The World Duology (World Odyssey / Fiji: A Novel) (47 page)

BOOK: The World Duology (World Odyssey / Fiji: A Novel)
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Joeli had noticed the survivor flee, also. He ordered his two trackers to hunt the man down. Rewa and Penaia immediately set off in pursuit. Not trusting them to do the job, Nathan took off after them, priming his musket as he ran.

Before disappearing into the trees, he glanced back at the European they’d set out to save and was relieved to see he was still alive.


After running nonstop for ten minutes, Nathan was breathing so hard he felt as if his lungs were on fire. The trackers were so far ahead of him now he could only faintly hear them crashing through the undergrowth. He wondered if they were gaining on the fleeing outcast. Two musket shots raised his hopes.

Forcing himself to run harder, Nathan finally caught up to Rewa and Penaia. They were standing at the edge of a cliff, staring resignedly down into a deep gorge. Their muskets were still smoking. Nathan immediately knew the outcast had given them the slip. Following their gaze, he saw the distant figure of the man they’d been pursuing. The outcast was running hard along the bottom of the gorge and would soon be out of sight. He was already further away than anything Nathan had previously shot.

Desperate to keep him from alerting Rambuka, Nathan dropped to the ground and lined up the fleeing outcast in his sights. The Qopa trackers looked on with interest.

Still breathing hard, Nathan knew he’d only get one shot. Even though he was a fine marksman, the outcast was so far away, he doubted he was even within range.

As he lined up his target, he forced himself to slow his breathing and remain perfectly still—not easy after his recent exertions. The target looked no bigger than an ant in his sights. Ignoring the sweat that stung his eye, Nathan tried to shut out all other thoughts as he slowly applied pressure to the trigger.

Try as he may, an image of Susannah’s face kept coming to mind. Nathan forced himself to concentrate. Just before he squeezed the trigger, he breathed out slowly—as he had done a thousand times before. When his lungs were finally emptied of air, he squeezed the trigger ever so gently. The shot split the silence and echoed throughout the hills.

To Nathan’s relief, his aim was true. The outcast fell to the ground and lay there, unmoving. Nathan looked up at the two trackers. They were staring at him in awe. Slowly, their faces creased into toothy smiles.

5

R
eturning to the outcasts’ campsite, Nathan and the two trackers heard raised voices. Someone was having a heated argument. Nathan thought he recognized Joeli’s voice. Emerging from the trees, he saw the ratu standing astride Jack Halliday. The Cockney was still tied up and Joeli was threatening to smash his skull with the whale bone club he was holding.

“Joeli!”
Nathan called, running to his side. “What are you doing?”

When Joeli turned to face him, Nathan could see the blood lust in his eyes. Speaking Fijian, Joeli said, “This dog slept with my woman!” He paused to spit on Jack. “And he slept with two of my sisters!” He then kicked Jack in the ribs, causing him to grunt in pain.

“Speak English!” Nathan said.

“He . . . Jack Halliday,” Joeli said, in English this time. “He
visit Momi Bay before. He sleep with my woman . . .and my two sisters!”

“Tell him he’s got the wrong man, will you?” Jack mumbled to Nathan.

The American immediately noted the other’s distinctly English accent. “Who are you then?” he asked.

“I’m Jack Halliday, but I never slept with those women.” Jack knew he was talking for his life. He sensed the American was his only chance if he was to escape the wrath of Joeli, whose woman and sisters he had indeed slept with. Until six months ago, he’d been a frequent visitor to Momi Bay—to trade with Joeli’s father. During those visits, he estimated he’d slept with a dozen or more different women in the village. He clearly remembered seducing Joeli’s woman. That had been on his last visit. He’d been found out and had only just managed to flee Momi Bay alive. Glancing at Joeli, he said, “He confused me then and he’s confusing me now for another man.”

“What other man?” Nathan asked.

“Me trading partner.”

Nathan turned to Joeli. “He said you’re confusing him with his trading partner.”

