by A. W. Exley
They crossed Austin’s line and Loki made a point of smudging it with the tip of his boot. Keeping low, they approached the barracks. Two more men stood on guard by the entrance, one of either side of the lime chip path. These ones leaned against the wall and were slightly more aware than the last two. One squinted and pushed off the boards. He stared into the night beyond the yellow circle given off by their brazier, as though he sensed they were there but couldn’t make them out.
“Who goes there?” he called out, raising his rifle.
His comrade stepped forward and unshouldered his weapon. Their booted feet crunched on the gravel as they advanced while the Maori remained silent on the grass. The soldiers stepped around the brazier, putting the light behind them. Shapes formed before them and became men. By the time the soldiers realised someone was there and tried to aim their firearms, it was too late. Patu rose and fell, and two more of Austin’s men were unconscious and stretched out on the grass.
Hone’s men dragged the fallen soldiers to the edge of the barracks and laid them at the base of the building. The shadow thrown by the wall would conceal them from a casual glance if someone looked for them from the steps.
Next Hone gestured for four of his men to remain outside, two on each side to patrol the perimeter and alert them of any approaching soldiers. Now things would become trickier.
The niggle at the base of Loki’s skull warned of a trap. “This is too easy. There should be more soldiers on patrol,” he murmured to Hone.
The other man surveyed the scene and then his gaze returned to Loki. “The colonel does not have that many men. They cannot all patrol day and night. We will free Paniha tonight.”
Loki didn’t doubt they would, and ideally, they would steal her back without Austin noticing until morning. Yet the niggle remained, pricking at him with each step, warning him to be on guard.
Hone went first into the building and snuck a quick look inside before waving the others to follow him. Loki stayed at the chief’s left hand, Miguel behind him, and then the other warriors. They passed through the main doors and into the square entry. Gas lights flickered at regular intervals inside and lit the corridors and rooms. At one end, soldiers slumbered in their bunk rooms and would be roused by too much noise.
“This way,” Loki whispered and pointed to the left-hand corridor that terminated in the cell holding Paniha.
He crept on the balls of his feet, willing his boots not to make a noise while the Maori were as silent as wraiths behind him. Hushed voices came from around a corner. More guards. How many men did Austin have patrolling at night while the others slept? Loki did a quick calculation in his head. If the colonel was rotating his men at regular intervals, he couldn’t have more than ten or fifteen awake through the dark hours.
“Shall we?” Loki murmured to Hone. He needed to do something more than look decorative, and the small vain part of him—the part that more resembled a peacock than a hawk—wanted to show off his fighting ability to Hone.
The young chief grinned and nodded. They walked around the corner to find two more soldiers. Hone bore down on one as Loki jumped after the other. He didn’t have the warrior’s bulk or patu; instead he used what was at hand and smashed the soldier’s head into the wooden panelling lining the hall. The thud reverberated along the wall and then the red-clad man crumpled to the floor in an untidy heap.
Hone almost dispatched his silently, but patu meeting back of skull gave an almighty crack that made Loki wince. As the man dropped, Hone caught him with one arm. He dragged his man over and dumped him next to the other, making them look as though they had both passed out in a drunken stupor.
“We’re going to wake up the sleeping men if we’re not careful,” Loki said. Slitting throats was silent, but he baulked at killing fellow Englishmen. They were following orders, however stupid they were. His conscience was easier about rendering them out of action for an hour or so. They would recover from bumps on the head, but not from gaping wounds in their necks.
If the other army men poured out of their rooms, the pirates and Maori would be outnumbered and against a force with more modern weapons. They had the advantage of surprise and being in close quarters. A knife or patu could be wielded faster than a rifle but despite Loki’s confidence, he didn’t want to risk lives to find out how that fight would play out.
“We will have Paniha and be gone before they can put on their trousers.” Hone gestured for two men to stay guard at this end of the corridor and they moved forward again. Now just seven of them advanced, with Hone’s four men creeping behind.
