Child of the Dawn (33 page)

It was Purea's hope that she could restore Tapani Vari to good health. With an imperious gesture she summoned four young women, attendants skilled in the art of massage. All had been chosen for attractiveness as well as their ability to heal through the suppleness of their fingers. Heads turned as the four paraded in, dressed in fine
tapa
with garlands about their necks and flower-crowns on their shining black hair. Purea directed two of the young women to Tapani Van's mat.
 

Eyes wide, they took their places on each side of the visitor. Bowls of scented oil lay beside them. The women knew what they must do, but neither ventured to touch him.
 

Purea opened her mouth to scold, then realized that it would do no good. They were frightened of the strange-looking man, and not just because of his appearance. Her priest had offered them protection—chants and feather amulets—against any evil that might come from touching the foreigner. Yet they still were reluctant. It was up to Purea to smooth over the threat of an insult to her guest.
 

When she knelt beside Tapani Vari, Purea felt her own reluctance to begin. The outlandish garments, with their tight coverings, strange flaps, pouches, and slits, baffled and dismayed her. Though her visitor's blue eyes were gentle, the pallid coloring of his skin and sharpness of his features screamed at her to draw back. She prayed to her ancestress for the strength and vision to see the visitor as he was and not be turned away by his outward appearance.
 

She found enough resolve to keep her hands from trembling as she reached toward him. Gently she pulled at the heavy blue cloth that covered his arms and chest. He did something with the flaps and disks that made the front of the garment open up. Then he drew out his arms and put the garment aside.
 

Following her example, the two female attendants began tugging at the unfamiliar covers that encased Tapani Vari's feet. Purea noticed that these casings were very thick on the underside. Why, she wondered, did the visitors need such protection? Had they no soles on their feet?
 

Her question remained unanswered even when the casings pulled free. Each foot and calf was still covered in a tight sleeve of fine white material, closed over the toes and extending upward toward the knee. At Purea's request, Tapani Van seized these inner garments from the top and peeled each one off like a second skin.
 

Purea drew in a sharp breath as she gazed at her guest's feet, pale, bony, narrow, and blue-veined. The toes, instead of spreading, were all crushed together. How could a person stand such discomfort? She summoned her courage once more, dipped her hand into a bowl of oil, began the massage.
 

Seeing Purea at work, the two young women overcame their own fears. They knelt to the mat and began rubbing the visitor's forearms, which were covered with coarse hair and dotted with odd little brown spots. He lay back, gazing at them with a dreamy pleasure in his eyes and an odd smile on his lips.
 

But Tapani Vari was possibly the only one relaxing now. Purea heard frenzied whispers of servants behind her. "My women will take care of you," she assured her visitor. "I will be back soon." Trying to keep her worries from her guest, she rose without haste.
 

She went to Tupaia, who was standing with Hau and a group of her own men. "My lady..." The urgency in the priest's voice startled her. Outside the longhouse, the meeting ground lay inexplicably empty. When had the crowd of onlookers vanished? She noticed Tapani Van's guards watching for signs of movement in the distant bushes.
 

"What is this?" she demanded of the priest. "Has Tutaha betrayed me?"

"I do not know," he said unhappily. "But men with slings and stones are crouching just out of sight."

"The foreigners must not see them!"

"The warriors may attack," Tupaia said. "I advise you to send your guests back to the safety of their vessel."

"And let them learn that I have no control over these people? The visitors believe I rule all of Tahiti!"

The priest stared at her in astonishment and dismay. Hau spoke first. "Must you continue this pretense, Purea?" he asked bluntly. 'Tell the foreigners the truth."
 

"That they have ventured among quarreling chiefs? No. If they discover that, they will forget about making peace and think only of conquering us. It is far better to let them believe that I command the entire island."
 

"Then we must do something about these hidden warriors," Tupaia said.

"You, Hau," she replied quickly. "Can you learn if Tutaha has sent these sling-men?"

