The Devil's Paintbox (18 page)

“Have you actually seen it?” Aiden asked Carlos. “The smallpox?”

“Yes. Twice during the war.”

“Is it bad as they say?”

“No.” Carlos gazed into the fire and sipped the tea. “It's worse. Whatever anyone says, it's worse.” He leaned back on his elbows and stared at the fire. His dark eyes were glassy and blank. “I've seen death in a hundred disguises,” he said.
“Sometimes she dresses in lace and waltzes in on a summer night, sometimes she hides beneath a hood and scratches through the frost of winter. Sometimes she wears brass and braid, sometimes velvet slippers.” He tipped his head and looked up at the stars. Aiden had never heard Carlos talk this way.

“But this death is the worst,” he went on quietly. “This death is a devil child playing with a paintbox, just spattering all over. You reach out to grab its hand and make it stop, but you find this devil child is made of smoke.”

Tupic softly translated the doctor's words. He must have captured the harsh poetry as well, for Silent Wolf nodded.

“But here's the irony.” Carlos pulled his jacket tighter, as if he were suddenly embarrassed. “Smallpox probably saved my life.” He shifted back to his usual, more distant manner. “Without it, I would probably be just another beggar in the gutters of Madrid right now.”

“What do you mean?” Aiden asked.

“These days we grow the vaccine in cows,” Carlos explained. “But long ago the only way to vaccinate was from person to person. The king of Spain wanted to bring the vaccine to the colonies in the New World. So he collected some orphan boys and put them on a ship where doctors kept the vaccine alive across the ocean by passing it from boy to boy.”

“They gave smallpox to the boys?” Tupic asked, clearly horrified.

“It was cowpox—a milder disease, but yes,” Carlos explained. “When one boy got sick, they scratched the sores on his arm with a quill, then took the same quill and scratched the arm of the next boy. This was 1803, only a few years after Edward Jenner discovered vaccination. It was a crude
method, but it worked. The vaccination was brought to the Caribbean and South America. None of the boys died. In reward for their service, they were brought back to Spain and given educations.”

He pushed a stick farther into the fire and an explosion of sparks lit up his troubled face.

“My grandfather was one of those orphan boys.” He curled his long fingers around the warm mug, as if the thought of the ocean voyage had given him a chill.

“With his education, he studied and became a doctor, as did my father after him. Without that education—well, an orphan had little chance in the world.”

Tupic translated the story to his uncle and cousin, hesitating over parts. There were no Nimipu words for
ocean voyage, colonies
or
vaccination;
but more difficult for all of the Indians was understanding the idea of an orphan. Tupic translated it as a child with no one to take care of it, but Clever Crow frowned in puzzlement. They discussed it for some time.

“We still don't understand,” Tupic said finally. “How can a child have no one to care for it? If the parents are dead, it is the duty of the grandparents, aunts and uncles.”

“Sometimes there aren't any.”

“If all the family is dead, it is the duty of the tribe. Even the enemy child taken as slave after battle is protected. Why should anyone be an orphan?”

Aiden stared at the fire. What possible answer was there to that? He looked at Carlos, but if the doctor had any answers, they were not on offer that night. All five fell silent. The night grew cool against their backs as the generous fire sent sparks into the vast, indifferent sky.

iden saw the sparks in his dreams, a whirling tornado of red flickers that spun through the camp singeing everyone it touched. He saw Maddy lying on the ground, screaming with pain as angry red blisters covered her skin. Aiden woke in a panic, his heart pounding. It was just a dream, he told himself. But then he sensed that something really was wrong. He leaned up on one elbow and stared into the darkness. Carlos had awakened too. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Aiden saw Silent Wolf roll out of his buffalo skin and throw it over the fire.

“Man and horse,” the Indian whispered. He grabbed the knife from his belt and crouched low. Clever Crow was also alert. He put his hand over Tupic's mouth and gently shook him awake. The moon was waning but was still bright enough to show the shape of a man leading a horse, walking toward them from the bluff. As the man got closer, Aiden saw he was carrying a saddle and bridle, leading the horse with a halter rope. The man hadn't seen them.

