On the Wings of Birds

BEFORE

I believe it is all her fault, my ambitious, grandmother’s fault. With some regret, I blame her. I remember the first time I saw her. Still youthful; and still beautiful. And frivolous, flippant, and flirtatious. Even as a small child I thought so; yet I wanted her to be proud of me none-the-less – and although the life she had planned for me was extremely different to what I had dreamed of at the time, she made me believe I was just like her, courageous and confident, rather than the quiet, shy girl I really was. She made the quiet, gentle ways of my sweet mother seem somehow weak and feeble. She had an infectious laugh and exciting way about her that contagiously swept everyone away with her enthusiasm until too late, we’re all doing what she wants, living the life she has in mind for us – even my conquering father, my sweet mother, and my lovely sisters – such power, such control – even with the great sea between us - yet – if we all had a second chance at it, we’d all do it exactly the same, all over again – simply because – she was right…………..(mused Whiu Hinehoe A’Tane - called Hinewai)

“Hinewai, our grandmother has arrived,” Reina came running excitedly into the nursery, “she’s here, and she’s asking to see you…”

Hinewai had been painting; her favorite pastime, and she hated being interrupted while focusing on getting the strokes and shades just right. She did not even look up at her sister. “Me?”

Even though Hinewai was the older sister, Reina always acted like she was in charge, and although that irked Hinewai at times, she’d usually let Reina lead, contented not to have to take responsibility for making any decisions.

“Aren’t you excited?” Reina continued, “She’s the greatest warrior of all times. And she’s come here to meet us,” she sighed, “at last…”

“Our father’s the greatest warrior of all…”

“But…she’s a woman, Hinewai, not a male warrior, a…a female. Just like us...”

“Us?” Hinewai laughs unkindly. “We’re little girls...”

“But we can be warriors too, one day, just like her...”

Hinewai looked up from her work. “Reina,” the shortened name from Areina that Hinewai and most used for the girl,” you don’t even like to kill ants. Or spiders. Or anything. Do you really want to be a…warrior?”

Reina hesitated. Hinewai smiled as Reina realized they had only seen the brave fighters returning home, the crowds in the streets cheering their heroes, the all-night celebrations, the grandness of wars. Now, Reina was contemplating the horrors - and the possibility of hurting a human being in battle. The possibility of getting injured herself, maybe even killed…

“So,” Hinewai taunted her sister, “what’s so good about being a warrior anyway?”

“It’s…” Reina started uncertainly, as if trying to find the right words, “it’s what we do...”

It was Hinewai’s turn to search for an appropriate answer when realization hit. Reina was right. It was what they did. Their father had told them several times that they were a fighting people, from a long line of brave warriors. That their lifestyle, their home, their possessions, their place in society, their very existence, was all owed to their abilities and skills as fighters. “But…they’re all men; there are no women in our army. Not here, anyway…”

“No, not here, but back home…” Reina stopped in mid-sentence, as if pondering what to say next.

“That’s different, Reina…” Hinewai hoped, “this, is our home now and anyway, we have never been there, never even seen it, and probably never will.” She had heard the adults talking about how well they lived now, in the new land, compared to their people in the old land. In the old land, they often ‘went without’, did not need or want beautiful things, they believed that belongings were an encumbrance that hindered their freedom. A people that can just ‘up and go’ at will, crossing the vast ocean, without having to pack much, give anything away, or leave behind. A people that was happy just to ‘be alive’. She looked wistfully at her surroundings. At the hardened smooth split level floors and Moki mats, bamboo studded and reeded walls, the stripped and softened Muka leaf screens and Aute coverings that billowed gracefully in the gentle Kawhai flower scented breezes that wafted in through the windows and doorways that led to the sheltered terraces and gardens outside. At five years old, Hinewai had never seen anything but her home, her village, to compare - yet somehow, she knew they lived well, her family lived grandly – she loved her home, her life, and she could not imagine, nor did she wish, for any other, for a life without…lovely possessions...

Reina interrupted her thoughts. “Don’t you want to be a warrior?”

“No!” Hinewai didn’t mean to answer so abruptly. Even though she, as young as she was, knew she sounded rude and condescending; still, she was repulsed at the thought, and could not hide it. “They’re dirty! They smell! They train for hours on end, getting all…” she screwed up her nose, “…sweaty.”

“Yet…you run faster than the boys, all of them, even the older ones, the ones that are now ready to join the army.”

Boys that were ready to join the Hokowhitu warrior training were only two years older than Hinewai still; she smiled proudly, “I only do that because the boys say they’re better than us girls…”

“But you beat them at our other lessons, too.”

Hinewai laughed. “Same reason...”

“Then…what do you want to do?”

Hinewai looked at her design on a piece of Aute cloth. It was the beginning of a hawk and all she had done so far were the outlines. “Paint, of course…or write…we’re going to start learning that too, soon…Tutaki says we’re clever enough to learn how to make signals, now…no, he called them signs. Or was it symbols, which are like signals. Draw real meanings, real messages…important notes, for future people to know how we lived…”

This time Reina screwed up her nose. “Notes?”

And it was Hinewai’s turn to look surprised. She thought it obvious. “So others will know who we are, where we came from, what we believe in, and what we do…don’t you want to know how to read and write signs?”

Reina shrugged. “I’d rather run with the boys all day outside, you enjoy that too, Hinewai...”

“Not all day.” Hinewai shook her head. “No, I need to exercise my mind as well.”

Reina laughed. “Exercise your mind? You spend too much time with Tutaki the Tohunga teacher. You’re starting to sound like him. Besides…we exercise our minds when playing with the boys, always wondering how to beat them.”

Hinewai sighed. “At silly boy’s games…”

“But so much more fun, than…” Reina looked at Hinewai’s drawing, “sitting indoors making shapes and signs…so much more fun.”

“But boys are…” Hinewai was going to say silly, but knew they’d get into a stupid argument, Reina was always with the boys, Hinewai suspected Reina secretly wished she was one, so said, “competitive,” instead. Hinewai never liked arguing, especially when painting, she always did her best artwork when calm and relaxed.

“My…that’s a big word…”

“Do you know what it means?”

“Of course. Do you know how to sign it?”

Hinewai made some marks below the hawk on her cloth.

They could have been a healer’s medicine list for all Reina knew, still, she was impressed. “Wow. I guess you should be a writer.”

“And I guess you should be a warrior, with the boys…”

Then Reina’s brows arched, the way they do when she knows something Hinewai doesn’t. “Maybe we will be neither. I overheard grandmother tell father it’s time for us to start learning the ways of the Tipu Aki…”

“Tipu Aki?”

“Yes, she told him that we need to know of both lands, not just this one…”

“Both?”

“That we must not forget about the old land…”

“The old land?”

Reina nodded excitedly. “Do you know anything about the old land?”

“Not really,” Hinewai wondered if Reina did, “do you?”

“Only that - that’s where dad comes from…”

Hinewai smiled. “Maybe we’ll be taught the Tu temple dances of the old land…”

The female priestess fertility ritualistic drum dancing of the old land is no longer popular here in the new land of predominantly male priests, but the exercise has not yet been forbidden either, as the current leader, is also from the old land. No-one remembers the ritual’s true origins – some believe it was just an excuse to have an orgy under the full moon, most believed it was to appease the Gods, but it is generally agreed it represents the health and well-being of new-born babies, to be blessed with the cunning, speed and suppleness required to successfully hunt for food, and also defend themselves and their people – after all, the hawk deity Tu, is a predatory hunter. Well-being also meant the priestesses were skilled in the healing of the body, mind, and soul. Music and dancing played a large part in their worship and well-being rituals. Because music can be as soothing as prayer and yet as intoxicating as a drug – perhaps the best form of healing, of all. Hinewai had seen the priestesses dance at night, under the full moon, from her bedroom window. Up in the vine covered pillars of the Temple on the hill, but they were too far away for the girl to see much through the Pohutukawa trees, except the odd twirl of stripped Aute skirt, or long hair flowing loosely to the lilting beats of the pipes and drums which would waft down on the gentle night air - Hinewai was too young to know that they did that to entice young men to join them – she loved those nights, when the moon was luminously bright, she would sit in her window and watch in awe as long as she could until finally, she’d give in to the magical call of the beats herself and twirl around her own room imagining she, too, was a temple dancer - and when she had tired herself out, she would let herself fall onto her Moenga sleeping mat and happily drift off to sleep enveloped by the mystical sounds from the spiritual temple above…

“But…” Hinewai thought out loud, “I thought only special girls became temple dancers, beautiful girls.”

“We’re special, we must be, everyone treats our father as though he’s special, so we must be too. And dad says we’re beautiful…”

“But he’s our father, he’s supposed to say we’re beautiful.” Still, Hinewai smiled, for a moment, thinking of the admiring glances they received from the boys. Then she lowered her voice and glanced around to make sure no-one else was within hearing. All other children and servants were at the other end of the large community children’s nursery Whare house. Everyone knew Hinewai preferred to be alone when painting. “Well…we’re not…you know, we’re not really…” she was about to point to the others and say, ‘one of them...’

But Reina interrupted her. “From here! But we are! Our father is not from here, but we are.” Then she frowned. “No, I’m not either, am I?”

Hinewai had never considered Reina as anything else but her sister. “Of course, you are. Your mother’s not from our village, but you are. You were born here. So was I. Our father’s from…Taki…Taki…” at that moment, Hinewai realized she had no idea where he was from.

“You don’t know, do you?”

Hinewai gulped. “No…do you?”

“No…”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve heard the adults talk. Children are from…wherever their fathers are from. Mothers, do not matter...”

“Now you sound like a native. Where our father comes from, women do matter. Like our grandmother. Who is asking to see you. Not us, just you. Because…” Reina choked, “because she doesn’t like my mother.”

“Reina, you have to stop listening to servant’s gossip...”

“Your mother’s a Manaian. A high-class lady, and one of…” her eyes rolled towards the others at the end of the room, “…mine’s not.”

Hinewai gulped. She had no idea Reina had ever felt inferior. In fact, Hinewai had always envied the close relationship Reina had with her mother, while Hinewai hardly knew hers.

“No, your mother’s not from here,” Hinewai started cautiously as she studied the face that was so like her own, yet different, broader. “Where is she from?”

Reina shrugged. “I don’t know. I think dad is from the north, and she’s from the...aaaa…”

“Well…you know more than I do…”

“If you spent more time with your mother, you might know a lot more too…”

She was right. Hinewai avoided her mother. And her mother had little time for Hinewai. Hinewai knew her mother loved her, sometimes she’d see a flicker of softness in her mother’s eyes when her mother thought the girl hadn’t noticed, but those glances would change as quickly as they emerged, and increasingly became less frequent with time. It was not like that with Reina and her mother. They were almost always together, whenever Reina was not running amok with the boys, mother and daughter would make the most of every second together, as though it was their last.

“It’s not her fault,” Hinewai whispered to herself, “my mother’s so…delicate...”

“Deli…cat…another big word. What does that mean?”

“It’s like…weak…”

“All the more reason you should spend more time with her, while you can.”

“I didn’t mean…I wasn’t talking about her always being ill. I meant…she’s not…we don’t…”

“Enjoy the same things?”

“Yea…like dad and I, we both like to create pictures, and do puzzles…”

“And dad and I wrestle and hunt together,” Reina interrupted, “but I still have time to be with my mum…”

Hinewai did not reply and to hide her guilt, she returned to her painting. But her heart wasn’t in it anymore, and she swished the reed brush around absent-mindedly.

For a moment, both girls were happy thinking how lucky they were to have a fun and talented father, albeit in different ways when, as if suddenly remembering the reason she was indoors instead of out, Reina blurted out to her sister, “Hinewai, you’re keeping our grandmother waiting!”

“We’ve waited a long time for her to come to meet us...” still, Hinewai pushed aside her painting and sighed. “Where is she?”

“In dad’s receiving room, of course…”

Hinewai started for the door, and then came back for her painting. Reina watched as Hinewai carefully held the sides together so it wouldn’t ruin.

“Aren’t you going to put some clothes on?” Reina asked her.

Hinewai turned to her sister. “Do you think I should?”

“Of course. You can’t go and meet such a famous woman in the nude...”

“What…what should I wear?”

Reina didn’t have to be asked twice. She grabbed her sister’s free hand, and they ran to Hinewai’s room.

Rona was already in there, materials over her arms. She looked annoyed at Reina. “What took you so long?”

Hinewai frowned. As long as she could remember no-one ever rebuked her and although her sister was used to it, she did not like Reina being growled at instead. “It’s not her fault,” Hinewai snapped at the older girl, “I was...busy!”

Rona was a few years older than Hinewai, and like most of her kind, she was proud, and resented having to wait on the clever little half-breed sisters, no matter how great their father, even if she owed her very existence to the foreigners from overseas, and their offspring. She looked at the paper in the child’s hand. “Drawing is not busy! And only qualified scholars, like a Tohunga expert, or some of the Priests, can do art.”

“What’s quali…quali…?”

“Not you, that’s for sure!”

“Our father draws…”

Rona’s pretty face frowned. “Your father can do anything. As long as he protects us, he can do…” Rona hissed at the younger girl, “…anything!”

Hinewai’s eyes widened. The thought had never occurred to her before. “And if he doesn’t protect you? Us?”

Rona leaned toward Hinewai. “Then there wouldn’t be any…us! And our land, our homes, would be overtaken by the blood-thirsty Te Arawa and Tane-Atua warriors!”

Hinewai though, resented being waited on, and grabbed the garment from the older girl. She’d told her father she was quite capable, since the palace nanny was now too busy with other babes in the nursery, but her father believed people of their status had to accept everything that was given to them for their services from the original inhabitants, not only homes and furnishings, but servants also. That it would be rude, even insulting, to reject gifts from the people who employed them, and made them welcome in their land. “Then we have nothing to worry about do we? For he’s the best warrior in the whole wide world and if he’s allowed to draw, then I, his daughter, will do art too!”

Rona’s eyes squinted with rage. “So, we must put up with you. Serve you.” She flicked her head back haughtily. “But…do you know why? Little girl?”

Reina involuntarily stepped back, but Hinewai did not budge, and kept her eyes on Rona. “Because…” started Hinewai sarcastically, “because your people can’t fight?”

“Because we won’t fight. We’re much too fine, to get ourselves all messy. Whereas you, little clever girl who thinks she’s an artist, do you know where your people come from? Do you even know what your people are?”

Hinewai held her head high. “Of course, I know. Everyone knows. My people are brave warriors.”

Reina hated arguments and reaching out, tried to pull her sister away from Rona. “Come, Hinewai, I’ll help you get dressed.”

But the older girl continued, “yes, warriors! And do you know what warriors are?”

For once, the younger girl was speechless, and shrugged her shoulders.

“Savages.” Continued Rona, “primitive savages, who are filthy and dirty, who don’t have an appreciation for the finer things of life, of culture, of…art! So, you see, little one, you can never be a real artist. You and your father might like to draw, but no-one will ever commission dirty fighters to design their picturesque carvings or create their graphic totems,” Rona shook her head, “no-one. Why, that would be like getting the barbaric nomadic Awhia dwellers of the desert to decorate our cultured city...”

Hinewai did not understand all that the older girl had said, yet she answered boldly, “we don’t paint to please anyone, Rona, it pleases us, to paint.”

It was Rona’s turn to be speechless.

“When we’re not fighting,” added Reina, boldly.

“Whatever,” Rona shrugged and turned away from the younger girls as though she had grown tired of taunting them, but she watched out of the corner of her eyes as Hinewai slipped into her dress. Although it irked her to wait on Hinewai, she could not help but both envy and admire the girl. Even at five full seasons of age Hinewai held herself erect, and never backed away when bullied, and Rona took every opportunity to pick on the child. Rona presumed that Hinewai must have inherited those traits from her mother, for her mother was a native, one of them. But…and this irritated Rona even more so, the five-year-old had walked at one, talked at two, and was feeding, washing, and dressing herself at three. At four, she was winning races and other games, and now at five, supposedly excelling at her lessons. And to top it all off, now she’s painting too…and from what Rona could see of the work of art the girl clutched in her hand, Hinewai was as good as, if not better, than any of the adult artists, already. When children of Rona’s supposedly superior race of the same age still seemed like babies, babbling only a few words, and still wore swaddling cloths (it was also known Hinewai and Reina were both out of nappies somewhere between one and two full seasons), and most were still crying for assistance while the independent Hinewai not only dressed herself, but was even at this very moment, combing her own hair. And the younger girl Reina, although not quite so independent, was following her sister’s lead, and often advising her sister as though she were the older of the two. Their father had taken Reina hunting the Moa Bird already, and it is said the little girl showed no fear of the giant creatures, who were twice the size of men, and had made her father proud. And Tutaki even thinks they’re both ready to start learning how to read and write symbolic patterns. Also, according to servant’s gossip, they’ll probably soon be learning the way of the temple priestesses as well. All girls these days were encouraged to learn certain temple rituals, like hospitality and dancing, as a natural part of preparing for marriage, and/or their place in the community, although some hoped to, only a few were accepted into the nursing and perhaps even healing division of temple training - those who exhibited a natural inclination towards rhythm and grace, were allowed to worship in the erotic drum-dance to the full moon fertility rites. And the sisters moved quite elegantlie already, for their young ages.

They were pretty girls also. Hinewai was small though, for her age, she looked lean, like she was the one that ran with the boys all day and although she won her races when she did, she preferred to study with Tutaki, for most of the day. Reina was already the same height as her older sister and although she couldn’t be described as fat, she was big for her age and looked as though she was the one who preferred to sit all day painting instead of running around outside. Both had large almond shaped and slightly prominent eyes, and both had 'pouty', but not too large mouths, both noses had flaring nostrils, yet the noses were not too wide, and both had angular jaws and prominent, yet dainty chins. Both were olive/light brown skinned, although the older was fairer, due to the younger one’s love of the outdoors, and both had lots of hair already albeit the elders was not as thick and not quite as dark as the younger’s.

Rona had to admit Hinewai did look lovely, in her light Pareu gown, gathered at a shoulder, and drawn in at the waist by a cord of plaited vine. Hinewai’s hair glistened from the combing and although the abundance was straight, the ends had a way of curling, and gave the impression of floating around the girl’s shoulders.

“What about jewelry?” Rona reminded Hinewai.

“No.”

“No?”

“It’s bad enough having to wear a dress!”

“Like I said,” Rona admired the shell and bone bracelets on her own arms, “you people have no appreciation of finery. Savages. Do you know what savages are?”

“No,” Reina answered the maid, “what are sav…ages?”

“Don’t worry,” Hinewai said to her sister then turned and smiled at the older girl, “grandmother will know, after all, she’s a savage too, isn’t she Rona? That’ll be the first question I’ll ask her today. I’ll say, Rona says we are savages. What are savages grandmother?”

Rona turned white. “Wait! No need to do that, I can tell you what it means, it means…”

“Well?”

“It means people who prefer to live simply.” Rona tried to smile. “Nothing horrific, I suppose the less you have, the easier it would be for people like yours, who travel all over the great sea…do you understand?”

“Sure…” Hinewai tugged uncomfortably at her dress as she left her room, “things, like this dress, are so uncomfortable, annoying, and just…get in the way...”

Hinewai walked slowly through the anti-chamber towards the larger room, feeling a little apprehensive, now she was alone and about to meet her grandmother, at last. The woman who had sent her son, Hinewai’s father, to the west of this new land, to help the smaller tribe against the larger combined ones of the north-east. The woman who had sent gifts, Rakau wooden and Muka flax-haired dolls, to Hinewai, with messages of ‘coming soon’, to meet her grand-daughter. The courageous warrior woman from the closest islands of the old land, who succeeded at everything she did, and whose example encouraged other females who wished to do more with their lives than make clothing, crafts like basket and jewelry making, and other household floor, wall and bed coverings. Reina waited out on the porch. The sisters had run excitedly all the way, but now, Hinewai was not sure what to do, how to approach such an amazing and important person. Rona looked after her, she should have prepared her for such a meeting. Better still, her mother should have. Her mother should be preparing her for life. But her mother was too weak to care, her father too busy, and Rona too resentful. So, the little girl looked after herself. Spent most of her time with the learned Tutaki, and, like this very moment, let her younger sister guide her.

Reina knew Hinewai did not have a close relationship with her mother, as she had with hers, so took it upon herself to make sure Hinewai was doing what she must, like now, dressed, and ready to meet their father’s mother.

All sorts of thoughts went through Hinewai’s mind as she approached the archway to the next room. What was this woman like? Why did she want to meet Hinewai on her own? Why not both girls? Why weren’t the whole family together? Would the older woman like her? Suddenly, Hinewai felt just like the little girl that she really was. She had heard the remarks before, how tiny and skinny she was, but she had never given such words a second thought. Everyone was different, she was small, and that was that. But would a great warrior be disappointed because her granddaughter was so frail? Fragile looking? Hinewai was glad she had to circle around the main totem (one of the beams that held the roof up, carved into an artist’s impression of the original inhabitant’s forefather Manaia) in the middle of the anti-chamber, pleased her grandmother would not clearly see her approaching because of the huge wooden statue. For some unknown reason, the girl did not want to be scrutinized until she was in front of the woman. Almost at the doorway, Hinewai could make out a raised bamboo seating bench in the other room, against the further wall, with the form of someone lounging on it. It must be her grandmother. There were alternatively burned/blackened patterned reed curtains hanging on either side of the entrance. The one on the right was draped and tied back, but the one on the left was hanging loosely and gratefully, Hinewai made for it and hiding behind it, took a moment to collect her thoughts and decide how and what to do next.

“Come in child,” the voice did not sound as old as Hinewai had expected, “don’t be afraid…”

Hinewai grabbed hold of the curtain in front of her to steady herself. The reeds felt silky and slippery against her skin, and the burned blackened areas felt soft. She had to admit, if she, as Rona had implied, was a primitive savage that had no appreciation of things, well, if she did have to wear clothing, it would have to be – what did Rona say? Fine. She pressed the material to her face, the unburned areas making tinkling sounds as she did so - yes, soft, silky, and tinkling was nice – so nice, so fine. Then taking a deep breath, Hinewai peeked around the curtain she clutched so tightly. She gasped. The woman, legs up and leaning on an elbow, was not what she had expected at all. Everyone else’s grandmothers were old. Everyone knew grandparents were old. Perhaps this was the old warrior’s maid. But no-one else was in the room. And high seating was usually for leaders, not followers. Had her grandmother got tired of waiting and had left again?

“Come in child, let me see my first grandchild...”

Hinewai reluctantly let go of the curtain and took a few steps towards the woman - but now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark indoors, she stopped halfway and laughed.

It was not the reaction the older woman had been expecting. She had dark swirls painted right into her arms, she was elegantly draped across the couch, and only wore some kind of Tapa cloth belt that met below the bellybutton and fell in frayed fringing between the legs, which she now crossed uncertainly. “What’s causing your mirth?”

Hinewai’s brow crossed as she tried to understand her grandmother’s words.

“Why are you laughing?” The older woman repeated.

“Oh, it’s just that…Reina said I had to put on a dress to meet such an important person as you, and here you are, quite…unclothed…”

The older woman smiled. “Where I come from, clothes can be…a hindrance.”

“What does hindrance mean?”

“Get in the way...”

“Well! I feel exactly, the same...”

“People started clothing themselves for adornment, or warmth, especially in...” she waved a hand as if indicating the environment, “this colder land. Only…some people got so used to coverings, that they no longer liked being uncovered.” The older woman grinned. “Not me!”

“Me neither. What’s adornment?”

Hinewai’s grandmother fingered the fringing, spreading it out over her knees. “Now that’s the fun part of dressing up. But I see you’re not wearing any jewelry, or accessories, at all, except for a little belt.”

“Jewelry also gets in the way.” Hinewai stepped closer, studying the woman’s body art. “But I like your body drawings, daddy has some of those…”

“Moko? I earned the right to wear tattoos, for…” the older woman was going to say ‘winning wars’, but stopped, as she suddenly remembered Hinewai was just a child and might scare easily. Yet there was something in Hinewai’s demeanor that made the older woman doubt the girl scared easily, “…for…being brave…”

“I enjoy art, and I’d like some…” Hinewai thought a moment; what did the woman call it? “Moko, as well.”

The older woman beamed with pride at her grandchild’s clear articulation. “I’ve been told you’re a clever little girl…and a fast runner?”

Hinewai obviously didn’t consider that was much of an achievement, “only when I want to be…”

“What do you mean?”

Hinewai shrugged, “only if there are boys running in the race too.”

That made the woman laugh. “Then I’ve no doubt, that one day; you too, will have tattoos…”

Hinewai stared at the woman’s face.

“What?” The older woman asked the child.

“You don’t look…old…”

“I’m not old! Hiue-Hinehoe…” she hesitated, the older woman noticed the girl’s surprised expression and remembered her son telling her earlier that everyone just called the girl Hinewai, so she started again, “Hinewai, people start aging when they stop doing the things they’ve always done. Why, this is the fittest I have ever been. I have been far too busy, there has been no time for me to sit around, wasting away…”

“Yes, you go all over the wide sea world, don’t you, grandma?”

“I’ve seen some of our great ocean world, but not all of it…”

Then Hinewai looked the older woman in the eyes. “So…grandma, in your busy life, why did you want to see me, especially?”

For a moment the older woman was taken aback. “Especially? That’s a very grown-up word, in fact…that’s a very grown-up sentence...” she thought to herself, the education system is further advanced in this, the new land, then corrected herself, nonsense, the child has inherited the best of both worlds, that’s all. She changed positions on the couch, switching to leaning on the other side, and indicated a footstool nearby. “Sit, child, sit down...”

Hinewai did as she was told.

“And stop calling me grandma.”

Hinewai was about to say something, but an anxious look from the older woman, made her change her mind.

“Ever!” The older woman cleared her throat. “Don’t you know my name?”

Hinewai shook her head.

“No. Well, I suppose you wouldn’t. Let me introduce myself to you. Yes, I am your grandmother, but I do have a name. When I was born, I was called Ririrangi. But, most just say Riri, for short…”

“Like I get called Hinewai, short for Hiue-Hinehoe…”

“Yes, and I prefer to be Riri. That’s a nickname my father gave me when I was about your age. Can you say that?”

Hinewai nodded. “Which? Ririrangi, or Riri?”

“Very good,” the older woman laughed, “which name do you like the best?”

“Riri is nice…”

. “OK, call me Riri. Long names are tongue twisters. Now…can’t a grandmother just want to meet a granddaughter? I have come a very long way, to see you…”

“Exactly!”

The woman blinked at yet another ‘adult’ word. “Alright. Yes, there is a reason, but you’re much too young to understand.”

Hinewai still did not say anything, yet still did not avert her eyes, and one eyebrow lifted slightly. Not much, but it was not missed.

Riri tried to change the subject. “You kept me waiting.”

“Not for long,” Hinewai moved her little chair closer to the higher bench, “but I have been waiting to meet you for a very long time. For as far back as I can remember, dad has always told us about his brave mother, his clever mother, his beautiful mother…”

“Really?”

“And how she’s a very important person…”

“That’s why I haven’t been able to visit sooner.” Riri sighed. “I lead a very…strenuous life…” she saw the child’s brows cross in confusion and thought, ‘ahh, a word Hinewai doesn’t understand’, so added, “as I said earlier, I’m a very busy person…and; I live far, far away…” she sighed as a fleeting feeling of regret crossed her mind at the loss of ‘family time’ in her life, but it disappeared as quickly as it had emerged and she continued slowly, “some people, and I’m one of them, have to protect all the others, so they can have a good life…so our children and…” she looked at Hinewai, “our grandchildren can have a good life…”

The child noticeably relaxed and for a moment the woman thought she had successfully changed the subject, but she was wrong.

“Grandma…I mean Riri…why just me? Why isn’t the whole family here right now?”

