Sister of the Sun (35 page)

"The Rongo
ariki
speaks well," said a Piho elder. "A stray boat might arrive by accident, but why would anyone seek us out? The foreigners possess lands of their own, where they build great wonders. We have nothing they want."
 

"Their vessels must be provisioned," Tepua interjected. "The crews are large and they are at sea for many months. One vessel could swallow up all the food we have."
 

"Then let us prepare to defend ourselves," said Cone-shell, "We can build weapons like theirs." He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. "We have men who can teach us."
 

No
! The thought of more foreign weapons made Tepua shudder. "We cannot make these things," she said to Cone-shell. "We do not have the kind of stone they need."
 

"Does this stone fall from the sky?" asked Cone-shell, grimacing contemptuously. "Is it something that only the foreign gods give their people?" He looked from one face to the next, but no one answered him.
 

Finally a Rongo elder spoke. "If outsiders come to us for provisions, we must ask for this precious stone in return. That is how we will get what we need to build the weapons."

Tepua heard this suggestion with dismay, then thought of a new argument. The gods had forbidden her people to shoot arrows at each other. What would they say about using these thunder makers? "Let me hear a priest's view." She turned to Faka-ora.
 

The high priest took a deep breath. "We dare not use such weapons against our own people. The gods would punish us severely. But I see nothing wrong with turning these spewers-of-smoke against the foreigners who made them."
 

Tepua felt stunned by his answer. The idea of these weapons in the hands of her own people repelled her, regardless of how they were used. "What could we offer in trade for the stone?" she asked, hoping to discourage this talk. "We have nothing but food, and little enough of that."
 

"Plant more coconut trees!" said one of Varoa's men. The reply brought an uproar of agreement.

"That is no answer!" Tepua protested. The meeting became so unruly that she was ready to call an end to it. But nothing had been decided. The others seemed content with blustering and making vague plans. "Umia," she said, when the voices had finally quieted. "Tell us your thoughts."
 

She watched the young man turn to Cone-shell and meet his hostile gaze. "I wish to remind you, Uncle, of how our lives used to be. In the past we were always fighting among ourselves. Now our clans support each other. Yet an atoll is still a small place."
 

"Small!" said Cone-shell. "Everything a man needs is here. If we lack something, we find ways to get it."

"Until the outsiders came, I believed so," answered Umia. "Now I see that there are people and places we know nothing about. Out of malice or carelessness these foreigners may do us harm." He paused, and no voice rose against him. "We are fortunate," continued Umia. "The gods wisely spread our atolls in a wide swath across the sea. There are so many islands that the outsiders cannot descend on them all. That is where our hope lies. And why we must settle our differences with other islanders."
 

"He speaks well,'' said Tepua. She looked about and saw that Umia's words had made an impression. People glanced at each other in surprise. Such wisdom from the young man they had once dismissed as unready for the chiefhood!
 

"Yes, he has made a good point," said Heka. "The foreigners may be dangerous, but I do not think they can destroy all the atoll people. With alliances we will have places of refuge, and food when ours is gone."
 

"Alliances, yes," Cone-shell shouted. "But not with Pu-tahi eels."

"They are the strongest friends anyone could have!" replied Umia.

Some voices joined Umia's. Others still argued against Ata-katinga. "How do we know the Pu-tahi will not betray us later?" shouted someone. "They will act like friends for a time, then turn on us."
 

Tepua kept silent awhile. Umia was doing well enough on his own. Cone-shell persisted with the opposing view, slowly losing supporters. Yet many people remained adamant against making an agreement with the old enemy.
 

One man had not spoken—Paruru. Knowing his true feelings toward the Pu-tahi, she had not objected to his silence. Now he began to speak, in a firm voice that made everyone turn to him. "I have listened to these arguments and I have not been swayed. Those of you who have faced the Pu-tahi in battle understand. We can never trust them. We can never feel comfortable with them around us. Get rid of the man-eaters, I say, before they take advantage of our hospitality. Do not allow them to stay another night."
 

