusting her. Under her, she felt the change in speed as the sails were taken up.
Cerberus'
s motion shifted as she slowed. There was no more spray at the rail and the breeze seemed to gentle. When Claire leaned forward now, Rand didn't caution her. “What do you see?” she asked.

"About forty yards of white sand before a barricade of trees. From here it looks impenetrable. The land slopes steeply. The tikis are visible on the outcroppings of rock. The lowest one is placed about fifteen feet above sea level. I make the highest one to be about one hundred fifty feet."

"She's supposed to be Faia. The most powerful of the goddesses."

"Is she related to the others? You said you thought of them as the seven sisters."

"Yes, but that had more to do with the nursery rhyme than any specific knowledge.” Claire gave a little start as the anchor was dropped. She had not heard Cutch give the order. “Do you think the camp might have been moved to another face of the mountain?"

Rand's voice was gentle. “Claire, it's been more than a year and a half since you left Solonesia. Your father and brother could be on any one of a score of islands. Pulotu was only a place to start. I would not give too much weight to the fact that there's no camp here now."

Her shoulders sagged a little. “I've always known that,” she said. “But knowing and hoping...” She didn't have to finish. Rand would understand. They stood silently at the rail until it was time to lower the boats. Standing on tiptoe, Claire offered her husband a chaste kiss on the cheek. He was the one who turned it into something passionate enough to elicit some whistles from the audience in the yardarms.

"Just when I think I'm alone with you,” Rand said softly, “twenty-six men remind me that I'm not."

Claire smiled. She managed to maintain that face until Paul Dodd assured her Rand was far enough away that it didn't matter anymore. When she was certain she could speak without a tremor in her voice, Claire said, “Open the scope, Mr. Dodd, and tell me what you see."

Cutch's boat reached shore a little before Rand's. The men jumped out in the surf, hoisted the boat to their shoulders, and carried it ashore. They were squeezing water out of their trousers by the time Rand's boat was deposited beside them.

Rand and Cutch stood apart from the others surveying the face of the island. The stone tikis stared out across the sea, their fiercely carved features unwelcoming. Rand's gaze went from one to the other, studying each as if it could provide a clue. “Do you think they were carved here on the island?” asked Rand.

Cutch shook his head. “I doubt it, but I'd have to look at the rock here first to be certain. Amazing, aren't they? How big do you think the largest one is?"

It was difficult to know from their angle of observation. “Bigger than you."

"I was thinking that. Eight feet?"

"Probably. A quarter to half a ton of rock. How do you suppose they were placed on those outcroppings?"

Cutch scratched his bald head, pretending to give the question real thought. Finally he said, “I have as much notion about that as I do about how those little clipper ships get inside a bottle."

Rand laughed. “Don't strain yourself."

Cutch stopped scratching. “What I was thinking was a bit more interesting."

"Oh?"

"Don't you find it fair to middlin’ strange that we can see all of them?"

It took Rand a moment to catch Cutch's meaning. Sitting on their rocky ledges like statues on a pedestal, the tikis were all clearly visible. Surrounding them, however, was the lush island foliage. Casuarina trees with their feather-like fronds and tall coconut palms hugged the lower incline of Mauna Puka. The undergrowth was thick with flowering vines. Left undisturbed, the tikis should have been covered with greenery. “You think they're kept clear by islanders?” asked Rand.

"Possibly."

"There's another explanation?"

"Tapu."

Rand did not ask Cutch if he were serious. “I'll understand if you don't want to look around."

Cutch shrugged his heavy shoulders. “I'm already here,” he said. “I figure the time to worry about tapu's long past."

"Then we'll split up. You and your men take the shore route. Go into the trees no more than a hundred yards. If you don't see any signs that Sir Griffin moved his camp, come out again. Go as far as the lagoon, then come back here. I'll take my group along the incline. We'll investigate the tikis."

The going was slow. Whether the direction was along the shore or up the slope, the undergrowth frustrated them all. Cutch's men had to hack their way into the interior at four different points to cover the ground effectively. Rand's crew had to cut and climb. He knew that on
Cerberus
even with the scope, the path of their journey would be largely unknown until they appeared beside one of the tikis. Each time he arrived at one of the clearings where a tiki stood, Rand flagged the ship to signal they were safe. He hoped Dodd did not mistake his communication as some sign of real progress. There was none of that to be had.