“My, you are a precocious child…” Riri turned again, stretching her limbs across the couch, and reached for her drinking Gourd of Kawa on a side table. She took a sip, then emptied all the contents in one gulp. “Don’t you want to spend some special time alone with me? Just you and me, no-one else?”

Hinewai almost looked convinced at last.

However, after all that, Riri could not be dishonest with the girl. “Alright, I do want to see you…especially. Because you might be…important to our people.”

“Me?”

Riri put the empty Gourd down on the table. “Of course, you. You are the daughter of the feared Mitaroa, the granddaughter of the champion Ririrangi, and the granddaughter of a Half-God King. There have been many female champions as well as male, from my home, Takitumu. Perhaps because it is the gateway between the old land and the new, with many hoping to conquer that popular trading post in-between…”

Hinewai smiled to herself. That was the name that she was trying to remember earlier, when speaking with Reina. But, it has almost always been referred to as the ‘in-between stopover resting and replenishing supplies post’ isle between the actual old land and new. “But…I’m just a little girl…”

“Little girls grow up…”

“And then?”

“Well, you did say you’d like to earn some…body art, tattoos...”

“By racing with the boys?”

“Well, not exactly…but that’s how it starts…that’s how it started for me, anyway…if you’re just as good as the boys at sporting games, you may be just as good as the men at wars. In other words, if you’re good at winning races, you might be good at winning wars…”

“You…want me to be a warrior? Like…you?”

“I think you are very much like me, already.” Riri leaned closer to the child. “When I was a little girl, I, also, ran faster than the boys. That was the beginning of my unusual yet adventurous life. Are you teased? For being small?”

Hinewai nodded.

“So was I. But that only made me more determined to be just as clever, just as fast, just as good. Our size, and sex, makes us work harder at everything. Doesn’t it?”

Hinewai thought of the boys teasing, then their reluctant respect for her whenever she proved that despite her gender and size, she was just as good as them, if not better.

“Are you bullied?” Asked Riri, “by anyone just because you’re so tiny?”

Hinewai blinked as an image of Rona crossed her mind.

Riri mistook Hinewai’s hesitation for misunderstanding. “Does anyone tease you, or taunt you because they are bigger or older than you?”

“I…suppose…”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter…”

“Who?”

Hinewai frowned. “Nobody actually hurts me, so it really doesn’t matter!”

Riri sat back in her chair. “Oh, but it does matter, child. Words can hurt so much more than physical injuries attained while fighting in wars.”

“Only if you let it…”

Riri thought she had heard wrong. “What?”

“Words only hurt if you let them.”

Riri had to remind herself she was speaking with a babe. Still, she could not help but correct the child, more to convince herself that she, after all, was the superior, the adult here. “Allow it?”

Hinewai had heard the word before and smiled knowingly. “Yes. Allow it.” Then she swallowed as she fixed her eyes on her grandmother. “But grandma…I mean Riri, I don’t want to be a warrior…”

Riri studied the girl she thought was so much like herself. “You’re just a baby, Hinewai…you couldn’t possibly know what you want to be, or do, yet. And I’ve just told you, I’m not a large person, you don’t have to be big and strong, to fight the big and strong, you must be smarter, and faster, and you don’t have to be a man, to beat a man…I’m living proof of that. And look,” Riri admired her own arms and legs, “no scars…well, not many, hardly noticeable. It’s more important to be swift, which you are, and intelligent. And you’re obviously very clever…”

“But…” Hinewai stopped. How do you tell your father’s mother that although you’re fast, like she is, and small, like she is, and clever, like she is, that you have no interest in being a warrior, like she is...

“But what?”

“Father said…” Hinewai hesitated.

“Yes?” Prompted Riri.

“Father said we’re…Reina and I, are ready to learn how to read and write now, and maybe even…learn to dance…”

“Like the Tu Tatau Tapu-namu, temple priestesses?”

“Yes...”

“Granddaughter…you girls can still do that, and lots of other things too, I do…in fact, I think it’s important, to have a variety of interests in life. As you know, your father’s a warrior, but he loves to paint pictures…but he must have told you that we, first and foremost, are…a fighting people?”

Hinewai looked crushed. “Yes, but…” she tried once more, “isn’t it…isn’t it only those who want to fight…that go to war?”

Riri raised her eyebrows as though the thought had never occurred to her before. “Only those who want to?”

“Reina wants to,” but Hinewai knew she was fighting a losing battle, “Reina loves playing and wrestling with the boys, she’s also gone hunting with dad, and she can’t wait to join the army…”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s a place in the army, for both of you…” Riri took out the fishbone comb that fastened her hair in place and started combing the tresses, letting the long hair fall around her.

Hinewai gasped. She was mesmerized by the length that fell to the floor and momentarily forgot about their disagreement. Everyone had long hair, as it was generally believed that that’s where their strength came from, but she had never seen hair quite that long before, and it seemed to the child that with every stroke, it grew longer. The same color of the deep dark Kawa concoction that Riri had been drinking, the thick locks fell around the woman like a long soft veil. “Grandma…I mean Riri, I don’t enjoy sports, I don’t even like rough games…”

Riri put down her comb. “Yet…you don’t seem the sort to play house? Your parents say you never touch your dolls...” Riri added a little ruefully, “the precious gifts that I had made expressly for, and sent, to you…”

“No,” Hinewai gulped guiltily as she thought of the two beautiful dolls in her room, “I’m not interested in boy’s, or girl’s games…”

“Oh? So, what are you interested in?”

Hinewai held her painting up so Riri could view it.

“What’s that?” Riri asked.

“It’s…a painting…”

Riri reached for it and Hinewai let her take it.

“Careful, it might still be a little wet…” said the girl, not sure if out of concern for the woman getting paint in her glorious hair, or because she was afraid her morning’s work might get smudged.

Riri stood and took the painting over to the window so she could see it in better light. “Why, it’s a bird…a Hawk.”

Hinewai beamed proudly because her picture must have been a good likeness. “My favorite bird…”

Riri looked just as proud. “You did this? All on your own?”

Hinewai nodded.

“You’re…you’re just like your father. How long did it take?”

“I’ve only just started; I still have to add more color, and the finishing touches…”

“And what’s this?” Riri pointed to the marks below the bird.

Hinewai cleared her throat. “That’s supposed to say…competitive.”

Riri raised an eyebrow as she looked at her granddaughter. “What?”

Hinewai giggled. “It’s just a scribble, and you know it! Reina doesn’t.”

“You enjoy teasing your sister?”

“No! Of course not.” Then Hinewai smiled mischievously. “Well, sometimes…”

Hinewai waited to be growled at by the adult, but Riri sighed instead. “I wish I had a sister I could tease, and she could be bossy to me…yes, I know all about that…and we would still love each other regardless. Do you have any others?”

“Sisters?”

“Paintings!”

“Lots…”

“Besides birds?”

“Mostly birds…”

“Good. Then you won’t mind if I keep this one?”

“It…it’s not finished…”

“I like it just the way it is. I have a wall where it will go just perfectly, at my place…”

“In the…old land?” Hinewai interrupted.

“Yes,” Riri smiled, “in the old land…” Riri wondered if she should explain the ‘stop over’ resting/restocking place or not – then decided any place other than this place could be considered the older lands and changed her mind. “So…can I have it?”

Hinewai nodded.

Riri came back to her chair and spread the painting out on the side table. “Well, you’re very good at painting, but…” Riri tucked her legs beneath herself, “isn’t it forbidden to paint in this land? Except for professional artists?” She hadn’t expected the child to understand.

Yet, Hinewai answered slowly, trying to remember what Rona had just said, “that’s right, only quali…qua…li…quali…fied…that’s right, it’s not something anyone can do. But nobody tells us what we can and can’t do. Nobody!”

Riri smiled knowingly. “Us?”

Thinking the woman was not understanding her, Hinewai frowned. “Yes; us. Daddy’s people.”

“Us. And what are we called?”

“Huh?”

“Do we have a name?”

“Yes, savages…”

“What?”

“We are called savages. So…what are savages Riri?”

“Who told you that?”

Hinewai did not like to lie, but her instincts told her this was the best path to take, with this subject. The girl did not particularly like her maid, but for some reason she could not yet fully fathom, she did not want Rona to get into trouble. Rona may have her own reasons for not liking the newcomers, but even at Hinewai’s age, the little child knew it could be useful, having; not only a resentful servant, but also one who could not help but talk too much, near-by. “Oh, just servant’s gossip, I overheard we are savages, and I just wanted to show my grandmother, how much I do know…about us…”

“Just because we choose to live simply where I come from,” she moved her hand over the beautifully crafted and patterned bamboo seat she was using and thought of how her people sat on the floor, even royalty, “doesn’t mean…” Riri frowned, “…albeit, I suppose other people would think we’re savages, especially the elegant ladies of this land of...” she thought of some of the two-story or more dwellings she’d seen in this village, and compared them to the small one room shelters where she came from, “but you were born here, Hinewai, your mother is one of the…elegant ladies, and this is your home. So, you are not a savage, Hinewai.” Riri, forever confident in her own prowess, lifted her head proudly, “…and I don’t mind admitting it, I suppose I am…a savage…in comparison…”

“If you are, then father is too, so I must be a half savage?”

Riri laughed. “Savage, or civilized, be proud of your heritage child, for your father and I are proud descendants of the legendary Mori, the superior, undefeated warlords of Rapanui. So many have tried to conquer us, the Aratika, Takutia, and the marauding Te Vaka boat people of Niuatopu. No-one, could drive us from our home. And through your mother, you also have royal blood. The Manaian believe their rulers are half God, so sweet child, if they are right, you, being the daughter of their…current leader, who is my son, may also become a mother of…a half-God child…and it was me…me…who very cleverly arranged all this. Be proud Hinewai, in the knowledge that yes, you have the savage blood of the unconquerable Mori of Rapanui, and you have the royal blood of the elegant Manaian – don’t forget it, Hinewai…never forget who you are; be proud, stand tall, and shine!”

Hinewai’s eyes widened. “Like you.”

Riri looked pleased. “Yes, like me…”

“But…if I were to be the mother of…a half-God baby, it might be too…dangerous for me to be involved in the…army?”

“To the contrary, the mother of such a special child, will definitely have to know how to protect it…I’m a mother, a mother of a leader, and I’m in charge of a large regiment…a strong leader of people, must have strong parents…don’t worry so girl, the future mother of a King may not be often at the battle front, but…she will be a trained defender of herself, her children, and her people!”

Hinewai swallowed, as all her little attempts at avoiding army life failed. Yet Riri’s enthusiasm was infectious none-the-less. Although the girl was appalled at the life that was to be her destiny, Hinewai also found herself admiring the vivacious woman that was her grandmother and wondered if it was indeed possible that she also, the quiet, gentle serious and artistic girl, could ever be as radiant as her lively grandmother.

“Let’s get back to our name. Who, and what we are. Savage is a description, and one that is not supposed to be…complimentary…less secure people could take offence, as is intended…I, on the other hand, am very much aware of who, and what, I am…no-one else needs to know, needs to be convinced of the fact, it is enough that I alone know…” Riri tilted her head questioningly, “but I suspect you know that, don’t you?”

Hinewai tried to look innocent. “I…I do now…”

Riri raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Hinewai lowered her head to hide an all-knowing smirk which she tried to control, then gave into it and burst into a fit of giggles. “Yes, yes…I know…”

“Yes, yes…you do know that savages is not our name,” Riri laughed with the girl, “and…you also know the name of what we, the fighters, the brave warriors, the army, are really called, don’t you?”

“The Makimoi,” Hinewai was still laughing, “that’s our army’s name, Riri, our fighters are called the Makimoi…”

“That’s right,” Riri stopped laughing. “But! Do you know what Makimoi means child?”

Hinewai shook her head.

Riri patted the couch beside her, indicating the child come and sit with her. Hinewai moved hesitantly towards the woman she’d only just met, the warrior woman, a leader of fighters, and the mother of her heroic father. She’d heard that people bow in front of leaders, decided it was a little late to attempt a curtsey, but was not sure how close she was allowed to get to someone so great, even if the woman was her own grandmother.

Sensing the girl’s thoughts, Riri reached for the girl and lifted her onto the seat. “Makimoi is really two words. Moi, which means peaceful sleep, or trance-like, and Maki means hard and cold, which describes the resolve of the warrior people who choose to live without the warmth of proper shelters and softness of beautiful furnishings. An appropriate combination for together, Makimoi means hypnotic strength. Magical. And do you know what magic is?”

Hinewai had seen entertainers at their banquets, and buskers on the streets. “Yes…does that mean we’re…magical carnival fighters?”

“In a way, for, unlike most warriors, who rely on brute strength to fight, we think. Our conquests are won because we calculate, manipulate, use team strategies, and…” now Hinewai really was not following, so Riri attempted easier words, “simply, if there’s an easier way, we will find it, and these skills mixed with cunning, bluffing and deceiving…” now Riri was so carried away with her own enthusiasm, she no longer cared if the child was understanding or not, “…and entertaining, that it all appears as if by…” Riri clicked her fingers, “magic…”

Although not understanding every word, Hinewai understood what was meant and looked so entranced, that Riri continued, “and hypnotic, enchanting, irresistible, beguiling, illusions, it covers so many amazing things, yet…others would attempt to malign us by whispering behind our backs that Makimoi means witchcraft instead and reluctantly, I have to admit, I suppose it does, as well…”

“We’re…witches?”

Riri embraced Hinewai. “Sometimes, if we have to be, for the good of our people, to save our families, our loved ones…so you see little one, we are the magical Makimoi warriors, we proudly display our war art, our body Moko art…all of us, and so shall you…”

****** ****** ******

“You…you must be wrong!” Mitaroa hardly ever raised his voice to his mother.

“I need another drink. You need a drink.” Riri signed to the young male servant who had shown Hinewai’s parents in, “let’s all have a drink.”

The servant went to do her bidding, Riri, who had been standing; twirled, her hair swirling around her, and returned to her lounge; Mitaroa, who had been positively beaming with pride when he and his wife Ingari entered just moments earlier, now glared at his mother in disbelief; Ingari looked as though she were about to cry, and Hinewai sat quietly on the little footstool wishing she could melt into the floor, knowing she had somehow disappointed the adults. She, who had been the pride and joy of her parents, had let them down, had failed her grandmother’s interview. She looked at her hands, the hands that loved to paint, and wondered why they did not want to fight instead, like her warring people. She looked at her right hand, the one she called the clever hand that made all the accurate images, then looked at her left hand, the one she called the strong hand, that carried all the materials for her precious art.

Mitaroa shook his head. “You must be wrong, mother…why, she’s the cleverest in her class, her teacher, Tutaki, says she’s the only one who is interested in anything he has to say, and that although she’s a girl, in a land where only boys go to school, she’s the only one he thinks will end up being good enough to be his scribe…she’s always been ahead of her age, crawled at seven full moons, walked at ten full moons…”

“I know, I know…” Riri started, then stopped when the servant returned with more of the potent Kawa drink.

Mitaroa waited until the servant had poured their drinks and left the room before continuing. “Mother, although she prefers indoor occupations to outside sports, Hinewai is a faster runner than the fastest seven season old boys that are now in the process of entering the army…just like you, who has always been faster than the fastest males…and Tutaki says she’s…”

“Destined for greatness?” Riri interrupted. “I agree, son, she is. Just look at her painting…”

Mitaroa nodded in agreement. “No other child here, is even interested in art…”

“That’s not what I mean, look,” Riri held the painting up, “she’s painted…a hawk!”

“Of course,” Mitaroa swallowed, “the Manaian war God Aha…she’s seeing his likeness everywhere – she knows he is the main subject of all art here!”

“So, it is of no surprise to me, as all females of our line, going back to Erena herself, that deep down somewhere, the child recognizes her place, her fate. She shall represent the Aha, a big responsibility in itself. But, she is not…’the one’!”

Mitaroa gulped and looked at his daughter. He moved to sit on the floor flax covering beside her. Ingari followed and sat beside her husband.

Hinewai kept her eyes on her hands, she had no idea what was expected or not expected of her, and she could not return her father’s gaze.

Ingari, who hardly drank, downed her goblet in one go. This unusual action took everyone’s interest momentarily from Hinewai and noticing, the girl glanced up at the scene. She didn’t know whether to be happy, or sad. Did this mean she would not have to be a warrior after all?

“Are you alright?” Mitaroa asked his wife.

“Does…does that mean…we…I…have to…” Ingari looked at her daughter. Hinewai could not feel jubilant at not having to be a warrior when her mother looked so disappointed and…was it fear that she saw in her mother’s eyes?

Mitaroa knew what his wife was trying to say and took her hand. He returned his gaze to his mother. “No! Ingari almost died when Hinewai was born. And she has never fully recovered. We can’t go through all that again…Hinewai must be the one…”

Riri shook her head.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

Riri nodded.

“How? Why?”

“Hinewai is not the one, Mita…” Riri hadn’t called him by the shortened version of his birth name since before she took him to her own Hapu Hoia, her army regiment, when he was only seven years old. “I know how you feel, son…she is clever, like me, talented, like you, poised, like her mother, and…beyond her years. I had to keep reminding myself that I have been conversing with a child. Why, look at her…she’s been with me for most of the day and she has sat on that little uncomfortable wooden stool for most of that time without fidgeting or complaining, and not once did she glance longingly out the windows, at the lovely day outside - if she’d rather have been out playing in the sunshine with her friends, she did not show it…such self-discipline, is usually non-existent, in one so young…”

“Then…”

“Let me finish!” Riri took a sip of her drink.

Mitaroa and Ingari looked at each other, as if reading each other’s minds. Mitaroa had known a few women in his lifetime, but none managed to capture his heart the way this elegant, graceful Manaian lady had – similar in size and color to his mother, yet so different – so refreshingly different. But…so fragile – most women of his own race were so independent nowadays, following Riri’s example – no, it started long before Riri, a small percentage of Mori women have always preferred to be like the now legendary famous Erena of Takitumu – in comparison, his feminine Ingari made him feel masculine – he liked to be needed – and although the beginning of their life together had been unfortunately bonded in blood, for he had killed her father, the unexpected birth of Hinewai united them forever together, in love - Hinewai, their first-born child…

“If you’ll just let me explain, Hinewai is not the one, simply because,” Riri looked lovingly at her granddaughter, “because…she is so much like me…”

Mitaroa was confused. “Then she should be ‘the one’…”

“No!” Riri turned to her son. “Mitaroa, how would you describe me?”

Realization appeared in his eyes, but he still would not admit Hinewai was not the prophesied mother of the next half-God King, as expected by the Manaian, and as hoped by his ambitious mother. He did not look at Riri and mumbled to the floor. “I have always described you as being beautiful, brave and…”

“You know what I mean…”

Mitaroa looked up at his mother. “Yes, I know exactly what you mean…you were never there when I needed you…”

“Makimoi warriors never need anyone! Especially not their mothers!”

“Yes. You, the great leader, never let anyone get too close. You, mother, are without emotion - but Hinewai, unlike you, is soft and gentle, quiet, and sweet, like her mother!”

“Who will grow into a gentle, quiet woman, like her mother, but also a cold, hard woman, like her grandmother. Yes, my son, I have looked into her heart, and I have seen my own reflection. She is not the one, Mitaroa, simply because…she is too hard!”

“It’s my fault!” Ingari fought back the tears, “I…I…”

Mitaroa reached out for his wife. “Stop! It’s not your fault!”

Ingari pulled away from her husband. “Yes, it is! When…when she was born, I was repelled by her…”

Mitaroa frowned. “What?”

Ingari shifted uneasily. “I was repelled at having given birth to a child of the man who had…killed my father!”

Mitaroa opened his mouth but could not speak.

Ingari looked at her husband with cold eyes. “Repelled!”

Now Mitaroa shifted uneasily. “I didn’t…I didn’t know…”

“Of course not! How could you? You were never around! You Maki men, do what you want, take what you want, without any consideration for anyone else’s feelings!”

“I stayed away because…I knew you despised me at the time and couldn’t stand to have me around. But…a baby…your baby?”

“Your baby!”

For a moment both parents looked at each other, then at their little girl, the daughter they both now, considered to be their love child.

Ingari tried to smile. “I’m so sorry, Hinewai…so sorry…”

Mitaroa sighed. “Me too…”

Apart from a slight flicker of the eyelashes, the girl did not respond. She was still trying to figure out if she was a disappointment or a delight, if she was to be a warrior, or mother of a special half-God future king, or both.

Ingari turned to Riri. “I neglected my child when she needed me. By the time I realized I had a lovely daughter, she no longer…” she swallowed, “needed me…”

Mitaroa shook his head. “No, it’s my fault…if I hadn’t killed your father…”

“Oh, stop it, both of you!” Riri interrupted, “stop being so hard on yourselves. There’s no such thing as perfect parents. It’s nobody’s fault. Ingari, Females can be independent, regardless of how much love, or the lack of it, they get…and Mitaroa, due to the circumstances at the time, you had no choice but to do what you did…and if Hinewai was often left alone to amuse herself, following Tutaki around, if anything, has only helped develop her potential. For the teacher, who never had a girl attend his classes before, at first, enthusiastically took the venture on as an opportunity to experiment, to determine the difference between male and female students. It’s quite obvious; he now admires his female pupil…”

“But,” Mitaroa interrupted, “you have never met Tutaki…”

Riri blinked unbelievably, “we’ve been apart for too long. Have you forgotten all about your mother already?”

Mitaroa smiled, “you’re a witch…”

Riri smiled, “I call it being intuitive and instinctive…”

“And finely tuned in…”

“And reading between the lines…”

“You and Hinewai had an informative interview…”

“Yes…and if anyone’s to blame, include me, for I know she, and both of you; it seems, have not realized it yet and because of her attachment to the teacher, she has spent the first few years of her life interested in scholarly pursuits, but Hinewai has inherited a lot of me, also…too much of me, to be…the one. No, she is not the one, but she has an equally important role to play in all of this, in the new land, in our future here, for the future generations, of the Manaian Makimoi… ”

The older woman did not miss Ingari’s flinch, the tightening of her daughter-in-law’s fingers on Mitaroa’s arm. Riri cleared her throat. “You have another daughter, Mitaroa,” Riri glanced at Ingari, but typically, Ingari hid any feelings regarding Reina, or Mitaroa’s concubine.

For the second time, Mitaroa looked at his mother incredulously, verging on anger. “You can’t be serious…”

“We must check out every possibility son, especially if…Ingari’s health is at stake?”

“But…she’s…the woman…” Mitaroa cleared his throat,” that is, Kai, is not one of us…”

“Oh…you mean the mother, but…is that important?” Riri glanced at Ingari, “she’s still of this land isn’t she?”

Mitaroa gasped. “Mother, you go too far…”

“I only do what I have to do…” Riri sipped some of her drink, “these people believe their royal king has to be Half-God.”

“And, Ingari is of royal blood.” Interupted Mitaroa, “another reason I think you’re wrong about Hinewai…”

Ingari sighed. “But husband, Kai is…royal too…”

“What?” Mitaroa frowned at his wife. “What do you mean? You never told me…”

Ingari rolled her eyes. “Don’t you two ever talk?”

Mitaroa squeezed her hand. “No…I already have a wife, a female partner, for company, for conversation…”

Ingari blinked. She had a way of slowly fanning her long lashes over her cheeks that always melted her husband’s anger. “Well, Kai’s father was a chief, of the desert Awhia people...”

“How…how is it exactly,” Mitaroa asked Ingari, “that you were in a position to…give a chief’s daughter to your husband?”

Riri thought she’d heard wrong. “Wait!” She turned to her daughter-in-law, “you gave my son; your husband, his…concubine?”

Ingari shifted nervously on her chair before answering her mother-in-law. “Healthy men have needs. Sometimes unhealthy wives cannot satisfy them.” Then she turned to her husband. “And only the best of the women can be given to our hero, just as I…” she swallowed, “once was…” she could not continue.

“Promised to me and then taken away again, you mean!” Mitaroa looked at his wife, “that’s the kind of marriage contract your father made, and broke!”

Ingari flinched. “Yes. Well. And we all know how you handled that little problem, don’t we? The only way a killer knows how to deal with anything!”

“Maybe. But at least you can trust a killer. I should not have trusted a King.”

Riri was clearly enjoying this. “Wait! Neither of you answered me. Is it normal for a wife in this land to give a concubine to her husband?”

Mitaroa turned to his mother. “Mother!” Then back to his wife. “Actually, how is it that you were able to give a Chief’s daughter away to anyone? How is it that a Chief’s daughter became a slave? Do you…Manaian…trade people?”

Ingari blinked at her husband, a well-traveled man of the large sea. A strong and brave warrior, who had become the leader of her people. Such a charming, humorous, and popular man, that her people, although he had killed her father, their King, all loved and admired. Yet in some ways, he was so naïve, so unsophisticated. “Mitaroa…according to Kai, she was stolen. Kidnapped, taken away from her people against her will. Traders can do well, with such…flawless beauty. Sometimes we negotiate for some of these unfortunate people from the slave-traders, while they’re passing through our territory. You must admit, we treat our servants well, clothe and feed them, give them shelter and jobs. Who knows what other lifestyle and what kind of masters they may have ended up with? Contrary to common belief, we are not cruel, we are just…lazy. We need people to do the work, they need to be sheltered and fed. It’s a fair exchange. And…it’s not really that we’re lazy either, it’s…just our way. We do not encourage ambition, greed, competitiveness, which can only lead to hate and envy amongst ourselves, so we need people to work the fields, and run the houses and village, for us…” for a moment, she almost looked as though she pitied her husband as she sighed and continued, “even…fight our wars…”

Mitaroa gulped. All these years in the new land he thought he was some kind of conqueror. It was his turn to blink uncertainly at his spouse. Of course, he now realized, he and his services had been negotiated for also. Workers and fighters can climb the ladders of success and promotion that fuel dishonesty and cheating while the Manaian sit back and have their food and clothing brought to them without any effort of their own. His services were paid for with a grand house. House? Estate, more like it, filled with several Whare shelters, with a courtyard much larger than the average Marae Atea village square, and a formal meeting area. He had servants, furnishings, jewelry, several Rapaki loin cloths - although he preferred the simpler and easier Pareu wrap-arounds from the old land. He also had Panetoki ceremonial kilts, various Koroka cloaks, some with exquisite Taniko embroidery and others of the softest Kiwi down but again, he preferred his crimson Kaka Kahukura that his mother had made for him. He even had an Aryan stallion, which had been presented to him by the natives; which had probably been stolen from the Pakeha; a newer, recent people to the land – a people so new he had never seen any yet, but he’d heard they were friendly at first, and curious, but who are now a threat to life as they knew it and are proving to be the newest enemy in the north and although they have explosive weapons, the general consensus is that they will be driven from the land because of the native’s numerous numbers - but some suspect that these foreigners might continue to come; and felt the future quite uncertain. But for now, for a man of a people who were supposed to prefer living sparsely, he lived grandly, and had almost forgotten what it was like to live simply - like his mother, and people that chose to remain living on the old lands. He glanced at Riri, but she did not seem disturbed by Ingari’s words. But then why should she? When it was she who had been the negotiator, she, whose ambition had not stopped at merely winning men’s sports, or winning men’s wars, but who had wanted to win the most coveted land in their vast water world also, and had deftly taken over a part of it with a deal instead of a war; a trade; a home in the new land in return for the services of the world’s strongest army. In return for protection; something, that none of this land’s other enemies apparently had even thought of. How shrewd. She knew these people were apathetic, she knew an arrangement could be made between the people who did not want to fight, and the people who lived for fighting.

Riri knew what Mitaroa was thinking. “Oh, don’t feel so shocked, son…you earned your new life in the new land, and your position in it…bought and paid for? You’re their leader, son…their leader!”

“You should know mother, it was all your idea…Manaian you said, the people who needed us to protect them from the combined enemy tribes on the other side of the desert and great lake, our new world, our future…”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe there’s a reason I did what I did?”