The bottom of the corridor opened out into the room with the cells. Paniha’s form was just visible stretched out on the cot, a blanket pulled over her shoulders. She would soon be free and in Hone’s arms. Loki had one thing to satisfy his curiosity about first. Before they went into the end chamber, he tapped Miguel and gestured to the wide double doors to one side.
“This one first, before we liberate Paniha. I need a quiet moment in Austin’s office.” Then he pointed to the lock.
Miguel nodded and pulled out two slim metal picks from his pocket. He knelt down and inserted the hooks into the brass lock. He fiddled and twisted, and angled the picks. In no time there was a click and he pushed the doors apart.
Loki tapped his shoulder. “Good work. Now go rescue Paniha. I won’t be long.”
Out in the hallway, two of the warriors took up guard while Miguel, Hone, and the last two men would free the chief’s bride. Loki stepped over the threshold and into Colonel Austin’s office. He was looking for something in particular—an object the colonel wouldn’t keep at home where his wife or housekeeper might stumble across it.
He cast around in the half-light. If I had an unusual murder weapon, where would I hide it?
A thin shaft of moonlight slanted through the window and washed the room in a soft silver glow. It provided enough light for Loki to commence his search. One wall held a bookcase stuffed with numerous volumes. He picked up and discarded a few items. None of the souvenirs or knickknacks on the shelves matched what he sought.
Another wall held a large decorative print of the world with the British Empire marked out in red. It spread like a plague over the planet. Loki peered at the islands making up New Zealand. He half expected to see them circled with a pin announcing MINE. There was no obvious hidey-hole in any of the furniture. Loki walked across the carpet and pulled out the chair behind the large desk. He sat down with his hands flat on the blotter.
The colonel didn’t do much paperwork by the looks of the clear desk. The most dangerous-looking thing here was the paper knife. Holding up the desk on either side were two pedestals. One side contained drawers, and opposite those stood a cabinet. Loki flicked open the drawers and found nothing of interest, apart from papers and a clean handkerchief. Then he turned to the left-hand side and the cabinet.
The door was locked.
But it wouldn’t be for long. Loki slid the blade from his boot and wedged the tip into the crack between the cabinet door and the side, right next to the lock. No point in being subtle now; Austin would know they had visited once he realised his scapegoat was gone. He placed pressure on the hilt of the blade, levering it sideways until the wood cracked and the door swung open.
He snorted in triumph when a soft glint came from within. A flicker of moonlight brushed over something metallic. He reached in and pulled out the object, holding it up for inspection.
It looked like the lovechild of a pitchfork, a clock, and a bear paw. Three razor-sharp talons, each six inches long, jutted from a metallic palm. The palm extended into a sort of metal glove containing gears, knobs, and a tension-loaded spring. Loki pressed a lever on the side and the talons shot forward, fully extended, and then retracted.
“Well, well, well,” he whispered to himself.
One mystery solved. Time to grab the girl, head back to the pa, and commence the naked celebration. Loki headed back across the office floor and around the door, wher
e he ploughed into a cool tip of metal that pressed to his forehead. A soldier stared at him, the rifle barrel biting into Loki’s skin.
“Nice of you to finally join us. I’ll take that.” Austin removed the mechanical claw from Loki’s hands.
How had events gone so wrong in such a short space of time? Another rifle prodded him from behind and Loki took the few strides down the hall to the cells.
Soldiers lined the walls, aiming their rifles at the small group of Maori. Paniha stood to one side, a soldier holding her arm tight and a pistol pressed to her back.
“They were waiting for us,” Miguel said. “It wasn’t Paniha in the cell but a decoy.”
Loki snorted. That wasn’t cricket. British soldiers were supposed to play by the rules and wait until morning, not lay ambushes. Traps were a sneaky pirate tactic and one favoured by the Maori. Stealth and surprise were their advantage, but not in this case. He should have known a murderer would cheat.