“It's Sergeant Todd!” Aiden whispered to Carlos. Even in the starlight he recognized the man's knobbed shoulders and wiry frame. Todd stopped about thirty feet away, glanced back toward the camp, then slipped the bridle over the horse's head. The horse gave a nervous sidestep. Todd threw the saddle on, reached under the horse's belly, grabbed the girth strap and began to fumble it into place.

“That's one of the German brothers’ horses!” Aiden whispered. He recognized the distinctive white sock on the horse's left forefoot. “He's stolen it—he's escaping!”

“Shhh!” Carlos pulled him down. “He's also armed.”

Aiden saw the bulge of a pistol on Todd's hip and the long barrel of a rifle slung across his back.

“We can't let him go!”

Carlos squeezed Aiden's arm. “Wait! Can you throw a rock that far? Hit the horse?” Aiden nodded. He wriggled over to the fire, where they had made a ring of stones, and reached his hand under the buffalo skin. The rocks were still hot and his fingers jerked reflexively as he touched them, feeling for one small enough to throw.

Todd got the girth strap through the buckle. Half a minute more and the man would be riding away. Aiden and Carlos watched and waited until Todd started to tighten the strap; then Carlos tapped Aiden's back. Aiden jumped to his feet and pitched the rock at the horse, smacking it square in the middle of the rump, then dropped back down in the grass. The horse reared and whinnied. Up in the camp, a dog began to bark, then another and another. That was all the alarm they needed. Soon shouts rang out and a bugle sounded from the army camp. Aiden saw Sergeant Todd frantically trying to mount as the frightened horse wheeled away from him. He got one foot in the stirrup, swung into the saddle and kicked the horse. Now he was galloping straight toward the five hiding men. Carlos flung himself on top of Aiden, smashing his nose into the rough grass. Aiden felt the hoofbeats in his chest, but when the horse was just a few feet away, it balked and reared. The saddle slipped and Todd fell to the ground. He was on his feet in seconds, his gun drawn.

“Goddammit!” he gasped. “God damn! Who's there? Stand up, all of you, where I can see!” He waved the pistol back and forth, unsure which of the shapes to aim at. Shouts rang out from the bluff and lanterns began to flicker.

“I'm about to start shooting!” Todd's voice was pitched high with nerves.

“All right,” Carlos said calmly. “Don't shoot. We're getting up.” Slowly they all got to their feet.

“Go back to your unit,” Carlos said. “Leave the horse, we won't identify you.”

“Like hell!”

“We'll say the horse just ran off.”

“With a saddle and bridle on?”

“We'll hide the saddle,” Aiden suggested.

“Just go back,” Carlos urged.

“And die of smallpox? I don't think so!”

“If you have it and run away, you'll die anyway.”

“But I'll be drunk and whoring when I do,” Todd spat. “You're the doc, ain't you?” He glanced nervously back at the bluff. The soldiers couldn't see them yet, but they certainly knew the general direction the noise had come from, and the fire was still smoldering beneath the leather, sending out a drift of smoke that anyone could smell. The soldiers’ camp was only a hundred yards away; it wouldn't take them but a minute or two to find Todd.

“Get your ass over here, Doc.” Todd waved the pistol at him. “And don't you try nothing, smart boy! I got plenty bullets for all of you! And I don't mind shooting Injuns especially. You fix that saddle!” Todd pointed the gun at Carlos. “Know how to do that, Mr. Doctor?”

“Yes.” Carlos walked toward the horse. It was a well-trained
animal and, despite its fright, stood quietly as Carlos took the reins. He patted its neck and made soothing sounds to calm it.

“Hurry up!”

Carlos slid the saddle back into place and lifted the flap to tighten the girth. Aiden saw a dozen soldiers trotting toward them, a line of shadows in the moonlight.