“Of course. The champion likes to win. Being the fastest runner was your first ambition. But you couldn’t be satisfied with that. You had to prove you were the best at spear throwing. Not satisfied with that, you had to prove you could fight and kill like a man and negotiate a business deal - like a man! Why? Why mother? Why couldn’t you be like all the other warrior’s mothers, waiting with loving arms back home for their men to return?”

“Return wrapped up lifeless in their cloaks you mean? Wait? Like my mother waited? First her husband, my father, was carried home in his Koroka cloak, then each son, my brothers, until only I was left, and she was too heartbroken by being ‘that woman waiting at home for the men’, to care about me, the one who couldn’t even go to war because I just happened to be a girl? I knew I was the fastest, and growing up the only girl with five brothers, I knew how to wrestle and fight just as good as any of them…” she glanced at Hinewai, “way back at Hinewai’s age…” Riri flicked her hair back and seemed to coil on the lounge like a Nakahi snake, ready to strike; “but I showed her, I showed my mother, I showed the Koroua elders, the Kaunihera council of wise men, and Manukura leaders, not only was I just as good as my brothers, but I, never returned home carried, wrapped in my cloak!”

For a moment, there was silence, as all, including Riri herself, were stunned by her animated outburst.

Ingari looked at her mother-in-law as if for the first time. “I thought…I thought all Mori women…”

Riri nodded, “there’s a few like me, but there are still a lot who prefer to…wait at home, and the Koroua and Kaunihera, are still mostly made up of men who don’t make it easy for women like me…”

Then Mitaroa, still pondering on his mother’s sudden revelation, cleared his throat. “What happened to my grandmother?”

“My mother? Huh! She aged before her time and lives…no, exists…if you could call it an existence…in a little world of her own imagination…a weak woman…not worthy of her Mori ancestry…”

Mitaroa did not know whether to admire or dislike his mother.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Riri continued, “she’s being looked after well enough…now, back to the reason I…made a deal, as you call it…is because our way of life is dying in the old lands, in fact all the Poronihiana people of the vast water world do not understand us, they consider us barbaric, although we’ve come to their aid whenever they needed it, the Artutaki hate us, they feel as though they are working for us, although they originally approached us for work, so we had them tend to our homes, and crops; trusted them with our property, in return for our protection, shelter and food; that way, we could spend all our time training and warring - but over time, they have forgotten it was their idea in the first place, and they have forgotten what it was like not to have a home, not to have a hearth, or bedding and food in their bellies; they chose the life we offered them, now they want to destroy us, with many of the neighboring people joining them. Also, our numbers are dwindling; although we have the reputation of being the best in the world, some of our warriors still get killed none-the-less, in almost every war, whereas it takes months for new babes to be born to us - seven years before they; mainly boys, begin their training, and another seven after that before they commence actual fighting…and although some females have followed Erena’s or my example, most girls would rather be those ‘waiting at home women’ so; for our species to survive, we have had to make sure every able female is continually bearing children; but, even that’s not enough; albeit, the importance of also finding a new home…” Riri shrugged, “why not the best?”

“And…” Mitaroa glanced at his wife, “a people worthy of interbreeding…”

Riri nodded her head. “The Aitutaki of the old lands now hate us too much to even consider such a thing; even though, most of us were Aitutaki also, originally…we’ve offered to trade for their services, they won’t accept our propositions…we’ve told them to go, be free, go back to their own lands, or wherever they want, but they stay, used to their fractionally better lifestyles, for we don’t live like kings, far from it…and there are rumors of a revolt, instead…” Riri laughed, “they; generations of fishermen, dream of conquering the army…but this is how stupid they are - they have not noticed, that we do not attack, that our code of honor is to defend, not only ourselves, but our neighbors also, when feasible…so stupid that they have not noticed that it is our very own lifestyle, of killing and being killed, without being able to replenish our numbers fast enough, that it won’t be our enemies that we have to fear; it’s our way of life that’s destroying us, our way of life…”

“Because…” added Mitaroa, “our ancestors did not believe in integration, they insisted on ‘keeping it in the family’, so to speak…pure blooded Mori…”

“Yes…and when they started realizing their mistake, it was too late, other Aitutaki, resent us too much now, to love us…”

“Yet, you stay there…”

“I fought for my position and place there, and regardless of ‘the deal’ I made, you ended up having to fight for yours here…I belong there, as you belong here…” Riri took another sip from her Gourd goblet, “but at least I know my son is safe, and our seed will continue…in the new land, and with new blood, possibly Half-God blood. You and…” she glanced at Ingari, “Ingari, are starting a new race, I’ve noticed that you’re referred to as the Makimoi…very appropriate, for the new line of Manaian and Mori to be named after your army, your warrior expertise…and because you are a popular leader, the people will follow your example…I have already noticed, how some of the Manaian have joined your army…within only a few years, you have little mixtures of us and them, already…a new people, a new army, in so short a time…who would have believed it?” She glanced at Hinewai. “I was telling Hinewai earlier, before you two arrived, how Makimoi meant; ‘as if…by magic…”

“And witchcraft,” added Hinewai, without looking up at the adults.

“Yes,” Riri smiled, “and Makutu, witchcraft…”

Mitaroa shook his head. “Safe? You think we’re safe here? With most surrounding nations joining together to conquer your so-called best place in the world? And future? Oh, yes, most people here have accepted my leadership, although they refuse to crown me and call me their King because I am not half immortal according to their tradition, but not because they actually like us, but because they’d rather live the life my wife just described, since it is marginally better than the alternative, where God forbid, they may have to work for a living? Or worse still, even fight for their lives? Also, if the Aitutaki realized they no longer liked the pact they made for our protection back home in the old land, it’s possible the Manaian may change their minds here too, in the new land, one day…”

“Oh no, this is different, as we’ve just agreed, you and your followers are integrating, which, our ancestors should have done.” Riri shrugged. “All the tribes of Tipu-Aki started out as one nation, after all…it was democracy that divided our people, when our ancestors decided to be democratic and had too many chiefs who could not agree on anything, that the discontented split and left in all directions, to ironically, live under only one leader’s rule; no matter how much they dream of ‘so-called freedom’, people need to be led, people need someone, to make their decisions for them. It may take time, but I foresee a new breed of people here, there’s already a few who couldn’t keep away from the army, and sooner or later, there’ll be others, who also, won’t mind getting ‘their hands dirty’. A new life, not only for us, but for them also, a new ‘combined’ people, guided by only one strong leader…you.”

Mitaroa gulped as he thought of all the times, he had resented his mother. But because he was very much aware that against the laws of Mori, he himself, not only desired a woman of a different people, but he had married her as well, and had even killed her father to have her; so, he never felt he could criticize his mother’s actions, when he himself had behaved so atrociously. Right now, he felt like a child who had been reprimanded for incorrectly judging a fellow leader, who, as it turned out, was only trying to save her dying race. And at last, too, he realized through her words of wisdom, that if he and Ingari had to be the ones to keep the Mori from becoming extinct, then he too, can forgive himself for…he looked at his wife, falling in love with a woman not of his people. He smiled. “Yes, Hinewai is half Manaian…”

“And Reina?” asked Riri.

“Reina?” Mitaroa looked at his mother, “Reina is half…half…” He turned to his wife, “…what did you say?”

“Awhian,” Ingari answered with a frown, “don’t you even know?!?”

But Mitaroa would not let her continue. “Awhian! Whatever that is!”

Ingari swallowed. “Mitaroa! We did try to find Kai’s family…”

Mitaroa softened. “You did?”

“Of course. Once we realized who she was, and what had happened…”

“So, you only do that for…important people?”

“Heavens no. For all those who wish it. But Mitaroa, you must understand, most don’t want to go back. Their memories are of their loved ones either being slaughtered, or likewise enslaved, their homes burned, destroyed…they have nothing to go back to…then, when by the will of the Gods, they find themselves here, in the land of plenty, they offer to work, to be a part of our bountiful lifestyle.” Ingari bowed her head. “But…we couldn’t find Kai’s people, her family…they have adapted so well to their desert environment, that they will not be found, unless they want to be – obviously, they believed it an honor for Kai to be with you - so she accepted her destiny, that had bought her here, to us…accepted! Just as you must accept yours…whether mapped out by…” she glanced at Riri, “your mother, or the Gods, probably both…”

“Well!” Riri looked at her daughter-in-law with a new respect. “What a wise woman you are. If Kai’s accepted her position, and you obviously have as well Ingari, then…” she turned to her son, “what’s wrong with you?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, mother, I love my wife, my daughters,” he raised his arms, indicating his surroundings, “and I have grown used to having a nice place to come home to after killing for a living…it’s just that sometimes I wonder about it all…the sacrifices we made…the bloodshed…” he felt Ingari’s hand stiffen in his own, and knew she was thinking of how he had killed her father, “was it all worth it…after all?”

“It will be,” Riri’s voice softened, “it will be - the people here will not crown you because you are a foreigner, and a full mortal, and it is far too soon for a traditional people to make too many adjustments, in so short a time. They believe their kings are half mortal, half God; so, it won’t be until one of your daughters, as predicted…”

“By you,” Mitaroa interrupted sarcastically.

“Alright, as predicted by me, becomes the mother of the half-God King of your new life, new land, the place that everyone wants, the place where everyone…wants to live, that it will all be worth it...”

Reina heard footsteps approaching, and stood up, just in time. Riri stepped out of the receiving hall, followed by Mitaroa, Ingari and a rather sullen Hinewai.

“You’re still here?” Mitaroa asked, he and Ingari had passed her when they were summoned to join Riri and Hinewai earlier.

“You’re still here?” Hinewai also asked her sister, “good, because it’s your turn now…”

“My turn?” Reina had not expected to have a ‘turn’, even at her young age, she knew she was not an important member of the family.

“Yes,” continued Hinewai, “I’m not good enough…”

Riri swirled on the landing and the sun glinted through her hair like a gleaming veil. “I never said that! I just said you’re not ‘the one’. But Hinewai, you will have the most important job of all…”

Hinewai blinked up at the woman. “I will?”

“Yes, little one, you are not ‘the one’, but it is you, who will have to protect her. ‘The one’ will be surrounded by enemies, Hinewai, so you will have to keep her safe, to fulfill her destiny...”

Hinewai was still hoping she did not have to join the army and learn to fight. “Protect?”

“Yes, Hinewai, protect!” Before there were any further objections from the little girl’s disinterest in learning how to protect via army life, Riri quickly turned to the sister. “So, you’re Reina?”

“Ye-es?” Reina nodded, and although feeling a little awkward regarding her sister’s apparent destiny, she could not help but feel a little elated that she, the half-sister, may be ‘the one’, whatever that meant, “glad to meet you, grandma...”

Hinewai turned on her sister. “She doesn’t like being called grandma, her name is Riri…”

Reina swallowed. “Riri…”

Riri beamed down at the girl. “And you’ve been waiting here since your sister came to see me?”

Reina nodded again.

Riri was impressed. “Well! Another child with amazing patience and self-discipline.” She turned to Mitaroa. “You’ve done well, with your daughters my son, very well…”

“But…it’s not like you,” Mitaroa said to Reina, “to sit around, especially on a beautiful, sunny day like today…”

Reina cleared her throat. “I wanted to meet…” her adoring eyes had not left the beautiful woman since Riri had appeared in the doorway, “I wanted to meet…my warrior grandmother...”

Riri beamed. “Ahhh...” She put her hand out and guided Reina into the room, “now this one is interested in army life…”

“But that’s because…” Hinewai started, but the door had already closed behind them. But that’s because, Hinewai thought to herself, Reina has seen only the training, and celebrating, not the actual…killing…neither had she, and she didn’t want to.

The parents started to move away, then noticed Hinewai was still standing outside the hall, staring at the closed door.

Mitaroa’s heart went out to his daughter. “Come on Hinewai, let’s wait in the nursery…”

Ingari took a step toward her daughter, but before she could reach her, Hinewai turned, and ran to her room.

When the parents reached Hinewai’s room, the child had taken her dress off, and she was combing her hair, her back to the door, a perplexed Rona watching from the opposite side of the room.

“Are you alright daughter?” Asked the mother.

No answer.

“Hinewai, what are you doing?” Asked the father.

Still no answer.

A little perplexed, the parents looked at each other. They both believed the girl felt like she’d failed somehow, and maybe for the first time in her life, maybe even felt a little jealous of her sister.

“She…” Rona hoped Hinewai’s parents did not blame her, for the girl’s strange behavior, “Hinewai just threw her dress off, grabbed the comb, and…” Rona shrugged, “she wouldn’t let me help…”

“Do I ever need your help?” Hinewai scowled at the servant.

The parents could not see the expression on Hinewai’s face from their position, still in the doorway. Then, arms outstretched, she crossed one foot over the other, and mimicking her grandmother, twirled around to face her parents, her hair flowing all around her. And by the time she faced her parents, the scowl had turned to the sweetest smile. “Guess who I am?”

The parents laughed at the child’s imitation of her grandmother…

Soon after, the parents and daughter waited in the nursery. For a while, they attempted a game together, but it was obvious they were not really interested, they were all deep in their own thoughts, concerning what had just happened, and Hinewai returned to her art supplies to commence a new picture. The parents did not try to stop her, she had behaved so well all day, and seemed to be taking the strange meeting with her grandmother quite well.

“How do you think she’s coping?” Ingari whispered to her husband.

“She’s too young to understand?” It was a question rather than a statement.

“I disagree. A child doesn’t sit and look at her hands for so long, like she did while we were talking with your mother...”

“Hinewai does…”

“No, she was listening to every word. Even if she didn’t understand everything, she thinks she’s failed. You heard her, thanks to your mother, she thinks she’s not good enough!”

Without looking up from her work, Hinewai said, “Mother, it doesn’t matter…”

Both parents looked at their daughter in surprise. They didn’t think she’d been listening.

As if talking to herself, Hinewai continued, “I don’t want to be a mother. That’s ‘the one’s’ job, isn’t it? I don’t even play with my dolls...”

“Your grandmother sent you those beautiful dolls,” Ingari reminded her, “all the way from the old lands…”

“I know, and I like them, but…” Hinewai shrugged, “she’s right, I’m just like her…”

“But…she had me,” said Mitaroa to his daughter, “I, am her child…”

“Oh, I might have a son too, one day, but he will not be the King of Manaia…”

Ingari gasped. “She understood everything!”

Mitaroa cleared his throat. “Did we even mention…a King?”

Ingari playfully pinched her husband. “Yes, we did…”

“Still, our little girl’s sense of understanding is…amazing.”

“Our little girl really is like her grandmother…she senses the future, what’s in store for her…”

“What a first meeting,” Mitaroa took his wife’s hand, “for both of you…”

“I…didn’t think I liked her, at first…”

“Me too…”

They laughed.

Ingari looked at her husband. “Do you think…Reina…”

“Is the one?” Mitaroa shrugged. “Who knows what goes on in my mother’s mind...”

Ingari blinked, surprised. “Don’t you share her…predictions?”

“No!” Mitaroa paused, then shrugged. “Yes, of course I do. I must. She’s always been right, I wouldn’t be…” he averted his eyes, “I wouldn’t be the man I am today, in the position I’m in, if it wasn’t for her…” Then he lifted Ingari’s hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Nor would I have met you…”

“Yet…you’re not as…” Ingari could not find the right word.

“Fanatical?” Mitaroa concluded for her, knowing what she was trying to say. “I’m more of a practical sort. Yes, I’ve let her guide me, and I have no regrets. But I’m afraid I…may have misunderstood her…”

“It’s a form of hypnotism isn’t it?”

Mitaroa had never thought of it like that. “Yes, I suppose it is…manipulation is a closer description that comes to my mind, my mother is consumed with our destiny…and until today, I, just like the Aitutaki she mentioned, did not realize how bad our situation is. But now I know exactly, why she’s forever twisting fate…”

“It…can’t be easy, being the son of a great woman, a woman who managed to live a man’s life, in a man’s world…an amazing feat in itself. And you, being a male, has the pressure…not only from her, but from yourself as well, you must continually prove to her and yourself, that you’re worthy to be her son…”

“Yes! Only…I didn’t realize that either, until now…and already, she’s doing it to our little girl…within just a few hours, Hinewai now believes she’s…just like her grandmother!”

“And now, she has Reina with her…”

“Yes, poor child…at least Hinewai already knows her position here, as the leader’s daughter, and it seems she’s already accepting the fact that she’s Riri’s granddaughter, with some kind of duty to perform. But Reina has always known she’s not as important, and goodness knows what Riri’s filling her head with, right now…but after today’s revelations, I just have to believe that whatever my mother has in mind, is all for the preservation of us, and our new life, in this new land…”

Ingari nodded. “I agree, but…” she looked fondly at the daughter she had so regretfully neglected, “she’s asking too much of a child, Mitaroa, our firstborn child…”

“On the contrary, now that I’m finally starting to understand my mother, I think she wants the firstborn to be saved from the pressure of sacrificing her life to the duty of being the mother of a half-God King…”

Ingari did not look convinced.

Mitaroa shrugged. “I know she seemed callous towards…” he indicated their daughter with his eyes, “but that’s just her way, she’s always been like that with me, too…but I’ve never doubted her love…”

“Yes, you did…”

“OK, I did…but I don’t doubt her love for Hinewai…”

Ingari still looked unconvinced.

“For one thing,” continued Mitaroa, “Riri never compared anyone with herself before, never!”

“That’s because there’s never been anyone else quite like Riri, before…”

“No, there hasn’t…I don’t believe even the great Erena…”

Ingari looked confused. “Who?”

“An ancestor, another female war champion …as I was saying, I don’t believe even the great Erena was half as clever as my mum.”

Ingari laughed. “You wouldn’t be biased at all, would you?”

Mitaroa laughed with her. “Maybe just a little, and proud too…”

“And so, you should be…”

“That’s nice of you, considering…”

“How rude she was to me? Talking as though I wasn’t even there sometimes, talking as though my people were intelligent enough to spawn with, but thankfully slothful enough not to get any ambitious ideas? Regardless of what we might think of your people?”

Mitaroa grinned. “I know how your people feel about us…”

Ingari’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really?”

Now Mitaroa laughed. “You think we’re barbaric, and uncouth!”

Ingari looked surprised. She knew her people treated the newcomers better than they did their own race. Lavished the warriors with the best of everything. “How did you know, how they really think, and how long have you known, and…” she gasped, “you never told me you knew…”

“I didn’t know for sure,” Mitaroa shrugged, “until now…”

“Oh! You tricked me!”

“Actually,” Hinewai didn’t even look up from her painting, “the natives call us savages…”

The adults raised eyebrows, saw the girl wasn’t really interested in joining in on their conversation, and continued their discussion.

“Don’t look so upset,” Mitaroa smiled at his wife, “as far back as I can remember, although we were considered the strongest and bravest, and have been continually asked to help protect all other neighboring Tipu-Aki tribes, all other nations, consider us to be barbaric savages...so why should your people think any differently?”

“Oh…I’m sorry, Mitaroa…”

Mitaroa laughed, but when Ingari did not join him, he sighed. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry, Ingari…”

“For what?”

“Hinewai is not the only one, expected to…do her duty…”

Ingari sighed. “I know…”

“So…I truly am sorry, sweetheart…”

“Don’t be. Sometimes duty, destiny, whatever…can be wearying, but…I know you, my husband…you would not have your life any other way…”

He pulled her to him. “Ingari. Are you deliberately misunderstanding me? You think you’re beyond Riri’s devious ways? Escaped her manipulative mind? Because you’re the foreign daughter-in-law far away from where my mother lives?”

“She leads a very busy life. I have never met her before. How often do you think she’ll visit?”

“Don’t worry, I know her, how she thinks, and believe me, she has your life in her hands as well…”

“No, I’m not deliberately trying to misunderstand you, Mitaroa…” Ingari looked at her daughter, then back at her husband. “She expects us to…to keep trying, doesn’t she?”

Mitaroa nodded.

“But…what about…”

“Kai?” Mitaroa shook his head. “I’m sorry Ingari, but I, in turn, gave her away also…”

Ingari gasped. “You what?”

“When a friend expressed his interest in her, and I could tell Kai was attracted to him also, well, I…I thought she deserved to have a proper relationship…”

“But…Reina…?”

“Still lives on the premises…”

“Then Kai and her new husband…?”

“Reside close enough…I wouldn’t break up the mother and daughter, they have always been very close…and Kai would not even consider taking Reina away from me. Naturally, she wants the best for her daughter.”

“Naturally, but…I thought you two liked each other?”

“We do, I care for her too much, to just…discard her,” he grinned, “or put her in the single women’s quarters…”

Ingari grinned. “We don’t have a Harem…”

“Not yet,” Mitaroa teased.

“I know another woman…”

“No! Please don’t give me anymore concubines, I shouldn’t have accepted Kai…”

“But…”

“No! You’re wrong, Ingari…healthy men, who love their wives, have no need for other women, no matter what the circumstances…”

“You accepted Kai before…”

“Only because I thought I had lost your love, lost you, back then, when…”

Ingari looked away. “I know! When you thought I hated you. I tried so very hard, to hate you…”

“I couldn’t change what I’d done, so I tried to change my life. But it was all pretend…Kai knew I could never really love her, and although she was prepared to live a lie, I wasn’t. Only…by the time I realized it, Reina was born. Another innocent victim in this whole damn mess I’d made of my family.” He paused to stroke her face. “Do you remember…how we’d planned…”

Ingari took his hand and kissed it. “I remember…”

“We were to be married…”

“If you returned…victorious…”

“I could claim my bride…as your father promised!”

“My father…didn’t expect you to be victorious…”

Mitaroa shook his head. “No, Ingari, your father…didn’t expect me to…return!”

Ingari shifted uncomfortably. “Same thing…”

“I was a fool to believe your father…”

“Well…things have worked out, in the end…”

“Hmm! We paid a high price, though…so much bloodshed…even for a warrior like me…sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it…”

Ingari looked at their daughter. “Nothing of value, comes easy…”

Mitaroa looked at their daughter also, who had finally become bored with the adult’s conversation, and was intensely concentrating on her painting. “That’s right…”

“Except…”

“Except?”

“What’s now expected of Hinewai…I mean…look at her, passionately working on her art…she’s not even remotely interested in the army…surely she will not be forced to do something she does not want to do?”

Mitaroa knew his wife was thinking of the unusual interview between grandmother and granddaughter. He remembered when his mother had taken him to visit the barracks regularly as a toddler, getting him used to the smells and sounds of warrior training, sweat and blood…then the day came when she had left him there…how he had wanted to cry…but he hadn’t, as he’d watched her leave him behind with the warriors, because she had told him that they were from a long line of brave warriors, who never cried, no matter what…Mitaroa cleared his throat. “We all have to live out our destiny Ingari, whatever it is…”

“You’re starting to sound like your mother…”

“Where we come from, we have a saying…”

“Oh?”

“Fate is easier to accept, if you don’t fight it…”

Ingari swallowed. “Well, we have a saying too,” she stood and turning from her husband, continued, “what will be, will be…” then she walked out to continue waiting on the balcony.

From there, she could look out onto the main courtyard where a large pond glistened in the sunlight. She sighed. It was a wonderful afternoon, not too hot, not too cool and a gentle breeze played with the soft beaded reed curtains around her. To the left were the main buildings including their own rooms, new, Mitaroa had them built - beyond them she could see the village township and even hear the market traders bargaining, drifting over on the soft, cool breeze. Opposite the courtyard was the largest Whare buildings, her parent’s home, where she’d grown up. Occupied now by her mother and brothers, and a few relatives who had moved in during the last few years, relatives who insisted they were concerned for her mother’s well-being, but who were really interested in whatever possible royal connection they may to the throne since the King’s unfortunate demise. Mitaroa never took over the King’s apartment, in respect for the Queen, Ingari’s mother, although as their leader, he had had every right to.

Beyond that was the main road leading out of the fortress city to the countryside and beyond that, the desert with volcanoes, the great lake, and – the enemy – which to her, meant the rest of the world, trying to get in, trying to take over. Everyone, it seemed, was intent on conquering this place, but nobody, until Riri, decided to bargain for it instead. To the right, with access from that end of the nursery, was the playground, filled with the sounds of toddlers at play. There were a few older girls, but only a couple of boys – most boys joined the army when they turned seven and when girls reached that age they looked after the younger children, as once they turned seven, they were considered old enough to commence simple responsibilities. The boys who were not carted off to become warriors, were considered too academic by their teachers and were taught to become Tohunga – experts in various other fields other than fighting. Occasionally, during peacetimes, children had the chance to learn to be both warriors and other experts such as building or fishing. When war was rampant, all children were taught how to find food, in case they’d find themselves orphaned, and everyone, females and males, were taught some basic self-defense techniques so although there were various roles, they were not strictly adhered to. Everyone should have some basic knowledge of how to find food and defend themselves, for example.

Beyond that were the teacher’s quarters, without classrooms, they taught their students in the nursery, garden, or playground - followed by the servant’s quarters, then the army barracks, and behind them were the stables, with only a few horses so far, but built with the idea of attaining more, surrounded by the crops. Apparently, it was not by chance, the food gardens were near the horse fertilizer - if being slovenly taught them anything, it taught her people to be expedient.

Were they really a lazy people? Ingari wondered as she leaned against the railing, enjoying the sun on her face, or were they just clever? Why make things harder than they needed to be? If there was an easier way, why not do it? She smiled to herself as she remembered Mitaroa’s expression earlier; when she told him her people thought that the newest arrivals from the old lands, his people, were barbaric – albeit the barbarians and the lazy seemed to make a good team.

How things had changed since the arrival of the Mori of Tipu-Aki, the what is referred to as the ‘stop-over’ islands in the great sea – was it only a few years ago? Her husband’s people came as protective warriors, yet already they were dominating their way of life, from the simple marketplace, to the now larger barracks and stable, to the village council meetings - although considered a simple race, within a few years, their influence also affected the lifestyle from the religious temple rites, to culture, and the arts. Her people, who were also originally from Tipu-Aki a long time ago, and lands even further away across the sea, but due to the abundance of birds plants and fish in the area, not much time was needed to hunt or fish, so more time was available to build and decorate their shelters instead, and stories of the grandness of the place reached across the great desert and great lake, which tempted others in the more populated north east areas aware of their seemingly paradisical existence – so much so that some even considered conquering the place - so although they were at the furthest side of the new land, some felt that crossing the lake and desert was worth the effort for a life of plenty and pleasantness – and although her husband’s ancestors had also raided previously, they had not stayed – pillage and plunder and return - upon their return however, instead of bloodshed, they had an offer, they had proven they were great warriors, and would fight their wars, a way in which they could live in peace together, and they were happy to accommodate the newcoming warriors in exchange for protection, because until news of their extravagant existence finally got to the masses northeast across the desert and lake, they had grown used to building and renovating instead and defense training had become almost non-existent compared to those northeast of the great lake - so they were also pleased to let them look after the place while they could sit back and not be influenced by ambition and greed, vices which they believed were bad but, have the Mori Makimoi in fact – while seemingly protecting her people – conquered Manaia and corrupted her people instead? Had the Manaian, who considered themselves to be superior to all other nations, been overcome by a simpler race simply because they themselves no longer knew how to be barbaric?

“Not so barbaric?” Ingari hardly realized she had voiced her thoughts out loud.

“What?” From where he was seated indoors, Mitaroa had not heard what his wife had muttered.

