Sister of the Sun

by Coleman, Clare;

  She scowled. No Pu-tahi had ever made an overture to her people. "And if I accept these gifts, I must agree to their chief's visit."

  The warrior raised his eyebrows in assent. Recovered now from his run, he stood up and brushed sand from his knees.

  Tepua took a deep breath. Her fingers were trembling and she wished she had some way to steady them. The men stared at her, waiting for orders.

  Paruru was gone, but she knew what his opinion would be. She had no time to gather other advisers, no time to discuss the question in the usual leisurely manner. A decision was needed quickly. The Pu-tahi vessel must be sent off, or allowed to land.

  "Wait here, and I will give an answer," she said, and then went alone to sit inside her house. She remembered what the elders had told her when she doubted her ability to assume the high office. The sacred power will enter you and you will become wise. Yet the wisdom did not always come when she needed it. Her hospitality to the sailors had already caused harm to her people. A mistake now could be far more serious.

  For a few moments she sat quietly in the comforting shade of her house. It would be easy to send the Pu-tahi away. But nothing like this had ever happened before. She began to nourish a hope that the offer of friendship was sincere. If she could only have a sign...

  She reached for the loop of cord that hung on a peg behind her mat. The last time she had looked at string figures they had shown her nothing. If the gods meant her to rule wisely, they would have to help her now.

  She uttered her prayer and began to make the first figure. As she brought her hands together and apart, picking up strings or letting them fall, she soon made the shape of a double-hulled canoe. She wondered if this was the canoe of the Pu-tahi chief. Staring into the strings, she recalled occasions when the figures had sparked a vision, bringing images of another place or time.

  But the pattern before her was only an interweaving of cord. She could not see what lay hidden aboard the vessel, or what sort of men rode it. Disappointed, she let the string slip from her hands.

  It was better if she did not try to choose a specific figure, but let her fingers weave in and out until a shape emerged. She closed her eyes, working by feel. When she opened them, a simple pattern had formed in the crossing strings, so simple that she thought at first she had made nothing. Then she saw the young coconut frond, a symbol of peace between enemies or strangers.

  This time the vision grew vivid. Instead of strings, she saw pale green leaflets, and blue-black tattoos on the hand that held the frond. This was a Pu-tahi vessel, she realized, and the man who lifted the frond was the chief of their tribe. But was his offer a cover for deceit?

  She studied the canoe, wishing she could see what lay within its thatched cabin. Gifts? Hidden weapons? She groaned in frustration, but found no answer.

  Then the vision shifted and she was looking at the scene from far above. She recognized the shore, that of her own lagoon. Where were her people? The lone Pu-tahi vessel was surrounded not by Tepua's war canoes but by a host of sharks.

  The water was so clear that she could see the tail fins waving smoothing. As she watched the graceful movements she realized that these sharks were the kind that protected her—great blues. She thought they would attack her longtime enemies. Instead, they led the Pu-tahi canoe toward her beach, then moved aside while the visitors landed.

  Spirits of my ancestors...leading the Pu-tahi ashore!

  When the vision ended, Tepua rested for a moment, trying to grasp what she had seen. Then she emerged, feeling disoriented as she looked at the crowd that had gathered about her house. Warriors edged in on all sides; she faced them uneasily.

  "The Pu-tahi remain outside the reef, ariki," said Sea-snake, who had been left in charge of the warriors. "Their paddlers are fighting the current."

  "I will not let them land," said Tepua firmly. The men turned to each other with expressions of relief. "Launch a canoe," she added. "Take some drinking nuts out to them for their journey."

  "You are generous, ariki," said Sea-snake. "We will toss those eels the drinking nuts and send them on their way." He turned to shout an order.

  "There is more," said Tepua. "Tell the Pu-tahi that I will accept nothing from them now. When their chief comes to me, let him present the gifts with his own hands. Then I will see how sincere his offer is."

  The warriors seemed stunned by her answer. The captain opened his mouth to protest, but fell silent under Tepua's glare. "Tell their chief to come after the moon is new, no sooner," she added sharply. "Go now. Before the Pu-tahi boatmen grow impatient and try to paddle into our lagoon!"

