Kaimana rushed to the surface and grabbed onto the ropes that were wrapped around the canoe. Holding her breath, straining herself, Kaimana pulled on the cords, trying to use her weight to tumble the canoe upright so she could climb back on board. However, her strength failed her. The hardships of the day and the exhaustion she felt through fear had stolen all strength from her arms.
Her next plan was to pull herself out of the water, to at least perch on top of the canoe’s overturned hull. She sobbed tears of frustration as she hauled herself up, but could not drag herself far enough. Her muscles gave out and she slid back down, being able to do little more than pull her shoulders above the water line.
With the sudden feeling she was being watched, Kaimana turned around to look at the dark waters beneath her.
The shark taniwha was there, within an arm’s distance. If she wanted to, she could reach out and touch its nose. It would be easy now for the creature to finish her, to swallow her as she had seen Rakau do all those weeks ago with the cannibals, but this taniwha was much more cruel than her Rakau. It swam there, inches from her, red eyes gleaming in the dark, taking pleasure in the fear that threatened to overcome her. Kaimana froze, gripping the canoe ropes, holding her breath.
In those moments before her death, Kaimana’s thoughts returned to Rakau, to the closest thing she had in the world to a friend, a friend who now hates her. The shame and anger of how they had parted stoked a fire in Kaimana’s belly, and she directed that hate towards the predator in the water.
She could not hope to defeat this taniwha, but she could make it remember her until the end of its days.
She felt to her belt for the Owl Queen’s needle-thin dagger. Looking at the creature in front of her, arms shaking at the thought of the violence she was plotting, Kaimana slid the blade from her belt.
The taniwha must have realised something was amiss. In the second before Kaimana made her move, she fancied that the confidence in the creature’s eyes faded as it realised she no longer looked afraid.
Kaimana thrust out the dagger and pierced the taniwha’s nose. The water in front of her erupted in a foam of blood and anger. In its pain, the shark thrashed its head. Its nose made contact with Kaimana, ripping her free from the canoe’s ropes, sending her flying through the air. She hit the water with an impact that drove all breath from her lungs. The creature was clearly enraged by her attack, and the water below her churned with the massive creature’s throes. Thankfully, the taniwha did not appear to be able to properly focus on Kaimana, but she could not tell if this was due to the injury that she had caused it or just how angry it was. Flashes of white below her told Kaimana the shark was gnashing with its teeth, blindly, and it would only be seconds before its jaws found her.
At least I’ve marked it before it got me, she thought, a grim grin on her face. One last note to play before the end of my tale. Her spark buzzed proudly in agreement. Despite the imminent end, it did not seem to be preparing to run.
A shout from the darkness alerted her to the fact that she was not alone. This was a human voice, a man’s voice.
“There!”
A whistling in the air warned Kaimana of the spear’s flight seconds before it impacted the water in front of her. The spear did not find its mark, but half a dozen more followed, and the crimson that flowed from the taniwha told Kaimana at least one had hit it.
Shocked, she looked up, squinting to try to make out who else was on these dangerous seas. The moon unveiled a sight that Kaimana was thankful for - canoes. Then her heart sank. These canoes bore the markings of Nakoa. They had found her.
What is going to be the price for this rescue?
She could make out three of the vessels. Although all the sea faring boats of the Atoll were called canoes, these contraptions bore more resemblance to the large home boat Kaimana’s troupe had shared than the small two-person canoe she had spent so much time travelling the Atoll in recently.
Each of the canoes could hold about twenty men, and the glints of bone in the moonlight suggested to Kaimana they were currently loaded with warriors, weapons ready for battle. From what she could see, the canoes were ornately carved, marked in honour of the war god, bearing the images of his tusks and his Kiribati. On the nearest canoe she made out a massive warrior balanced on its bow, a large stone-tipped spear in his hand.
“Before it goes under - loose!”
Another hail of spears pierced the water. Then there was cursing from the boats. The taniwha was gone.