“Now get on!” Todd ordered. “I'll ride behind you. No tricks—I will shoot you dead.”

“There!” A cry rang out. The soldiers had seen them. The line quickly converged and galloped toward them.

“God damn!” Todd knew there wasn't time to escape now. He grabbed Carlos's arm, pulled him back from the horse, twisted his arm up behind him and stuck the pistol against the side of his head, using him as a shield.

“Stop there!” Todd shouted at the soldiers. “Stop now or I swear I'll kill the doctor!”

“Whoa!” Lieutenant Gryffud held up his hand and the soldiers halted.

“I got the doc here!” Todd said. “I got a gun right to his brain, can you see that?”

“I can see,” Gryffud said.

Jackson, the German brothers and several other men were approaching on foot with lanterns, throwing ghostly shadows over the ground.

“Surrender now, Sergeant,” Gryffud said. “And I promise you won't be hanged.”

Todd laughed. “Oh yes, I do prefer the firing squad!” He jabbed the gun hard against Carlos's head.

“I give you my word—you won't be executed.”

“So what? So I can go back and catch the pox? Or just rot in jail my whole life? That don't sound so good either!”

Aiden felt Tupic nudge him and turned. Silent Wolf caught his eye, looked down at his bow, then nodded at Aiden.

“I'm riding out now!” Todd shouted. “And Doc here is coming with me.”

“I can't let you do that, Sergeant,” Gryffud said. One of the soldiers slowly began to ease out to one side, trying to flank the man.

“You halt, goddammit!” Todd drove his knee into the back of Carlos's, knocking him to the ground. Aiden heard the cold metal click of the hammer being cocked.

“You tell them put those guns down!”

“I can't do that,” Gryffud said.

“You know I'll kill this man! And shoot two or three more of you before you kill me—you do know that!”

Gryffud hesitated. The soldiers evidently knew it was true, for most lowered their guns even without the lieutenant's order. Aiden looked down at his bow. Silent Wolf was a better shot, but no Indian would dare shoot a soldier, even a deserter with a hostage. If anyone was going to shoot Todd, it would have to be Aiden.

“Let the doctor go and I'll let you go,” Gryffud offered. “Go on and ride out.”

“You think I'm an idiot?”

“Then take me instead. These people have nothing to do with us,” Gryffud said. His booming voice was shaky, but he seemed to have found some sense of command since his dithering that afternoon, Aiden thought. Todd rocked back and forth a little, considering.

“No, no, no, I don't think so.” He jabbed the gun harder into Carlos's head and pulled on his twisted arm. Carlos
grunted. “Get up!” Todd took a step backward, pulling Carlos with him. Aiden slowly squatted down, keeping his eyes fixed on Todd. Could he do it? Could he actually kill a man? For his shot would have to kill. A wounded Todd would certainly empty his pistol in rage.

Carlos had talked about death in different guises, but to Aiden, death had always been invisible. His father was plowing, and then lay dead in the furrow. His mother blinked, then did not. Ada had breath, then none. But this death would have weight and time. He looked up at the stars, but there were no celestial answers beaming down for him. Someone was going to die, Carlos or Todd, and his not choosing would still be a choice.

So.

Aiden pushed away the questions and brought his mind around to the work of it. An arrow to the chest would have to slip between the ribs to pierce the lung. There was a fifty-fifty chance of hitting a rib and bouncing off. A strike in the flank would be easy but might not even knock the man down right away. The only certain killing shot was to the neck. Aiden had hit plenty of bull's-eyes from greater distances. He had also missed. And he had never tried it when a miss could have such dire consequences. If the arrow went two inches one way it would miss entirely. Two inches the other way and it would hit Carlos. Part of his brain was oddly surprised to find the other part doing these cold calculations. But if Todd got on the horse with Carlos as hostage, Aiden knew Carlos would be dead. And Maddy was in love with him.