It was late afternoon before the two groups met up again. Hungry and thirsty, exhausted by their efforts, the men lay sprawled on the beach summoning the energy to return to the ship. None of them could report any signs of Sir Griffin's encampment.

"Could Claire be wrong?” Rand asked. “It's as if they were never here."

"I expected some signs, too. Except for where we've trampled and cut, it doesn't look as if anything's been disturbed."

"We should tour the entire island.” It was the only thing that made sense, but Rand wasn't hopeful. “If they moved the camp, why erase any signs of this one?"

"We need Claire here,” Cutch said. “She knows answers to questions we haven't asked yet."

Rand sat up and looked out at the ship. Claire was still at the rail. Her red and white striped poplin gown made her stand out like a barber pole. He smiled to himself. It was not a comparison he would mention. “You saw how anxious she was as we approached the island,” he said to Cutch. “And she didn't argue when I told her to stay behind. I don't know if she can bring herself to come out here, even if I agree that it's a good idea. Right now, I'm not so sure it is."

Cutch remained silent. This was his captain's decision. He wondered how being Claire's husband would affect the outcome.

"I don't want to hurt her,” said Rand.

"I know."

Rand continued to stare at Claire. Had she moved at all since this morning? What was she thinking now? Dodd would have described his observations. She had to know that they were all on the beach again. Their inactivity would tell its own story. “All right,” he said finally. “Take your boat back to the ship. Bring enough supplies for six of us, including Claire, to camp here. We'll stay twenty-four hours. That will give you time to circle the island with
Cerberus.
With the onset of night there may be fires or lanterns that will help us locate another camp."

"Who do you want with you?"

"The doctor stays here. I'll keep Adams, Whittier, and Brown from my crew. Everyone else can go back with you."

Cutch stood. He shook off sand from his shirt and trousers. Without a word he motioned to the men. Most of them had overheard the discussion and were ready to go without explanation.

Rand's decision to stay behind was intentional. He reasoned that Claire was more likely to come to him than she would have been willing to go
with
him. If she had asked him to remain on the ship with her, he wouldn't have been able to refuse. He put more stock in her courage than his own. He had from the beginning.

When the boats returned, Rand waded into the water to meet them. He carried Claire ashore, then led her to a shady alcove of coconut trees. “We'll have the camp set up in an hour."

Claire nodded. She didn't speak, afraid that she would reveal how close to tears she was. The last time she was here, she had not only helped establish the camp, but directed much of its setup. Her father had immediately gone off into the trees to look for unusual flora, Tipu on his heels. Tiare had remained on the ship, refusing to set foot on the island until days later.

"Don't wander off,” said Rand.

She forced a smile, wondering if it was as watery as it felt.

Someone handed a blanket to Rand. He snapped it open and laid it out. “Over here, Claire.” When she scooted onto the blanket, he knelt beside her and took her chin in his hand. “You're very brave to have come out here at all."

She didn't feel very brave. “Liar."

"I don't lie to you. A little while ago I was sitting on shore thinking your dress took its inspiration from a barber pole.” He watched her eyebrows arch predictably. “Do you see? I won't lie to you."

"You take a very odd tack to make your point. I liked this dress.” Barber pole, indeed.

Rand kissed her briefly, hard. She had something of no consequence to occupy her now. He moved away to help the others while he could.

Claire sat patiently waiting for the tents to be pitched. The doctor was in charge of building a cooking fire. She wasn't surprised when he walked into the undergrowth to look for wood. “It's a rain forest,” she told him. “You won't easily find fallen limbs or branches dry enough to burn here. You'll have more luck if you go along the shore and gather driftwood."

It wasn't long before she was directing the activity in other ways. She told Adams where he could find fresh water and explained to Whittier which fronds made the softest bedding. She pointed Brown toward the lagoon for netting them fish for dinner and described how to build a trap that would give them fish for breakfast as well.

Rand joined her again when the fire was being laid. “You were born to command, m'lady."

"I've always thought so."

He laughed. “Earlier I began to wonder again if we had the correct island, but you seem to know where everything is. You have your bearings about the location of the lagoon. This must be where the camp was."

"It is."

"Then why is there no evidence?"

