On the Wings of Birds

ON THE WINGS OF BIRDS

Tanika Smith Wheatley

This is a work of fiction based on historical facts

and some of the author’s ancestors

© 2023

“Go and sit with your grandmother,” my mother told me, “talk with her…”

I was young at that time, and my first impulse was…”boring”…

But I did, and I’m so glad that I obeyed my mother… …

This is a story that my grandmother told me about her grandmother Hiue Hinehoe A’Tane called Hinewai, who although small in build, had been known as The Warrior Princess of the Mountain People of Taranaki. Torn between two loves, she would obey her father and marry an enemy Prince of the Te Arawa people of the Bay of Plenty on the other side of the vast desert and great lake. She devoted her life to protecting her younger sister who had been prophesied to be the mother of a great King who was predicted to bring peace to their ever precarious, world of war…but it was her own child who inevitably and ultimately, managed to do so…

Hinewai – interested in knowledge and the arts, she soon realized how her enthusiasm for learning would help with her warrior training, and how her creative talents would be put to use in designing her own weapons – she would become a famous and feared fighter – who focused on only one cause – to unite a divided people and restore the traditions of their sea-faring ancestors…

Reina – the half-sister, spent her life trying to be noticed and accepted as part of the most important family in the area – yet refusing to take the sister’s duties seriously, until she found herself helping the ‘hope’ of her people, and their future, by assisting her younger sister, and their young sons, escape an attack on their village, by climbing up their beloved mountainside…

Tairi – the youngest and smallest, she was the people’s choice, known as ‘the one’ – lovely, compassionate, and gifted – also fun-loving, mischievous, and playful - but often overwhelmed and sometimes even a little resentful of what was expected of her - yet she would endure; because of the many sacrifices of others, starting with that of her own mother…

This is their story, their lives; filled with hope, adventure, love, envy, and betrayal – from an ambitious grandmother to the greed and envy of those closest to them – and how they overcame all obstacles, to re-unite their people, and re-build one of the most powerful kingdoms of the ancient world, that had been swiftly fading into a mythical past…

SUNSET

They were moving closer for the kill – how many were there – four, five? The smell was unbearable – she wanted to cough and gag, but could not – she could not move – could not feel – one of them hovered above her face and she looked into its eyes – black, soulful, misty eyes – filled with hunger, yet also an unsure fear – as if it recognized a fellow slayer – as though it read the determination in the dying yet steadfast eyes before it – as if it sensed the despair and betrayal there also - so this is how it feels, she thought to myself – she wanted to laugh in its face at the irony of it all – she, the predator – ending up the prey – but she could only look helplessly at the brute and hope the end would come quickly. The others were moving around her legs; legs she couldn’t move or feel anymore, and the one by her face snarls and moves closer. It is drooling at the mouth. Long thick slime; as if in slow motion, swaying before her eyes - and for a moment, she was distracted and involuntarily; her eyes turn to its forked tongue. She tries to return her sight to its eyes, stare at it fixedly, as if to unnerve the hideous beast; but she couldn’t turn her gaze from its foul-smelling snout. She never realized how large Tua were before, she’d believed the largest to be only about half the size of people. But she, was only about half the size of these ones. Or was her imagination going wild with fear. And their teeth – longer than she’d thought; sharper, made for tearing. And ripping.

There’s a scream from up above on the cliff-top somewhere – not one of her warriors, they would never make a sound, they strike at the enemy in silence, and slip into the next life just as soundlessly, if stricken – so with some solace, she knew that Takari, her assassin, was being attacked in turn, and the beat of her heart escalates in elation at the thought that she was being avenged – that she had an avenger – who could only have been Hauku, her warrior trainer and first love, and she knew that she could rely on him to save her sister, ‘the chosen one’, and her child. Her thoughts turned to Kahu; I will never see you again my husband…your mischievous dimpled grin, I will never feel your warm embrace…if only you’d been here…but she knew, had he also been nearby, he would have hesitated – oh, he fought bravely when he had no choice, but she alone knew his weakness – he thought too much, and cared too much, to ever be an instinctive warrior, even when her life was at stake – but was I not partly to blame? She asked herself. for wasn’t it me who always told him that ‘what would be would be’? That no-one could change what was written in the stars?

She can hear rocks dislodging, and even though she could not turn to see what was happening, she knew that now, the cunning Takari was falling, as she had done only moments earlier, falling to his death – then, the dull sound of breaking bones crashing on sharp rocks nearby reverberated throughout the earth. Even the Tua momentarily glanced in his direction, as if considering which might be the better feast. The Tua generally do not hunt during the day, which may be the reason for their hesitation – as if instinctively wondering if they should wait; it is late, but not yet dark - or take advantage of a helpless victim that has fallen helplessly among them, unable to escape…

How she wanted to see Takari, face him, scorn him, for her people had won in the end, and he had lost – she wondered how he felt, what must be going through his mind, right now – was he torn and twisted like her? Was he able to move, or make a sound? Or was it already all over for him? She hoped not, she wanted him to suffer and to realize at the last that he had lost – not only his ambitious aspirations, to find and destroy the Manaian people, but he had lost, and had paid with his life. Then she heard a gurgling groan and would have laughed aloud; if she could, because it was not quite over for him yet, either…