She turned, smiled at her husband, and thought, you’re not so barbaric, but replied, “nothing, just thinking about…everything that’s happened, these last few years…”

“Me too…”

****** ****** ******

A shadow flicked across the broken debris of a long forgotten path, startling the frightened girl – peering around, she realized it was just a cloud passing overhead – that’s when she noticed the sudden drop in temperature and how swiftly the clouds were gathering – she shivered and pulled her wrap closer around herself - she had ventured too far away from her mother, this time – too far away – then she noticed she was all alone – there were no furtive giant Tua or smaller Tua-Tara reptiles lurking around, no Kiwi birds scratching in the shadows, which were hungry enough to wander the outskirts of town in search of any edible crumbs – there were no grumpy old men arguing on verandahs, or disheartened women, or groups of grubby children sitting in doorways – but worse still, there were no - watching eyes – if surrounded by pitiful conditions wasn’t bad enough, she had had to endure those eyes – lots of eyes - on her and her mother, from behind ragged curtains, from between dark doorways, eyes filled with curiosity, fear, envy, and malice, but also hopelessness – even babies had it in their eyes, as they fed at their mother’s breasts – a resigned hopelessness – but there were none of these things, this day…

The eyes were the first things Ingari had noticed about this place, when she was first bought here by her mother, the woman who had previously forbidden her to ever come to ‘the wrong side of town’. Since she had reached a certain age however, they came here regularly, for certain requirements for certain ailments because, according to her mother, their own ‘so-called’ educated doctors not only refused to provide these types of medications, but also denied they contained any genuine beneficial aid, and even doubted the ‘old wives remedies’ existed. So, it was an anxious and confused girl who was dragged through the bustling marketplace and pulled down the dirty lanes of the oldest part of town to consult with – Nahera - her mother’s secret healer – as the mother had also been taken, by her mother –

Every town had its worst area, every worst area had its Makutu healer, and the beautiful Manaian village, was no different. Dilapidated buildings with dark smoky and smelly hovels huddled together on, under and between even spookier remnants of the past – this had once been the original town area, built by their ancestor Manaia, besieged and almost destroyed a few times by the larger tribes across the desert and great lake, who had heard of the bounteous place west end of the land, had considered taking over the place, but realized although pretty, it was too far away from the important communual lifestyle of the large tribes and subtribes of the northeast and considered the vast volcanic desert alone too precarious to seriously consider actually living there after all, but didn’t mind being a bit of a nuisance, just to remind the south westerners that the northeast people were larger and stronger and could conquer at anytime – in actual fact, the north easterners, even when attacking with vast numbers, were never able to conquer the Manaian completely, for not only was theirs’s a village in a large stronghold, they used the mountain, swampy landscape and precarious sandy desert before that, as their best defense – the only reason Mitaroa’s people were successful, twice, was because they attacked from the seaside – still, the first effort, although successful, they knew that their numbers were small compared to the northeastern tribes, so left the Manaian survivors to rebuild, and returned and organized a larger fleet but this later time, to bargain a truce – the sea people would protect the Manaian, in exchange for homes, to be able to live there as well - the Manaian had became rich enough to rise above normal human urges like ambition, greed and war and wealthy enough to pay others to do their work and fight their enemies for them, in the way of providing homes and food – and the Manaian, lovers of fine things and fine living, turned their noses up at the mess they had made of the original abodes and built new dwellings, leaving the war-torn remains to squatters – the wealthier Manaian did not even know who they were anymore, supposedly homeless survivors of the original inhabitants, tribes are usually family relatives, but they could be outcasts from other tribes, deserters, in need of being as close to other humans as possible, thankful for some shelter at all. But there it was, and still is, a place for those who don’t have a place – the wretched, the poor – most managed to scrape some kind of a living together, but those who couldn’t (due to a physical/mental/spiritual disablement) or those who wouldn’t (due to a lack of self-respect/courage/belief) for oneself - at least had some kind of a shelter – and company – and these people also, by default as they just happen to be there, rather than by intention, were protected also, because it happened to be a part of the whole village – so nice or not, desirable or not, the beautiful oasis at the foot of the great mount Taranaki, like every metropolis, also had its dilapidated, sad area.

How long her mother, Akura, had been disguising herself and leaving through a cleverly concealed entranceway that most of the household knew nothing about, Ingari did not know, or ask. Sometimes Akura would go straight to the old woman’s abode, sometimes she’d take the opportunity, while incognito, to wander around unrecognized, and browse and haggle at the market stalls like any ordinary wife or servant, before going to the oldest part of town. Thus, she inadvertently overheard how the townspeople felt about their lot, whether grumbles or praises, which she in turn reported to her husband the King, who in turn had the advantage of preventing any possible protests or revolutionary uprisings, before they even started. So not only did he approve of his wife’s little furtive excursions, but he also encouraged them. He did however organize a discreet group of body-guards to watch over her, which he at first believed she had no knowledge of, but not only was she aware of them, she found added delight to her outings in trying to lose them and, more often than not, she did – simply by discarding an over-robe and wearing a different outfit underneath – this charade of hers made her trips all the more fun for her – at first the guards were afraid to tell her husband, that a little female was able to outwit fully trained security, for fear of losing their jobs or worse still, their lives, depending on the King’s mood – but fortunately for them, her husband always laughed with pride at his wife’s stealth, and jokingly told them to ‘try to keep up, and maybe he should get her to ‘teach them how to guard the little ladies’...

Until that time, Ingari had only known a life at home. Her routine was spent between her bed, perhaps grabbing a quick snack for breakfast, watching over the ‘under sevens’ in the nursery, lessons, which for females consisted mainly of making clothing for family members, and other household crafts such as weaving, basket making, patterned reed wallpaper making, curtains and drapes, with other females and their teachers – the main meal of the day (which was generally a male task as firing up large, deep rock walled oven pits and placing heavy crates of food in them needed strength and also, it was the end of the hunt or fishing tasks so in the Pacific, providing and preparing the main meal of the day was men’s work) was at midday because it took a few hours to place a fire in a deep rock walled underground oven, hunt birds or fish and prepare the food, by this time the fire in the oven should be at a smoldering smoking stage, which the food was then placed in, the ovens were covered, and watered, to then slowly smoke and steam the food. After the main meal of the day, it was considered healthy to rest awhile in the afternoon, and most did.

if particularly interesting for a student, she may also learn to play a musical instrument, she may request to learn to dance, or attempt her hand at drawing, reading and writing (making forms and shapes through dyes or carving), their simple form of hieroglyphics consisted mainly of tribal history, and ancestry, although these skills were usually taken up by males, or the odd female showing no interest in household or women’s pastimes – which wasn’t actually forbidden to females, it was just rare that a female would want to take on any more work in an already busy life, and rarer still, showed an interest for further education.

It was then presumed the older girls return to looking after the toddlers as they rose from their afternoon rest however, often the mothers took this opportunity to spend some time with their toddlers so sometimes, Ingari and the other older girls managed to escape their tasks and spend the few remaining hours of the day playing – mostly in the court-yards or playground, the adults even turned a blind eye if they wandered into the main town square or market-place for a little freedom – occasionally, she and her play-mates ventured out to the surrounding crop-lands – which was not allowed, but the workers never dismissed them and at other times, they’d sneak to the army barracks which was also forbidden, unless you were a male, but again, the warriors never discouraged the children’s visits – they were fairly safe, especially when with the warriors, and they were discreetly watched always, by the King’s guards. Then she’d join the family in the main hall for family time over a small supper, which was usually leftovers of the main meals which were stored in shaded food houses on poles. Sometimes, especially if they had visitors, or were celebrating a special occasion, sharing a meal with guests and important extended family/tribal members, became a party with her immediate family eating at the end of the main room with their guests on either side, and the clear space in the middle would have entertainers perform their varying skills such as acrobatic feats or weapons twirling, mainly the Taiaha spears or rope ball Pois, both, sometimes if the evening was warm enough to eat outside, the entertainers would have flames flaring on the spearhead ends or swinging balls, for added amusement. It was hardly ever the family ate their meals alone, and it was even rarer that the children had to dine in a separate dining area of their own, although there was one, near the nursery – there was a separate dining area for the women too, in between the children’s eating area and the men’s, so the women can keep an eye both on the children and the men - it wasn’t a rule, sometimes men could only get together to discuss important tribal matters while seated to eat at the end of the day, and presumed that the women and children would be bored; and most were, and preferred to speak about female interests; but if some females were interested in tribal matters and had suggestions, they were encouraged to join in the discussions; if not, later, at the end of the men’s meeting, all were invited to join in the evening’s company and often amusements – if not, there was an indoors upstairs balcony overlooking the main hall where the women and children could watch from – but for generations the men felt that the more opinions to consider the better, hence the extra dining rooms were hardly used, and the mezzanine balcony was occupied these days mostly by the servants, so they too, could overhear tribal concerns and enjoy the entertainers - then it was back to bed, for the young Ingari…

At first when Ingari accompanied her mother to the older side of town, Akura stopped playing her ‘hide and seek’ games with the guards – the adult enjoyed those games on her own, and she knew the people were (although unaware of her true identity) getting used to seeing the ‘lady’ on their territory, but she was not prepared to risk her daughter’s safety amongst a possibly envious people – but the ‘mob’ got used to the sight of the younger female accompanying the ‘lady’ and hardly even glanced at them anymore, and Ingari started to look forward to the trysts to her mother’s strange doctor for the concoctions that the ‘real’ doctors of ‘their own’ side of town claimed to have no beneficial medical relief at all. And when women’s business was conducted and her mother lingered to gossip with her unusual friend and sipped on some unusual brew, Ingari found curiosity was overtaking her fear of the ‘wrong side’ of town and bit-by-bit, ventured further and further from the old medicine women’s hovel, discovering curious people, trading the most curious things, from ‘so-called’ remedies to ‘so-called’ charms, and ‘so-called’ delicacies of which she had never seen on her dinner plate, and there were those who (after looking her over suspiciously) were willing to foretell her future in return for one of her bracelets or ear-rings…

It was on one of these trysts, when the mother and her medicine woman were enjoying their foul-smelling brew, that the girl ventured out a little further than normal, when, looking around herself and noticing nothing familiar, realized she was quite lost. Not panicking at first, she’d try one direction, then another, and it wasn’t until she realized her father’s guards, that she wasn’t supposed to know about, weren’t following, that she started to worry. Looking around herself, she wondered if she should ask for directions, when she also realized, she had never taken enough interest in the witch to even remember her name. But now, it seemed, there was no-one around to ask anyway, everyone had disappeared, the doorways, and windows were empty – all empty - of those hopeless eyes –

Ingari had never been on her own before, so it was with a mixture of freedom, and fear, that she decided to start walking in any direction, that sooner or later, she should find her way out of this forgotten section and find those ‘eyes’ again. How comforting they seemed to her now, in their absence, and the girl marveled at how she’d changed – from fearing them, to being scared without them –

A wind blew up, raising the dirt and dust, momentarily blinding her – it was while she was wiping the dirt from her face with the back of her hand that she noticed a dark hooded figure cross her path, and she called out for him to “wait, stop! Please…” and she ran towards the apparition except – it had vanished as quickly as it had appeared and twirling around, she found nothing – no movements – no shadows – no sounds – not even any recent prints in the dust and dirt – and the tiring girl let herself sink to the ground thinking she had imagined it all – that the sudden darkening clouds and shadows were playing tricks with her mind -

That’s when she noticed the stairs – an old and wobbly ladder, but they led to the roof of a vacant but still sturdy looking building – if she could climb up high enough, she may be able to see which way she should go – better still, she might even see the palace, or guard towers - tiredness forgotten, she ran to the structure – but when she took hold of the railing, it broke away at her touch – she leaned against the wall, and tried the first step – it held – so did the second – feeling more confident now, she almost ran up the next few, when a step gave way – she managed to move up on to the next step in time, but all the lower ones tumbled away, leaving her stranded – she had no alternative now except to continue upwards, and hopefully, she would find another way down, or better still, be in a position to see and call out to any guards who must still be in the vicinity, somewhere. But, once on top, she didn’t see any guards, or recognize any place, shape or form, and her surroundings seemed utterly deserted. She turned in every direction, but those spires, columns, and towers she thought she might see from there, were nowhere in sight – she couldn’t even see a tree or hill she recognized – our village is a lot larger than I imagined, she thought despairingly.

“Where are those damn eyes!” She exclaimed to herself, then louder, “where are you?” Then softer, her own eyes filling with tears, “where am I?”

She wandered around the edge of the rooftop, looking for another way down, but there was none. She went back to the staircase, hoping that she might be able to ascend a few stairs then jump the rest of the way, only to find that the few remaining stairs had since collapsed also. But worse was to follow. Backing away from the dangerous gap in the wall where the stairs used to be, the roof gave way under her feet, and with a scream, she started falling – her flailing arms prevented her from falling all the way through however, and hanging on with all the strength she could muster, she attempted pulling herself back up – but with every movement she made, more of the rotting roof gave way –

Then, with a bolt of lightning, the rain finally fell - in torrents.

Ingari looked up to the heavens helplessly. “Oh! Noooo…”

Now, her struggles impossible in the downpour, she slipped through the roof and fell – arms flailing, onto - a man?

A man had caught her – a giant of a man, wearing a long, dark, hooded cloak –

“So…I didn’t imagine you…”

The man did not answer, someone else did. “Well, put her down now…”

Ingari was gently placed onto a strangely clean bunk, in the dirty hovel. She tried peering into the eyes of the man who had caught her, but his face was shadowed by the hood. “Who are you?”

But the large, strong stranger still, did not speak. Something was not quite right. The flax cover on the bunk was still green and she could smell it – newly made, thought Ingari, which seemed out of place in this decrepit part of town. “Where am I?”

“Move out of the way,” that other voice again, “let me look at her…” then the face of an old woman peered around the cloak, and the giant turned, and went outside.

Ingari blinked, but the apparition did not alter its appearance. The small, frail woman in front of her looked too old to be alive – the skin had withered so much, her face looked like a skull already and what was left of the long straggly strands of hair looked as though they had been pulled from the head and clung on by an odd stubborn dreadlock – her Tapa dress was shredded also, and that the remaining pieces did not fall from the skeletal arms and crooked legs was a mystery to the girl – who decided to run from the ghastly specter but, dull, protruding eyes locked into the clear, bright eyes of the child and Ingari’s young limbs disobeyed her. The girl seemed rendered helpless by shock, as if the old woman had hypnotized her into a trance and the only thing that registered in the girl’s mind was – the eyes – those old eyes were not hopelessly resigned like all the others in this area – those eyes were thinking eyes – those eyes were remembering – anticipating – and were strangely expectant, for one so ancient –

“I have been waiting for you, child…”

Now, Ingari found she couldn’t even blink as the hideous head moved closer, “waiting a long time…” then her hands came up in front of the girl, who managed to take her eyes away from the old crone’s and looked at - a headpiece – some kind of war Chief’s headpiece, the girl supposed, clutched tightly between the old, bony fingers. It was old and battered, but amazingly, remnants of the crimson feathered crests remained. Ingari would have laughed if she were not so afraid. For it resembled the skull-like head with its few remaining strands of hair, of its holder.

“A long time ago,” the old woman continued, “many full seasons, they came, the warring seafarers of Tipu Aki came to our land, and unmercifully attacked…it happened so fast, our men hardly had time to pick up a weapon, let alone fight – this ‘wrong side of town’ as you know it, was once a beautiful, magnificent oasis at the foot of the great mountain, when they swept through like a speeding fiery blaze, their roaring war-cry piercing the tranquil, dewy morning air – which swiftly changed to choking, smoking dust – they disappeared as quickly as they had appeared and it wasn’t until the dust settled that the extent of the damage became apparent. Just about everything had been destroyed. It took a long time for the few remaining survivors to re-build, and this area was left so no-one would forget that fateful day – most have forgotten though, the following generations treat those of us who remain in this area with contempt, and avoid this place – everyone that is, except – except Akura, your mother - this headpiece belonged to one of a few of them that we managed to kill, in our feeble defense efforts – I’ve kept it, as a memory of that senseless attack…”

Ingari swallowed. “You…were there at the time?”

“I was about your age, yet I remember it all as clearly as if it just happened…the flash of a Tai-Aha, my mother falling, my father whacking at the crazed warriors with his Toki Titaha wood felling axe, the first thing he could grab…miraculously my father’s axe found its mark…with one strike, a warrior’s head rolled from his body…but my father was Mere clubbed by another warrior, and toppled to his own death on top of the body of the man who had killed his wife, my mother…and with the carnage going on around me, nobody noticed a little girl quietly removing and taking the dead man’s helmet…a memento of the day the enemy destroyed my home, family and village…a memento of my parent’s killers…”

Ingari frowned. “But…why?”

“So that one day, when the time was right,” the woman shoved the headpiece into the girl’s hands, “I could show it to the only person that will one day be in a position to prevent another horrid occurrence from happening to us again.”

“Me?”

“You are blossoming into a beautiful young lady, Ingari…and one day soon, a man is going to ask your father for your hand in marriage…”

“But…” the girl frowned, “I am already betrothed…surely you don’t mean…”

“Everyone knows you’re engaged to Mohaka, the Rauruan, but no, Mohaka is not the man I’m talking about. The man I’m referring to is very strong, brave, and handsome…”

“It doesn’t matter how good looking any man may be, because, unlike most girls in my position, I have been fortunate enough to meet my betrothed already, and Mohaka is the strongest, bravest and handsomest man I have ever met…”

“But the man I’m referring to is also…young…”

“I don’t care! I love Mohaka, and eagerly await the time when we can be together as husband and wife…”

“All the more reason why you must listen to me girl, for your safe future with your beloved betrothed rests with what you do with the information I am about to give you. The best of our star readers - and I don’t mean those you have over on the ‘right side of town’, finery seems to have clouded their sight - have read the stars and agree, that another man is going to come from the sea, into your life Ingari, and only you, have the power to prevent…” the old crone cleared her throat, “…prevent him from conquering our people...”

“What?”

“Only you!”

“But…”

“For your family, for your people…”

“Stop it! Stop this! I don’t believe you...” Ingari screwed up her nose and threw the headpiece back to the old woman. “You’re weird! You’re crazy! You’re a crazy old…” Ingari moved to get off the bunk and intended running for the doorway, when the old woman deftly blocked her way. The girl was astonished at the suppleness and strength of the hideously twisted creature before her, and Ingari hesitated, afraid she would break any of the old woman’s scrawny bones.

The old crone used that moment to hold the headpiece before Ingari’s eyes. “Look at this Ingari, look at it carefully, and memorize it, because the man I’m warning you about is going to come from across the sea, wearing a headpiece. A newer, modern version most likely, but a war headpiece, none-the-less, just like this one…”

Studying the helmet in front of her eyes, Ingari almost believed the woman.

Until the old woman’s next words, “…and when he does, you have to kill him…!”

“Kill him?”

“Most definitely. Use poison, or have someone run a blade through him while he sleeps, whatever…because if you don’t, I predict; you will marry the man who will kill your father, and our people’s lives will never be the same again…”

Ingari shook unsteadily, and her knees gave way, as she felt herself sinking to the ground, the old crone’s face swaying before her…

“You have to kill him, Ingari… you have to kill him…kill him…kill him…”

Then the croaky old voice called for her hooded companion, “Aitua, I am ready to go now…” and as the giant reappeared in the doorway, his hood slipped a little; but enough so the head of a Tua, was the last Ingari saw, as dizzy blackness overtook consciousness…

When she came to, she was in Nahera’s hovel, spread out on a clean bunk with a freshly made flax cover, her mother and friend still focusing over a brazier of embers between them, the smoldering mixture of Puha and other plants wafting around the room. Ingari realized her clothes were dry, and a quick glance out of a nearby window, proved it hadn't rained. She also remembered seating herself on the bunk earlier when they had first arrived. She sighed, relieved to know it had all been a weird and silly dream, probably bought on by the strong remedial aromas in the hovel, and stretched.

“You’re awake,” said her mother, without looking up from the brazier.

Ingari yawned as she sat up, not bothering to answer the obvious.

“Any interesting dreams?” Asked her mother’s strange friend.

Ingari shook her head, not wanting to recount the stupid dream, which was already swiftly fading from her mind. “Why? Did I mumble something in my sleep?”

Without lifting her head, the witch looked at the girl. “No, but the leaves I’m burning are known to cause hallucinations and I was just curious, that’s all, just curious…”

The relief the girl had been feeling was being replaced by suspicion. “Like what exactly?”

“Nothing specifically, but if you did dream, I’d like the opportunity to see if there may be any…hidden messages perhaps?”

“Hidden messages?”

“As you know,” the witch looked enquiringly at the mother, who nodded, implying the healer can continue, so she did, “dreams represent what our subconscious, or instincts, already know and understand, but that our conscious, or analytical minds, have not yet comprehended, as possible. Resulting in the subconscious sending messages which the conscious is not accepting, therefore the term, ‘hidden messages’, which could be important, and contain warnings, if interpreted correctly…”

Visions of the hooded giant Aitua, collector of the dead, the old crone that had refused to go with him until she had given Ingari that horrid prediction, and the war headpiece, crossed Ingari’s mind…”no,” she shook her head, “no dreams, no hidden messages…”

But when her mother said it was time to go home and Ingari rose from the bunk to leave, she gasped…for there at her feet, was the remnant of an old, dilapidated crimson feather. Part of what was left of the crimson feathers on the war helmet. She pretended to bend down to re-clasp her sandal, and when she thought the older women were deep in conversation and would not notice, she picked up the feather and hiding it in her cloak, took it home with her.

On their way, the girl glanced around her, but didn’t see any sign of the hooded Aitua or old crone anywhere, and the streets were dry and dusty, no wet puddles or mud – everything had gone back to normal, skinny lizards slinked in the shadows, there were the grumpy old men, the disheartened women, and groups of grubby children in the doorways – and, Ingari smiled, her and her mother were surrounded by the familiar and now comforting – numerous, curious, watching eyes –

Still on the balcony, looking in the direction of the ‘wrong side of town’, Ingari wondered for the thousandth time if she had indeed seen an Aitua and an old woman there all those years ago – and if it wasn’t for the feather she’d kept for awhile hidden deep down in her belongings, she would have doubted they had ever existed. She hadn’t killed the handsome man from across the sea, wearing the crimson crested headpiece; and although he’d arrived as predicted, she hadn’t believed he would be capable of killing her father. But he had, and also as predicted, she had married him…

Mitaroa gasped as he watched his wife standing out on the balcony. She was facing the ‘wrong side’ of town. He knew she consulted regularly with an old woman over there, as her mother had done before her, but thought the ‘secret women’s business’ harmless, in fact, they probably did her some good, he thought, as he admired the astonishing glossy shine in her hair which he presumed was the result of using some ‘secret women’s’ enhancing tonic but in fact, all she did was rub some Taupata leaves over her hair, to make it shine. He, as her father had, knew she was safe enough, and watched by some of the royal guards, just to be sure. The people there eventually learned the identities of the rich ‘lady’, Ingari’s mother and her daughter (although the older woman hardly visited anymore) and instead of being more suspicious, the people (who had got used to the visitors) were now proud some of the royal women preferred their simple potions to those of the town’s so-called doctors.

At first Mitaroa’s advisers, especially the doctors, thought he should forbid his wife’s trips, but after what he had done to her father, he believed he had no right to tell Ingari what she could, or couldn’t do, and he suspected she wouldn’t listen to him anyway – and, he believed if the people of the ‘wrong side’ had friends from the palace, wealthy friends whose contributions improved their conditions, they were less likely to cause any problems, and were more likely to be loyal allies – and, if there ever happened to be any dissatisfied grumblings or murmurings of discontent, Ingari would probably know of them and inform her husband so, like Ingari’s mother’s husband, instead of forbidding her clandestine visits, he supported them. Even her guards had made friendships there over the years, while they were waiting for their mistresses, and were now accepted as part of the visiting royal entourage.

Mitaroa even considered following her earlier on in their marriage, but he did not want the people there suspect that he was prying, or worse still, spying on them and their affairs, for they knew all her bodyguards already - nor did he want his wife to lose their trust – she was safer, amongst friends. He even considered asking if he could accompany her, just once, but he knew what her answer would be – ‘it was a girl’s thing, girl’s talk’ – he would not understand, and he would probably find it boring’, and she was probably right.

After all these years, her beauty still took his breath away. She only came up to his chin in height, still, she was considered tall for a female, and for her kind. She had the curly thick hair of her kind also, which almost reached her knees – still, it was not quite as long as his mother’s, Riri’s hair flowed around her ankles and had waves rather than curls, with a dark reddish sheen – Ingari’s had a mixture of tawny-brown flecks – she had slender limbs without being bony – also similar to his mother – and she had an olive/brownie complexion which turned into a darker tan during the summer months – his mother’s skin would also have been described as light brown, but her tan, like her hair, had a red glow and due to her lack of clothing and out-doors lifestyle, her tan never faded, no matter what time of the year – so similar yet individual, it was not surprising Mitaroa was attracted to a Riri look alike, after all, his mother had been his guide and advisor for as long as he could remember, even when she had taken him to the army to live. For she had put him in her very own, most trusted, Hapu Hoia regiment.

Mitaroa smiled to himself as he thought of the way their daughter had mimicked his mother earlier – his own very first memory of his mother was of her twirling – pirouetting, her magnificent mantle of hair flowing around her - she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, until Ingari – both had lovely eyes also, large, almond shaped, and dark – but Ingari’s were ever-so-slightly too widely set and ever-so-slightly prominent and her lashes were not as thick, but they were longer – Hinewai had inherited those eyes but incredibly, her lashes were longer still.

His wife had attempted to convert Mitaroa to the Manaian way of worship, and his mother of course insisted he teach Ingari and her people their religious practices – the Gods remained the same, they just had different ways of worshipping them – he didn’t want to hurt either woman, so he practiced neither, and the local priests were too afraid of the strong warrior to remind him to pray occasionally. But he didn’t discourage his people from worshipping either, especially the army, for most humans would not go to war, without faith in their God, or Gods, especially the war Gods, without whose help, they believed would not lead them to victory.

Ingari knew he was watching her and turning to face him, smiled at the man she loved and was supposed to have had killed – and wondered, for the zillionth time, how her life would have been if she had – he was a warrior, who had learned to live by his instincts, and she’d had many opportunities to poison him, but if he’d ever suspected her at any time, he’d never refused the food or drink she’d offered him, as if accepting her right to revenge – and if she’d succeeded in killing him, she would have married Mohaka, Chief of the next but even smaller tribe Rauru, south of here, her betrothed, and her father would most likely still be alive, still be ruling as King – had she done wrong, in letting her father’s killer live, for in doing so, the old crone had been right, their lives, their very existence, had changed dramatically – there had been no repeat of the senseless slaughter that reduced the original city to rubble, in fact, the newcomers protected the natives - but the old crone hadn’t actually predicted there would be a war, just a murder, a marriage, and…a change – and now, she was expected to bear her husband another child – but how many, before ‘the one’ was born – she could not disagree with Riri, because her own people had advised that to bring back a proper King, her daughter must lie with the Lord of the underworld – but she and her husband had presumed that would have been Hinewai – Riri was a very ambitious woman, and had successfully managed to put her son in charge, but Riri also knew that he could never be the people’s King, even though he’d married their princess – that the only way to properly establish the newcomer’s rule in the new land, was to have one of their daughter’s give birth to a Half-God – Ingari sighed – she wished with all her heart that she could, but she was not strong enough for childbearing, and there was nothing the doctors, including the witch from ‘the wrong side of town’, could do to help – unless - she could still kill him, instead – she laughed out loud, at the impossible thought -

Mitaroa actually stopped breathing for a moment – she had always had a way about her that made him feel unworthy of her – that made him feel grateful for any attention from her, even if it was only the dimpled smile that he fell in love with from that very first time she had turned to him, and smiled that amazing smile – which his instincts warned him, was a smile both of love, and scorn – but that was when they first met, he hadn’t done anything to deserve the scorn back then, but he’d always felt it, especially when wearing his Chief Warrior headpiece, and his warrior instincts had never been proven wrong. After having killed her father, he expected her revenge, he expected it still, and he waited for her strike, and would not try to defend himself, if it ever came – he thought of their very first meeting…

“Wait,” it was Tohu, Mitaroa’s weapons bearer, “put on your breastpad…”

“It’s hot today, Tohu…”

“You must approach the King in full uniform…”

Mitaroa waited impatiently as Tohu fastened the padding in place, then started towards the city entrance again.