"I will try." She saw the conflict of loyalties in the old man's expression as he turned away and headed across the clearing. He owed allegiance to Tutaha, yet he seemed to understand the larger stakes.
 

"I have no wish for a battle with Tutaha over this," she said to the priest. "He is a great chief, and I respect the way he rules. But on the matter of the visitors he is blind."
 

To assure her guests that all remained well, Purea called for refreshments to be set out on the ground adjacent to the house. Servants scurried to lay down banana leaves and coconut cups in a great ring. Others went to fetch baskets of fruit.
 

While these preparations were under way, a messenger arrived. Tupaia spoke with him briefly. "Chief Tutaha wishes to speak with you," the priest told Purea gravely. "He is waiting at a house nearby."
 

"At this moment?" A warning prickle lifted hairs on the back of her neck, making her shiver. At the same time, she felt the corners of her mouth draw back in a scornful grimace. Did Tutaha believe that she was a fool or a coward? Did he think she would abandon her guests to his ambush? "If the esteemed chief wishes to see me, he can come here," she answered firmly.
 

The messenger argued with Tupaia, but to no avail. At last the envoy's face hardened. He turned on his heel and strode off.

Chief of Pare-Arue, you will not drive me as the stone fishermen drive their prey by striking the water.

Hau arrived next and his expression was grim. "If an attack comes, you can be sure that Tutaha is behind it."

"And what will that gain him? Hau, you have watched these visitors closely. Do you think that the loss of their commander will frighten them away from Tahiti?"
 

The old man's face paled. "I don't believe we have seen the full power of their weapons. These strangers will not run. They will destroy us first and then take our land."
 

"Do you support your chief in this folly?"

Hau looked away. "He is at the
marae
, waiting for a sign from the priests. The gods will tell him what to do."
 

"I have already heard from
my
gods," Purea answered. She glanced out from the shade of the longhouse into the foliage beyond the clearing and felt cold streaks down her arms. She had seen the remains of men who had been killed by sling stones—chests smashed, foreheads cratered. This was no fate she could wish on her guests.
 

'Tell me this, Hau," she continued. "If I send my own warriors out, will Tutaha's men attack them?"

"My lady, perhaps you should ask him."

Purea followed Hau's gaze. A small party was approaching on the path from shore. Flanked by his advisors and orators, the formidable Tutaha came closer. Then he stopped, keeping his distance from the foreign guests. Purea let him wait, turning first to escort Tapani Van to his dining place. Her guest now seemed happy and relaxed. With signs she told him that she would shortly return.
 

Summoning her strength, Purea advanced with a slow and regal tread to where Tutaha awaited her. "I regret that you have chosen to deceive me," she said coldly.
 

Tutaha's expression darkened. "And I regret that we disagree so strongly on what must be done."

"You will not harm my guests."

"Finish your entertainment," he offered.

"And afterward? Do you plan to attack them on the shore?"

"Once the strangers depart from this house, they will not be your concern."

Purea turned and gestured toward the distant trees. "Withdraw your men. That is the only answer I can accept from you."

"I will," he replied. "For now. But you must agree to something in return. You will stay behind when the foreigners depart. You will not leave this place."
 

Purea felt his sharp gaze. "I agree to nothing. Remember this, mighty chief. I am
your
guest." She watched the expressions of the men around Tutaha, several of whom were her kin by marriage. She wondered if they would permit any harm to come to her.
 

"You are, indeed, my guest, noble lady," Tutaha conceded. "And you are a sensible woman. At the proper moment, I know you will take care for your own safety...and remain behind." With these words he turned away and departed.
 

Purea was trembling with rage. She tried to calm herself as she went back to join the foreigners. To her relief she saw that her guests remained at ease.
 

 

When the feasting and entertainment were done, Tapani Vari stood up to address Purea. "We are saddened that we must take our leave," he said through Hau. "Your hospitality has refreshed us and renewed our spirits."
 

