column of ants. He leaped to his feet in disgust.
They'd eaten a kind of spicy chicken that the previous owners of the house had thought they would be having that night It sat uneasily on Kydd's stomach. Reluctantly he pushed his way closer to the fire and settled down again on the stony ground.
It seemed like minutes later when boatswain's mates and corporals roared about to rouse the huddled men. Kydd ached in the pre-dawn darkness after his uncomfortable doze. A thin overcast hid the half-moon and the night was full of dull shadows.
Kydd knew the plan in a general way. They would push forward before dawn towards a much bigger fort, Fleur d'Epee, and fall upon it at first light It was hoped that the defenders would not expect such a rapid resuming of the advance.
'Pay attention, you section leaders.' Calley was indistinct in the poor light but his words came strongly. Kydd stood in the semicircle of a dozen men, listening carefully.
'We advance on the fort shortly. There are two roads. Sections one and three will take the easterly, the other sections the westerly. The roads go each side of the fort. Now, mark this, the fort is on a slight hill, and reconnaissance tells us that the brush has been cleared around to give a good field of fire. Therefore — and I cannot emphasise this too strongly - we will be bloodily repulsed if they are waiting for us. The advance must take place in complete silence. Total silence! Do I make myself clear?'
All traces of weariness and aching fell away as Kydd took in the words.
‘For that reason, the first numbered sections will be armed with cold steel only - this will ensure that there are no accidental discharges of musketry. And, do you bear in mind always, you are not to leave cover and advance over the open ground until the trumpet sounds. Then move very quickly, if you please,' Calley added drily.
Kydd took his cutlass, the blackened steel and grey oily blade sinister in the last of the firelight. He remembered the first time he had used one with deadly force. Then it had saved his life, but at the cost of the enduring memory of a young man's face sagging under the recognition of his coming death.
He fitted the scabbard to its frog, and slid it on to his wide seaman's belt. Experimentally, he drew the heavy weapon's greased length - it fell to hand easily, and Kydd noted that the blade had been ground to a good point: it could be relied on to sink through clothing and leather to the heart.
'Form up!' he growled at his section. Renzi was present, although Kydd was none the wiser about his action in joining his party. He had been too tired the previous evening to do more than grunt at Renzi's solicitudes; there had been no comfortable conversation.
They moved off. In the lead were other sections. They paced on rapidly, Kydd grateful for the easy going afforded by a road instead of clinging undergrowth. The road forked. Kydd's section took the lead to the right. The road sank lower and its sides reared as they passed into a defile cut into a rise in the coral rock, until even the least military of them realised that, trapped as they were by the vertical sides of the road, they were easy meat for any ambush.
Kydd paced on, his ears pricking, his eyes staring-wide. His men followed behind in file. It was no use trying to listen for strange sounds - the tropical night was alive with unknown stridulations, barks, squeaks and grunts. The road emerged from the defile, and began to trend upward. They must be approaching the prominence with the fort astride it, he reasoned. Sure enough, a curve in the road led out of the wooded fringing area and somewhere shortly ahead must lie the open ground — and Fort d'Epee.
'Dead silence!' whispered Kydd, 'Or - or ...' It seemed thin and pathetic against the reality of their situation, but the men nodded, and plunged after him off the road and into the woods. It wasn't long before they came to the edge: the crudely felled and levelled area ahead gave no cover, open ground all the way up to the drab cluster of low buildings inside stout palisades. It was still too overcast and murky to make out much.
'Back — we wait f'r the call,' Kydd whispered. It were best they were not at the very edge of the clearing in case a pale face in the night was seen from the fort. They moved inward a few yards and settled to wait.
'I c'n hear ...' began Larcomb. There was a rustle.
Renzi moved up and looked around questioningly. 'There!' he hissed.
It was a footfall. Kydd held up his hand for silence. His heart thudded. Another footfall, a rustling of foliage. Someone was entering the woods, and heading towards them.