“Wait, your headpiece…”

“It’s too hot for that…” but the impatient warrior waited while Tohu adjusted the feathered headpiece in place. “Can I go now?”

“Here’s your Tai-Aha spear…”

“Now this is ridiculous…”

“OK, perhaps your Waihaika club…”

“Really?”

“If you want to be taken seriously, you can’t go before the King, looking like a half-naked…”

“Barbarian?”

Tohu nodded, his soft dark brown curls bouncing around his face.

Mitaroa laughed but looked away from the adoring face before him. He knew why Tohu first applied for this job, Tohu had hoped to keep Mitaroa from getting lonely at night, when at war, and away from home. But Tohu’s attempts of seduction had failed to date; still, Mitaroa had never humiliated his weapons bearer, or fired him, and Tohu seemed happy to continue living his life at the side of the most famous warrior of the even more infamous mother, however slim the chance - Mitaroa may one cold night, warm to his companion’s embrace. And Mitaroa had to admit, a warrior often spent more time at war than at home, and although most Hapu Hoia had some female warriors, his hadn’t, yet – his didn’t even have the usual accompanying group of female sexual followers, and after generations of men living and relying on other men, homosexuality was inevitable – most weapons bearers realized that that could be a part of the job, and ironically, physical bonds not only served to satisfy the individuals, they also seemed to strengthen the team, so it had become an acceptable part of army life, not forced, but not discouraged either – some though, and Mitaroa was one, had always found the odd female in the even odder towns, enough – until now – they had just spent a long time at sea - he turned back to his trusty friend and smiled. “We’ve been together for some time now Tohu, you and I, and we’ve come a long way …”

Tohu smiled back. “And if everything goes as your mother planned, this is the end of our journey…maybe the end of our…relationship?”

Mitaroa grinned. Theirs had never been anything other than an army alliance. Tohu grinned too, pleased that his boss had a sense of humor.

Mitaroa placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’re here to protect this place Tohu, I will still require the services of a faithful weapons bearer…”

“I am very good at all weapons bearing skills; Mita, but due to the folly of my master, some are quite unpracticed…”

Mitaroa loved the way Tohu said his name, he softly breathed it, the shortened version of the name his mother had given him, which was Mitaroa, after her grandfather, apparently – due to the length, Tohu’s shortened version, Mita, was used mostly now, among his warriors. “Yes,” Mitaroa replied, “I have a lot of friends, but I know you really do care for me…”

Tohu blushed. “And still hope…”

Mitaroa resisted the urge to take his friend into his arms. “There’s always hope…”

Tohu sensed possible consent at last, in his master’s manner. “There’ll be…the usual celebrating after ceremony?”

“I suppose so, I’m not sure of the practices of our new home, yet…do you feel like partying?”

Tohu looked at the mouth of promise and nodded. “With you…?”

Mitaroa did not turn away in embarrassment, this time. “Of course…” then before he could change his mind, he made his way to the front of the formation of the powerful Makimoi.

Tohu was so excited that at last, he might have the lover he had waited so patiently for; for so long, that he raced ahead and joined the crowds of Manaian waiting on either side of the main street leading to the main square, to welcome their new army. Not satisfied with being among the townsfolk, he pushed further forward, excusing, and pardoning himself until he found a suitable place near the end of the square, as close as he could get, to the awaiting royal dais. That way, he could watch his beloved master, in all his glory, enter the beautiful Manaian village, and approach their King. He wanted to see what the Manaian, especially the important people of this place, would see. He wanted to share their admiration and awe at the first sight of the famous great warrior and his army, who had traveled a long way, to protect them from their enemies. Tohu wanted to beam proudly at the sight of his love, for he was sure that everyone would feel as he, when he had first encountered the muscular hero. And he wanted to be one of the first to welcome Mitaroa, even if only by his stupidly grinning face, into this, their lovely new home, at the base of the amazing mountain...

And beautiful it was, he and Mitaroa had stood on their boat for a moment in awe earlier, when without warning, as they approached in their boats over the last of many, many waves, there it was, tall with snow at the top, glistening in the bright sun – taller than any other mountain that they’d ever seen, and larger at the base which stretched out into the sea, than their own little island, an amazing phenomenon which, they knew, was still a small part of this large island southwest of the setting sun…from their own land, they’d set off using the old ‘southwest of the setting sun’ route in the evening, and then watched the appropriate stars, and how the sea changed, and looked out for birds, another indication of land nearby, as noted by the first discoverers of this mystical new land in the southwest of the great sea – if they’d arrived on the east coast, they’d have to sail north again and around the tip and keep sailing southwards until the great mountain was sighted – but as luck would have it, they arrived at the very tip, and kept going south on the west of the land, keeping the land just in sight, as they didn’t want to be possibly sighted by the people that were the enemy to the people that they had been employed to protect – even though most of this new land was still only mostly inhabited on the north eastern side, the side that the first discoverers landed on – still, they didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances - when the boats were beached and fastened at the seaside base of the great mountain, they still had to walk by foot to the home fortress village of the Manaian at the inland base of the majestic mountain, which made them feel exposed to those warrior guards watching them from on the top of the foothills, cliffs and village walls – obviously built to prevent another earlier attack by Mitaroa’s ancestors – if they made it to the entrance, hopefully, a peace alliance suggested and organized by his mother, which was really another way of conquering, but a beneficial way to both people, could take place.

And now, a gasp did emerge from the natives, as Mitaroa entered their village, followed by cheers and welcoming chanting – but - even above the welcoming shouts and applause of the Manaian people, Tohu heard another gasp, this one strangely – different – coming from the royal platform – he turned and saw – a lovely young lady – the King’s daughter, Tohu presumed, with eyes – dark eyes - fixed on Mitaroa, momentarily bent over as though she were about to faint, clutching at her stomach as if in pain, then – before anyone else noticed, compose herself again – only he could see at this angle, that her knees were still shaking, her hands clenching and unclenching, and her breast was heaving with every breath – almost as if – she recognized the hero? Surely not – his mother had been here before, but not Mitaroa – and she looked too young – too innocent – too delicate - to have ever been anywhere – but before he could ponder on the girl’s weird reaction, a traditional ‘welcome yet be wary’ inaction was performed by the Manaian lead warrior, Mitaroa picked up the peace ‘fern of freedom’ offering that the lead warrior had placed between them, after which the lead warrior stepped aside along with other guarding warriors to make way for the newcomers to approach their king. The king rose, the crowd settled down to listen to his welcoming speech, Mitaroa, ever the charming showman smiled at the people, they, happy to be noticed by the famous and attractive new-comer threw Pohutukawa flowers at him, he actually picked up one, waved at the crowd in return, and then, noticed the princess –

Tohu looked at her again then, too, and wondered at the astonishing difference – her knees were no longer shaking, her hands were calm now, no, the fingers of one were ever so slightly clutching at her gown, and the other was resting on the back of her father’s high seat, as if to steady herself? The breast was no longer heaving though, and she smiled – Tohu’s heart sank – for it was the most beautiful dimpled smile – white pearly teeth, the two front ones ever-so-slightly too prominent, with an ever so slight gap – and full lips, that were swollen in the middle which gave the impression they may have been stung, because it was not an oversized large, wide mouth – Tohu turned his head to Mitaroa, his beautiful Mitaroa, but he knew what he would see before he even saw it – Mitaroa was ashamedly staring at the girl – as if her parents weren’t even there, as if in a trance, as if having difficulty looking elsewhere – it must have been obvious to everyone, the magnetism between the hero and the princess – the King was visibly irritated at the arrogant young man, yet felt obliged to introduce them - the queen’s annoyance showed on her face, but she was helpless to do anything about the unmistakable attraction between a royal and a warrior, in front of her people, in front of the new-comers – the two older princes, her brothers, instead of worrying about their younger sister’s maidenhood, immaturely smirked with amusement at the scene - Mitaroa, for the first time in his life, was speechless – and Tohu, heartbroken -- yet - something else nagged at him – he told himself the girl must have been smitten at first sight – but his instincts told him otherwise – he looked at the girl again – but not at her knees this time, or her hands, or smile, he studied the eyes – so lashful, that they looked dark – no, they were dark – was she really returning Mitaroa’s brazen desire? Yes, he thought so, Mitaroa was tall, dark, and handsome, what woman wouldn’t? But - did he read something else there as well? Something sinister? Or was his jealousy playing weird games with him? Should he warn Mitaroa? Would the obviously smitten hero believe him? Tohu knew his master so well – Mitaroa had bedded many women, but he had never looked at any like this – no, the hero would not believe the weapons bearer over the gorgeous girl – but Tohu cared about Mita so much, that he knew he had to try to warn him, regardless of the out-come -

But Tohu was right, later in their quarters, nicer quarters than their rooms back home, Mitaroa refused to believe him, refused to let anything spoil this new, overwhelmingly intoxicating feeling that must be love – Mitaroa could not stop thinking of the dimpled smile, Tohu could not either. “Yes, she is very pretty, but…”

“But what?”

“She…she smiled with her mouth only, Mitaroa…her eyes…her eyes were…”

“Eyes don’t smile, Tohu…”

“No, but you can tell, if they are happy, or sad…”

“So…what were her eyes? Happy, or sad?”

“That’s the weird thing, they were neither…”

“You’re not making any sense. How much did you drink tonight?”

“Nothing!” Tohu was blinking back tears. “I didn’t feel like partying tonight, after-all…”

Mitaroa had never promised there could ever be anything other than friendship between them. Even when he finally considered the possibility, before his grand entrance earlier, he never verbally agreed anything might develop, albeit he knew he’d hinted at it, and sighed. “I’m sorry Tohu, I didn’t mean to ‘lead you on’…”

“I almost had you though, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you almost had me…”

Tohu managed to smile. “Liar, but thanks…for letting me down gently…”

“I know it unusual, in our…sensual society, but I was never that way inclined…even when I first joined the army as a boy, I was left alone, as if…the others knew I was genuinely not interested, and respected my wishes…”

“Or they were afraid of your mother…”

Mitaroa laughed. “Or that…”

A moment of quiet passed between them, then Tohu changed the subject. “Does this mean I have to leave your service?”

“Certainly not! Unless…you’d rather?”

“We’re a good team, you and I…”

“I agree, now go to bed, I’m tired, and wish to sleep…”

Tohu started to leave, then hesitated.

“Yes?” Enquired Mitaroa, while yawning.

“I remember, now…”

“Huh?”

“Her very first reaction, was one of…recognition!”

“Are you sure you haven’t been drinking?”

“I know it sounds crazy…”

“Maybe she just…recognized a great catch when she saw one…”

They laughed.

“Maybe…” Tohu knew he was defeated. He’d tried, and hoped for his friend’s sake, that he was wrong.

When he left however, Mitaroa did not immediately go to sleep – the last thing he had expected upon arrival was to meet a woman and fall instantly in love – not as soon as he’d stepped into town, anyway – in fact he hadn’t lied to Tohu, as Tohu thought he was being let down gently, only moments before parading down the main street, he had been thinking of his weapons bearer, and was wondering what it would be like, to celebrate later, in his friend’s embrace – then he had seen the girl – at first, Mitaroa now recalled, she did seem a little – stunned – was Tohu right? Should he be wary of the beautiful stranger who had smiled so innocently yet also so alluringly? Who had taken the Kawa drink from a servant and had filled his goblet herself, too much, he now imagined? Who had laughed at his silly jokes, also too much, maybe, he now imagined? Who had let him lead her into an anti-chamber for a little privacy, only to flirtatiously pull away from his hold, he’d thought it was because her family were watching at the time, but was it really because she was in fact disgusted by his touch? But he’d also noticed that she did not leave his side throughout the festivities - Oh Ingari, what are you doing with me? What do you really want? Then he smiled, as he remembered a favorite saying of his mother’s; ‘keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer’ and, with her beautiful yet disturbing smile on his mind, he told himself he would do just that, and drifted into a myriad of delightful - and deadly – dreams -

Right then Ingari came back into the nursery, disturbing Mitaroa’s thoughts. “They’ve been together for a long time…”

“Poor Reina. I hope mum’s not interrogating the girl…”

“Could…could she actually be…the one?”

Mitaroa looked fondly at their daughter, then gently pulled his wife down beside him. “I still can’t believe she doesn’t think it’s Hinewai…I’ve never understood my mother, I don’t think I ever will…”

“I wish I was a strong woman, like Riri…”

“You…want to fight?”

“Of course not! I meant…” Ingari looked longingly at her daughter, “more admirable, influential…”

Mitaroa wanted to tell his wife not to be jealous of his mother, he wanted to tell her that their daughter loved her, but he could not lie. “Be patient, mum won’t be here for long, and Hinewai’s young…you two have plenty of time to get to know each other…”

“Yes…” Ingari agreed, but both didn’t believe it, as they watched the girl who had forgotten they were even there, focusing on her work.

“I was just remembering when we first met,” Mitaroa kissed his wife’s hand.

She blinked at him. “Me too…having your mother here, meeting…her granddaughters, it’s only natural to think back, to how it all began…”

“Yeah…I remember bragging to my comrades, that you were going to be my wife…”

“I remember telling my friends, that you were big-headed…”

“My friends all laughed at me, of course…and I laughed the loudest…at the impossibility of it all…you, a princess; and me, a warrior…”

Ingari looked away and gulped. “Wearing…a red crested headpiece…”

“You…never liked, that headpiece…”

Ingari did not respond.

“I used to think it was because you are so kind, and gentle, that you couldn’t bear the thought of…what I do for a living…”

Still no response, so Mitaroa continued, “you were so sweet, so innocent…yet it was you, Ingari, who…started it all…”

She couldn’t hide her smile as she turned back to him. “I did not!”

“Yes, you did, from that very first night…it was you, instead of a servant, who kept plying me with Kawa…”

Her smile faded. Yes, Ingari sighed to herself, I insisted I serve you personally that night, but…I could not add the poison, as I’d intended…

It was indeed Ingari who had started the impossible romance, who, within days of Mitaroa’s arrival, hidden by heavy veils - went to his room soon after she’d supposedly retired, and for a while, the princess and warrior courted in secret – and for a while, they even managed to keep it a secret – for a while –

At first, her intentions had been to get him alone, get him drunk, get him drugged – fatally – since her earlier attempts on that first evening had failed – he, of course, knew of only one reason a female would go to a man’s room with a gourd of Kawa in the middle of the night, and within minutes his expertise had the inexperienced girl trembling at the knees - the strong Kawa drink forgotten, the lethal urn slipping from her grasp, and shattering on the floor –

But, there were many suitable and eligible suitors who wanted the Princess and the position that marrying a member of the royal Manaian family would bring – in fact, her parents had betrothed their daughter to the Chief of the next tribe south of them, the Rauru, another small tribe, Mohaka known as Haka, although he was an older man, he was still attractive, and loved the girl (not a difficult task) she was not only pretty, she was confident, intelligent and part of the most powerful family in the region – he would have been a patient, understanding and considerate husband and before meeting Mitaroa, Ingari had also been keen for the union – but when she met the tall, dark and handsome foreigner she was supposed to murder, all girlhood thoughts of her betrothal disintegrated – along with her virginity –

So it was that one-day Ingari’s father Hemi, sent for Mitaroa. Mitaroa knew he was in trouble, for the King had arranged an escort of twelve (although worried, Mitaroa was flattered to think Hemi thought less than that amount would not be enough) to accompany him, and this had never happened to Mitaroa, the people’s favorite hero, when summoned before.

But it was a smiling King that greeted the young man – which Mitaroa found at first confusing, then his fine-tuned warrior instincts made him suspicious of the old man who smiled with his mouth only, while the eyes remained icy cold – the older man bade the younger one sit and share refreshments with him. Mitaroa did not feel like eating and drinking, he even suspected the food or drink offered to him might be poisoned – but surrounded by the escort still, he decided he’d better have something, and if this was the end of his life, so be it, it had been an adventurous life – from northeast of the great Moana sea, to the southwest….

For a while Hemi did not speak, so both faced each other in silence – then the King signaled for the escort to leave and when they did, he cleared his throat, and started. “My daughter, thinks she’s in love with you…”

Oh, no, was Mitaroa’s first thoughts. They had got to her first. What did they do to her? What did she say? Hemi watched Mitaroa. He seemed to be expecting some sort of reply. To deny it now, would be to insult the King’s intelligence – and to insult the King’s intelligence, could be fatal. Mitaroa put on what he hoped would be both a surprised and hopeful expression. “Oh really? She said that?”

“She not only admitted it,” the King’s smile had gone, “she broke off her engagement to Mohaka!”

Mitaroa swallowed. He had had no knowledge of any betrothal. Why hadn’t Ingari told him about it? And during his short stay here, he’d heard of Mohaka, whose reputation as an experienced, ferocious old warrior of Rauru, south of Manaia, was widespread in this new land. He frowned. “Mohaka? The old man?”

The King’s voice softened, yet there was no denying, he was angrier than ever. “Yes!” A loud whisper. “There was supposed to be an alliance! A marriage! Celebrations! But now, because of you…he’s threatening war!”

Mitaroa choked on his drink. Yet even in this dangerous predicament, he’d never felt happier. Ingari had risked her parent’s wrath, and war, for him. “But…” he started slowly, “how is this possible? I’ve never heard of a woman breaking off a betrothal before…”

The King’s fury showed in his heavy breathing, and the way he observed the young man before him. “What would you suggest? Should I…beat her perhaps? Lock her away under guard? Force her to marry? Why she…she would never forgive me…”

Ahh, thought Mitaroa, the father could not bear the daughter’s scorn – this man was obviously close to his daughter, close enough to know Ingari was intelligent, and close enough for her to be respected, as a fellow human being with strong thoughts and views of her own….

The men sat for a moment in silence, glaring at each other.

The King supposed he could not blame his daughter, for Mitaroa was quite striking. He had the broad shoulders and muscular body that was characteristic of most men from Tipu-Aki, along with the typical lustrous hair, of the wandering sea-people. “Your mother…” did the King’s eyes soften ever so slightly? “…Riri is very ambitious, she also uses her beauty to gain power…”

Mitaroa had always suspected his mother would ‘stop at nothing’ to get what she wanted, but he did not know how she negotiated business, nor did he want to know. What he did know, was that he owed his status in life, to her. “She…knows what she wants, and goes for it…”

“And obviously, you have inherited…not only her good looks, but her ambitious nature also!”

“No, you’re wrong, I’m nothing like her…”

“It was her idea you come to Manaia. Was it also her idea you become its next ruler?”

“What? No!” But Mitaroa had to wonder if that were true, she never shared all her thoughts and plans with him. “What do you mean? How could that be anyway? You have sons…two sons…”

“Who cringe at the sight of you…”

“Me? Their…fears…have nothing to do with me…”

“You think?”

How does one say the King’s sons were cowards long before the newcomers arrived? “I don’t know what their problem is, but it is none of my business!”

“You’re right, it’s not!” Looking at the successful and courageous young man before him, the King almost wished Mitaroa was his son, but continued reluctantly, “my sons, and my daughter, especially my daughter, are none of your business. They, have nothing to do with you!”

“But…”

“Nothing!”

For a moment, Mitaroa glared at the King, then bowed his head. “Are you going to send me back?”

“Back to mummy?” Was that fear in the King’s voice? “What will Riri do about that, I wonder? Send more of you to kill us instead of protect us now?”

Mitaroa felt a little more confident. “What do you think she will do if you kill me?”

“Kill you? Oh, no, I don’t want to kill you. No, I have something else, in mind for…the people’s hero…”

Mitaroa never made excuses for his actions, and he wasn’t going to start now. Nor was he going to deny his love. If Ingari was willing to rebel against tradition for him, he would also admit his love for her, and face the consequences. Even if it meant death. For although Hemi said he hadn’t intended killing him, Mitaroa did not trust his employer. He had been a warrior long enough to recognize hatred in the eyes of an enemy. He cleared his throat, about to declare his love for the King’s daughter, about to plead with the King to at least consider the possibility of a match between the people’s hero, and the princess…

But the King didn’t give him a chance. “Mitaroa, I have a proposition for you…”

“Oh?”

The King’s composure seemed a little calmer now. “Yes. I have given this…rather incongruous situation some thought…”

Mitaroa shifted uncomfortably on the floor.

The King smiled at the young man’s discomfit.

Mitaroa took another sip of his drink.

“You are famous, Mitaroa, famous…the people love you, you…are the people’s hero…”

“I…only do my job…” did the King realize it not so absurd for the people’s hero to be with the people’s princess after all? Mitaroa could not help but hope.

“What I meant was, you can have your choice of the Manaian women…in fact, you can probably have most of the Manaian women…”

Mitaroa shook his head. “No…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…I don’t want any other woman. I mean…I love Ingari…”

“What?”

“I…I’m in love with her. We love each other…”

“How dare you!” The King’s anger returned, “how dare you! Don’t you think I don’t know your reputation? How dare you presume you can add my daughter to your…your long list of broken hearts!”

“What? No!”

“You’re a womanizer! Philanderer!”

“No!”

“Heartbreaker!”

“No! No! No!”

“No?”

“No! I used to be. I’m not! Not anymore!”

“Are you denying you seduced my daughter?”

Mitaroa could have told the King it was the other way around, but how do you tell a father that about his own daughter? He did not answer.

“Well, at least you don’t deny it, so…what do you suggest I do with you?”

“Huh?”

“If you were me, in my situation, what would you do?”

“Let me see now…you don’t want to send me back home, nor do you want to execute me…”

“You have a scary mother…”

“You can have me flogged…”

The King nodded.

“In public…”

“Yes…”

“You can have me castrated…”

“Now that’s a good idea…”

“In private, please…”

“Anything else?”

“Or, you can just let the hero…marry the princess…”

“Just?”

“Just!”

The King took a drink without taking his eyes off the young man. “I suppose there really is no alternative…”

Mitaroa thought he’d heard wrong. “Eh?”

“I suppose I can let the hero marry the princess, but, not just, oh, no! You must earn the right, to marry my daughter…”

Mitaroa was speechless.

“I should have known it would happen…when the messengers arrived saying you and your men had arrived, it was me, who told the whole town we have to assemble in the main street, and the town square, dressed in our finest, it was me, who encouraged our women to collect flowers, and show gratitude to our brave new protectors…” the King laughed ironically, “me! I gathered my family together on the royal dais, on the porch steps of the palace, to welcome you, to celebrate…not realizing at the time, that my daughter also, wanted to show how grateful she was as well…I guess I have to be thankful, at least she chose the…captain of the army…”

Mitaroa still, had nothing to say.

The King signaled a waiting servant and ordered some more Kawa to be brought in. While they were waiting for it to arrive, the King explained, “so we can drink to…your pending marriage.”

Mitaroa frowned. “So…what’s the catch?”

The King leaned back in his chair. “Destroy Mohaka!”

“What?”

“Well, we have no choice now, do we?”

“I thought…”

“What did you think? Did you just think you can…defile his fiancé and everything would be just…” Hemi shrugged, “Fine?”

“No, I didn’t know about Mohaka, and their betrothal…but I do know, he is not an enemy of yours…”

“No, he wasn’t. At least, not since the…betrothal. We two small tribes helped each other against the larger combined enemy tribes across the lake. But what would you do, if you were him? If you’d waited for years until Ingari was old enough, only to have her end up with some young…foreigner?”

Mitaroa cleared his throat. “I’d declare war!”

“Exactly!”

“Sorry!”

“It’s too late, to be sorry…you caused this problem, now you fix it!”

The Kawa arrived, and the men sat in silence while their drinks were being poured.

Mitaroa took his and gulped it down in one swallow, then held his cup out to be re-filled again, before the servant left.

The King sipped on his Kawa, watching the young warrior with mixed emotions. If only Mitaroa had been born a prince, instead of the son of a very ambitious woman who was indeed a self-made famous warrior, but apart from that, according to rumor, a nobody. Apparently, she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or, in her case, the right place at the right time. Witnessing her people being slaughtered in battle, she ran amidst the fighting, tried to help and miraculously, she did – they won - and the surviving warriors were so grateful for her help at the time that they agreed, that if she was going to fight alongside them, she’d better learn how to fight properly – that’s how she earned the right to be in the army, to be in a man’s occupation – otherwise, she was nothing – just a very skilled fighter – who also happened to be a very beautiful woman, whose beauty and probably exaggerated legendary battlefield skills, intrigued men by the hundreds, hoping to be accepted into her army, willing to die for her. But she was not royal. A descendent of famous heroes and heroines perhaps, but not royal. Not even a tribal chieftain’s daughter. But what was royal anyway? One of his forefathers, also from the sea, had conquered this land, and married a native princess – was history repeating itself? Only this time, the clever young conqueror has come to protect his new land and people, instead of annihilating it – and he himself, the King, had agreed to it, had, like many men, found it impossible to reject the beautiful Riri - and her clever idea, that some of her vast army, led by her own son, could look after his people and property from his many enemies. The King supposed he should support the idea of the people’s hero and his daughter – but he loved Ingari so much – not so much at first, when she was born and he was informed ‘it was a girl’ – he’d shrugged and hardly noticed she was alive, until - bit by bit, over the years, he’d witness her outsmart her two older brothers, who would giggle at winning games and pout at losing them – that’s when he started taking more notice of the lovely little girl – and they’d ended up so close – he’d first thought no-one would be good enough for her – until Mohaka – yes, he had no doubt, Mohaka loved her, and would look after her – and the two provinces would become one large nation – stronger than ever, against the nations that forever threatened their borders – but now – his daughter, the light of his life, says she cannot live without this – cocky young philanderer –

“You don’t like me much, do you?” Mitaroa interrupted the King’s thoughts.

“I did, actually, you’re a brave and skillful young man…”

“But I’m not good enough for your daughter!?!”

“That’s right, you’re not!”

“Well, if brave and courageous are not the qualities you’re looking for in a son-in-law, what are?”

“Those qualities are exactly what I’m looking for in a son-in-law, and Mohaka has those…I don’t want Ingari to end up with a man who is such a playboy, that his reputation arrived here, long before he did…”

“News travels fast. But then…” Mitaroa cleared his throat, “you will be pleased to know, that because of your daughter, I am no longer interested in any other women…”

“You’d better not be. She deserves to be happy. She deserves to be loved…”

“Yes, she does…”

“She thinks you make her happy…”

“She makes me happy…”

“Then…you’d better do something about…Mohaka!”

It took a moment for realization to hit. “Mohaka…has never been beaten…right?”

The King almost smiled. “I’m impressed…you’ve done your research, on this area…”

Mitaroa almost smiled. “I’m impressed…you can’t send me back home to my mother, and you can’t execute me…but you can send me to die on the battlefield…”

“That’s your job, isn’t it?”

“But…what if I don’t…die?”

The King laughed. “Oh, you’re good, Mitaroa, I’ve heard of your exploits in the islands, but…you’re young! Mohaka has been fighting for a very, long time…”

Mitaroa leaned forward on his position on the floor, closer to the King on his raised royal dais. “Then you’d better pray we do win, because if we don’t…a not very happy Mohaka will come here, after the King who sent us to kill him, after you!”

The King gulped. He’d thought that after getting rid of Mitaroa, Mohaka would come and claim his bride, and life would continue as planned. But what if Mitaroa was right? If he himself was Mohaka, that’s exactly what he’d do…”

Mitaroa raised his goblet. “Still want to drink to my…marriage?”

The King hesitated, then raised his goblet. “To Mitaroa and Ingari. And, to your victory!”

“Yea, right!”

“Because…If you do return victorious, not only will I give you my daughter’s hand in marriage, I will also give you…my kingdom!”

