by A. W. Exley
Austin exchanged a quick glance with his surrounding officers. “We need weapons. Ones more capable than the rifles the army provides. We cannot regain control of this country without suitable armaments.”
“I wasn’t aware we were making a push to retake New Zealand.” On a basic level Loki didn’t really care. War was highly profitable as long as someone paid for the cargo. But there was a secret hidden in Matanui, and he wanted to dig it out before the shooting started.
Austin stared into his glass. “It’s a matter of honour. Once this country is nestled under England’s wing, the natives will see the error of their ways.”
Miguel drew in an indignant breath and Loki trod on his toes to shut him up. They had seen the English method of assimilation and it involved the wholesale slaughter of the indigenous people. Integration was a hot topic for Miguel, who embraced whatever country they happened to be standing in. He didn’t want the lad starting a feud in the colonel’s parlour. He could wait until they were outside.
“Perhaps we can discuss your requirements tomorrow? Tonight should be for entertainment, not business.” With the on-ship communication device only picking up static, Loki made a note to use the local aethergraph and let Nate know of developments. He was also going to talk to Hone; may as well supply both sides if there was going to be a fight. Then he could free the Jenny Elle from her moorings and pick a winning side from a few hundred feet in the air and beyond range of any random shots.
Austin grunted, which Loki took as agreement. “There’s going to be a hunt tomorrow. Did you hear about the poor fellow who was killed? We suspect a bear and intend to flush it out of its hiding place.”
“I’m rather fond of a good hunt.” He had his eye on another prey or two.
“We leave at first light from the barracks, if you’re game.” Austin waved his drink and an aide rushed to top up his glass.
A Maori lass wearing a drab black uniform and fresh white apron appeared in the doorway and waved at the mistress. She clucked under her breath. “They will never learn the manners of good domestics.” She gestured with her head for the maid to retreat. Then in a louder tone, announced, “Dinner is ready, everyone. If you would follow us to the dining room.”
Colonel Austin held out his arm to his wife, and just as though they dined in Mayfair, the group followed them to the adjourning dining room. Much to Loki’s dismay, there was a distinct lack of female company. Mrs Austin and her ladies were all in their fifties and wore the sour expressions of women constantly disappointed in life.
Loki had no objection to older women; it was downturned mouths and holier-than-thou attitudes that he avoided. Nan and Nessy, two older women back in England, were a spontaneous handful even well into their sixties. He suspected no man, whatever his age, would forget an evening spent with those two.
Apart from Lord and Lady August, there were only two other couples present who had travelled out on the Jenny Elle. One wife was in Loki’s ‘must avoid’ category. She peered at him as though he had crawled out of the latrine. The other one was more approachable, but she was also down the other end of the table. He had Miguel seated beside him and then arrayed around their end of the table a couple of wet-behind-the-ears officers and a woman who looked like she sucked on lemons in her spare time.
He chose to quiz Miguel and the officers about the Maori and daily life in New Zealand. Given he had only been in the country a few days, his first mate had a far better command of the local language. Te Reo, they called it, and the more he heard the lyrical language spill from darkened throats the more his desire for Paniha grew.
LOKI ROSE EARLY and dressed in rough but sturdy clothing. Laced-up boots came to under his knees and a dark canvas jacket protected his torso. He slung a machete blade at his hip and a rifle over his back.
“I’m off hunting unicorns,” he called to Miguel, asleep in the front room. A unicorn was as likely to be the murderer as a bear, big cat, overgrown bird, or dragon.
A grunt was his only answer as he slipped out the door. Morning dew evaporated and rose from the ground, shrouding the country in mist as Loki walked across the field. What hid in the shadows?
A group of soldiers and settlers gathered in the rising light. The men mingled and muttered in low tones. Colonel Austin appeared, dressed like the typical English explorer, complete with linen suit and pith helmet. He also carried an elephant gun.
“We’ll start where Dudley was found and spread out looking for bear tracks from there,” the colonel announced.