Tepua rose to her feet. "We have a meeting of peace here, sanctioned by the gods," she answered hotly. "I will not have it ruined by talk of distrust." She waved her hand at the assembly. "Discuss this all you want. Light fires, and stay up all night if you must. Then we will meet again and see who still clings to Cone-shell and Paruru."
 

 

The
kaito-nui
was not surprised when Cone-shell approached him a short time later. "There is too much bad air about," said Varoa's chief, making a fanning motion in front of his face.
 

"I know a place where the air is fresh," answered Paruru, "and where a man can speak freely." He led Cone-shell onto a little-used path across the island.
 

The men walked in silence. There was no telling who might be listening, hidden under the sweeping branches of hibiscus or behind the aerial roots of
fara
palms. Paruru felt an obligation toward Cone-shell now, and the thought made him uncomfortable.
 

Varoa's chief had never spoken a word to Paruru about the turtle incident. He had let his brother, the high priest, handle the problem at his
marae.
After the ceremony was done, and the spirits appeased, Cone-shell had treated the offenders as honored guests.
 

Now Paruru found himself together with Cone-shell on the same side. It was a partnership that he did not welcome, yet he saw no alternative.
 

"This is the way down," said Paruru, descending a short slope toward the seaward beach. A brisk sea wind was blowing, spray from the breakers leaping high. The water beyond was gray under the clouded sky.
 

The warrior looked around with satisfaction at the barren shore, where only a few scrubby bushes grew amid exposed and weather-blackened coral. There was no place here for an eavesdropper to hide.
 

Cone-shell found a stone perch and motioned for Paruru to take a lower seat in front of him. "I admire your little island," said Varoa's chief. "Do you know that it once belonged to my clan? That was before Ahiku people lived on this atoll."
 

"We did not come here to talk of ancient wars," said Paruru, annoyed.

"That is true. We came to talk of helping each other."

"I have heard your opinions and you have heard mine," said Paruru. "They are much the same, though for different reasons. It is my duty to protect Tepua. And I will not have stinking Pu-tahi on our shores."
 

"Then we two must work together."

The warrior studied Cone-shell's eager expression. He looked like a spear fisherman at the moment of his thrust, but Paruru was not ready to be his prey. "I do not think our goals are exactly the same," Paruru cautioned. "You wish to challenge Tepua's rule. It does not matter if the issue is Pu-tahi or spoils or an argument over a coconut tree."
 

"I wish what is best for all the clans," replied Cone-shell, slapping his chest. "This chief is not afraid of battles. I will fight Pu-tahi. I will fight foreigners."
 

"What if we win?" asked Paruru. "What if sentiment grows so strong that Tepua is forced to send Ata-katinga away? Then her power to rule will be weakened."
 

"Is that not for the best? Do you truly believe a woman should lead us?"

Paruru's mouth felt dry and he had difficulty bringing an answer to his lips. "My opinion means nothing. She will continue to do so—until the gods place the sacred power with someone else."
 

"That day is not far off."

"Perhaps."
But you will not be the chosen one.

"We certainly have differences," said Cone-shell in a friendly tone. "Yet there is something we both want. Let us work together to prevent an agreement with the Pu-tahi.''
 

"And Tepua? What will happen to her if we succeed?"

"She is no fool. She will not make this a test of her authority. When the wind blows, the palm tree bends."

 

 

 

NINETEEN

 

Soon after leaving Cone-shell, Paruru found the outsiders at their secluded forest campsite. They had been told to remain here, out of sight of the Pu-tahi. He hoped that they would not grow restless too quickly.
 

The day's shadows had lengthened. In the center of a clearing a fire burned above ground, and the cooking odors made Paruru widen his nostrils.
Meat
. But of what sort? None he had ever smelled before.
 

"Come. Join us." Nika shouted, waving a charred lump at the warrior. His words were oddly slurred; his usually dour face bore a wild grin.
 