  For several days no one spoke of anything but the impending Pu-tahi visit. As the news reached other clans, chief's and elders came to confer with Tepua. One day, her brother appeared in her yard.

  "Umia!" She embraced him eagerly. "Are you also here to discuss the Pu-tahi?"

  "Yes, Tepua," he answered in a somber voice. "And for another reason."

  "Then you know about your uncle's scheming."

  "I only know that he is hiding something. A ceremony was held at the marae. Nika and Paruru went there, but everyone else had to keep away."

  "I will explain. But first, tell me if the priest is satisfied with the outcome."

  "Raha and my uncle both seem cheerful. Nika and Paruru also seem relieved...about something."

  "Good," said Tepua. "Let us walk, and I will clear up a few mysteries." As they followed the beach she told him about the turtle incident and Cone-shell's attempt to use it against her.

  "My uncle was right about one thing," Umia said sadly when she was done. "He warned mat these foreigners would upset our ways, and they have. But to my thinking, Cone-shell's offense is worse man Nika's."

  "Explain."

  Umia's brow wrinkled as he stopped to prod a piece of coral with his toes. "Tepua, my uncle put us all at risk. When he learned the truth about the turtle, he should have sent his priests at once to beg the gods' forgiveness. What disaster might have struck us?" He raised his eyes, gazing sharply into hers.

  Tepua drew in her breath. "Now you see clearly, my brother. Cone-shell put his ambitions ahead of the best interests of his people."

  "Yes." Umia clenched his fist. "I have seen him do such things before, but I said nothing. Even after what he did to you, I stayed at his side. Ah, Tepua, I have let him bully me too long."

  "There is something you can do." She paused, waiting, hoping.

  His eyebrows rose. "Twice you asked me to leave my uncle, and twice I turned you down. You need not ask again, Tepua. I am here. This time, I am staying."

  Tears streamed down her face as she embraced him, pressing her nose against the firmness of his cheek. "Ah, brother, you have come just when I need your help."

  When Paruru returned with Nika, he wanted to know more about the Pu-tahi visit. He asked question after question of the men who had gone out to deliver the provisions—how many warriors, how had they been armed, what else did they carry. He could not accept the answer that no weapons had been seen at all.

  Time and again his thoughts returned to his first encounter with the man-eaters. He was a young warrior then and new to the ranks. One moonless night, standing guard along the shore, he heard a blow and a groan. Then the cries of warning sounded, far too late. In the dim light it was nearly impossible to tell raider from friend. Paruru bashed in one Pu-tahi skull and wounded another man severely. Other defenders came, and soon the beach was wet with blood.

  Paruru trembled with rage as he remembered the companions he had lost that night. Where had Tepua been? A child, safe with her guards, far from danger. Throughout her life she had been spared Pu-tahi terror. That was why she did not understand the raiders. That was why she had agreed to hear their lies.

  Despite his lingering feeling of disgrace, Paruru went to speak with his chief.

  "I am glad that all has gone well," she said coolly when she saw that he was back.

  "Ariki, I beg you to listen. My problem
with Nika is small compared with what is coming."

  She offered him a seat in her shaded yard. "I understand your fears," she replied. "My family has suffered the raids as much as any other. But we have something new here. No Pu-tahi chief has ever asked for a meeting of peace."

  "It is a ruse. So they can slip their warriors into our lagoon."

  "Mine was no light decision, Paruru. It is true that I sent my answer in haste, but afterward I spoke with the priests. They tell me that the omens are good."

  And priests are sometimes blind! "You are determined to let the man-eaters through the pass?"

  Tepua stared at him in that stubborn way he had often seen, her back straight, her chin high.

  "Then, ariki, I am obliged to prepare for the worst. I must make plans to defend my people. Otherwise—"

  "Otherwise, you will ask again to be relieved of your duties." Her mouth twitched, and he thought for a moment that she might free him. What would he do then? he wondered. Would he dare to join the voices that opposed her? Would he even take up arms to force her out?

  "Prepare your plans, kaito-nui. I will not stop you from performing your duty. I ask only this. There must be no open show of distrust. Keep your weapons out of sight."