In his angry state, Joeli couldn’t understand what Nathan was saying—and he was running out of patience. “He
die!” Joeli said, raising his club threateningly.

“No!” Nathan said, jumping between Joeli and the captive. “He can help us.” Both Joeli and Jack looked bemused. Turning back to Jack, Nathan asked, “You can use a musket, can’t you?”

“Of course,” Jack responded eagerly.

Looking back at Joeli, Nathan said, “He can use one of the spare muskets. God knows, we need all the help we can get.”

Joeli remained unconvinced.

Sensing an opportunity, Jack hurriedly added, “I have muskets.”

This got Joeli’s attention. “Where?”

“A few miles east of here,” Jack said, quickly explaining how he’d left his horse-drawn cart earlier to strike out on foot. “I have two spare muskets and powder in the cart.”

Joeli considered this. Finally, he said, “You show us.”

Relief flooded through Jack. He knew he’d bought himself some time at the very least.

Joeli left Nathan to untie Jack, indicating he was anxious to get moving. Nathan produced his Bowie knife and quickly cut Jack’s bonds.

“I can’t thank you enough,” a relieved Jack said as he painfully pushed himself to his feet.

“You’ll get your chance to help us soon enough,” Nathan promised. Looking around, he saw Joeli and his warriors were waiting impatiently for Jack to lead them to his cart. “Let’s go.”

Jack nodded then hesitated, remembering his faithful guide. He turned back to look at the remains of the native hanging over the still-flickering fire. Glancing at the Bowie knife Nathan carried on his hip, he held out his hand. “Your knife,” he said.

Nathan handed the knife over without hesitating. He and the others looked on impassively as Jack cut his guide free before dragging the body away from the fire and covering it with branches that were lying nearby.

“May you find peace in the Afterworld,” Jack murmured in fluent Fijian before returning the knife to Nathan and setting off to find his cart. The others followed. Fortunately, the cart had been left close to their intended route, so they wouldn’t have to go far out of their way.

Before leaving the campsite, Nathan noticed the Qopa warriors had helped themselves to sizable morsels of pork from one of the pig carcasses to supplement their rations. All that was left of it was the head and hind legs. Taking their lead, he sliced off some portions from another carcass for himself and stuffed them into his backpack before hurrying to catch up to the others.

#

An hour later, they located the cart exactly where Jack said it would be. The two horses were still patiently waiting, grazing on the grass beneath their hooves. Throwing back the covers, Jack produced two muskets and a bag of powder. Placing one musket over his shoulder, he held the other one out to Joeli, saying, “It’s yours.”

Joeli snatched it from him and handed it to Nathan. The American willingly accepted it. Although he already had a musket, he had a feeling he’d soon be thankful for the extra one.

“We go now,” Joeli announced. He set off at a fast trot, keen to make up for lost time. His warriors followed.

Anxious not to get left behind, Nathan turned to Jack.
“Hurry!” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” Jack said. He immediately untied his horses. “I can’t leave these beauties to starve.” He whacked the nearest horse on the rump, sending her scampering away. The other horse reared up and followed her mate. Looking at Nathan, Jack said, “Ready now, me ol’ china.”

The two men set off. Nathan set a fast pace, determined to catch up to the others as quickly as possible. As they ran, Nathan noted his companion was having no trouble keeping up. He obviously kept fit.

Running at Nathan’s shoulder, Jack wondered where they were heading and what the urgency was. He guessed it had something to do with the cannibals who had captured his guide and himself. “Where are we going?” he called out.

“Save your breath,” Nathan responded. “I’ll tell you later.”


It took the pair some time to catch up to the others. As soon as the Qopa warriors noticed them, they pulled up. Several rounded on Jack. Weapons raised, they looked like they wanted to kill him. Joeli stood back, content to let his men have their way.

Turning to Nathan, a bemused Jack asked, “What now?”