Paruru felt a lurch in his stomach. What new form of mischief had the men discovered? On the ground he saw the battered bodies of two coconut rats. The bloodied skins of others lay in a heap beside them.
 

"Good meat!" Nika said, his food muffling his words. His chin was greasy. When he took another bite, dark juices dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
 

"We...do not eat...rats," Paruru said, fighting the nausea that began to rise.

"Another
tapu
! I will eat them anyway!"
 

"The rats are our friends," Paruru muttered, but he saw that the men were not listening. Some strangeness, perhaps an evil spirit, had entered them. Their faces were glazed with sweat and displayed a childish kind of happiness.
 

"Try one," said Kiore, removing a stick that had hung over the fire. He offered the charred end to the warrior.

Paruru nearly gagged. Fending it off with one hand, he said, "I cannot eat that. But you are outsiders. Perhaps no harm will come to you."
 

"If you do not eat, then drink with us," Nika bellowed. He clapped his hand on Paruru's shoulder. "You are my brother. I share everything with you."
 

"I came to tell you about the Pu-tahi," the warrior said, his voice rising with his frustration. He smelled the rank odor of the men and knew that they had not washed themselves recently. With dismay he realized that the sailors, left alone, were reverting to their old habits.
 

"We know about those sharp-toothed fellows," Kiore assured him in tones of slurred joviality. He, too, clapped his arm about Paruru. "We spied on them from the bushes."
 

"You might have been seen!" said Paruru with alarm. "Those men are dangerous!"

"Fierce!" said Kiore, moving his forefinger across his face as if tracing tattoos. "Very fierce. If they catch us, they will eat us. Like this." With his teeth, he tore off another mouthful of meat. "After they eat us, they will be sick. Fall down. Unh! Dead." He clutched at his stomach, toppled over, then lay still while Nika heaved with laughter.
 

"This is no time for joking," Paruru hissed. "The visitors are deceivers. They will talk quietly for a time and then they will start a fight."
 

"No, my brother," said Nika. "These visitors will not harm anyone. We will not let them." He stood up and spread his legs, imitating the stance of a warrior. He held an imaginary spear, as if ready to throw it."I am too strong for them. They will not get past me."
 

Paruru stared with narrowed eyes. He had never seen the men like this, beyond reasoning. A feeling of helplessness came over him.
 

Kiore staggered to his feet and tried to embrace Paruru again. "You are my friend's brother. Come and drink with us. We are lonely here."
 

"Bring us women," Nika suggested. "Then we can be happy." He pushed a coconut cup toward Paruru and the warrior reluctantly took it. If he kept refusing their hospitality, he thought, then the sailors would soon scorn him.
 

The sharp odor rising from the cup was familiar. Paruru's eyebrows rose as he remembered the foreign drink. Another whiff convinced him that this was the stinging potion that Cone-shell had tasted and spat out. But what was the drink doing here? He had last seen its container when the foreign goods were moved.
 

"Take some," said Kiore. "Why are you waiting?"

Paruru remembered Nika's insistence that he try the smoke of his "pipa." Now he realized that he would have to swallow this unpleasant brew, though it burned his mouth and throat. Eager to get the chore done, he took a quick swallow....
 

"
Aue
!" Paruru forced himself to take another gulp. He had not asked how the men obtained this, for he knew the answer. One of them had flaunted the priests' sanctions. Someone had committed a new offense against the gods. And now Paruru felt the punishment falling swiftly on himself. His insides were afire, from his throat down to his belly. "
Aue
!"
 

As Paruru sat looking at the grease-smeared faces of the foreigners, he knew that he could only blame himself for this newest offense. He was the one who had disclosed the hiding place of the goods, in order to gain Nika's trust.
 

But somehow, as he sat there, Paruru began to feel less disturbed about his mistake. He glanced down at the cup in his hands and thought that the drink was actually better man he had expected. He tried another swallow.