“He will not forget,” Kaimana shouted to them, alerting the men to her presence in the water. “Beware - it will attack again.”
The large man looked at her, shock briefly registering on his face, but then nodded and quickly barked orders to those in his own vessel and across the waves to the other canoes. The sides of the boats became quickly populated with more warriors, spears in hand, all staring into the depths of the Outer Sea below them.
There was silence, and Kaimana braved the sight of the waters below. She did not believe the taniwha would remain focussed on her now that other attackers were present, but she was aware of how vulnerable a position she was in. Not for the first time, she was reminded of the sight of Rakau devouring the small canoe of cannibals in a single bite.
The taniwha’s attack came at the furthest canoe from Kaimana, and was heralded by a number of cries from the warriors. The men on the attacked canoe jumped into the water, dropping their spears but also avoiding the taniwha’s teeth, which instead turned their vessel into splinters. However, the crew of the other boats were ready, and peppered the taniwha’s underbelly with their weapons, many of which found their mark. The taniwha landed with a splash, sending shock waves of seawater out to rock Kaimana. As she struggled to keep her head afloat, she saw the warriors that were now in the water moving towards their enemy, drawing blades from their sheaths. The taniwha roared in pain, both from the spears that now decorated its hide, but also from the number of knives that were cutting into it.
The monster was not interested in attacking the other canoes now. It seemed to realise it was in a fight for its life.
“It will dive,” came another shout from the large man. “One last chance before we lose it.”
A final volley of spears found their marks. Still the taniwha struggled, and dove back under the water with a splash.
Kaimana submerged her head to see the beast disappear into the darkness below. To her shock, the faint shine of moonlight showed her that at least half a dozen of Nakoa’s men remained attached to the beast, continuing to hack at it with their blades as it dragged them under. Knowing the strength of the taniwha and the speed at which it could travel, Kaimana knew that continuing to hold onto their enemy was a death sentence for the warriors. Still, she could only marvel at their bravery, their dedication to remove this deadly enemy from the Atoll.
At this thought, she sniffed. They’re probably more interested in carving their own legends than actually protecting people.
The waters below were silent. Kaimana raised her head again to see that the nearest canoe had moved towards her, the large man on it standing with a hand outstretched. His face was not kind.
Kaimana realised she did not have much choice in what happened next. There was no outrunning Nakoa now.
Kaimana reached out to take the warrior’s hand. He grabbed her roughly by the wrist and pulled her aboard.
“You are the taniwha girl,” he said. It was not a question. “Hohepa will want to see you.”
So, Nakoa isn’t here, then. This Hohepa must be some sort of high priest, leading this portion of the hunt.
Looking about on the canoe, Kaimana saw it was considerably larger than the troupe’s canoe. This vessel actually had a covered hut in the centre of it, which was bizarre for Kaimana to look at, so used was she to sleeping out in the open or with a blanket or tarp covering her when at sea. The warriors were busy fishing their companions out of the water, doing what they could to rescue the survivors of the
destroyed canoe.
Then a great cheer went up. All on the canoe rushed to the port side in time to see a small explosion of water from below and Kaimana found herself being dragged along. The taniwha was back, but it was not moving. Kaimana realised it had been killed, either from the many spears embedded into it, or by the final blows given to it by the warriors it had dragged below. Of these brave, stupid men Kaimana saw no sign, although a number of deep knife cuts could be seen on the taniwha’s body.
“It is gone, now,” the large man who held her wrist said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “Your taniwha is gone.”
Kaimana could not help her mouth opening in shock. They think this is Rakau.
Of course they would, unless they had had a good look at Rakau earlier. What are the odds I’d get close to two great beasts in such a short time?
Hope welled up inside Kaimana. She did not know what her prospects were now she had been caught, but if all of the war party believed their prey had been caught and killed, then Rakau could well live on his island in peace.