Then the reptile that had been closest to her head turned its attention back to her. Waiting for the beast to strike seemed to take forever; yet, even in this predicament, she was able to marvel at her senses – which had been sharpened during the course of her life as a warrior; still, she could never remember the blue of the sky beyond the monster in her face to be so intense, or the smell of the sea, crashing on the rocks only meters away, nor the smell of the sand dunes, discarded shells, and salty cliffs around her – also a mixture of seaweed and – she sighed – above the dunes and cliffs, the crimson flowered Pohutukawa trees that she loved so much and that are momentarily in radiant full bloom – then realization hit – she would never see those glorious bright red trees again – and I will never sit in their shade with Hauku again either – he who loved the Pohutukawa as much as she - and she gulped – my sister’s life is in his hands now - how will she cope without me? My loyal family, my trusted warriors - will they be able to protect her, the chosen one of the Tatau Tapu-namu (enduring peace priestesses), and her yet unborn child of Akiwa, the Ponaturi Lord of the under-water-world?

The reptile – dark, menacing - hisses and opens its mouth wider – she doesn’t want to see, but she also wanted to hang on to consciousness for as long as possible, to savor every last second of her life – so with a soundless wince, she managed to shift her gaze back to the sky. There’s a bird – a seabird? No, it was a Hake hawk, circling overhead – did she gasp? Did she flinch? Just a little? Reach her hand out? Point? How appropriate; she thought, since she had been educated in the ways of the Manai-Aha, the war-bird deity – but – it seemed familiar – could it be her sister’s long lost pet that she had named Atu? Surely not, she convinced herself, not after all this time – and then she frowned - what’s happening to the sky? Mesmerized, she watched as the clear blue heavens started turning darker, and darker, to the richest, deepest hue. Then a splash of crimson joined the darkening blue and reflected in the horizon – that reminded her of Kahu’s beautiful Kuruwhengi feather cape – she could no longer see the hawk up there, yet – can she still hear it? Surely not - feathers flapping on the wind - then shadows – movement – more flapping – cloaks – and loin Pareu cloths and swishing reed belts - gathering – closer – people – voices - calling – wailing – shouting “Taniwha” at the reptiles, which originally meant ‘monsters that are usually acquainted with water’ in an attempt to keep the children from swimming alone – but the term is used for anything frightening, these days - the ones around her legs scamper away, but the one in her face hesitates – then it, too, squeals in protest as it is hit at and chased off until reluctantly, it joins its hungry pack in pursuit of the easier meal, lying nearby…

Now that the beast’s had gone, like a shadowy cloud moving out of the way, she could feel the sun – a warm, gentle sunray - on her face. Not the bright sun of a fresh morning, nor the hot burning sun of the sweltering afternoon, but the soft, soothing sphere of a breezy, balmy evening. A sun preparing to retire for the night - the golden globe gliding softly and slowly towards the seabed…

A soft evening sea-breeze dances in across the rippling waves from the horizon, daintily skipping across the rocks and dunes - barely blowing the top-sand, and hardly touching the dune-scrub. Ahhh, evening - the time of the day that she loved the most. I’m glad I can feel it, enjoy the sensation one more time, she thinks to herself, and it’s so luxurious, so spellbinding, that I feel content to remain enveloped in this blissful euphoria until the very end. She wants to sigh, as if she’d just lowered herself into an intoxicating, and tantalizing heated bath, the luxurious habit she’d shared with Kahu. She’d always liked to swim, and soak in water, but nothing compares to the hot pools that Kahu and his people had and loved so much - the therapeutic soaking that they’d looked forward to after a gallop along the precarious and slippery geyser plateaus that was his world. That’s when she realized that she couldn’t sigh. And she wondered, if she was even still breathing at all…

She could see the ocean too, now that the Taniwha Tua had gone to plague Takari instead – the horizon stretching out to the sky, and she watched the magnificent sun setting, dropping closer, and ever closer, towards its watery bed below. And she didn’t know how, but – she thought that she was following the sun – she felt its magnetism, its alluring pull – so this is how it feels to leave this world, she’d always imagined it would be just like ‘going to sleep’. But here she was, gliding weightlessly, on an enticing, sinking sunbeam. She knew she would follow the bright disc and drop into the dark depths below also. But the sun will rise again, with the dawn of yet another new day, and in this state of euphoric stupor, she wonders – will I? I think not…

Wait! Did she hear a cry? A baby’s cry – yes, from somewhere up there on the clifftop, as the sun balances momentarily on the horizon, she heard the cry of a newborn child and as though a lifelong duty had been achieved at last, she actually managed to smile...

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

“She’s dead…”

Was that young Krimi? Of course, her trusted weapons bearer was always the first, by her side. Not yet, Krimi, not quite, but she could not tell him.