As the sun peered over the tops of the trees they set off. Large hounds strained at their leashes. The mill site wasn’t too far away, the clearing an angry scar in the landscape. Raw earth lay exposed where the heavy horses scraped a layer from the forest floor as they dragged the logs away. Enormous kauri trunks were sawn off at waist height. Loki rested a hand on the stump of a slain giant. The tree must have been ancient, surviving for hundreds of years until the loggers took up their saws and felled it to feed the English need for timber. The tree's base was over twenty feet in diameter and if it were hollowed out, would have held several men in comfort.
“This is where he was found.” A lieutenant pointed to a particular stump at the edge of the work site.
The dog handlers circled, hoping their charges would pick up a scent. Other men stared at the disturbed undergrowth, looking for tracks. Loki gazed at a bird in a nearby tree. Pure black, it had a tuft of white feathers at its neck, as if the creature wore a cravat. A deep melodic song came from its throat.
The dogs barked and the bird fell quiet before taking flight, deeper into the covering trees. It seemed every bird, or every woman, he set his eye on took wing into shelter. He shook his head. He needed to either seize Paniha or decide on another. One warm body was much like the next, wasn’t it? He rubbed his chest. A dull ache cut through him at the thought of replacing Paniha with another willing maid. It was just a spot of indigestion. He shouldn’t have eaten his breakfast so fast; that was all it was.
A baying noise caught his attention. A dog had found a scent. The men called out and the chase was on. Onward through the bush they pushed. Only a few feet into the forest, it closed around them like a curtain had dropped. Short, squat ferns grew at the bases of the trees and snagged and pulled at their legs as they walked. Other ferns, called punga, had tall furry trunks before sprouting arching fronds.
Movement danced at the corner of Loki’s gaze as birds flitted through the trees. Tiny birds with fanlike tails chirped, their heads cocked inquisitively as they followed the men. At times they grazed over outstretched hands as they dived and played.
The men and dogs continued to crash through the undergrowth. Only the little fantails weren’t scared off; they saw nothing else. Loki’s stomach rumbled. The search was pointless. They hadn’t spotted any sign of bear or anything else. The soldiers had begun to mutter between themselves when Austin called a halt. Loki unhooked his water flask from his belt and took a large drink.
Strange birdcalls echoed through the trees and surrounded them. A chill shot down Loki’s spine—the sixth sense that told him when a fight was about to break out. But with whom? He peered into the dense trees and ferns, trying to spot what his gut told him was out there. One particular tree drew his attention, the little voice in his head getting louder as he concentrated on the rough bark.
Then the shadows detached from the trees and coalesced into Maori warriors surrounding the hunters. Bare chests were covered in intricate tattoos that told the story of their tribe. Each man held either a fighting staff or a shorter weapon like a flattened club, called a patu. None had firearms.
The tree that had drawn Loki’s eye transformed into Hone and a silent acknowledgment passed between the two men. Loki congratulated himself on figuring out the mighty warrior was even there; the British soldiers were oblivious. No wonder they lost the war.
Hone turned to fix Colonel Austin with his unnerving gaze. “You should not be here. This part of the fo
rest is tapu and does not welcome your presence.”
Austin clenched his rifle and waved it at the young chief. “We are hunting the bear that killed our man.”
Hone cocked his head to one side. “There is no bear here. Only men. Leave. Now.”
The warriors moved on silent feet, flitting in and out of the trees like the fantails. The soldiers spun this way and that, trying to keep their gazes locked on the Maori. The dogs dropped to the ground, their heads resting on massive paws; they at least seemed unconcerned.
They stood in the middle of a forest, but undercurrents better suited to a deep ocean swirled around them. This wasn’t a happy settlement with a perfect merging of British and Maori. Was it just a clash between two very different armies, or something more? The Maori opened their country to new settlers but the British were rather used to taking over and imposing their own set of rules. The British had lost the Maori wars over twenty years ago but the hostility seemed as raw as though it were only last week.