And it came to pass – Mitaroa did return victorious – the thought of Ingari’s fate - at the hands of a revengeful Mohaka – gave him no choice. It was his fiercest battle yet, and he led his army as though her life was at stake, which, in fact, it was – even if Mohaka found it in his heart to be merciful – she would not be treated like the precious pure girl he’d waited so long for – she’d be treated like the defiled woman of a scheming family, maybe scorned, or worse, imprisoned, maybe killed – he seemed to summon the strength and stamina of a thousand men – he fought like a man gone mad – as if he also felt as though he had to protect his men from paying for his crime – for it was not their fault, that he’d fallen in love with a princess – not their fault, she’d been engaged to some-one else – not their fault, that that some-one else was the unbeatable, and very experienced Mohaka – Mitaroa was determined the woman he loved would not be subjected to terror – Mitaroa was determined to return without any casualties – and his mad determination proved to be contagious – his whole army got carried away with their leader’s torrid attack – in his mind he had to be invincible – he had to protect her, and them – in turn, in their minds they were convinced he was invincible, and so believed they were invincible as well – and incredibly, Mohaka’s men felt it too, and for the first time in his life, Mohaka and his men doubted they’d win, and lost.

Mohaka escaped though, or so it appeared, what really happened, was that Mitaroa took him prisoner and on their way home, let him go. Although none of the Makimoi were killed, or had sustained any life-threatening injuries, Mitaroa felt responsible for the war, felt guilty because of his lust for another man’s fiancé, and felt accountable for so many of Mohaka’s men, who had been slain on the battlefield because of it. Enough blood had been shed for his, and Ingari’s affair. Mohaka had been betrayed and had every right to declare war. Mitaroa knew Hemi would not spare Mohaka’s life; his, was a King who’d ‘get rid’ of any potential problems before they became any real concerns. Had Mitaroa known about the betrothal, would he have been able to refuse Ingari? He liked to think he was strong enough, but deep down, he knew, probably not – he would have broken all the rules to be with her either way – and now, men had died because of their love – so Mitaroa decided to meet with his prisoner –

When he reached the guarded makeshift tent, he told the guards to leave, and wait at a distance, that he would speak with Mohaka alone. On Mitaroa’s orders, Mohaka had been stripped of all adornments and clad only in his loin cloth, was tied between two of the main support posts and when Mitaroa entered, for a moment, the two warriors studied each other in silence. Mitaroa gulped. Had he known the older man before attacking, he may not have been so confident in his assault. Mitaroa was not a small man, but the powerful sight of Mohaka made him feel insignificant. Mohaka would have been a handsome man once, and was still attractive, despite the numerous scars accumulated during his life as a brutal warrior – and instead of disfiguring the man, they accentuated his striking presence.

“I’d offer you a seat,” Mohaka broke the silence, “but as you can see, my humble shelter, like me, has been stripped bare…”

“Don’t tell me you’re cold,” it was a hot day, “if it was the other way around, wouldn’t you like to see that I was completely…unarmed?”

“While…strung up?”

“Can’t be too careful…”

“You didn’t take long to learn the Maori language…”

“It’s very similar to my own…”

“Probably because Hemi’s lineage, goes back to the Sea People, also…”

Mitaroa was too astonished to answer.

“You didn’t know, did you?” Mohaka grinned. “Didn’t you wonder at the name? Api’Hemi? It’s not Rauruan, nor Awhian, or any of the tribes on the other side of Aotearoa either…”

“Oh, ah…no…I mean yes…so it is…” Mitaroa felt inexperienced and unlearned, face to face with this older man…

Mohaka laughed. “Well, we’re all from the sea originally, but it was so long ago, that I wondered if we’d still understand each other’s words…?!?”

“I haven’t been here long, but so far, so good…”

Mohaka stopped laughing. “You may have just won a relative to marry…oh that’s right; you ‘sea people’ practice incest…don’t you? To keep the royal blood pure? Rather than couple with the lower classes?”

Mitaroa chose to ignore the jibe. “So; let me get this straight…Api’Hemi Is…his birth name?”

Mohaka nodded.

“But…once their leaders are chosen, whether they’re crowned kings or not, aren’t they given a new name?”

Mohaka’s smile left his face. Mitaroa wasn’t as simple as he’d suspected. “He was, he was given the name Okorotua, but he prefers Hemi…”

Mitaroa grinned. “Well, I don’t blame him, where I come from, Okorotua, means old man…”

Mohaka also grinned. “Yea, he wasn’t young when he became King, but here, it means special…”

“Worse…a special old man…”

“Well, he’s the king, and can…not only change traditions, but he can also, change his mind…”

Mitaroa’s grin disappeared. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t trust him,” Mohaka sniggered, “for someone who’s seen a lot of the world, and is a war hero, you’re so…naive, so young, just a…boy! The lovely Riri’s kid…”

Mitaroa swallowed. “You…know my mother?”

“Who doesn’t?”

Mitaroa frowned. “She…gets around…”

Mohaka grinned. “She’s a smart lady…out of all the men that have conspired to overtake the beautiful Manaia, including me, she just drops in one day and says she’ll send her son there to look after the place…as simple as that…why didn’t anyone else think of it? Why not any of the other tribes? We men, we think everything must be solved on the battlefield…just as well there’s only one of her, imagine whole armies of females, and their devious minds…”

“She’s encouraging females to fight, says they should not rely on men to look after them, that they should not sit back and…watch their loved ones die at the hands of their enemies…”

“And here you are, a boy; doing Hemi’s dirty work…” Mohaka looked over the still battle blood-splattered young man before him.

Mitaroa held his head high. “Some-one has to do it…and I’m not a boy!”

Silence again. Both were astounded at the outcome. Both knew; that they should have been in each other’s places…

Mohaka sighed. “Too bad I didn’t have a son, to send to protect the Manaian people…”

“As you said, no-one else thought of that…but you at least, asked to marry one…”

“Actually no, that wily old King offered his daughter to me…”

“So…out of all the…” Mitaroa gulped, “potential conquerors, he considered you to be the most dangerous?”

Mohaka grinned. “He sent you to your death, didn’t he?”

Mitaroa nodded and turned from him, so Mohaka would not see his sickened expression – he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, took a deep breath, and wondered how it was, that against all odds, he was the winner. “What would you have done next, if you had won?”

“First, I would have claimed my bride, then, I would have claimed Manaia…”

“Just like Hemi thought,” Mitaroa said to himself.

“Huh?”

“You wouldn’t have…hurt her?”

“Hurt her?”

“For not…waiting…”

“Heavens no! Did she expect…me to wait? All these years? She was a child when her father promised her to me…”

“You’re a fair man…” Mitaroa turned back to his captive. “Mohaka, does Ingari…know you?”

Mohaka smiled. His rival was jealous. “No, not really. We did meet once, when she was only about eight full seasons old, when we became betrothed…she believed she loved me, back then, said she couldn’t wait to grow up, so we could be together…she made me promise to wait for her…I remember thinking how lovely she was, even at that age…I bet she’s grown into a real beauty…we were to be married…” Mohaka sighed, “about now…is that the reason for your visit? Have you come to…gloat?”

“I was…curious…”

“I would have been too, in your shoes, so…what are you going to do now?”

“Claim my bride, and…Manaia…”

Mohaka shook his head. “Oh, no…out of fear for me, he offered you…his kingdom?”

Mitaroa rubbed his chin. “I almost feel sorry for him. He doesn’t know who to fear most; you, or me…”

“He…probably hoped we’d kill each other…”

“Yeah…”

“Well, you’re still alive…”

“Yeah…” Mitaroa took a small Wahaika dagger out from between his robes and stepped towards Mohaka.

Mohaka closed his eyes and waited for the thrust, but the next thing he knew, the bonds that had restrained his right arm fell to the ground. He opened his eyes and blinked uncertainly at the young man before him. “What, the…!?”

“Well, well! You’re still alive, also…”

Mohaka cleared his throat. “Am I supposed to attempt an escape so you can finish me off?”

“You are supposed to escape, but…I’m not going to kill you…”

“Why? Feeling…guilty?”

“Yes…” turning the weapon so the knife pointed to himself, Mitaroa passed the weapon to Mohaka.

Mohaka took hold of the handle, and hesitated – he, being the stronger of the two, could so easily and swiftly slice the younger man’s head from his shoulders – both knew it – they both held the weapon between them, the blade at the younger man’s throat - Mitaroa waited – without breathing - for the swipe – then the older man smiled, and took the weapon.

Mitaroa started breathing again. “By the time you’ve freed your other arm, I will have gone – crawl under the tent at the opposite end,” he indicated where, “not far from there in the woods, you’ll find your clothes…”

“Why?”

Mitaroa attempted a joke. “One less mouth to feed…”

“Thanks…”

“Where will you go?”

“Well, I can’t go home, can I? Rauru also belongs to you, now…”

“Would you rise up against us, counterattack?”

“What with? I don’t have much of an army anymore, either…yours made sure of that…”

“It wouldn’t take a man like you long to…bounce back on your feet again…”

“By the time I do, I’m sure you and Ingari would have some children to look after…she would have forgotten I ever existed, if she hasn’t already…and I would be too old to try to make her remember…”

“You’ve got many good years ahead of you yet…”

“With which, I intend retiring…”

Mitaroa mustn’t have looked convinced because Mohaka added, “you have my word…”

“Warrior to warrior?”

“Warrior to warrior!”

Mitaroa started for the entrance, then turned back. “Where?”

Mohaka was already at the other side of the tent. “Huh?”

“If I ever wanted to find you…?”

“In case you change your mind and decide the world would be a safer place without me after all?”

Mitaroa grinned. “In case my King changes his mind…and I will be a lot safer with you…”

Mohaka grinned. “There’s a deserted island in the great lake…”

“I’ve heard about it, on the other side of the desert, but I haven’t seen the great lake yet, or the desert…”

Mohaka started lifting the tent, ignoring Mitaroa.

Mitaroa called, “Mohaka, wait…”

Mohaka turned to Mitaroa and the younger man continued, “I’ve heard that the desert is…dangerous…”

Mohaka laughed. “Rumors started to keep children like you away …”

“And its people…just as dangerous…”

Mohaka laughed again. “Hardly…in fact, they’re in need of security. Could be a good job for an old, retired combatant. ”

“I really am sorry, Mohaka…”

Mohaka shook his head. “No need to be. That’s life, kid…luckily, I was allowed to live. When it is time for you to face a young challenger, I hope you will be…just as lucky.”

“Do you have a…a spouse?”

“I had a large Whare-Wahine, Mitaroa, full of war widows…as you can imagine, as the north easterners have been attacking our two smaller tribes this side of the lake forever - a bunch of grumbling, gossiping, whining widows who…” Mohaka grinned, “belong to you, now…” then he slipped through the gap in the tent, and disappeared into the woods...

If Mitaroa’s men knew Mohaka didn’t really escape, his loyal army never betrayed him his secret.

Word of their success reached home before they did, and celebrations were already underway when the warriors returned. Trading vendors lined the main street with their wares, entertainers were performing their arts, and the people were dancing in the streets, all singing praises to their young hero, who had bought back every one of his men, for none were lost, and only a few injured, in their crazed attack on Mohaka; who had been known as ‘The Great and the Feared’.

Mitaroa hadn’t been in the new land for long, and he’d already proved to be the protector of the Manaian, the Manaian hero, without yet even being attacked by the larger enemies from across the lake, but never in his life as a warrior had he felt more loved by a people, not even by his own tribe back in the old land. And never had his combined army of Makimoi been more loyal. Which was just as well, for what was about to happen…for not quite everyone was pleased, with the young hero’s safe return.

Unknown to Mitaroa, Ingari was also deep in thought, thinking back to that fateful time, when she had overheard her parents…

“You fool!” In their apartment in the palace, Queen Akura, was extremely upset with her husband. “Idiot!”

The King had spent most of the day – since the messenger’s news of victory - awaiting the young man’s return, in a state of bewilderment. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined Mitaroa would have survived, let alone win, and return home – miraculously quite unhurt – most of his men also – Hemi had been quite certain the more experienced fighter with his larger and more experienced and regimental men would have triumphed over the fresh-faced youth, and his mix-matched followers of sea-faring mercenaries.

“You said he would not come back!” Akura nagged, “you were so sure that boy would never return…!?”

“Shush!” Hemi was trying to think, “you might be overheard…?”

“By whom?” Akura pointed to the window, “everyone’s out there, waiting for…our hero…who is already at the entrance with his men, in Pageant-like tradition, awaiting the royal family assemble on the main Whare porch, and signal for the parade to begin down the main street, so he could approach our home at the other end of the village square, and be formally welcomed home, and thanked, by…the very man who sent him on his…impossible mission?!”

“I know; I know, woman! I’m trying to think…”

At that moment, the carnival sounds of merriment on the streets below turned to loud laughter and cheers.

“He’s obviously showing off,” Akura sneered, “he knows how to entertain an audience…he can be so amusing and charismatic…and now that he’s bought his men home successfully from Ruaru, the people love him more than ever…our daughter will too, if you don’t do something, anything!?”

“Do? Do?” Hemi had been trying to ignore his wife, wondering what to do about the situation. “I really didn’t think he’d return, Akura…I believed Mohaka would win, and claim what was rightfully his, and life would return to how it was supposed to be. You and I, Mohaka and Ingari, and Manaia and Rauru…”

“So, what went wrong with your plans Hemi? Mitaroa is back! Just listen to his adoring fans outside…”

Hemi put his head in his hands. “Oh…”

“So what’s your…back-up plan?”

“Huh?”

“Your second plan?! In case your first plan fails, as it…clearly has!”

Hemi looked as though he was going to say something, then changed his mind.

“Oh, no…there is no other plan, is there?”

“I told you. Mitaroa was not supposed to return!”

“But he has! He’s back, Hemi…?!”

“Your shouting isn’t helping any, I need to think…?!”

“You’ve had days to think! You need to act, now. Everyone knows you promised him Ingari if he returned victorious, everyone!?”

At that, the girl listening outside their door, ran excitedly to her rooms. Albeit she did not hear, what was said next…if she had, she wouldn’t have left so cheerfully. She found out some of what had been conspired in her parent’s apartments at that time, a few weeks later, from her mother. This; is Akura’s version…

“Well,” Akura continued, “you can’t…you just can’t give our daughter, a royal princess, to a… nobody!”

“Can’t I?” Hemi sighed, “why not?”

Akura’s eyes flashed. “You can’t be serious…?!”

“You said yourself, listen to the people outside. Well, you listen too wife, it’s obvious, Mitaroa is not a nobody. He’s the people’s hero. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea…?!”

“You like him, don’t you?!”

“You…have to admire a man like that…”

“Now you listen to me! A man like that is trouble! Yes, he is dashing, and suave, but he is also flirtatious and seductive…just like his mother!”

“What?”

“Yes…do you really think I didn’t know about…you and her?”

“Wh…?”

“Riri’s the sort who is willing to do anything to get what she wants! So is her son!”

“I…I…?”

“And! Do you really think Ingari wants him? Don’t you know what she’s been hanging around that…lousy Mori for?”

Hemi gulped. “I…apparently not…”

“Some of us have suspected for years now that the sea people would come again, Ingari wasn’t entirely conscious of this of course, the thought was ‘induced’ when she was young, just in case…”

Hemi frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about…”

“You should, you’re…one of them…”

“I…do know about a forefather that originally came from the sea…”

“And attacked without warning, swept throughout our land, destroying everything in sight, like a violent tidal wave from the ocean…”

“That was a long time ago…”

“Not much survived that assault, but that forefather of yours stayed, and took a native girl to wife…”

“And it took time, but we’ve rebuilt, re-grown...Maniaia has never been so large and beautiful…a few generations have passed, I was born here, I’m Manaian…what you’re talking about, is now so…negligible. And it’s ancient history!”

“For you maybe, sitting in your…beautifully decorated royal whare house, in your…rebuilt city, it may be easy for you to forget the past…but, not all of us have. Why, even your own father, gave you a…Tipu-Aki name. Some of us, will never forget…”

“Alright, let’s not forget, for a moment. Some blood of the sea people has been here for so long now, that…that even you might have some of it running through your veins also…?!”

Akura knew he was right. Everyone originally came from the old lands in the great ocean. But her family had been in the new land for so long, that they couldn’t even remember how life may have been, across the vast sea. “Oh, I know who I am…I am from a long line of people of Aotearoa, I don’t know anything of Takitumu, Tipu-Aki, Raro, Rapanui, or Hawaiiki even, for that matter! Even language dialects and accents have changed. I barely understand them…” she held her drinking gorge up, “for example, they say Kava, we say Kawa…”

“Doesn’t sound that much different to me…”

Akura sighed. “You’re right, maybe we are the same people…but this I do know, I’ll do whatever I have to…to keep them away, to prevent them from despoiling us, the new race in the new land, any further! Mitaroa, is not going to be Ingari’s husband, no matter how much the people, and you…love him!”

“Yet you married me, regardless of my minor…sea-blood.”

“I didn’t have much choice at the time, or have you forgotten that also?”

“I…I thought you loved me…?”

“I…thought I hated you, until…Riri…?!”

“Oh…?!”

“I thought she was visiting, just a passing fancy…?!”

“She was…!”

“No, she wasn’t, I had to find out from the servants that you were so besotted with her that…you actually agreed to let some of those people back into our lives!”

But Hemi was still trying to come to terms with the fact that his wife did not love him until she realized she was jealous of Riri.“ You…acted like you loved me, is that what our daughter…is doing with Mitaroa?”

“Yes…”

Hemi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d always thought his wife and daughter clever, but also gentle and shy. Right now, he felt as though he didn’t know them at all. “But…through me, as you have reminded me, our daughter will have sea blood also, however marginal…yet you…are using her to do…what exactly?”

Akura looked away. “We’d hoped she’d…kill him!?”

Hemi blinked at the little dainty woman he’d loved more than all the others he’d ever known. “You wanted your own daughter to kill? And kill someone of…as you’ve just agreed, marginally, of her own kind?”

Akura looked at her husband with contempt. “Some-one must try something, my way, only one man would have been killed. Your way, many of Mohaka’s men have been slain, and…the young seaman is at this very moment outside, waiting for your ‘thanks’!”

“Then what’s…” Hemi hesitated, still finding his wife’s sudden admission unbelievable. “What’s taking our daughter so long, to do your dirty deed?”

“I…I…”

“She…she couldn’t do it, could she? Ingari’s just as enamored of him as the rest of us are…except you, and…that witch friend of yours? She’s the one behind all this, isn’t she? I knew I should have forbidden those visits to the wrong side of town!”

“And I knew I shouldn’t have expected a girl to do a…woman’s job!”

“OK, we’ve both made mistakes…now as you know, I don’t have another plan. Do you?”

Akura hesitated, then shook her head.

Then they both laughed.

They were both feeling a little relaxed now, the Kawa helped, but Akura could not resist one, last sarcastic nag. “You over-estimated Mohaka, didn’t you? So where is this most powerful warrior of Raurua now?”

Silence, for a moment… “That’s it!”

“Excuse me?”

Hemi swept his wife up in his arms and twirled her around. “That’s it! You are so clever Akura, so clever…”

Akura giggled. “Put me down!”

He did, then grabbing her hand, started for the royal porch.

“But…what…Hemi, what…?”

“Like you said; where is Mohaka now? Come on, I know exactly how to get out of my promise!”

In her rooms, Ingari excitedly twirled before her maids. “How do I look?”

The girls giggled their replies, ‘her hair was gleaming,’ ‘her skin glowing’, ‘her lovely new Pareu gown for the occasion light, soft and flowing, not too revealing, not too modest,’ that ‘she was the most beautiful princess in the town…’

“I’m the only princess in the town,” she laughed with them, but she was grateful for their reassurances, for some unknown reason she could not fathom, she wanted to look her best, for Mitaroa – for after hearing her parent’s discussion earlier, and discovering that he had won her – she hadn’t expected to feel so thrilled at the idea, and neither, had she expected to feel so ecstatic at his remarkable return –

She hadn’t realized either how much she’d missed the good-looking young man she’d failed to poison, she hadn’t realized how gloomy she had been while he was away – Mitaroa had won the war, and her – she should be feeling the opposite – she should hate the man who had ravished her when she’d hardly stepped into his room one night, albeit, she was too deliciously delirious to think straight, let alone fight back – she should want revenge against him, for warring against her betrothed – and she should feel despondent for being her father’s prize – although that sort of thing happened to daughters, but at least Mitaroa – oh, the handsome Mitaroa – was fun to be with, attractive, and really seemed to love her –

Her hand went to her fluttering breast as she realized, did she truly love him? The first thing that came to her mind was, if so, when did that happen? She’d been concentrating so much on her – impossible duty!?! Then, as if coming out of a trance, duty - some – kind – of - task? Arranged for her by – whom? An old clone? Her mind struggled with a misty memory – or her mother’s witch? After all these years, she’d convinced herself it had all been a silly dream – she ran to her clothes basket, and threw the lid open – fumbled around at the bottom, and pulled out – an old crimson feather – she gasped, and dropped it –

Visions of a misty rain – or heavy haze? A hooded giant – or cloaked reptile? A skeletal clone – or masked witch? An eroded headpiece – or fractured skull? Albeit it was a job expected of her from the wrong side of town, which represented the past – complete with a haunting voice from long ago, ‘you have to kill him!’ And the same voice, more recently, ‘if you don’t kill this man you’re infatuated with, you will pay a high price for your love…” and who had taken her there? Her mother!?!

Ingari shook her head. “No, I can’t…I can’t!”

The maids gasped at their mistress’s behavior. Within moments, Ingari had changed from a cheerful young ‘bride to be’, to the wretched girl before them, leaning on the side of her basket, as though she were in pain.

“Are you…alright?” One of them asked cautiously.

Then, just as suddenly, Ingari straightened, and smiled. “Yes, of course I am. Just a…sudden case of nerves…?!?”

The maids went back to giggling again, with reassuring comments of, ‘of course,’ ‘that’s normal,’ and ‘all brides get nervous...’

Then, the fanfare broke their girlish delight, and they ran to the window, Ingari in the lead, to catch a glimpse of the handsome champion, as he entered the main town gates, followed by his valiant men. Moments later, as the parade neared its destination, a sudden movement in a window above must have caught his attention, for Mitaroa looked up, blew Ingari a kiss, and she returned it with her dazzling dimpled smile. He almost tripped over his own feet, at the wonder of it all, he still felt unworthy of her, and she, was painfully aware of her own trembling knees. They had always had that effect on each other, which had made it impossible for her to fulfill the terrible task that had been inflicted upon her by…she now finally understood, by her own mother…

“You should be down there, Ingari…?!” One of the maids urged her mistress.

Ingari shoved any further thoughts of murky misdeeds out of her mind, once and for all. “Yes, I should be…” and looking at the disintegrating old feather on the floor, she snatched it up, and threw it out of the window to the dusty streets below, to be forever lost to her now - then she ran to take her place beside her family, and waited to be dutifully given to the man she loved, with a clear conscience…

There was a knock at the door, and both Mitaroa and Ingari looked up expectantly, it was a servant, bringing in a platter of fruit for the children. Hinewai shook her head as the platter was placed before her, the servant hesitated a moment, as it was unusual to see any parents in the nursery, they also refused the fruit before it was even offered to them, so the servant went down to the further side of the nursery to feed other children there, Hinewai went back to her painting, and the parent’s thoughts returned to their peculiar past.

The king watched Mitaroa approach with both envy, and sadness, at what he had to do. When his beloved daughter joined them and placed her hand on the back of his royal high seat, with loving fingers landing ever-so- lightly on his left shoulder, her expression one of expectant excitement, he almost changed his mind. He loved Ingari so much, he hated to see his daughter hurt, or upset.

When he looked at his people – most of the main village citizens, including regional crop farmers and surrounding smaller villagers, sub tribes – had come to welcome their hero, and his victorious warriors, return home; they were crowding the main street and square, they were seen in all the windows, they were leaning over balconies and sat on rooftops, they were holding their children up to see the amazing Mitaroa, and calling out how much they loved him; Hemi longed to change his mind.

Why couldn’t his sons, or at least one of them, be like the popular Mitaroa? How he wished the brave and victorious young man approaching him right now, really was his son. The superb young man who also, grinned eagerly back at the princess, as he proudly strode toward the royal porch, leading his men, believing he was about to be thanked, and rewarded, as the people’s hero. If he allowed Mitaroa marry his daughter, he would surely be a son to be proud of – but his wife’s stern hand on his other shoulder, with long sharp fingernails firmly pressing through the light cloth of his cloak, reminded him that the couple had agreed, just moments before; that a sea-person, and especially the son of Riri; could never have their daughter, would never be a part of the royal family, and will never be accepted as one of them, and their kind.

“Welcome,” Hemi tried to smile, as Mitaroa stopped at the foot of the verandah, “welcome back…”

Mitaroa beamed up at the king. “Thank you, it’s good to be home…”

Hemi felt his wife stiffen at his side, for it seemed as though the young man had only been here for a few days; well, not even for two full moons, yet he already felt as though this was indeed, his home. Hemi knew that it was, for both Mitaroa and him, had accepted Riri’s plan to have her son live here now, and that nothing had been suggested the young man ever return to the sea on a permanent basis, except maybe to visit. “Listen to the people Mitaroa, they adore you…”

At that, Mitaroa turned to survey everyone surrounding them, and waved. A cheer rose among the crowd again. Mitaroa had never felt more loved and happier. Overhead, even flocks of songbirds seemed to sing his praises, as they curiously circled the square a few times, before continuing their flight. And as the sun commenced sinking behind the palace, a shadow fell on the royal family, but a fiery ray of gold hit the square, shining on the young man before them. A sigh swept through the superstitious crowd, believing the singing birds on golden sunrays to be a good omen. Even the realistic Mitaroa could not help but feel quite special, at that moment. A light breeze caressed his warm face. He was home. He was loved. He was welcome. He was popular. The love of his life waited within a few short steps. His clever mother had been oh’ so right, in sending him to Manaia. He never doubted his mother, but he hadn’t expected to feel so exuberant at how things had turned out. How he loved his life here. How perfect his life, how perfect the evening – with joy and gratitude, his head bowed a little, but enough to be appropriate, Mitaroa went down on one knee before his king. “And…I’m fond of the people…”

“May I congratulate you,” the words sounded false to the king’s own ears, “for…not only were you victorious, I hear you had no casualties, and have brought back every single warrior, safely. The people have been rejoicing all day, since the messengers arrived with the good news…”

Another cheer went up amidst the crowd.

“Unbelievable news!” Amongst the cheering, not everyone heard the queen spit the words out, “you must have used some kind of magic, Mitaroa, or…supernatural forces…?!?”

Mitaroa gulped. He had been so enthralled at being the center of attention, the hero of the moment, he’d briefly forgotten he was among enemies. He did not trust his king, but until now, he had not realized how much his queen hated him also. “Not at all,” Mitaroa cleared his throat, “it’s no secret my mother…dabbles, but I’m a practical man…I don’t even pray…it’s not that I’m an unbeliever as such, it’s just that I prefer to rely on myself, and not on anything else,” Mitaroa risked a quick glance at the queen, but at this angle, her face was shaded and the sun was in his eyes, “or anyone else…”

The queen was momentarily stunned. The conceited boy had obviously hinted he’d included them with his comment, it was apparent he did not rely on his royal patrons either, and she lost some of her composure. “Of course. You wouldn’t have to…dabble! Riri weaves her spells from across the sea…like all good mothers,” Akura looked at her daughter, “we; have to invoke certain powers for our children, for themselves, for us; their parents, but most importantly, for the people!”

Ingari looked at her mother, who was visibly shaking with scorn. “Love; is stronger than your silly magic, mother…I’ve thrown that ridiculous red feather away!”

Mother and daughter glared at each other across the King’s head. Mitaroa could not comprehend what was happening between the royal family, who were at the top of a few stairs to the main royal whare building, on the porch.

The king’s sons chuckled in the background, at Mitaroa’s mystified expression, they thought it hilarious that the almighty ‘hero’ was unaware that the little, dainty royal women, the King’s wife and daughter, were his most dangerous threat…

The smirking boys were so stupid, thought Mitaroa, that they did not even realize that their birthright was about to be given away to a stranger from across the sea. Or was it? Surely, they wouldn’t be laughing so smugly unless they knew that they needn’t worry about their father’s promise. And here I am, thought the people’s hero, down on my knees, helpless, at the bottom of some steps, before the unscrupulous royal family.