“Austin killed them. Three innocent men, just so he could start a war.” Loki gestured to the sharp talons now held by the colonel. “What’s your plan now, Colonel? Kill us all and put it about that the Maori attacked the settlement?” Loki needed to get him talking. All they needed was a momentary distraction to wrest back control.
The colonel handed the claw off to one of his men and took a rifle in exchange. “Yes. I have the dispatches drawn up already. A terrible attack by the savages, caught red-handed with the murder weapon and sneaking into our barracks to slaughter good English lads. The other troops in New Zealand will rally to my banner. I will take control of an augmented British force which will drive back the Maori and return this country to England’s embrace. My family name will be restored to glory, no longer tarnished by my father’s defeat here thirty years ago.”
“You won’t be waiting for your Gatling guns, then?” Just as well Loki had never relayed the request to Nate back in England. Not that he’d had any intention of giving the man more weapons.
“I will acquire them. I have opened negotiations with another party. Until then, we have a range of rifles and cannon against their wooden clubs and spears.” His top lip pulled in a sneer.
Loki ignored the soldier pointing a rifle at his chest and kept Austin’s attention on him. He didn’t want the colonel swinging his weapon at Hone. “You know, my old captain used to say ‘never take a knife to a gun fight.’ With one exception.”
“What’s that?” The colonel sighed and made a motion with his hand for Loki to get to his point.
“When you know you’re faster than the other man’s trigger finger.” In one smooth motion, Loki reached up and wrapped one hand around the rifle butt and pushed it to one side. As he shoved the rifle left, he threw a right hook and punched the soldier.
Hone pushed Paniha behind him and lunged for the first soldier in front of him. As Hone went over the top, Miguel went under and kicked out the man’s knees. The Maori warriors roared and lunged, thick arms wrapping around English heads in rugby tackles, and took two men at a time to the ground.
Austin swung the rifle at Hone, in the middle of the melee, and took aim at the mighty warrior’s heart. “I will not be stymied now. It is past time to free this town from savagery.”
“No!” Loki jumped forward just as the colonel fired.
Being shot didn’t hurt at first. Heat bloomed over Loki’s chest and it seemed the pain took its own sweet time to arrive. Then a sharp lance speared him, as though someone took a red-hot poker and thrust it into his flesh. The impact threw him backward, against Hone. The chief caught him and lowered Loki to the ground.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Kahu,” Hone said as one large hand went over the wound and pressed to stop the bleeding.
Loki sucked in a breath as flames consumed his torso. “You are more important than I am. Matanui needs you. Paniha needs you. I’ve finally done something worthwhile.”
Loki wondered when he had stuck his head under water. The noise around him became muted and dull. His head fell to one side and his gaze rested on Paniha. Miguel jumped on the soldier who held her and the man threw up his hands to ward off the blows from behind him.
Paniha stood with her hand wrapped around the pounamu pendant. A single tear fell down her cheek as she gazed on Loki, and her lips moved as though she sang a silent song. The jade creature glowed in her grasp and then the light burst around the room.
A roar filled Loki’s ears, or was it the pounding of his blood?
The roar turned into a gush that reminded him of the tumble of water over rocks. He was definitely underwater. He screwed up his eyes as Paniha swam in a haze. No, the haze enveloped her, as though she stood under a waterfall. The green luminescence grew and shimmered and then took form.
Behind her, a massive creature made of water rose like a spout of liquid poured in reverse. It flowed upward from the ground and continued until it bent its back to fit its body within the room. A massive head peered over Paniha’s shoulders. It didn’t have whiskers, but long sharp spines jutted from its cheeks. Huge jaws contained a double row of teeth, like a shark’s, and it had a long, sinuous body that reminded Loki of a snake. It held its tail high and away from its mistress.
The taniwha lowered its head and screamed at Austin. When it hollered, the spines of its face stuck out to form a deadly fan. What soldiers were left standing dropped their weapons and ran.