  "As you wish, ariki. My men will stand ready, but we will be discreet about it." When she dismissed him, he felt only a slight lifting of his burden. Whatever defense he mounted, he knew that many of his warriors would die. There was only one way to avert the disaster that the raiders would bring. He needed Nika's help....

  Paruru turned first to settling his adopted brother into a new way of life. The sailor was no longer a guest. Now he would stay with Paruru in a house of warriors, eating food the men gathered and prepared for themselves.

  Paruru was not certain that Nika would fit in, but he had seen encouraging signs. Nika had finally given up his foreign garb. He bathed at reasonable intervals and often remembered to follow the little rituals mat the gods required. Paruru knew now that he could never make an islander of this man, but he was willing to accept Nika's faults.

  For the first two days of his return, Paruru asked nothing of the sailor, allowing him to enjoy Maukiri's company. But at last he could wait no longer. He had done much for his brother and it was time that Nika did something in return.

  The next morning, Paruru led Nika to a place that few people knew about. It was the shelter where he had lived in isolation after diving for the thunder-club. "Sit," said Paruru. He had prepared the shelter, bringing fresh mats and coconuts. Now he opened a viavia and handed it to Nika. "Sometimes it is good to be alone," said the warrior. "I often come here."

  Seated cross-legged beneath the low roof, Nika gazed at him expectantly, but Paruru was not yet ready to explain the purpose of the meeting. "You understand our ways now," said the warrior. "When brother asks help of brother, he does not refuse."

  "Yes?" the sailor seemed hesitant.

  "I want to show you something. It is a secret that I have had for some time. I share it with you, but no one else must know." The warrior turned to his side and reached for a long bundle covered in matting. Holding it on his knees, he carefully opened it, revealing the club that had belched smoke and thunder, before falling into the lagoon.

  Nika gasped in surprise. "Where did you get this?" he asked, his eyes both eager and wary. "Does the ariki know?"

  "Tepua thinks it lost. She asked me to send divers, but they could not find it." He watched Nika's eyebrows rise. "This is not something a woman can appreciate," said Paruru. "She does not concern herself with battle, as we men do. She does not grasp how this can protect us from our enemies."

  "Protect us?" Nika said scornfully. He was leaning over the weapon and making sounds of disgust. "Look!" he said, running his fingers over a red scaly crust that marred the small parts of the thing. He tugged at the piece that resembled a bird's head, and when it did not move, he made more ugly sounds. "Why show me this? The thing is useless now."

  "The weapon is harmed?" Paruru did not remember seeing the crusts when he first brought the thunder-maker out of the lagoon. Had they somehow grown there? He glanced at the long tube, shaped like a hollow bamboo that flared slightly at the open end. This tube had been smooth and gray; now it bore an ugly coat of reddish brown.

  "Seawater!" Nika said, uttering the word as if it were a curse. Once more he tried to pull back the bird's head, then gave up in disgust. He threw the weapon to the ground.

  "Sick?" asked Paruru. Was it possible, he wondered, that a bath had stolen the thing's power? Or had some spirit intervened? He remembered the force that had tried to keep him from reaching the bottom of the lagoon.

  "Sick, yes. Very sick." Nika turned aside, drained his coconut, and tossed the shell carelessly into the brush.

  "You can heal it," said Paruru. He recalled hearing Nika talk of his father, a craftsman who built weapons like this one. Nika had disliked the work, yet surely he had learned something of his father's art.

  "Too late," said the sailor.

  "It must be healed. Call on your gods!"

  With a grimace of disgust, Nika picked up the weapon again. He tilted it, open end down, allowing a few grains of sand to fall out. Then he swung the end around and peered inside. "Bad!" he said, then began muttering in his own language as he turned his attention back to the middle of the weapon, to the toothlike piece and the parts above it. His fingernail scraped at scaly patches in the bowl beneath the beak. "With proper tools," he admitted, "maybe this can be fixed."

  "We have many tools."

  "Made of coral!" Nika shook his head.

  Paruru studied the expression on Nika's face. Over the years he had learned to read the hidden thoughts of men, and now he clung to a shred of hope. "Nika, I have seen you working with wood. You have skills in your hands, and you are clever. You find new ways to do things."