Then, the king put his hands out on either side of himself, indicating his family stop and behave themselves. And when the sun suddenly shifted and streamed through an archway in the building so that they were no longer shaded, the royal family appeared serene and smiling, the people oblivious of the little tiff on the terrace – everyone that is, except Mitaroa.

“Magical?” The king glanced at his wife, then looked down at the young man before them. “Nonsense! Miraculous, is the word. Rise, Mitaroa…”

Mitaroa was relieved to be allowed up, he felt more vulnerable kneeling in front of the royal family, than he did when launching his attack on Mohaka. Then he stepped to the side and signaled his men. “My king, I bring you…Rauru!”

To the royal family’s surprise, Mitaroa’s men divided, allowing some untied and brightly clad Rauruan people approach the royal building. Some played musical instruments, while others; skin gleaming with Kawhai oil, dressed in feather headpieces and little else, performed a traditional and rather athletic dance routine, complete with twirling flaming flares, while still others; carried large baskets, and other containers, overflowing with treasures. Beautiful Whakapaipai Greenstone jewels were placed at the feet of the royal family, embroidered and beaded materials of beaten and burned reeds were piled on the steps of the palace, along with feathered cloaks, beautifully bejeweled and intricately carved weapons, and shell necklaces. The townspeople hushed in awe, then cheered and clapped with glee at the spectacle; the royal family were not sure whether to be afraid or pleased; and Mitaroa, so sure of himself, beamed with confidence, that this was probably the best show that the Manaian had ever witnessed.

When the Rauruan had finished, and the flares extinguished, most returned to the middle of the army, and a handful, obviously a few of the surviving nobility, placed themselves at Mitaroa’s side; heads bowed slightly, showing their respect to the royalty of this area, but they did not kneel, and remained standing, demonstrating their own positions in the community. It was obvious to all, that within hours of being conquered and traveling with Mitaroa to Manaia, they were already loyal supporters of the young hero.

The King clearly groaned. He was in an impossible situation. Half of him wanted to keep his promise, the other half didn’t – his so-called ‘better half’ dug her fingernails deeper into his shoulder – she knew what was going on in his mind. He rose, to escape those sharp nails. “Astonishing! What an amazing feat Mitaroa, given the…” his eyes flicked over the Rauruan standing next to Mitaroa, “recent pain you inflicted on these people, they must have suffered great losses, not only their loved ones, but even…” he indicated the treasures before him, “their possessions. Yet there’s no doubt, the Rauruan obviously admire you, regardless…!?”

“They are a conquering people themselves Hemi, so they understand, and have a respect for the new conqueror,” Mitaroa shrugged, “that’s all…and there’s more,” now Mitaroa indicated the treasure,” where this came from, some in baskets outside the main gates, plenty still, in Rauru…Mohaka, was a very rich man...”

“More?”

“Much more...” now Mitaroa glanced at Ingari, “including a…very large Whare Wahine…”

Did Ingari flinch ever-so-slightly, “A…wha…?!” She gasped softly, as visions of her younger self, an infatuated girl, asking Mohaka to wait for her to grow up, went through her mind.

Mitaroa had difficulty hiding his delight. He couldn’t imagine a modern girl like Ingari accepting tradition - she had rebelled against her own betrothal - she was waiting to be given to the foreigner from the sea - a descendant of the people who had almost annihilated them to extinction once before – “Yes, a harem.” Mitaroa turned from Ingari so she could not see his exultant expression, “quite a few concubines…” there would be no ghosts of a past love between them now, “so…” he turned back to the king, “the sooner you send some-one to look after your interests there, the better…it is vulnerable now, with fewer people, and a much smaller army. A few surrendered when they realized that they’d lost the battle, but it is defenseless to any other subjugator to just walk in and take over, after all our hard work…”

“Hard work?!” The King’s eyes narrowed. “Wars usually take hours, sometimes days, even weeks…yet rumor has it, you sneaked up, took them by surprise, and it was all over within minutes…?!”

“That’s exaggerated gossip,” but Mitaroa could not resist a little boast, “but no, we didn’t waste any time…”

“Hardly chivalrous warfare…?!”

Mitaroa raised an eyebrow. He wanted to add, ‘for hardly a chivalrous king’. He said instead, “you sent me there, on that hopeless task, with unrealistic odds, but…you didn’t tell me how to win. I figured you left that up to me…what did you expect? What would you have done, if you were me?”

“I…would never have been involved in some-one else’s problems in the first place…!?”

Mitaroa refused to be put in the position whereby he would have to defend his mother’s behavior, yet again. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t…”

“But then…” Hemi looked over Mitaroa’s men, “yours' are not a…gallant lot, are they?!”

A gasp went throughout the crowd.

Mitaroa did not miss the stunned expression on Inia’s face, the Rauruan man standing nearest to him. A royal man, next in charge after Mohaka. Mitaroa’s men were supposed to be publicly thanked for winning an impossible mission. Yet their king seemed to be trying to find fault with him and his men, instead. Mitaroa felt humiliated and bewildered. “Pardon?!?”

“And now,” Hemi continued, “you’re admitting you didn’t leave many there, to protect what’s left of Mohaka’s property, and people…?!? Except for a ‘whare wahine’ which does not necessarily mean that it’s full of Mohaka’s concubines…most villages have a building for spinsters, widowers, single women…”

Mitaroa noted Hemi’s concern was foremost for the property there, and then secondly, the people. “Begging your pardon, but my job was to defeat your…gravest…” he hesitated, ‘enemy’, did not seem appropriate as the two neighboring tribes had been allies until he and Ingari met and fell in love, so he continued with, “…concern. And after putting their lives on the line for me, all my men deserved to be bought back to their new home and people and celebrate their triumphant success in their own town…what you decide to do with Rauru, is now…up to you…!?”

Hemi smiled. “Exactly! And I have decided to appoint you, Mitaroa of Takitumu Tipu-Aki,” he waved to the crowd, “and…all the people’s hero, leader of Rauru…?!”

“What?!” Mitaroa hadn’t trusted his king, but nor had he expected to be exiled. He glanced at the queen, and noticed she was smiling triumphantly, out-done only by her sons, chuckling at her side. He looked at Ingari; she looked as dumbfounded at this latest announcement as he. At least she; was not a part of this. “But…a governor would have to go back there straight away, to keep the peace, to re-build…”

Hemi nodded. “That’s right, Mitaroa…”

“But…I’ve only just got back. We expected…” Mitaroa stopped. He had presumed the best. He should have expected the worst. He should have joined up with Mohaka and together, they could have defeated this lovely oasis in between the base of the great mountain and the desert. Hemi would have been renounced as the ruthless leader he is, and between them, the warriors would have ruled as allies – Mitaroa in Manaia, Mohaka at Rauru – but then, who would have ended up with the lovely Ingari? She was the sort who would have made her own decision; she would not have allowed any gallant duel; the suitors would not have made this decision by fighting; who would she have chosen? Mitaroa looked at her with such an expression of mixed emotions and helplessness, that she thought he was appealing to her for assistance.

Ingari turned to her father and grabbed an arm. “Father, what…what are you saying?!”

Hemi fought the urge to change his mind, and without taking his eyes off the young man who sought to take his daughter and his kingdom, shook his arm free of Ingari’s hold. “Who better, to look after Rauru,” his voice boomed across the square to gain the crowd’s support, “but its conqueror?”

Some of the crowd cheered, for that did make sense, but others wanted the fun, fair and fearless Mitaroa become the ruler of Manaia, become their ruler, most would support whatever path the young man chose, and would follow him, either way…

Ingari looked from father to lover in confusion. She attempted reaching out to her father again but clasped her hands in bewilderment. “Father?!”

Mitaroa took a step closer to the king. He was still at the bottom of the steps, and he had to fight an urge to run up and shake the older man in exasperation. “My king, you are Rauru’s conqueror, not me…what I did, I did for you, under your command…”

“So…you choose to obey only certain commands now?”

“And…do you choose to keep only certain promises now?”

Hemi made sure the crowd could hear him; he must make it sound as though he’s bestowing a great honor on the young hero. “Most men would jump at the chance of ruling their own place…?!”

But the crowd was silent.

Mitaroa also made sure the crowd heard his answer. “Not if they earned the right, to rule another!?”

The crowd cheered.

Hemi scowled. “I am still your king, Mitaroa; you and your men can refresh yourselves, and celebrate your triumphant win tonight, but you will leave for Rauru first thing in the morning!”

“First thing?!” Mitaroa scowled back at his king. “And who then, will protect Manaia? I migrated all the way from Tipu-Aki, to do so!”

“Oh, did I forget to mention, you go on your own, Mitaroa…”

“Wh…?!? My men will not be pleased…”

“Like you, your men are employed by me, and you will all do as I say! You are to take the Rauruan you have bought with you back to their home and re-assemble what’s left of Mohaka’s warriors - that way, I have you and the Rauruan army looking after our interests there, and the rest of your Makimoi warriors doing the job they are employed to do here. I’ll even let you choose, the new Makimoi captain, to take your place here...”

Mitaroa heard Inia gasp, and the crowd was murmuring in disbelief.

Mitaroa shook his head. “No! This was not the deal we agreed on, Hemi…or should I say; Okorotua!?!”

Ingari grabbed her father’s arm again. “What are you doing? What are you saying? I…I don’t want to live at Rauru, father…?!”

The king avoided his daughter’s eyes. “Don’t worry; you won’t!”

“But…I’ve heard the rumors, like everyone else, that if Mitaroa returned victorious, we would be married, and…he has returned victorious…” Ingari started toward Mitaroa, "he has…?!”

But her father reached out and held her back. “Don’t believe rumors, daughter…or servant’s gossip...”

Ingari blinked at her father despairingly. “But father, it was you I heard! I heard you and mother talking, earlier this evening…?!”

Hemi almost changed his mind. “Oh, daughter…”

Akura pulled on Hemi’s other arm. “Of course, we considered the possibility Ingari, but…we have to do what’s best for everyone, Including…Mohaka’s people…”

Inia cleared his throat. “May I speak?”

Hemi looked the Raurun up and down. “And…who are you?”

“I am A’Inia, a tribal counselor. I was Mohaka’s’ chief advisor, and part of the…our royal family. It is only because of Mitaroa’s mercy that I, along with some of us sensible enough to surrender, and fortunate enough to survive because of it, that we are here, in your beautiful town. Most call me Inia; for short.”

“And what is it you want to say Inia?”

“Only that we Rauruan are very independent. We can return and re-build, without…” he glanced at Mitaroa, “without any help.” He looked at the king. “For you, of course…”

“For me? For how long exactly? Until you’ve assembled another army to attack us in revenge?”

“I am not, a…fighting man…”

“Perhaps not, but a counselor would know how to advise, negotiate…maybe even coerce, with other potential enemies of mine. No, advisers are a lot more dangerous than fighters. I need someone there, who can prove he is good enough to be my…future son-in-law, and future ruler of all my lands…”

Hemi’s oldest son stepped forward, ready to protest. Hemi waved a hand at him; and he stepped back. Deep down, Mitaroa wished that the boy hadn’t obeyed, that at least one of his sons would show enough strength to defy his father and stand up for his own inheritance. Not many would argue with his king, except for the fearless Mitaroa, and an astonished Rauruan prisoner.

“I’ve already done that, Hemi, or Okorotua,” Mitaroa looked his King in the eyes, “I did as you asked. There are plenty of other good men who, as you reminded me, would jump at the chance of proving they can run a region for you. I’ve already kept my end of the bargain. Now, you must keep yours!”

“Oh, no you haven’t, Mitaroa…and I’ve made my decision. There will be no wedding, not yet, and you will return to Rauru!”

The whole town was silent. The people knew there was a problem on the porch. Those in the square had been listening intently, and those down the main street were straining to see and hear what was happening.

“But…why?” Mitaroa thought of all the Rauruan who had died for this, and of Mohaka, who was now homeless, and choked. “Why? What do you mean, I haven’t done my part?” Mitaroa pointed at the bounty on the stairs. “Look before you!”

“Think about it, Mitaroa…what did I ask you to do?”

“You asked me to go to war, attack Rauru…”

“But…what were my words exactly?”

“Uh…?!”

“Can’t remember? I said Mohaka was Ingari’s fiancé, and he would threaten war, if I gave her to you instead. I didn’t say I wanted you to go to war, nor did I ask you to bring me,” Hemi indicated the bounty, “this impressive display of Rauruan bounty. All I asked you to do was to…destroy Mohaka!”

“Wha…?!”

“Did you kill him Mitaroa?”

“I…I…”

“You didn’t; did you? Where is he?”

“I…”

“Why, Mitaroa…you evidently don’t want me to know. Your loyalties lie with him, instead of with me. I asked you to kill him. But he’s free isn’t he? Free, to take his revenge…”

“Mohaka swore he would never take up arms against us.” Mitaroa looked around, glancing suspiciously at his men. Did Tohu say something? “Who told you he’s free?!”

“You just did, Mitaroa…” Hemi grinned at the young man, “you, just did. You did not do as you were ordered, so now, I will not do as I promised!”

“No!” Mitaroa struggled to keep in control. “You tricked me!”

“You didn’t fulfill your end of the bargain, Mitaroa…now prepare to leave!”

“No!” Ingari cried and struggled to free herself from her father’s hold. “No father, no…!?”

The realization of what just occurred on the verandah, Hemi’s cruel grin, Rauru having just been ransacked at the cost of so many lives, Mohaka being exiled, and he being thrown out of town also, now helplessly standing among a few Rauruan people who seemed to have forgiven him, but had every reason to kill him; all for nothing - and seeing the woman he loved crying and struggling as she was being held away from him by her father, was all too much for Mitaroa to bear. “No!” He roared, moving up the few steps, closing the distance between him and Hemi, “Okorotua, let her go!” He had only meant to help the woman he loved, free Ingari from her father’s grasp, but it appeared to all; that Mitaroa was attacking the king.

Hemi was surprised. Mitaroa had been wronged by him, he knew, but he never suspected the young man would ever actually turn on him, his king. In his short time here, Mitaroa had proven to be Manaian’s loyal captain of the army, a faithful subject, and always did as he was commanded. Not so long ago, the boy was suggesting different ways of having himself punished, even executed. The young man was being sarcastic at the time, but Hemi had no doubt Mitaroa would have gone ahead with whatever the king had decided to do. Too late, as the king presumed he was being attacked, Hemi realized he had pushed his young captain to the limit – the king panicked and withdrew a sharpened fishbone he always carried amongst his garments for protection, should his security fail – which is exactly what was happening.

When Hemi’s body-guards moved towards the two fuming men, so did Mitaroa’s men, including his new Rauruan friends – the king’s few body-guards immediately threw down their weapons, and Hemi’s sons cowered in a corner, hands outstretched, indicating surrender, when confronted by Mitaroa’s men – the queen ran to the back of the porch, and Hemi, knowing he now only had himself to rely on, flung Ingari to the floor, and lunged at Mitaroa – Mitaroa deftly stepped out of the way, not wanting to fight with his king, but Inia swiftly grabbed a Rauruan shield from the bounty on the stairs and shoved it between Hemi’s knife and the young man – Mitaroa meant to push the shield away, but the livid king, knowing the younger man was the superior fighter, lashed out at Mitaroa in a frantic fury – as if miraculously, he might be the only successful opponent the younger man had ever encountered in his short life – and the thought that he might show his people that he was a better fighter than their foreign hero, was too tempting for Hemi to resist - and with the flailing assault, Mitaroa had no choice but to use the shield, to defend himself –

Mitaroa was actually surprised at the older man’s strength and speed – so where he had hoped to just defend himself until his King tired, and stopped fighting, he found the shield, which was made of thick layers of woven flax entwining whale bone, was just being shredded, and the younger man was forced to fight back – for a while, he managed to keep the king from getting too close, but the tattered shield was no longer very effective at deflecting the king’s blows - Mitaroa had left his weapons with Tohu, so all he could do was hold onto what was left of the shield in both hands, and use it to ward off the king, hopefully, without hurting the old man too much – but Hemi, in front of his family, in front of the whole town, felt as though he could not stop what he’d started now, until finally, Mitaroa’s patience spent, twirled what was left of the shield like a round spear and at last, the king faltered – now Hemi was forced to protect himself from the tattered make-shift circular staff in the hands of an expert – both men did not realize how sharp the ends of the shield structural whalebones were however, and as Hemi attempted to wrench the bothersome improvised javelin-like weapon from Mitaroa’s grasp, the younger man lunged at the older one and – to the amazement of both, the king was impaled – Hemi staggered, his expression one of disbelief – Mitaroa froze, it took a moment for him to comprehend what had happened – then - a scream from the girl still down on the floor where her father had pushed her, bought them both back to their senses…

As if in slow motion the king, still holding onto the shield between them, started to sway – Mitaroa immediately let it go and rushed towards the older man, catching him as he fell – which somehow dislodged the shield and although tattered, the whale-bone glided softly and soundlessly to the floor – the King’s small bone knife, in contrast, dropped quite quickly and clanged loudly, and the sound of the small weapon rolling on the wooden deck seemed to reverberate throughout the square – for a moment, there was complete silence in the town – then a sob escaped the queen, her sons ran and huddled with her in fear, Ingari crawled over to her father, Inia called for a Tohunga doctor, and finally, sounds of awe, shock, bewilderment and amazement, generated throughout the populace...

“It happened…all so fast…” Mitaroa was unaware he had spoken out loud.

“What?” But Ingari knew that look, Mitaroa’s eyes would always cloud over whenever he thought of their fateful past, and she did not want to be reminded of it. “Never mind…”

Mitaroa was on his knees, holding his dying king in his arms. “What have I done? Forgive me…I’m so sorry, forgive me…?!”

A doctor arrived, but Hemi waved him away, and looking at Mitaroa, shook his head. “Mitaroa, it is I, who should be asking for your forgiveness…you, would have been a son to be proud of, are a son to be proud of…” he turned to the witnesses that were closing around them, “this is my dying wish, I’m going to keep my word…” then he turned back to Mitaroa, “the kingdom is yours Mitaroa, my son-in-law, you are my heir. And in front of all these witnesses,” he waved a hand, “I name you Chief Mitaroa, Chief of Manaia and Rauru. Look after my people,” he looked at Inia but continued speaking to Mitaroa, “you are surrounded by wise men, Mitaroa…Inia did a good job for Mohaka, and it looks as though he is already looking after you…” he turned back to Mitaroa, “be kind to my queen, she was only doing what she thought was best…and…” even in his state, Hemi managed to take Ingari’s hand, place it in Mitaroa’s hand, and his dying words, were…”look after my little girl…the light of my life…”

Some of those close enough to overhear, cheered, “Long live Mitaroa!”

Mitaroa blinked, uncertainly. “Chief?”

“Chief,” Inia offered, “our new Chief…”

Mitaroa shook his head. “No! I don’t want the leadership...not like this, not this way…”

Inia cleared his throat. “But…if you don’t mind my saying so, you already earned it…and” he indicated the people around them, “and there are many witnesses, to the king’s final wishes…”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Mitaroa looked at the girl on the other side of her father, her head was bowed, so he could not see what was in her eyes. “I was supposed to be welcomed home; we were supposed to be celebrating…”

“And you were supposed to be given the kingdom; and the king’s daughter…”

“Things have changed, now…”

Inia knelt next to Mitaroa. “Yes, dramatically…so it’s even more important for you to control yourself and take your rightful place in the community. Listen to your people. Their King has just died, yet they don’t mourn for him…obviously, he wasn’t very popular. It seems to me, they were just hoping and waiting for you to return victorious, they are in need of new leadership, and they love the man who fought for them…”

Mitaroa glanced at Hemi’s sons.

Inia glanced at them too. “Don’t worry about those two, look at them, sniveling behind their mother…if they wanted to challenge their father’s will, they would have done so…by now...”

“They’re in shock…!”

“Any normal son would have avenged their father’s death, already…they only turned up this evening to party.” Inia returned his gaze back to Mitaroa. “Hemi wanted you to have the kingdom; the people want you to lead them.” Inia gently held Ingari’s hand which was still in Mitaroa’s. “Now take your bride, we’re going to have a wedding!”

“What?!”

Ingari then looked up, eyes full of hatred, and pulled her hand out of Mitaroa’s. “No!”

Inia, used to taking charge of situations, stood, ordered the doctor to have Hemi’s body moved, and signaled for some of his own men to help the healer. Then he asked if there was a person who could ordain a marriage, nearby. A few stepped forward, eager to be able to boast that they had performed the ceremony for their beloved new leader and their lovely princess. Within moments, they sorted themselves out; pushing the one they felt was the most accomplished to do so, towards the couple. But Mitaroa was too stunned at the way the woman he loved glared at him now, to comprehend what was happening around him…

Inia reached down to help him up. “Come on, Mitaroa…”

Mitaroa shook his head without taking his eyes from Ingari’s. “Not now, Inia…”

“But you don’t have any choice, Mitaroa…you can’t leave the town in a state of uncertainty. You can’t leave the people without a leader. The Manaian will be vulnerable to any ambitious noble if you don’t act now. I have been in politics my whole life, Mitaroa, and…crowds can be fickle. The people gathered to welcome you home, to witness you being given the kingdom, and its princess. If you ignore their cheers, their loving support when they give it, you will lose it. And once you’ve lost their respect, it will be almost impossible to retrieve it again. They have dressed in their finest; they bought their children out to share in these festivities with you…”

“And they witnessed a murder!”

“No! They saw an old, senile man forget his promise. They saw their King lose his mind. They also saw that Hemi Okorotua realized his mistake in the end. So, the night can still be salvaged, after all. They have not gone home in horror, or in grief. They are waiting in the square, and main street, to watch what their hero will do next. Are you going to give up everything you’ve fought for now?” Inia turned to address the crowd. “Or are you going to give the people…a wedding?”

The people cheered their obvious answer.

In a trance-like state, Mitaroa let Inia help him up. He was hardly aware of what happened next, he knew Ingari was placed by his side, she was so tiny, the huge Inia probably picked her up and put her there…he knew her hand was placed in his again, albeit, reluctantly…he knew a Tohunga priest rambled on, but he could not concentrate on the words…he managed to say his part when required, and although the girl hesitated between silent sobs, she did too…she was probably too scared of the large Rauruan Minister to do otherwise…and before the sun had set completely, on the royal porch at the end of the town square, he and Ingari became man and wife…

For a moment there was an awkward silence all round, when Inia again, started the next proceedings. He turned to the crowd. “People of Manaia! Makimoi, and fellow Rauruan. I take from you, your captain, your hero, and I give to you,” he pointed to Mitaroa, “your new Chief, Mitaroa. Long live Mitaroa!”

That seemed to be the signal to party. The Rauruan started their drumming again, the dancers, seemingly all legs and feathers, were leaping over each other, performing amazing acrobatic feats, and the fire twirlers were now throwing flames to each other.

“Congratulations, Mitaroa…” Tohu was the first to approach the couple. Ingari refused to acknowledge his presence, so he continued to Mitaroa, “Congratulations, our King…”

Mitaroa tried to smile at his friend but failed. “I…don’t think I’ll ever get used to it…”

“Neither will I…!?” Ingari pulled her hand from Mitaroa’s, and ran…the mother moved towards her daughter, the girl hesitated, then continued past Akura also, towards her rooms. Mitaroa let her go.

Still in a daze, Mitaroa managed to accept other congratulations, but it wasn’t until the queen started cursing him, that he realized she was still there. He blinked uncertainly.

Inia was still at the new leader’s side. “Pull yourself together, Mi…,” he corrected himself, “Cheif Mitaroa, you have decisions to make…”

Mitaroa nodded, but still seemed bewildered.

“Mitaroa, you must look as though you know what you’re doing. The people must feel secure with their new leader…!?”

“It just…it all happened so unexpectedly, so fast, and…I” Mitaroa shrugged, “I don’t know what to do…”

“Leading the people is just like leading your army, Mitaroa…deal with your problems,” Inia indicated the queen with a sideways glance, “one at a time…”

Mitaroa looked at Akura; and sighed to Inia, “yeah, one at a time.” He took a step towards the queen; then stopped when she fainted into her son’s arms. “First problem solved,” he murmured to Inia, then turned to the queen’s sons. “Take your mother to her rooms.”

“They’re…” one of them mumbled, “they’re your rooms now…?!”

Mitaroa shook his head. “Does that mean you…” he looked at both young men, “you both comply with your father’s…decision?”

The brothers nodded.

“Good. But I’m not going to take over the royal apartments, nor will I be crowned King. I will be your leader,” he looked at the older son, “for now, but this is Akura’s home, and I pledge, that this beautiful place will always be known as the possession of Akura-Matapu. Now help your mother to her rooms…”

“I would have put them all in prison,” Inia said to Mitaroa, as they watched the remaining royal family depart.

“I think I just have…”

Inia nodded. “They’ll be feeling too sad, humbled and humiliated to venture far for a while, but I’d watch those boys closely…”

Mitaroa raised an eyebrow. “Them? They’re more interested in having a good time, than running a nation…even you’ve noticed that…”

“For now, they’re only kids…but boys grow up, and one day, they’ll remember how their father gave their birthright away…”

“We’ll worry about that when it happens,” Mitaroa sighed, as they watched the royal family leave. “I will lead until the oldest one is ready to take over. Right now, I have a…wife to worry about…”

Inia smiled. “Now that’s the hero we know and followed, go to her, Mitaroa…” Inia looked around at the partying people, “everyone’s having a good time, you have done your duty, no-one will notice you slip away, and…I also, have some serious celebrating to do…”

Mitaroa almost smiled as he looked at the people also. “Looks like your people are already making friends with mine…”

Inia was already dancing, swaying to the music. “We’re a likeable lot…”

Mitaroa nodded. “You certainly are…thanks for all your help, Inia…oh, and…I’ll be in need of your services in the morning too…”

Inia stopped dancing. “Huh?”

“You heard me; it’s obvious you enjoy ordering people around…”

“Guiding people…”

“Guiding people, then…”

“Are you offering me a job?”

“If you want it?”

The big Rauruan grinned. “I don’t have anything else, to do…”

The new leader of Manaia knocked on Ingari’s door. No-one answered, but the door was not locked, and it swayed at his touch, so he let himself in. Her maids blinked at him with a mixture of sadness at what had just transpired, and yet excitement also, at what was about to take place. They bowed at their new ruler, but left without the usual wedding night teasing, in respect for their distraught mistress.

They had dressed her in a beautiful soft Mo’o gown fastened on one shoulder and had also entwined some Tipani flowers in her hair, which fell in coils, past her waist. At his entrance, she turned her back to him. As he approached her however, he noticed her stiffen, and he stopped. He knew she was horrified at having just witnessed her father being killed by her lover. But he had only been defending himself, it had been a tragic accident, and it was, just that, an accident - even her father had understood, and had forgiven him.

Still entranced by her beauty, he could not resist touching the long, thick braids; he took one in his hands, and kissed it, gently breathing in the fragrance of the flowers – but she could not stop herself from flinching at his touch; still, he persisted, and moved his lips to her shoulders, then the back of her neck; but she actually shuddered in disgust and pulled away from his embrace.

“Sweetheart…” he tried, “it was a horrible accident. You can’t think I meant to hurt him…”

“You…” she whispered, “killed my father…?!”

“He attacked me! You were there, you saw what happened, heard his last words…”

She turned to face him. He was momentarily taken aback. He knew she was sad, thought she’d been crying, but the lovely large eyes that looked at him now held no red, wet swelling evidence of tears, in fact, they were quite steady, clear and – full of scorn for him. “Yes…” it was a whisper still, but one that chilled the man to the bone. “I heard his last words, and I married you…you earned the kingdom, you won your bride…so take your possessions, and…have your way with your wife!”

“Don’t talk like that, Ingari…we love each other!”