Austin swung his rifle at the beast and prepared to fire. His first shot made a dull click. He pulled back the bolt handle and shook the rifle, then took aim again.
Paniha whispered to the creature and it lunged. The colonel disappeared but remained in place. His form shimmered as the water dragon gulped him into its mouth. His arms clawed but had nothing to hold. While he couldn’t touch the taniwha, it had no trouble chewing on him.
Loki tried to laugh. The rumours were true. The Maori did have a taniwha, a glorious one made of water and called forth by Paniha. Justice was served, and Colonel Austin was the dish of the day.
Then Loki closed his eyes and let go.
22
Loki was reluctant to open his eyes. Given the life he had led, he doubted there would be a bevy of delectable angels standing before him, ready to usher him into nirvana. He expected to see Beelzebub with a sharpened stick telling him he was late for the spit roast. Then he decided to get it over and done with, and opened his eyes. Except he didn’t find himself in the bowels of Hell.
He was in Hone’s hut, lying on the wide mattress. At the end of the bed, sitting cross-legged, was Paniha. Strips of dried flax were draped over her lap as her nimble fingers wove a type of bag called a kete. Turning his head to one side, he saw Hone sitting in the chair by the door. The hanging was rolled up so the chief could keep an eye on both inside and outside.
“Why aren’t I dead?” Loki’s voice croaked and his throat was dry. One hand went to his chest; someone seemed to have left the firebrand in, and it still burned.
Paniha stood and fetched a pottery mug of water from the table. She lifted and cradled his head so he could take a few sips and wet his parched lips. He swallowed and thanked her. Then she moved a few pillows behind him so he could sit up, using the side of the hut as a headboard.
“You would rather be dead than here?” Hone asked, a frown on his face.
“I’m not complaining, just—surprised.” A bullet in the heart usually killed people—or did it prove he didn’t have a heart? That would be a cruel twist of fate.
“Doctor Finley is very good, one of the best in Aotearoa. I poached him from Christchurch. He took the bullet out and said it was lucky you are strong.” Some of the worry left Hone’s face and his wide smile returned. Probably because he now had proof of his doctor’s superior skill. If the Maori gathered at social functions to gossip, that was something Hone could boast about.
Loki had a new appreciation of Hone’s settler interview process at work, since he had secured the best doctor he could find. A useless aristocrat wouldn’t have s
aved his life.
“It also helped that the bullet missed your heart. It was two inches above.” Miguel ducked under the low doorway and entered the hut. “I heard voices and figured you must have finally woken up.”
His first mate waited on the threshold until Hone beckoned him further inside. Miguel walked across the room and then sat on the floor by the mattress. “It would have been rather ironic if you’d finally revealed you had a heart by saving Hone, only to die with a bullet through it.”
Loki tried to laugh but the movement hurt his chest too much. There was another memory tugging at him. A water spout that turned into a mythical creature. “The taniwha. I saw it. It attacked Austin.”
“The creature ate the colonel—rather cleanly too,” Miguel said, and then his gaze went to Paniha.
Paniha’s hand went to the pendant at her throat. The pounamu creature carved in stone was an exact replica of what Loki had seen spring to life. Her eyes were downcast.
“So you do control it.” The stories were true, the Maori did have a taniwha to protect them. He wondered if the baby dragons he had left in Siberia would grow into man-eaters.
She dropped her hand back into her lap. “It is a gift I will never abuse. He is only summoned in times of great need. When not needed he slumbers in the pounamu. I would not let the soldiers harm either you or Hone. Enough men had died at the pakeha’s hand.”
A war had been averted before the mad colonel could get it off the ground. There was no saving his family name now. His father had lost New Zealand for the British over twenty years ago, and Austin had put the last nail in the coffin. “Well, I’m not complaining, and Austin got what he deserved for slaughtering innocent men. A few minutes earlier might have saved some heartache though…”
Miguel groaned at his joke. “To think we missed you. Not sure why we worried so much now.”
“Because you all love me, that’s why.”