  Nika's eyes remained on the ground. "I could spend much time with this and still fail. I prefer to be doing something else."

  Paruru thought of Maukiri and understood. "You need not go back to Piho Clan," he offered. "Not for many days." Still he saw no softening of Nika's attitude. The man wanted something else, Paruru thought, and was not willing to ask for it.

  "Then I must get rid of this thing," the warrior said, reaching for the weapon. "Throw it into the lagoon again where no one can find it. It has caused me enough trouble...."

  "Wait!" said Nika, putting a hand on the thunder-maker. He gave Paruru a curious stare. "My goods from the boat. I have been too long without them. Some are harmless, yet your priests do not give them back."

  "Yes, my brother. I understand." With a feeling of relief, Paruru paused to drink from his own coconut. At last Nika was hinting at his true desires, and there might be a way to satisfy them. "Tepua asked me to make new arrangements with the priests," the warrior said. "It is possible that I can recover a small part of your goods. Perhaps your tools—"

  "The tools there are no help. I can use the knife you already have."

  "Then what is it you want?"

  "This is not easy to explain," said Nika. "It is for me, not the weapon. So that I can enjoy myself while I work." He described an object that had made little impression on Paruru while he was inspecting the goods. It was a carved tube that was held in the mouth, and its purpose eluded the warrior. Nika made sucking sounds, inhaling noisily through his lips, then breathing out in a similar way. "Smoke," Nika said, fanning his fingers through the exhaled breath.

  "Smoke from a man's mouth?" Paruru stared wide-eyed, thinking that Nika was about to reveal a weapon even more terrifying than the one that lay before them. "And thunder also?"

  Nika laughed. "No noise, only smoke. It tastes good and does no harm. Bring it to me and try it for yourself." He also described a pouch that held fragrant, crumbled leaves.

  Paruru sat staring at Nika as he tried to make sense of what he had heard. He had expected to be asked for the black sand or the round stones, or for some other thing connected with
the weapon. "Is there nothing else you need from the stores?"

  "Not now," answered Nika quickly. "I want only the 'pipa' and 'tapako.'"

  "I will ask a priest who is my friend. Together we will speak with Faka-ora. He is a reasonable man."

  "Good," said Nika.

  "And now," said Paruru, "tell me what you need to heal this weapon."

  A day later the two men met again beneath the isolated shelter. At Nika's request, Paruru had built a small fire outside. Now Nika sat beside the basket of articles that Paruru had brought and prepared his long, wooden "pipa."

  Obtaining this "pipa" had not proved easy. Paruru had tried to explain to the priests that the thing was harmless, but Faka-ora remained doubtful. Fortunately for Paruru, the tahunga who had healed the foreigners was present during this discussion. The tahunga recalled seeing the "pipa" in use, and confessed that he had tried it himself. "It helps the men relax,'' said the old healer. "Keeps them out of trouble. I see no harm in it." At last, Faka-ora agreed to Paruru's request.

  And so Paruru now watched curiously as Nika tamped some of his crumbled "tapako" leaf into the open end of the "pipa," then leaned out toward the fire. He sucked a draft of air through the tube, and suddenly the "tapako" was alight. With a huge smile of contentment, Nika puffed, releasing small clouds of fragrant smoke into the air.

  "You try," said Nika after a short while. "Take the smoke into your mouth, not your throat."

  Paruru recalled the healer's words. The old man had suffered no ill from this. But of course the tahunga was protected by benevolent spirits....

  "Afraid?" asked Nika.

  Paruru did not answer, but took the end of the "pipa" between his lips. He drew in a breath and felt the smoke swirl within his mouth. It was acrid and parching, stinging the back of his throat. Pulling the mouthpiece away, he bent over in spasms of coughing. He felt Nika snatch the smoking thing from his hands.

  "Not so much!" cried Nika.

  Paruru eyed the "pipa" coldly. He felt no great enthusiasm for a second try. Nika, watching him, began to smile. "I ate raw clams for you," he said jovially. "Now you try my 'pipa.'"