“Come,” the warrior grumbled, pulling Kaimana roughly by the wrist, leading her to the hut in the centre of the canoe. Others on the boat had spotted Kaimana by now and were laughing or leering at her. A sudden chill ran down her spine.
She was pulled roughly inside the hut and thrown to the floor. The interior was filled with incense and candlelight, which felt alien to Kaimana’s senses after being so long at sea. The wooden floor was unadorned, but much of the rest of the cabin was decorated in fine cloths with intricate designs, many of which were based on the symbols of Nakoa’s worshippers - a pig’s head, a Kiribati sword, a whale shark.
Other uninteresting furniture littered the walls of the room - a desk, some basic chairs - but Kaimana’s attention was immediately drawn to the bed in the centre of the room. It was occupied.
Kaimana’s panic at the implications of being brought towards an occupied bed quickly subsided when she realised the other person in the room was female. She was also fully dressed in fine, dark cloths, with a black veil pulled across her face, reclining on top of the bed, propped up on the copious cushions that also lay there.
“So, the pupil returns to her kahuna.”
Kaimana paused only briefly. “Eloni?”
Eloni - for it was indeed her - sat up and detached the veil from the side of her face. Kaimana’s blood chilled at the look that her former teacher gave her. Eloni was smiling, and it was not a kind smile.
“I had hoped I’d be seeing you again soon. As you can see, my position has changed somewhat since you left me.”
It hasn’t been that long since I left the troupe. What’s she doing in this get up?
“You’re here with the warriors, with Hohepa?”
A brief wrinkle disturbed Eloni’s smug grin, which told Kaimana she had guessed correctly, denying her former kahuna the privilege of relaying her tale.
“Yes,” the older woman answered, “the High Priest has taken me to his bed. You caused quite a commotion when you disturbed his taniwha hunt, and after you left so suddenly, the warriors found themselves under considerable strain. Even a great man like Hohepa needs to turn to someone to comfort him when times are hard.”
“And you were there to play that part…” Kaimana finished.
“Oh, he had noticed me already. As soon as I made it clear I would accept him, he made me his.”
Kaimana turned her lip up at this, despite herself. Made me his.
“Now I’ve a tale to rival anything I’ve heard our troupe play before. Those smaller passions that I wove into my songs are nothing compared to the love of a man whose very step shakes the Atoll ring. You should hear it, young pupil, the song I am preparing now. It will make my name when it is done, and all shall beg me to play it for them. It will be a song for the ages.”
“I’m sorry, let me get this straight. You think that jumping into bed with someone again will make you spark again? Eloni, I don’t need to hear the tune, I’ve heard it already. You’ve played it for me time and time again, when it was about all your other conquests. It doesn’t matter who they are, how powerful your lover is. Your songs are about a woman being used and cast aside. You’ve got no story here, still no spark, save for the one you’ve invented in your head. Just like the last times. Eloni, your song will be forgotten just as easily as Hohepa will forget you when he is done with you.”
Eloni sat up straight, her eyes cold.
I’ve touched a nerve. That was probably a very bad idea, given my predicament, but I couldn’t help myself. She doesn’t understand. She needs a teacher.
“What about you, little ocarina player, what of your spark? All of this trouble, defying the gods, fleeing with a monster - has it given you what you wanted?”
Kaimana lowered her eyes. What a question. Has it given me what I wanted, this adventure? When I first left with Rakau, I wanted a story, I wanted my spark to reignite. I wanted a song that would make my name, buy me more prestige in my own troupe, or possibly make other, more prestigious troupes, interested in me.
And I found it. I’ve seen sights I thought I never would, and I’ve done things… I’m lucky to be alive, after everything I’ve done. Do I have a song worth playing, now? I know I do, a god told me so.
But…
“No,” Kaimana said, finally. “No, I do not have what I want.”
She lowered her face to the deck of the boat, allowing images of Rakau - of the moonlit sea bed and of curling up on an abandoned island around a small fire together - to dance through her mind.
