Sister of the Sun (17 page)

"There are plenty of both," answered Heka, undeterred. "And for that, I am always praising the ancestors."

"I will settle this in my own way," said Tepua. "I'm sorry to disappoint your brother, but my home is now in Tahiti. In the end, I will return, and I do not intend to leave a child behind. Umia will rule next—when he is ready. The priests decided that long ago."
 

Heka sighed and released her grip. "Tepua-ariki, that is just how I thought you would answer."

Tepua squeezed Heka's hand. "I will not be leaving soon. Faka-ora refuses to let me go. At least you and I will have more time together." Both women turned around to retrace their steps toward shore.
 

Now Tepua saw that the servants' baskets swung heavily from their hands. The walk had yielded a good harvest and it was not over. A short distance ahead, a man was still at work. He had poked a stick into a deep hole; now a spotted tentacle was wrapped around the stick. The man knelt, lunging his hand down until his entire arm was underwater. Then, with a cry, he brought up a squirming, white mass.
 

"Octopus...good!" Heka called with delight. "We will bake that one with taro leaves. A delicacy for the high chief."

Tepua agreed, licking her lips. But even anticipating this treat could not keep her thoughts from Kiore.

 

The day after her visit with Heka, Tepua arrived at the nearby
motu
where Varoa Clan held sway. Cone-shell put on the show of welcome she had expected—women dancing on the beach, warriors strutting. But he did not speak the words of acknowledgment she wished to hear:
maeva ariki
.
 

Looking elegant in his tall headdress of feathers and his necklaces of dolphin teeth, Cone-shell escorted her toward his assembly ground above the beach. Along the way, Tepua saw a horde of servants preparing a feast. Her gaze passed over the brightly colored fish and heaps of vegetables, then paused at a pile of knobby roots attached to jointed stems—dried roots of
ava
, known here as
kava
. Cone-shell must have had recent dealings with other islands, she thought. The intoxicating
kava
plants grew poorly in atoll soil; he could not have obtained them locally.
 

Custom required Cone-shell to provide a feast. In serving her
kava
, however, he would bestow on her a special honor. She wondered if he was trying to make amends for his coarse behavior when the foreign goods were examined.
 

She put the question aside as she walked with him to his sitting place in the shade of a huge
fara
tree. "I am pleased by your welcome," Tepua said, recalling the crowded beach at her arrival. "But someone is missing. I hoped to see Umia here."
 

A faint frown showed on Cone-shell's face. "Umia is with me, but I speak for him. I see no need for my nephew to join us."

"What would people think," she countered, "if they knew that I came here and ignored my young brother? After my long absence, we have only spoken a few words in passing."
 

When she persisted, reminding Cone-shell that Kohekapu was eager to hear from his son, Varoa's chief relented. Umia arrived, but looked ill at ease, glancing at his uncle before stepping forward to greet Tepua. He quickly pressed his nose to her cheek, giving the briefest of embraces.
 

Tepua invited Umia to walk with her alone. She glared at Cone-shell, whose mouth was already open to deny her request. "I will walk with my brother," she said firmly. Grudgingly, Cone-shell gestured his assent.
 

Umia followed her to a deserted stretch of shoreline. Here strands of beach morning glory, blearing flowers of pale violet, crept over the sand and halfway down to the water. Tepua turned to her brother.
 

Today, for the first time, she noticed Kohekapu's features in his face—the high-boned cheeks, the flared nostrils, the large, dark eyes and bushy brows. He was certainly no longer a boy. His arms and legs bore the tattoo marks of a young warrior. His long, black hair was bound back by a warrior's knot
 

"Why is that you were gone so long, sister?" asked Umia in a clear voice when he finally raised his eyes to hers. "When you came back, I barely remembered you."
 

"For me, it was not that long. But while I was away you changed from a child into a man."

"Then why am I not chief? Why did Faka-ora push me aside?"