“Love?” Her voice rose at last, “my father died because of our…illicit affair!”

His voice rose. “Only your father? Many men…” he thought of the Rauruan army and Mohaka, “in fact lots of people paid dearly one way or another, because of our love! Now you despise me? Then they all…including your father, suffered…for nothing!”

She slipped her gown from her shoulder, and it fell to the floor. “How many times do you think it would take to pay for their…meaningless pain!?”

“Times? Pay? Pain? What…are you going to keep a guilt account? And…are you going to kick me out of your bed when you decide we’ve…paid in full?”

“I will do whatever our new leader; and my husband, want me to…”

It was his turn to feel repulsed. “I want us to love each other like we did. That together, our love will see us through everything, and anything!”

She stepped out of her gown which had fallen to the floor, and moved towards him. “I’m here aren’t I?”

He moved backwards. “No…!?”

She placed her hands on either side of his face. “But you earned me, and in front of the whole town, my father gave me to you. I’m your prize…”

He took her hands from his face as if to push her from him. But he held them to his lips instead. Overwhelmed by her closeness, her perfume, he almost gave in to desire.

But then she leaned towards him and whispered in his ear. “You earned my body, husband…but you will never have my heart…!?”

Now he did fling her from him. The movement caused her to step back on her long gown, which slipped under her feet, causing her to fall to the floor. For a moment he almost ran to her in concern, but she pulled her gown over her nakedness and hissed up at him. “I should have killed you when I had the chance…”

He never knew of the royal women’s plans. “What…?!”

“I should have listened to my mother!”

He’d always known her mother had never approved of him. He’d heard rumors it was because of how close his mother Riri had got to Hemi. But he’d thought it was more a racist fixation. Although the same people, the Manaian people of this new land had come to believe that they were too fine now in comparison to the Tipu-Aki of the although nowadays termed old land but actually the in between land, and perhaps even the Aitutaki of the old land, even though the Aitutaki had built their ancestral/protection totems out of white rock and made giant monumental ones known as Moai Aringa Ora, and even too fine to get their hands dirty while defending themselves from tribes from just across the Lake. Whatever the reason, her mother had actually won in the end. He backed from Ingari. In all his life of battles, he’d never felt so defeated. “I’m sorry my lady,” he mumbled as he stumbled from her room, “I’ll never bother you again…”

Outside her door, he took a few steps, then stopped and leant against a pillar. It must have been quite late now, but in town, the party was still in full swing. A bright moon shone down on him, as if to illuminate his anguish. He held onto the column, lest he slip to the ground in despair. He looked up at the moon. He knew his mother made decisions according to the firmament and its constellations. He knew she loved looking at the full moon and was probably doing so right now, across the ocean. “Were you wrong mother?” He leaned his forehead on the cool support. “Did we make a mistake?” Then he shook his head and took a deep breath. “No, you only said I will protect the Manaian…you never said I would be unhappy about it…your son, Mitaroa, did everything you wanted. The confident boy that loved life, laughed at danger, and never knew what it was like to cry…” tears rolled down his cheeks for the first time in his life. “Mitaroa the boy, never cried over any woman…Mitaroa…the boy, has gone…” he straightened, and blinked up at the moon. He remembered his mother referred to it as a mystic symbol, a heavenly gem. “Wondrous night light above, tell the lovely Riri, across the sea…that the arrogant egotistical boy, has been replaced, by…a hurting, humbled man…”

The music was haunting – and calling – as if from afar – he heard laughter – not his men’s bawdy guffaw - a sweet, little girl’s giggle - he was in a drunken stupor, he knew – he managed to blink as he reached out for his drinking gourd – where was he – what were they doing – he’d just killed Ingari’s father – no, that was a long time ago now – quite a few of those magical mystic full moons his mother loved so much had passed since then – it was always like this for Mitaroa, as he woke – sleeping was not deep enough, he always dreamed of him slaying his King, and he always re-lived that horrid moment when the lovely Ingari looked up at him from the floor with scorn, and with accusing eyes, screaming she should have killed him – if she had been the King’s son instead of daughter, he had no doubt that she would have –

He found his goblet nearby, and it had been re-filled – Mitaroa presumed a servant or friend understood – he downed the drink in one gulp - how he preferred to be beyond asleep, these days – and only drink could take him deep enough, beyond mere sleeping – and dreaming -

Then he noticed the girl – a dancing girl – so she hadn’t been a part of a dream, or figment of his imagination - she was twirling in front of him, laughing at him – the hollowed out wooden drums these people loved so much were loud, and in his state, seemed to re-sound through his head, but he, even while only half awake, still heard her sweet little laugh, and managed to smile up at her. Encouraged by the leader’s obvious approval, she moved on and danced around the fire – that’s when he realized others dancing and remembered they were celebrating – partying as usual, after having just won yet another battle –

He was about to go for some more Kawa or Mako drink, he didn’t care which, Kawa was the stronger, but any numbing substance would do, then hesitated – although flirting and laughing with other warriors, she kept looking back at him – he was used to women throwing themselves at him, but after the fatal accident which resulted in the death of Hemi on the King’s own porch, and understandably, the unforgiving wrath of the daughter, Mitaroa had not been in the mood for female company – or partying either – but there was something about this girl that caught his attention – what was it exactly – was it her dark eyes, coal shaded in the style of these people, no, Ingari’s were lovelier, even without cosmetic enhancement – was it the smile, pearly white teeth and cute dimples – no, this girl did not quite have Ingari’s bedazzling smile either – Mitaroa groaned – he wished he could stop comparing other females with Ingari – the girl was very pretty, in her own way – it was apparent that other males thought so, as most of them, hypnotized by the girl’s seductive movements, ignored the other dancers and eagerly watched the girl shake her bare breasts and belly provocatively – then he realized what it was that had held his interest, when all he really wanted to do was drink himself back into blissful oblivion – it really was a girl – with real breasts - not a feminine boy – the sort of male that usually entertained soldiers at night, in the hope that he might be successful in servicing one of the sexually starved soldiers – or, it wasn’t one of the toughened whores whose life following such men was marginally better than being homeless in a heartless town – no, she was not the rough sort that usually followed an army, she was too fresh, too fine - a fragile, foolish young female had entered the arena of raucous fighters and their equally wild companions – probably a bored, spoiled little rich brat, looking for adventure and excitement – and at the look in some of the men’s eyes, she had found it – Mitaroa groaned – he would have to try to shake himself into full consciousness, and save the girl from her naïve expectations of excitement, from the callous reality, of ruthless warriors –

He staggered towards the girl, feigning he was more inebriated than he was, and it worked. Instead of having to face frustrated and disappointed men, imagining Mitaroa was about to spoil their fun, they thought he had finally decided to get on with his life without his princess, and teasing their leader good-heartedly, left the scene to find other amusement elsewhere…

Luckily, the cool night air had cleared his mind a little, and when he knew the men were no longer interested in the girl or watching the couple, Mitaroa took the girl’s hand. She giggled as she let him lead her from the crowd, but stopped suddenly, when she realized he was not making for his bed-mat but was taking her towards the village, Rauru, instead.

He looked back at her. “What…?!”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Back home…”

“I don’t want to go home…”

“This is no place for…a lovely young lady, like you…”

“But…I came here to…to be with you!” She pulled her hand from his and ran back to his camp bedding and snuggled down defiantly.

He followed, looked down at her and sighed. Long hair falling around her shoulders, almond teasing eyes, she did remind him so much of Ingari. He sat beside her. “What’s your name?”

She smiled. “They call me…Hake…”

He tried to hide his smile and decided to play along. “Alright, little Hawk…is it because you’re swift, or because you’re cunning?”

She actually considered for a moment. “Because I’m both; and…dangerous!”

Now he really had trouble containing his mirth. “Should I be…scared?”

She pouted. “You think I’m a silly little girl…don’t you?”

“No…” he started; then nodded, “well, you’re not a…brazen woman, like you’re trying to be…”

She looked at him through her darkened eyes, like the innocent child she really was. “What…what gave me away?”

“You’re laughter…”

“My…laughter…?!” Her face glowed from the nearby firelight. She was pouting from disappointment. “Between a woman and a girl!”

“You’re more like a Kiwi, than a Hake Hawk…” he took another sip of his drink and watched her. A moment ago, she was having fun. He’d upset her. He softened towards her. He was surprised to realize how much he was enjoying her youthful company. “I may not be a brazen ‘woman of the night’, but…my job is similar, none-the-less. I’m not that much older than you, yet; to keep my men’s faith in me, as their leader, I must act as if I know what I’m doing, even if…I don’t…”

“Act?”

“Something my mother taught me…and my advisor reminded me also, not so long ago…act as if you know…that’s all; other people won’t have confidence in you, if you don’t…”

“Is she a…” the girl hesitated.

He laughed. “My mother is many things, and she uses her charms to her advantage…she has a way of getting everyone doing as she wants, as if by…” he shrugged, “she prefers to use the word…magic…”

“Magic?”

“That’s what she calls it…and in the correct sense of the word, I suppose it is…she’s good at making people think things are quite different to what they really are…”

The girl looked confused.

He tried explaining, “for instance, if she thought she wasn’t looking her best, or feeling the best, just by acting as though she was pretty, or healthy, everyone around her believes she actually is…”

“She sounds…interesting…”

Mitaroa beamed proudly. “That’s a good description of her; she’s certainly not boring…”

She moved closer to him. “Why don’t you teach me…what she taught you…?”

He moved closer to her. “Little Kiwi, I’ll teach you how to…act, and use magic, if you can teach me something in return…?”

Their lips were almost meeting.

Hers parted. “Anything, handsome Mitaroa…what is it that you; our great and fearless leader, needs to know?”

“Pretty little Kiwi, I desperately need to…forget another woman…”

“Congratulations, Mitaroa…” Tohu, pitcher and goblets in his hold, had sought out and found his boss. He almost dropped the things though, at finding Mitaroa was not alone. “Oops, sorry…?!”

Mitaroa reluctantly turned from the lovely girl and faced his friend. “Congratulations? What…why?”

Now Tohu frowned, as he looked from girl to man. “You mean…you don’t know?!”

Mitaroa shook his head in exasperation. “Know what?!”

“Ingari…” Tohu hesitated, not sure if he should tell Mitaroa, in front of the girl. “Nothing, it can wait…”

Mitaroa stood. “It must be important, for you to seek me out in the middle of the night, with drink…what is it Tohu?”

“I heard, Ingari…”

Mitaroa gasped. “Is she…what’s happened?”

“She’s had…she has had…” Tohu glanced at the girl nearby, uncertainly.

“What Tohu, what…?!”

“A baby…?!”

Mitaroa swallowed. “A…a…?!”

Tohu nodded. “A baby, Mitaroa…congratulations. It…it is good news, isn’t it?”

“I…I…” Mitaroa was speechless. He had stayed in his quarters at the barracks, and had never taken over the royal apartments, as was his right, as the rightful leader, and princess’s husband. Neither had Ingari. As far as he knew, she’d stayed in her own room, or a room made available to her in the temple area, for she had taken an interest in Tapu-namu, the Enduring Peace Priestesses representing birth, death and life, and who also mated virgins with the Atua immortals, in the past, he’d heard, or something like that. Mitaroa supposed she needed to keep herself occupied and did not presume to advise her of his doubts concerning the legitimacy of the belief. Her mother and brothers still resided in the royal residence, and he had no intention of moving the royal family from their home. Although given the title and position, he could not be crowned the rightful king anyhow, in Manaian tradition, only a supposedly half-god child, could ever be a true King. Lesser Chiefs, like leaders of the warriors, like him, ruled until a real half-God King, like Hemi, was born. That was fine with him; he was a warrior after-all, not royal, and certainly not half-god. He doubted there was any such thing, but he would respect the traditions of this land he had adopted as his new home. He would be the people’s leader, and he would protect and lead them, but as a warrior Chief, not as a royal King.

And one of the first decisions he as leader made; was that the Rauruan Inia be his Minister, his main advisor, and second in charge. Within days, Inia proved to be the better statesman anyway, and Mitaroa was confident enough in the Minister to leave Manaia in his capable hands, while he took on the job of re-building Rauru, and organizing a new army there. But he did not go to Rauru alone, as Hemi had demanded, he halved his army, and the Rauruan, the sooner the natives and the conquered managed to integrate, the better. And to his relief, his people seemed to be enjoying the fun-loving newcomers. So, he threw himself into the project fervently, as if re-building the place he’d destroyed was his penalty, or some kind of self-inflicted retribution. For the survivors had forgiven him, and even felt sorry for him, when they found out who was really behind their ruin, why the young man did it, and what happened to him when he’d returned to the actual perpetrator. Also, Mitaroa suspected it was better to live with as many miles between him and Ingari as possible, as though it were easier to exist without the woman he loved, if he never had to see her, or know she was nearby.

And during all the hard work, they’d even been attacked just recently, but although he had only half his men, and the Rauruan were still small and inexperienced, with Mitaroa’s lead, they’d managed to kill some of the marauding assailants from the other side of the country and chased off the rest. Not a serious military threat, some of the northeastern tribes had heard of the downfall of the great Mohaka, and mistakenly believed that what was left of Rauru, would be ‘easy pickings’, for those like them, who had become the enemy a long time ago, way back in the old land apparently, before the first great migration to the new land. There were a few reasons why the other tribes disliked the Taranaki people of the west, but the one most believed was that the first Manaian, Manaia, had a disagreement with Kupe just before the migration took place, and Manaia chose to live as far away from the other tribes as he could. Rauru, his brother, followed him to the west but soon after a disagreement between brothers ended with Rauru making his own village further south of Manaia. Apparently, a dispute over a woman. There were a few variations for that legendary disagreement with Kupe also, but the most believed one was that it also, was over a woman, the actual details now forgotten, but the hatred between the northeastern and western people was never forgotten. The northeastern attackers soon realized their mistake, in this latest case, when Mitaroa lead his defeated in a swift counterattack. That the Rauruan’s conqueror fought for them now was surprising enough, let alone the remaining Rauruan fighting alongside him. The bewildered northeasterners ran from the ambiguous sight, without even pausing to collect their dead. Hence, tonight’s celebrations.

They’d been concentrating on rebuilding the town, and were leaving the barracks for last, his army were used to living in tents, or outdoors, he himself, loved going to sleep under the stars, and the moon that his mother loved so much.

Right now, Mitaroa looked at his friend in shock. “I…yes, of course it’s…good news…!?!”

Tohu opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it again. A moment ago he was pleased for Mitaroa, now he was feeling a little perplexed, at the rather uncertain situation.

Mitaroa shook his head. “It’s just that…it’s just so…unexpected. But…why wasn’t I told?”

“Sorry, Mitaroa, I didn’t know that you didn’t know. I only just heard; myself…”

“I guess, everyone’s too embarrassed to tell me, under the circumstances, they all know Ingari and I have been living…apart…!?!”

“They also all know; that…you two had been seeing each other before Hemi sent you to destroy Mohaka…”

“That was supposed to be our secret…?!”

Tohu just raised his eyebrows.

“Everyone…knew?”

Tohu nodded.

Mitaroa grinned.

Tohu poured his friend a drink; and one for himself. Mitaroa indicated he already had a goblet, near his bedding. That’s when he remembered he also had a female visitor, but noticed with relief, that she had discreetly slipped away. He looked around for a moment and caught sight of her flowing skirts in the distance, as she made her way back to town. He called a nearby and trusty guard to make sure the girl made it back to her home safely, then faced his friend.

Tohu gulped. “Sorry I interrupted…”

Mitaroa gulped. “I’m glad you did…”

“In time?”

Mitaroa laughed. “Just…”

“Who was she?”

“Just a cute little bird, in a hurry to grow up into a wild Eagle…”

Tohu set the pitcher down and raised his cup. “To your firstborn child.”

Mitaroa raised his cup also. “Thanks…” and sadly thought but did not add out loud, ‘and probably, only child’…

The next day he was home, and hurrying to his wife’s room near the temple, upon being informed that she had practically lived there on a full-time basis now, since the birth of their child. When he asked the informants why, all they could say; was she believed that by devoting her life to pious service, she may one day feel exonerated, for her part in the death of her father, and for bearing her father’s killer’s child…

He found Ingari in the actual roofless temple, wearing only an unadorned Pareu cloth tied at the hips and chanting an incantation with arms outstretched before a shrine of the Manaian bird deity of birth, life and death. He had never seen the totem up close before and was surprised to find that the idol was made to replicate a scaley Tua reptile, however with outstretched wings at its sides, topped with a bird’s beaked head. For a moment, he didn’t know whether to feel disturbed by the statue or amused. He did however wonder of the representation of the symbol, and what possible pact a person seeking atonement for her sins, however imaginary, could make with such a diverse icon.

She must have thought his presence was that of one of the priestesses, or her fellow workers or worshippers, for she turned with a subtle smile, which promptly disappeared when she recognized the man who stood before her and stepping in surprise backwards, almost toppled into the totem. When Mitaroa reached out to assist her, she pulled away from his touch, and coiled from him, as if she herself, was a serpent, ready to strike….

A baby started crying, from a nearby building, and the mother’s defensive glance in that direction, betrayed the truth. All the way home, Mitaroa had trouble believing the rumor. For no royal messengers had informed him of the pregnancy, let alone the birth, and Tohu had received his information from gossiping innuendo, and no-one in his company at Rauru, could confirm the insinuations to be fact. Ingari’s move to the temple was obviously not only an attempt to redeem herself; but also, to hide the pregnancy she despised from the world. Did she despise the child also? The instinctive reaction in her eyes proved she was protective of her child, never-the-less, was she hiding it from the world as if it was - an embarrassment?

Ingari shoved past him and ran to the baby’s room, but Mitaroa, following closely behind her, pushed past her as they entered, and was at the cradle’s side first. Ingari signaled for the nanny who had been rocking the cradle, to leave them alone with their child, and when the servant had left, she moved to the opposite side of the baby’s bed. And at the sight of its mother and stranger peering down at the child from both sides, the baby stopped crying, and examined the man’s face, as he in turn peered down at his child. For a moment Mitaroa looked stunned, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes – and Ingari could finally feel her heart soften, at the sight of the father and child, intently studying each other.

Mitaroa wanted to touch it, he placed his hand on the side of the crib, then quickly withdrew it uncertainly, not sure if he should, or could. “Is…is…” he hesitated awkwardly, “Is…it…?!”

At which Ingari reached into the cradle, picked the infant up, and handed the child to her husband. “You can hold your daughter, Mitaroa…” she searched his face, as he carefully took the baby from her, for any signs of disappointment that his child was not a boy. If he was, he did not show it; in fact, he positively beamed, as he held his child close. The tiny girl looked up at him trustingly, and for the second time in his life, he could not control the tears, as they ran down his face.

Ingari frowned, concerned. “What…?!”

Mitaroa laughed between sobs. “Don’t worry, Ingari…the Mitaroa you knew was thick-skinned, and head-strong. But this new Mitaroa, likes to cry…!?”

“A significant improvement on the old; or should I say, young Mitaroa…?!”

He turned his eyes from his daughter to his wife. “Definitely…!?”

She scrutinized the man she had tried to push from her mind and heart for so many lonely months. “She has your…beautiful curls…”

“And your eyes…”

“Your prominent, determined chin…”

Mitaroa looked at the babe’s chin. “Yes, she has…”

Then the baby smiled up at him. A slight, little half-smile. “And…” he turned back to his wife, “she has your dimples…”

And for the first time, since that fateful night on the royal porch, Ingari smiled.

Mitaroa pushed the crib between them away, and reached for the woman he loved. “When? How…”

Ingari let him draw her to him. They had sat on the floor with the crib between them. Still sitting on the floor with only their child between them now, she answered, “Oh, so many questions, husband…” then, in that sarcastic manner Mitaroa remembered so well and which was a part of her charm, “what about; Hello Ingari, how are you…?!?”

Mitaroa laughed. “I’m sorry. Hello Ingari, how are you?”

Ingari shook her head as if trying to decide how she felt.. “I’m fine, thank-you…”

But Mitaroa looked at their surroundings and prodded sincerely, “you’re living in the temple ground, Ingari…how are you…really?”

“It was a long, difficult birth, but I really feel alright, now…” but she still could not say ‘now you’re back’ out loud, and simply added, “and…how are you?”

Mitaroa felt her relax in his arms, and smiled. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for the birth, but I think, I hope, we both feel a lot better, at last…”

Ingari looked down at her clasped hands, as she always did when overcome with emotion. “How did you…find out?”

“Sweetheart. Did you really think a princess could keep her baby…a secret?”

“But…only the…temple people…?!”

“Even some temple people have families…”

“Everything that happens here in the temple grounds is supposed to be…personal, private, confidential…”

“You only need one person, who couldn’t resist the temptation to confide in even just one other person, before a secret spreads, Ingari…the news of the birth even reached Rauru…”

Ingari gulped. “Rauru?!?”

“In fact, I feel as though I was the last person to find out…?!”

“Sorry…I suspected I was pregnant when you first went there, and I had planned to tell you when you returned, but…” she choked as she always did when she thought of that horrendous night, “as you know, things turned out quite different to what I’d…we’d expected…”

Mitaroa could see she was struggling to keep the tears from spilling, so he did not push for more information. Instead, he changed the subject. “What did you name her?”

“I haven’t yet,” Ingari’s laughter overtook her tears, “just…’the baby’. She’s almost three new moons old already, and still name-less…”

In Rauru, not only have I been busy re-building the city and organizing a government and army, the Rauruan have been teaching me about…’Hinehoe’.”

“Hinehoe?”

“Which means having everything in balance and order. Everything has its own place, and everything suits and compliments each other, rather than just placing a bed here, and putting a trunk there, without much thought…that sort of thing…homemaking is usually a woman’s thing, so Hine represents a young girl thinking of these things before marriage, and hoe means paddling, in other words, putting it together, making it work…”

“Ah, like Whiu-Taurite…”

“Whiu-Taurite?”

“That’s what we Manaian call living in peace and harmony. Don’t you sea-people have anything like that where you come from?”

Mitaroa thought of the simple and practical buildings at Takitumu of Tipu-Aki that were designed for a purpose, had little artistic appeal, and grandeur was virtually non-existent. “No…not really…”

“Don’t you want to call your daughter after your mother, or that other famous female ancestor of yours, what was she called? That’s right, Erena?”

“No…do you want to name her after your mother, or grandmother?”

Ingari looked at their little girl. “She’s the first child born to the combined Tipu-Aki-Manaian. She should have her own name, like WhiuTaurite…”

“Or Hinehoe…”

“Or both?”

“Hinehoe-Whiu’Taurite?”

They both shook their heads and said in unison, “Nah…”

“But…” Ingari voiced what was on both of their minds, “Whiu’Taurite-Hinehoe…”

“Sounds better,” Mitaroa agreed, “bit of a mouthful, though…what about just Whiu-Hinehoe?”

Ingari smiled, “Whiu-Hinehoe…that’s nice, although…you do realize, that long names usually get shortened and she’ll probably end up just being called Whiu?”

Mitaroa screwed up his nose. “Then we’d better make sure it gets shortened by shortening it first ourselves, to…Hinehoe.”

Ingari playfully punched her husband. “So, you’ve ended up getting your own way, after-all!?!”

They laughed.

“How appropriate though,” he whispered to the child now contentedly dozing in his arms, “for our little girl, has re-united her estranged parents, in peace and harmony…” then he turned to Ingari, “she has; hasn’t she?”

Ingari shrugged. She didn’t think that she’d ever get over her marrying the man who killed her father. But she knew that she wanted to try. “I…I think so…”

Over the next few years though, regardless of the ‘monsters in the water’ safety rumor to keep children from possibly drowning while playing in water on their own, it was noted that the girl loved splashing and swimming in water, and would lie in it contentedly for ages, and she ended up being called Hinewai – ‘water girl’…

Both parents looked at the little girl who was unaware of the part she had played in re-uniting her parents, a few years earlier, as a babe.

“Look at her,” Ingari sighed, “she is the embodiment of her name…her real name, Hinehoe.”

Mitaroa gulped, as if Ingari had been reading his mind. He turned to the little girl, who was still calmly studying her work, and knew what Ingari was referring to. “Yes, no other child would be happy to spend hours indoors with art materials, especially when the weather is so lovely outside…”

“Yet…your mother thinks Hinewai’s like her?!?”

“Mother meant…”

“I know what Riri means, in her…heart…”

“You…disagree?”

“Just…look at her…”

“You see a small, lovely girl, who is not in the least bit interested in outdoor sports…”

“Yes…” Ingari turned to her husband. “Do you see something else?”

“I also see a small lovely girl, but…one that is not interested in girl’s pastimes, like her dolls, and one who excels at outdoor sports, even though she prefers to be learned. Quite a combination…”

“For army life…?!?”

“My mother’s not large, or physically strong, but she is agile and swift, and I believe she depends on her clever cunning mind, instead of brute strength…”

“Your mother wouldn’t comprehend the meaning of peace and harmony…”

“But of course, I do!” Riri had entered the room, holding Reina’s hand. Both Mitaroa and Ingari flinched. They hadn’t heard the woman and girl enter. “In fact,” Riri continued, “the more one witnesses the horrors of senseless carnage and destruction, the more one appreciates peace and harmony…sounds ironic, I know, but…the job of an army, is to ensure our loved ones live in peace. To protect our family, and property. I know people think we must be heartless, to be capable of fighting. But it is because of our hearts that we defend our loved ones. And there would be no ‘peace and harmony’, without us…”

Ingari raised an eyebrow. She considered saying, ‘there would be no need to have an army defend against another army if armies did not exist in the first place, and if everyone lived in peace and harmony, but knew it futile to argue against a woman whose very existence relied on her army life, so she remained silent.

“Mother.” Mitaroa intervened, “I thought we’d be summoned to join you, when ready…?”

“Well, we decided to join you.” Riri looked at Reina, “didn’t we?”

Reina nodded and looked up at her grandmother adoringly.

Ingari rolled her eyes, as both Mitaroa’s daughters seemed enamored of the foreign grandmother that had just turned up without much warning.

Mitaroa knew what was going through Ingari’s mind and took her hand. “That was a long interview,” he said to his mother, “how did it go?”

Riri looked at Reina. “Go join your sister, now…”

Reina obeyed the woman, and joined Hinewai, who was carefully placing her pictures out on the balcony, to dry. Reina helped her.

Before Mitaroa had a chance to call a servant to ask for a raised seat, Riri sat with the parents on the floor. She was still agile and did it so swiftly that Mitaroa decided not to bother about having a comfortable seat carried in for his mother.

Riri even gracefully managed to place her feet to one side. “You have two remarkable daughters, son…”

Mitaroa nodded. “I know. So is Reina…the one?”

“Their interests may differ,” continued Riri, “but they are both, very clever girls.”

Mitaroa sighed. “Mother…?!?”

“Alright, alright…” Riri shook her head. “No!”

The answer was so forthright that even though they heard the answer they were both expecting to hear, it still took the couple by surprise. The sisters on the balcony too, stopped what they were doing, to listen to the adult’s conversation.

Mitaroa squeezed Ingari’s hand, as he was all too aware of her inside groan.

Mitaroa looked at his mother. “Just like that…no?!?”

Riri looked at her son. “Just like that. No.”

“Because…?” Prompted Mitaroa.

“As I said, your daughters are both clever, and they are very similar, in yet so different…” Riri paused.

The girls smiled proudly at each other at the grandmother’s praise. Their expressions soon changed though to that of a mixture of relief, yet also disappointment. Ingari instinctively knew what her fate was to be, and although his mother’s next words sounded absurd to Mitaroa’s ears; the son would do whatever his mother believed was destined to be, as Riri continued, “as I said earlier, Hinewai is not the one, because she is too hard. Well, Reina is also not the one, because she is…too soft…”

Mitaroa shook his head. “It…it’s the other way around, mother…”

Riri shook hers. “Things aren’t always as they appear to be, son…”

Go to Chapter Three

THE ONE