"I, too, am sad," Purea replied. "You must come see me again. Soon you will be fully well again." The words seemed to die on her lips, however. She did not even know if these men would survive until evening.
 

Laden with rolls of
tapa
, fruit, hogs, fowls, and other gifts, the foreigners prepared to return to their landing place. Tutaha's warning echoed in Purea's ear. She imagined the sling-men posted somewhere down the path...and the destruction that would follow.
 

Tapani Vari signed that he felt well enough to walk now. His guardsmen, in their red garments and tall headgear, strode on ahead. They had become lax in their vigilance, Purea thought. Now they had eyes only for the young lovelies of Purea's court who accompanied them. Must these girls, too, fall victim to Tutaha's attack?
 

Purea suddenly strode forward. "I will come with you," she announced to her guest, trying to put gaiety into her voice. Tupaia called her back, but she refused to listen. She caught up with Tapani Vari, strode beside him, keeping as close as possible.
 

As they went, she spoke merrily to her guest, aware that not a drop of perspiration could make its way down her face, nor a doubt show in her eyes. Ahead, breadfruit trees grew close on each side of the path. She had never thought of these trees with anything but appreciation for the crop they gave. Now they only provided hiding places for Tutaha's warriors.
 

Her voice grew louder.
Let Tutaha know I am defying him.
She glanced behind and was gratified to see that Tupaia had joined the party, marching with the lesser masters of the vessel.
 

Tapani Vari laughed, his eyes twinkling and a pleasant ruddiness showing in his cheeks. His mood had improved greatly by this visit ashore, yet he remained infirm. She offered him her arm. She helped him cross streams, astonishing him with her strength when she lifted him over a narrow creek. "You must regain your lost weight," she said jokingly. "A woman should not be able to lift a man."
 

And all along the way she kept alert for any signs of movement, for leaves shaking, for the whispers of hidden warriors. Were they behind her now, creeping up, readying their slings? Or were they just ahead, where the path turned? The walk went on and on, as long a walk as she had ever taken. She prayed to her guardian spirit that Tutaha would not be so foolish as to kill Te Vahine Airoreatua i Ahurai i Farepua....
 

 

 

 

EIGHTEEN

 

The vision faded. Groggily, Tepua opened her eyes to see the gloom of the cave and Stay-long bending over her. "What—"

"You have been with the spirits," the
tahutahu
said quietly.
 

"But..." Vivid memories flooded over her. "They gave me no answer about the child," she wailed.

"Perhaps it is there, and you do not grasp it."

Tepua's thoughts were a jumble. What had she gained by coming here at all? she asked herself bitterly. She had visited Purea twice before simply by falling asleep on her mat.
 

Yet she had felt something extraordinary when she gazed at the skulls. Perhaps Matopahu's ancestors
did
have a special interest in Purea and the days to come. If Matopahu managed to produce an heir, then Purea might be one of his descendants!
 

"We must leave," Stay-long said, helping Tepua up. "This is no place to remain after dark."

"Yes, we must go." But Tepua's head was still filled with questions. The gods had frustrated her again, holding back what she needed to know.
 

She watched uneasily as the
tahutahu
tugged at one end of the doubled rope, letting the other end up to slide free of its pivot high atop the cliff. When Stay-long had retrieved the whole length, she found an eyehole near the mouth of the cave, threaded the rope through, and dropped the ends into the gorge. "We will go all the way down," the headman's wife explained. "Tomorrow we will have a long walk back to the settlement. But after this, no more dangling from ropes!"
 

The promise encouraged Tepua as she started the tedious journey down. Knowing that there would be solid ground below, and a stream for drinking and bathing, also helped. Her lips and throat felt parched. She had been without liquid for half a day.
 

Step-by-step she descended. All the while her thoughts churned. The idea that Purea might be of Matopahu's line opened a wealth of possibilities.
Purea, who are you? Do I carry your seed or, perhaps, that of your mother? If I destroy this child, will I protect Tahiti or assure the end of our people
?