Before Nathan could inquire, a warrior struck the Cockney a glancing blow with the stock of his musket, felling him. The others closed in. There was murder in their eyes.

Only the intervention of Waisale prevented further harm being done to Jack. While Waisale held the others at bay, Nathan looked at Joeli inquiringly.

“Some of men say Jack Halliday sleep with their women, also,” the ratu said accusingly. He pointed out two young warriors who were betrothed to his sisters. “They want kill the White-Face, too.” He then pointed to an older warrior. “And he angry. He say Jack Halliday sleep with his daughter.”

Nathan looked back to Jack, who was only now recovering his senses from the blow he’d received. The American realized he needed to do something to prevent the irate warriors from killing Jack.

Stepping between the Cockney and the others, Nathan looked directly at Joeli. “Jack Halliday can help us get the golden tabua back,” he said. “When it is back where it belongs then you can discipline him.”

Joeli thought about this. He quickly saw the wisdom in Nathan’s words. Firing orders at his warriors, the ratu turned and resumed walking. His warriors glared at Jack before following their leader.

Jack turned to Nathan. “That’s another one I owe you.”

Without another word, Nathan resumed walking. Jack hurried to catch up to him. They walked in silence for the next little while, each man lost in his thoughts. Finally, Nathan asked, “So who else have you slept with?”

Jack chuckled. “Your friends were exaggerating,” he said. “I’m a happily married man.” They walked a little further in silence then Jack asked, “Who can I thank for saving me back there?”

“Nathan Johnson.”

“Well, I’m grateful to you, Nathan Johnson.”

“So, when did you sleep with Joeli’s woman?” Nathan asked, making it clear he didn’t believe his companion’s earlier lies.

Grinning sheepishly, Jack said, “On me last visit to Momi Bay . . .about six months ago.”

“And his sisters?”

“That was the previous visit.”

“What did you trade at Momi Bay, or didn’t you have time for that?”

Ignoring Nathan’s sarcasm, Jack said, “Mainly tools and clothing.”

“For what?”

“Sandalwood . . . until the timber ran out.” Jack went on to tell Nathan about his new venture, trading muskets for cutting rights to the kauri forests around Tomanivi.

In turn, Nathan told Jack about himself and the reason they were heading for Tomanivi. As the day progressed, the Cockney and his American savior found they had much in common. Each recognized a kindred spirit in the other. Like it or not, Nathan knew a bond was developing between them.

6

I
n less than two days, despite being slowed down by his hostage, Rambuka had put nearly a day on his pursuers. In addition to his superior knowledge of the Nausori Highlands and most, if not all, the shortcuts over, through, and around them, he’d been receiving help from friendly villagers along the way.

Most recently, the Outcast and Susannah had been ferried by canoe from one friendly village to a point not two miles from his hideout at Tomanivi. Now, as they trekked the final leg to his hideout, he knew there was no stopping him.

Rambuka was having second thoughts about whether Joeli was coming after him. There had been no sightings of a Qopa raiding party reported by villagers—or by his men whom he believed were hunting west of his current position. He was convinced if Joeli and his warriors were on the warpath, one of his hunters would have seen them, or heard about them at least, and got word to him. For the first time since abducting the white woman, he was starting to relax.

Susannah, however, was more fearful than ever. Although her abductor hadn’t had his way with her yet, she knew it was only a matter of time. The frightened Englishwoman wasn’t quite sure why Rambuka hadn’t already raped her.

God knows, he’s had plenty of opportunity.


By the time they arrived at the outcasts’ hideout at Tomanivi, Susannah was so exhausted she had to be half-carried by her abductor. What remained of her dress was hanging from her in tatters and she was now covered from head to foot in scratches, bruises, and abrasions—some of which she’d received in the beating Rambuka had given her after her unsuccessful escape attempt.

When lookouts announced their arrival, Rambuka and Susannah were greeted by a hundred or more whooping and hollering outcasts. Half-naked and adorned in nose and ear bones, the outcasts looked frighteningly savage. All the men and some of the women were armed.