"That is what I want to talk to you about." Tepua sighed. "Do you understand that I came home only because of our father's illness? I did not want the chiefhood. It was forced on me."
 

"I have heard otherwise." He eyed her warily.

"From your mother and Cone-shell?"

"They say you tricked the high priest...with Tahitian sorcery."

"Tricked?" Tepua caught herself before she could fling back the accusation. Natunatu, of all people, blaming someone for using sorcery! "What of the chief's and elders? Did they also succumb to my spells?"
 

Umia gave a faint smile. "Perhaps."

"Then you are not certain."

"Of that, no," he replied. "But everyone agrees—even you—that signs appeared at my birth, and the gods showed that I must be chief."
 

"The signs did not tell
when
."
 

He hesitated.

"There is your answer, Umia. You will rule after me. And soon, I hope."

"Cone-shell talks of a different outcome. He says you will stay here and lead us into disaster. He says you will adopt foreign ways and scorn the teachings of our ancestors."
 

Tepua stamped her foot. "Your uncle is full of bad wind!"

Her brother sighed. "I have listened to him all my life."

"That is too long. Tell me your own thoughts. If you were in my place, what would you do with the foreign sailors?"

"I think...I would be careful."

"You would not send them out to drown?"

"They have skills and goods that may help us. I would like to have those, so long as we do not offend the spirits."

"Good. Then you and I agree on something."

"Perhaps not, Tepua. I am told that these men show no reverence for the gods, unless they are constantly reminded. They set a poor example."
 

"Paruru is teaching them. Soon they will learn all our ways."

"If they do not?"

Tepua felt a chill on her shoulders as she studied Umia's troubled face. "Then I will send them away," she answered hoarsely. "Does that satisfy you?"
 

"I will be happy when they are gone."

"But you have not even seen these men! You spurned my invitation to their welcome, so let me make another. Leave your uncle. Come live with the clan of your father."
 

Umia looked at her in astonishment. "How can you ask that? My home is here."

"Someday, my brother, you will have to stand up to Cone-shell. You will have to show him that you can make your own way. Until then, you cannot be high chief."
 

For a moment she saw a new expression in Umia's face, a hint that she had gotten through to him. Then his features hardened again. "We must go," he said brusquely. "My uncle is waiting."
 

 

When she returned to the others, she saw that Cone-shell had assembled nearly all the important men of his clan. Umia was not included in the gathering, nor did Cone-shell explain the omission. Tepua also noticed that a heap of
kava
roots had been placed nearby on a mat of palm leaves. A large wooden bowl lay on the mat, along with polished coconut-shell cups. Was Umia considered too young to drink
kava
? she wondered.
 

And why was Cone-shell making this unusual offer of hospitality? She recalled tales of legendary heroes who were tricked into imbibing too much
kava
. But the stories exaggerated the effect of the drink. When she had tried it in Tahiti, she had felt mildly invigorated, then drowsy, but had not fallen into a stupor.
 

She glanced about until she found Two-eels, the leader of the escort that Paruru had sent with her. Two-eels could be trusted to look after her safety, she thought, but found herself wishing he had brought along more warriors.
 

Cone-shell offered her the squat, four-legged stool beside his own. It was the same height as his, not the proper seat to be offered the high chief. "I will stand," Tepua told him, unwilling to let her head be lower than his.
 

She glanced about at the other men and saw frowns of disapproval. Had they hoped that she would give up her privileges? "My guest will not stand," said Cone-shell firmly.
 

"If I sit there, then you must bend over," Tepua answered Cone-shell. "That is a position I do not think you will enjoy."

The other men muttered among themselves. Tepua wondered if this meeting would end before it even got started. Cone-shell made an angry gesture, beckoned a servant, and gave an order.
 

Tepua felt no sense of triumph when she saw the servant returning. He did not carry the higher stool that she had expected, but only a handful of mats. The servant slipped these under the seat intended for her.
 