“I will protect my settlers.” Colonel Austin took a step closer and stumbled on a low fern. One of his men shot out an arm to steady their leader.
Loki was hungry. Time to defuse the tension and head back for lunch. “Given the Maori have been here for much longer and know the forest much better, I’m sure they will let us know if they spot any signs of bear or wild cats. Why don’t we all return to the town for something to eat? I’m famished with all this walking.”
“Yes. Well. Perhaps it is better to use them to scour the forest first.” Colonel Austin needed a way to back out without losing face. “Like the arrow fodder they are,” he muttered under his breath.
“Is that agreeable, Hone? Will you alert the soldiers if you see anything large and hungry?” Loki asked.
The large man’s gaze swung back to Loki and his words echoed back at him, for Hone certainly fit the description of large and hungry. A matching hunger flared in Loki for an instant and he wondered what the glistening sweat on the warrior’s shoulders would taste like. He drew a deep breath and refocused his thoughts. Would the Maori harm a settler simply going about his daily life?
“We will guard the forest, this land and her people, as we have always done.” Hone’s words were slow and measured. It reminded Loki that these people had adapted to the invaders and learned their tongue, while most of the British remained ignorant of Te Reo.
“There we go. Hone has matters in hand.” Loki waved his hands at the closest soldiers, urging them to turn around and retreat.
Austin’s gaze flicked from Loki to the Maori and back to his men. “Come on, lads, let’s leave the natives to patrol.”
Loki glanced over his shoulder as they retreated. The Maori men had disappeared back into the greenery. Only Hone stood alone, watching. Then he, too, seemed to blend into the tree trunk behind him, as though he were a part of the ancient giant.
Back at the cottage, Loki unslung his rifle and machete and grabbed a hunk of bread and cheese. He wedged the cheese into the bread and munched as he walked across to the storehouse. The Jenny Elle bobbed between her moorings and cast a large shadow across the grass. Loki needed to fill her cargo hold before word got around to the dissatisfied immigrants that they had an easier return journey than eight weeks in a stinking, leaking boat.
To James Taylor’s credit, he was working hard to find just the right sort of exotic valuable goods that would delight Londoners who never left their own shores. So far, Loki had assembled a range of unusual timbers and a growing collection of taxidermy animals for naturalists. The odd-looking kiwi with its fat, rounded body and long needle-like beak would soon sit in parlours in London. But Loki needed more, preferably expensive items like gold and jade, or pounamu in the local tongue. Next on his list of things to do was making contact with the whalers and offering them a faster route back to England for their oil and the valuable ambergris. But what he really needed to do was persuade Hone to part with the unique items the Maori made. A few shrunken heads would horrify society and have them scrabbling for their purses. The only question was, how could he get his hands on a few?
8
The next morning, Loki mentally ran through his list of tasks as he walked over to the warehouse. They were trying, unsuccessfully, to raise London on the aethergraph to see if they could secure a small airship to offer Hone in exchange for access to gold and jade. While he could fill the Jenny Elle’s hold with exotic timber and barrels of whale oil, the airship would be too heavy to climb very high and would have to skim the oceans like a bloated dragonfly on a pond. He’d much prefer a lighter cargo so he could soar.
He found Miguel going through their current stores and estimating weights, tallying the numbers in neat columns in a ledger.
“Any word from Nate?” Loki asked as he cast around at the open crates and stacks of wood. What they had gathered so far would barely occupy a quarter of the cargo hold.
“No. We can’t raise him on either the ship aethergraph or the one used in town. Taylor says they often have trouble with the signal due to the surrounding forest and it can take days for the right atmospheric conditions for it to work.” Miguel narrowed his gaze at the book as he drew a line and added a number.
“Blast. We don’t have days.” Loki rapped his short fingernails on a barrel while he ran through their available options. An idea sparked into his mind—a rather obvious idea that he should have thought of earlier. “Let’s take the big girl up for the day, see if it helps to get above the treeline. In fact, we could make it an outing and take a few of the locals with us for a bit of excitement.” The more he thought about it the more he liked the idea. Let Paniha see him in his natural domain—among the clouds. That should impress her.