Susannah noticed there was almost one woman for every man. Some looked so tough they were almost indistinguishable from the men. Most of the women were slaves. They were carrying firewood and performing other mundane chores. Some would have been attractive were it not for their tattered clothes and unkempt appearance. Many bore cuts and bruises, the results of recent beatings. Some were caring for toddlers and babies. It seemed Rambuka’s aim to increase his followers’ numbers was working.

Susannah also noted there were a number of non-Fijian Islanders among the outcasts. They included Tongans and Samoans. Their facial features were Polynesian rather than Melanesian and their skin color more golden than dark. Susannah was able to accurately guess their origins having seen portraits of Islanders in the numerous text books she had studied.

Among the slaves was Sina, the pretty Qopa maiden Rambuka had abducted from Momi Bay earlier that year. Gone was the happy smile and carefree manner she’d once possessed. These had long since been replaced by a dejected countenance and sadness for the life she’d lost. Sina noted Susannah’s arrival with interest as did several older women who drooled over her, poking her white skin and stroking her hair. Susannah recoiled from them.

Rambuka handed his latest captive over to two grinning outcasts and pointed to a large bure in the middle of the clearing. They escorted her toward it, half dragging her through the mud.

Lord, give me strength,
Susannah thought as she was dragged toward the bure.

Although close to collapse, she had the presence of mind to observe her new
surroundings. The outcasts’ encampment was a motley collection of crude bures. It was in a valley running north to south at the foot of the forest-covered Tomanivi—just as the captured outcast had told Joeli back at Momi Bay. Human bones in and around cooking pots outside some huts pointed to cannibalistic practices. Skulls and the grotesque shrunken heads of former enemies and slaves were displayed outside almost every dwelling.

Susannah couldn’t believe her eyes when a middle-aged midget around four feet tall suddenly appeared from within a dwelling and walked right up to her. The very sight of him made her skin crawl. Wearing snakeskin garments and a lizard skin turban adorned with the heads of dead snakes and lizards, the midget stopped in front of Susannah and clapped his hands half a dozen times as if to clear the air around her. He then made some strange clicking noises with his tongue before walking away.

The young woman guessed, correctly, the midget was some kind of barau, or sorcerer. In fact, he was one of several barau who had joined Rambuka’s outcasts after being cast out from other clans around Viti Levu. In most cases, they’d become outcasts because their considerable powers were feared by the common people. In the midget’s case, the other members of his clan had rightly believed him to be evil. Rambuka had taken him and the other barau in, in the hope they would give him some kind of supernatural advantage over his enemies.

Susannah’s escorts delivered her to the large bure, pausing only in the doorway to hand her over to a huge woman with no hair and, it seemed, no teeth. Apparently used to the routine, the woman took Susannah inside, forcibly sat her down on the dirt floor in the center of the bure and tied her to a pole that extended all the way up to the high thatched roof.

Despite her fear and discomfort, Susannah fell into an exhausted sleep almost immediately.


Later, Sina entered the bure carrying a calabash of berries. She knelt down in front of Susannah and shook her gently, waking her with a start. Speaking passable English, Sina said, “Do not be frightened.”

Susannah registered surprise at being addressed in English. “You speak English!” She wasn’t to know Sina had been taught English by the Wesley Methodist missionary couple the Drakes had taken over from at Momi Bay. “Who are you?”

Sina smiled and began hand-feeding Susannah who gulped the berries down hungrily. “I am Sina, of the Qopa. Iremaia is my ratu—”

Interjecting, Susannah asked, “You are from Momi Bay?” Sina nodded. The Englishwoman continued, “I am from the mission station at Momi Bay. I arrived there recently. Iremaia is now dead. Joeli is the ratu.”

Sina quickly accepted this news in the manner of one who has experienced much sadness in her short life. “You know Waisale?” she asked hopefully.