Again Cone-shell offered her the stool Tepua sighed her acceptance and sat down, realizing as she did so how cleverly he had arranged things. The mats had merely raised her head to be even with his. He had acknowledged her as his equal but no better. She could do nothing about that now but clench her jaw.
 

At Cone-shell's signal three girls came forward to ready the drink. Tepua had performed this task for her father, and took little notice now of the preparations. Cone-shell began to speak while the maidens chewed the roots, spitting the infusion into the wooden bowl before them.
 

With forced joviality he said, "It is good that you visit us today, daughter of Kohekapu. We of Varoa Clan are happy to have you here. It is not often that one of such distinguished lineage comes for a visit." He went on in this manner, speaking of the history of Varoa Clan and of Ahiku Clan and of the atoll, but always avoiding the issue of her claim on the chieftainship. Meanwhile the maidens finished the first part of their task and began straining the root fibers from the cloudy liquid.
 

Tepua also made a speech, expressing her pleasure at being a guest of Varoa Clan. She, too, avoided the issue of her rank. It was a topic that would be discussed later, after the
kava
and the food.
 

She noticed the men leaning forward with eagerness as the preparations continued. Fresh coconut water was added to the
kava
brew, and the contents stirred until whipped to a froth. The first maiden filled a cup for Tepua. The second filled one for Cone-shell. Together the girls came forward and offered the drink.
 

Tepua dared not refuse it; in presenting
kava
, Cone-shell was paying her the highest respect. Fortunately, she knew the proper procedure for drinking. She took a deep breath and began to swallow, not stopping until she had drained the cup.
 

The peppery spice of the infusion was so strong that she barely tasted the mild coconut water that was mixed with it. She felt a numbing of her lips and noticed a sudden racing of her thoughts. The elders of Varoa Clan, partaking also, made brief speeches, but soon all talk ceased. Her legs felt heavy, suffused by the comforting lethargy that she had experienced before.
 

But an unexpected part of the ceremony began. Men sitting outside the central gathering were being offered the drink. Normally only people of high rank imbibed
kava
. Now one of the maidens invited Two-eels to come forward, and the young warrior was so flattered that he seemed to forget his station.
 

Tepua tried to speak, ordering him to refuse the drink. She found that her tongue had grown as heavy as her limbs. Helpless, in anguish, she watched Two-eels take a full cup.
 

He gulped his portion, made a brief speech, then stepped back to accept the adulation of his warriors. For the moment he seemed unaffected, and Tepua began to think that her suspicions were misplaced. Perhaps only she was so strongly touched by the drink....
 

In the excited state induced by
kava
, she found visions flashing in her mind almost too quickly to be followed. She imagined Kiore married to this woman or that, saw their children born and growing up, the hair of their youngsters colored in patches, dark in places and sandy in others. Then she saw Nika and Maukiri producing boys with black eyebrows and red beards. The sight made her want to laugh, but her lips did not move.
 

Then another vision came, and this one frightened her. A huge vessel, bearing many outsiders, arrived at the atoll. The men carried thunder-clubs—dozens of the loud weapons.
 

The strangers demanded food. To appease them, every coconut palm was stripped. When the invaders asked for more, and none could be found, they filled the sky with the smoke and noise of their weapons. Women screamed; children fled to the forest.
 

She had a sense that this would actually happen, if not on her own atoll then on some other, if not to her people then to their children or grandchildren. Greedy foreigners in large numbers would come; not even the gods could stop them.
 

Somehow the island people must survive the onslaught. She did not know how, only that she must play some part in helping them prepare. This was the thought she clung to as her visions became more and more tangled, and the weight of her head ever greater. Her arms grew as heavy as ironwood logs. Her eyes fell shut and she knew that she was falling....
 

 

Tepua woke, and sniffed for the scents from Cone-shell's ovens. The
kava
had overcome her, but now she felt ready to rejoin the festivities. She rubbed her eyes as her memory of the unsettling dreams began to fade.