Miguel laid down his pen. “Very well. Marika and I could see who is interested. I imagine the children would love a chance to fly. When do you want to leave?”
Loki suppressed a groan. Not more children on his airship! Well, at least it would only be for a few hours. “Tell the crew we leave in an hour. That should give you long enough to gather a crowd and for us to prepare Jenny Elle.”
His first mate nodded and then took off at a trot. Loki slapped a barrel as inspiration struck, then left the warehouse. In the cottage he changed into his black uniform. If he was going to give members of Hone’s tribe a flight he wanted to add to the sense of occasion. This would be a story they would tell their grandchildren for years to come. He brushed a mote off his shoulder, pulled down the short jacket, and ran a hand through his hair. Perfect.
The crew worked double-time. Loki suspected he wasn’t the only one feeling a tad earthbound. Most of them gravitated to life as a sky pirate for a reason: Feet on solid ground didn’t suit them. By the time they had undertaken their pre-flight routine, a crowd had gathered in the adjacent field. Loki smiled. There was nothing he loved more than an audience. Excited chatter rose from the assembled people. A few hung back, clinging to little ones, as though they feared Loki would spirit them away to another land, never to be returned.
Loki walked down the gangplank and approached the eager crowd. Paniha stood near the front with four children clustered around her. Loki held out a hand. “Would you come and see my world above the clouds?”
The children squealed. One in particular was so ear-piercing she could have a job as a warning klaxon. They jumped up and down and shouted, “Yes!”
Paniha laughed and patted one on the head. The smile she bestowed on Loki was shy with a hint of nervousness. Then she reached out and placed her hand in his. “Yes.”
This was the chink in her defences he needed, the opening he could prise a little wider. It’s the uniform. He kept his smugness to himself and swallowed it down. Women love a smart uniform, and the fact he was about to take her up to Heaven and back would help made a grand impression.
With the help of his men, they ushered a number of wide-eyed Maori and suspicious pakeha aboard. The crew ensured their day trip passengers were safe, either on the observation deck or, f
or the braver ones, clinging to the handrail on the walkway around the pod. The crew nudged each other and took bets on which passenger would be first to succumb to air sickness and fertilise the fields as they passed.
Loki led Paniha to the bridge and a position by the wide window, where he could see her as he laid his hands on the wheel. She waved to the people left behind in between darting curious glances at the array of machinery, dials, and knobs on the bridge equipment.
Loki caressed the wooden wheel with its brass inlay and muttered soft words of greeting to the airship. She may be a cumbersome and unattractive contraption, but he still asked her to give her best, just as he promised to do right by her. At a signal to the engine officer, the large turbines were started and the vibrations ran through the floor. Paniha jumped and her wide gaze found Loki.
“Just the engines starting. Think of it like a cat’s purr. It means she is ready to do what I ask of her.” Loki surveyed the gauges and dials that monitored the engine performance and the conditions in the special gas bladder that held them aloft. Once reassured that everything was functioning at the optimal level, he gave another signal. His order was relayed to the ground crew, who untied the mooring ropes from the solid posts.
Loki rested one hand on a lever and with a slow, gentle action he pushed the handle forward, releasing the Jenny Elle and controlling her ascent into the air. His bird was free. Throwing her into the air was like taking a flopping fish and dropping it back into water. Soon they would be in their natural habitat.
A gasp came from Paniha as the world fell away beneath them. She laid both hands on the glass as the ship rose effortlessly into the sky. The assembled people who had come to see them off backed away, heads tilted to keep watch. Soon they diminished to the size of dolls and the vista was spread out before them like a patchwork quilt.
“Let’s take a circular route, lads. Comms, let me know when we have a viable signal,” Loki called over his shoulder as he steered the Jenny Elle toward the west. They had approached Matanui from the east and he was curious to see more of this strange land.