“I didn’t think so,” was Eloni’s smug reply.
At that moment, Nakoa’s high priest entered. The proud man glanced at Eloni briefly, and Kaimana fancied she could see a look of annoyance cross his face. Then he turned to address Kaimana directly.
“That beast is not the taniwha from my master’s island.”
Kaimana’s heart sank. She knew she should try to hide her emotions, that it would be best for Rakau if she try to cover for him, but she could not do so. Her face showed her despair.
The priest nodded, not requiring Kaimana to speak her answer. “So where is it then, your rakau tipua? Where is the beast that has besmirched Lord Nakoa’s honour?”
“He’s gone,” Kaimana said, not giving up any more information.
The priest walked across the room and hit her across the face, sending her to the floor. Blood spilt from a burst lip. Eloni’s grin grew a little wider.
“You have been on the Outer Sea. Is he somewhere out there? Is he close?”
Kaimana was in shock at the violent act. She had been attacked many times in the past weeks, but now she felt most vulnerable, in front of this woman who hated her and this man who had total command over all of the people on board the canoes.
“He’s gone,” Kaimana repeated, dreading the response.
She was right to do so. The high priest kicked her in the stomach, winding her.
“I’m enjoying this, my love. This girl has done much to earn my anger over the years. If she is to be killed, may I be the one to do so?”
Eloni had draped her arm over her lover now, allowing her fingers to play across his bare chest. The high priest grabbed her hand by the wrist and pulled it off him.
“No, you may not. To kill is a warrior’s art, and you are no warrior. That pleasure is for us alone.” He stopped for a moment to think, and allowed a thin smile to grace his face. “Warriors and taniwha. We are the killers, we are the ones who take lives on the Atoll. This is not an act for little girls.”
Eloni’s face soured at the insult, but she said nothing.
Kaimana remained gasping on the floor, having finally found her breath again. She felt so hopeless, unable to stand up to the man’s strength, despite her urge to do so.
The priest knelt beside her, grabbed her hair and raised her head to look him in the face.
“My lord is not happy. This quest takes too long, and he is eager for vengeance. You under
stand I will do anything it takes to get the information I need from you, do you not?”
Kaimana looked the man in the eye and nodded, silently. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing any hint of the fear that crawled in her belly at this moment.
“Good. Well then, I ask you one last time. Where is your taniwha?”
Kaimana opened her mouth to speak.
“My lord, we have it!” The speaker was another of Nakoa’s warriors, bursting into the hut with his news.
The high priest dropped Kaimana’s head to the deck with a thunk. “What do you speak of?”
“The taniwha, my lord, the one from the island. The other hunting party came across it in the water. We have it.”
No.
Panic rising in her, Kaimana rushed to her feet, barrelling past the high priest, Eloni and the messenger in her attempt to get outside of the hut to see what they were talking about. The other occupants of the structure were so intent on their own conversation that they paid her little heed.
On making it outside, Kaimana saw the sun was rising over the Atoll, painting the black waters of the Outer Sea a deep red. There, within a spear’s throw of the high priest’s canoe were three new boats.
Bile rose in Kaimana’s stomach when she realised what was being dragged behind the boats. Under countless strands of rope and netting - great cords binding its limbs, being dragged through the water by all three of the canoes at the same time - was a taniwha. Its mossy, scarred hide was unmistakable. It was Rakau.
Cheering rose from the two remaining canoes of the priest’s hunting party. These cheers were mirrored by the sobs of despair Kaimana gave at the sight of her friend.
Is he dead? How did they catch him?
Rakau rolled in the water, struggling but clearly weak, unable to break any of the bonds that held him. Tiny streams of green blood leaked into the waters behind him, leaving a clear trail to show his passage. Rakau’s head lolled to one side and he made eye contact with Kaimana. His eyes appeared to brighten slightly, but he was capable of no other movement.
The Yarnsworld Collection: A fantasy boxset Page 42