Susannah racked her brains. “Yes, I think so.” She was in such a wretched state she was having difficulty marshalling her thoughts. However, she eventually managed to put a face to the name. “Waisale is the fine-looking young man with a birthmark . . . here?” she asked, pointing to her forehead.

Sina smiled. “Yes. That him.” A look of pain and happiness simultaneously registered in her eyes. She looked down and whispered, “He my man.” After a painful pause, the young maiden continued, “Rambuka take me as slave.” She touched Susannah affectionately. “You also slave now.”

Susannah shook her head. “No, I am not a slave.”

“We slave for life. There nowhere to go for escape.”

“No, Nathan will come for me,” Susannah assured her.

Sina looked bemused. “Who Nay-than?”

“He . . . he’s . . . my friend.” Looking into Sina’s eyes, Susannah could see the girl didn’t believe that Nathan, or anyone, was coming for her. It suddenly hit her, Sina was probably right. She knew the Qopa had been trying to track down the outcasts for years.

Even if Nathan is looking for me, why would he have any more luck than the others?

As the hopelessness of her situation sank in, Susannah dissolved into tears.


With dusk approaching and light rain beginning to fall, Joeli ordered his trackers to find a suitable site for his party to overnight at.

Just as Waisale had the previous evening, the trackers found a cave—this time in the side of a hill. Fortunately, there was no shortage of caves in the interior of Viti Levu.

Thanks to their foresight in taking pork morsels from the outcasts’ campsite earlier in the day, all except Jack enjoyed a fine meal of roast pork. Joeli had banned Jack from eating with them, or from sleeping in the cave. He and the other aggrieved warriors were adamant the womanizing white man stay as far away from them as possible. They were still furious he was in their midst. It was only the realization they may need him and his muskets in the days ahead that was keeping him alive.

Feeling sorry for his new friend, Nathan smuggled some roasted pork slithers out to a grateful Jack, who was doing his best to make himself comfortable on a damp bed of ferns just outside the cave entrance. “Don’t let them see you eating this, or that’ll be the last straw,” Nathan warned.

Grinning his cheeky grin, Jack said, “
Thanks, mate. That’s another one I owe ya.”

The American was about to head back inside the cave, when he noticed Jack’s back was criss-crossed by numerous scars. The high humidity had prompted the Cockney to remove his shirt. Even in the gloom, the unsightly welts were noticeable. Nathan knew they could only have been caused by floggings. He also knew the Pacific Islands were a magnet
for escaped convicts and many of them ended up in Fiji at some point.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a convict?” Nathan asked.

Surprised, Jack spun around to face the American. He’d momentarily forgotten about the telltale marks on his back. “Me convict days ain’t somethin’ I like to brag about,” he eventually replied. “Besides, it was so long ago it seems like it never happened.”

Nathan nodded. He understood exactly what it felt like to want to leave the past behind and try to become a different person.

The rain began pelting down, prompting Nathan to retreat to the relative comfort of the cave, leaving the Cockney suddenly feeling very alone. With nothing but leaves and branches covering him, Jack was wet and miserable. His thoughts immediately turned to self-preservation.

Jack deduced there was nothing to stop him heading back to his own village on the Coral Coast. He knew exactly where it was and guessed he’d be halfway there before he was even missed. But something was holding him back. Nathan’s predicament, or, more correctly, the predicament Nathan’s English friend had found
herself in, had touched him. Jack genuinely wanted to help Nathan rescue the woman he so obviously loved.

Besides, he saved me life. I owe him.

Thunder and lightning announced the arrival of a storm. Suddenly cold, Jack quickly donned his shirt, pulled the branches back over him, and settled down for what he expected would be a long night.

Inside the cave, Nathan was in for a long night
,  too, but for different reasons: looking into the flames of the nearby fire, he was consumed by worry for Susannah. He wondered how she was faring and whether Rambuka had had his way with her yet.

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