"My father had no respect for the tapu of the island, but that doesn't mean he didn't respect its nature. When he made a camp, he did as little to disrupt the environment as possible. However, he wouldn't have swept the site clean. He had no reason to. The priests might have done that."

"The priests? Explain that."

"The tapu is supposed to be powerful. If it's to be believed, the priests can't have foreigners trespassing on Pulotu, especially if nothing unfortunate appears to have happened to them."

"So they would eliminate the evidence in order to make it seem no one violates the sanctity of their sacred island."

"Yes."

"Are they the ones who make certain the tikis stay visible? I saw there's no vegetation around any of the statues."

"No. That's tapu."

Rand's head swiveled in Claire's direction. He gave her an arch look that she could not appreciate. He had to say her name with a certain wry twist to prompt her faint smile.

"All right,” she conceded reluctantly. “But who's to say what is tapu? The secret of Pulotu's statues is that they're carved from rock with a high base content."

"Like limestone."

"Yes, but not limestone. It's peculiar to Solonesia—a metamorphic rock that was formed when the volcanoes in this part of the world were active. It's not the typical igneous rock found almost everywhere. This rock was quarried on Fala. The humidity of Pulotu keeps the statues moist. Their base chemicals leech into the soil and prevent the vines and grasses that cover everything from encroaching. The tikis always remain visible."

"Tapu,” Rand said softly.

Claire nodded. “The scientific explanation doesn't matter here. What Solonesians acknowledge is the power of the spirit rock to hold back the forest.” Claire raised her knees and smoothed her gown over them. She faced the ocean, staring out as if she could see the seamless melding of clear blue water and sky. “Mr. Dodd told me of your progress to each one of the tikis. Did you find anything to hint at the location of your treasure?"

"No. It wasn't the only reason I went, but no, there weren't any hints. The tikis themselves aren't marked in any unusual way. You probably realize that, though. You studied them while you were here."

"A little. Not as much as I would have liked. It made Tiare furious, especially when Tipu would come with me. I tried to respect her wishes, but I was curious, too. It was difficult for her because she was the daughter of a priest. If not for meeting my father, she would have become a priestess. Tiare kept the ancient traditions of the islands close to her heart. It was important to her that the Europeans didn't eliminate the culture."

"Yet she became your father's mistress. By your own admission, Sir Griffin did not honor the tapu or much else about Solonesian society."

Claire shrugged. “I asked her that myself, and she pretended not to understand the question. What I know is that my father loved her. Perhaps it was enough for her ... or perhaps she was only keeping the enemy close."

"It could have been both,” Rand said. He watched Claire's features take on a thoughtful, distant look as she considered this. “What's the last thing you remember happening on Pulotu?"

Claire ignored the commotion that was happening around the fire as Brown returned with his net full of fish. “Studying in my tent. It was late. I had my lantern burning. I don't know if you realize there were eight people in our group. You know about my father, Tiare, Tipu, and me."

"And Trenton,” said Rand. “Your father's assistant. He was with you then, wasn't he?"

"That's right. He would have liked to have been elsewhere, but Sir Griffin was treating his illness then and he needed to stay with us. The other three men had all been with my father for years. Mr. Davis was usually responsible for overseeing the laborers. Since the Solonesians were reluctant to step foot on Pulotu, the work fell on Mr. Davis and the others."

"Tiare came ashore."

"Yes, but not for days. Usually our group traveled from island to island in outrigger canoes. When the islanders who worked for my father realized he meant to explore Pulotu, they refused to help. Sir Griffin had to wait two months before he found a Yankee whaler willing to transport his entourage and equipment. Tiare boarded the ship, but when we arrived she wouldn't get off. The captain threatened to take her whaling with them if she didn't leave. My father had to go back out to the ship to convince her to come with him. It was the only time I remember him being impatient with her. He simply refused to accept that she was terrified of the island's curse."

Claire felt Rand's fingers lightly touch the nape of her neck. He moved her hair to one side and ran his hand along the length of her spine. His gentleness evoked a shiver of pleasure. “I remember there was some shouting,” she said, picking up the thread of her story. “I couldn't tell you who was involved or what the shouting was about. I've thought a lot about it, but I don't know if the voices were alarmed or angry. I know I left my tent, but again, I don't know if I was curious or if someone called me outside."

Rand waited, expecting more. “That's all?” he asked when Claire remained silent. “That's all you remember?"