There’s a flapping around her, like the folding of wings as she is being lifted. Surely not the bird; no, Hauku was holding her, his head first embedded in her hair, then his cheek near my cheek, his tears falling all over her face…she’d never known him to cry, or show much emotion at all…her people tried to take her from him, their robes flapping in the soft breeze, as they moved, assuming it would require a few to take her back up the cliff, but he refused to let her go, so they helped him climb with her in his arms. So gentle, she didn’t feel a thing as her limbs hung lifelessly askew amid the clothing of her bearers and she’s glad she didn’t feel anything anymore, as they slip and stumble on their slippery, treacherous, rocky climb – not all the way back to the top of the cliffs, but up to the village. So, what is this phenomenon, she asks herself? She can feel herself being carried by both her people, and the submerging sunbeam. She wants to tell them not to bother, that she’s enjoying being whisked away with the plummeting sun, but she couldn’t. So, she decides to concentrate on them instead. She can smell sweat, of the warrior Hauku that held her close. Muka, so there are Pononga servants among them. She could smell Tapa dyes, so some must be Noble – and she can smell Hinu oil of fish, and many things, including what they ate and drank recently? So ironic, that now she couldn’t feel at all; her senses were so much sharper?

She feels as though she has been drugged and with a start, realized – when was the last time that she – breathed? Physically took a breath, she could not remember, nor, she also realized, did she care – it was so pleasant just – being, without consciously or unconsciously doing - anything. As they move, she catches glimpses of her surroundings between her people and that’s when she saw him. Takari’s broken body where he’d fell and finally, she managed a laugh - or did she? No-one seemed to notice – for the easier meal the reptiles turned to was him, and even at this distance, she could see the horror in his eyes as they closed in for the kill. How triumphant she felt. For she had finally accomplished her lifelong responsibility. And not only had she protected ‘the chosen one’, which was her own beloved younger sister, and her newborn child, he ended up being reptile’s food. What a way for a warrior, even a horrid one like Takari, to go. That would be more despicable than losing a battle, and she almost felt sorry for him. For she knew that her people would not go to his aid. And she knew that the fighting between her people and his was over already, for it was silent now, no clashing of weapons, no agonizing death cries of the enemy up there in the temple on the cliff-top; or the village, it was quick, it was brief; it was the Manaian Makimoi army way, it was merciless. There would be no prisoners, there would be no survivors to collect their dead. or return to whence they came, to rebuild another army to come back and take revenge; Takari, had lost, and was dying alone, on the hard coastal rocks, a monster’s meal…

Her people were in their village at last, she could see the carnage of the battle, but she could also see the main totem pillar in the middle - the beautiful Manai-Aha bird totem still stood, despite the wreckage of war – a slight twist of her bearers also enabled her to notice that the totem up on the temple still stood as well, the temple where she had spent many long hours in meditation and prayer; worship and dance, and healing - the balance a warrior needed in his or her perilous life, the serene sanctity amidst crazed warfare – and although she had presumed that she’d return to Te Arawa and her husband and son, a part of her felt glad that she was dying in her own home - this was the home of their forefather Manaia, which had his tall deity totem Tu-Matauenga in the middle, the totem of the war Manai-Aha bird-God of the old land, and for the original and reinstated Priestess healers of the beliefs of the ancients – the imposing temple overlooking the sea which had been added to and renovated by her father, in memory of his wife, her mother – and before it the smaller temples as a part of the temple site, with the main man-made temple strategically placed to face the sinking of the sun, as was my mother’s death wish - because the modern day Tapu-Manu male healers had become a ‘male priests only’ tradition (out of fear that the female may be superior healers) but my father discharged the males the day they could not save his Queen, and bought back the female Tatau Tapu-namu healers (who had gone into hiding during the male domination due to possible persecution) to finally be able to publicly perform their craft without fear of prejudice and persecution. Recently however, it was the male healers who organized the mating of the Underworld God with Tairi, the chosen one, in an effort to be reinstated as worthwhile priests, and it worked - if not so much for the minimum knowledge of healing, but for the sacred arts of the ancestors – for to date, the Manaian people were undefeated – and to make sure they stay that way, a superior child of the Gods should assure they remain unconquered, as divine prophecy assures…

Only the gods know all the reasons why we fight, and fall; why we pray, protect, and wait for that special half immortal child to be born of the best of the mortal maidens of the fertile land of the upper world, and the best of the Lords of Rarohenga, the underwater world, thought to be the crossroad to the here-after. A pact that was made between the original lords of the upper and underworlds, a pact that must be kept; if we are to forever be the greatest and strongest inhabitants of this world, with the seed of both the upper and underworld domains, to rule. Only a child of both, is wise enough, strong enough, clever enough, and understanding enough, to be a true Ruler. It has always been so in the old land and should be so now, in the new. Her husband Kahu’s people claim to be descendants of Gods from the skies, and they were so mighty a tribe that it would eventually take a traitor to help the new enemies from Europe, find them - our beliefs included possible similar divinity claims all over the Pacific…only the Gods, and maybe some of our priests and priestesses, knew and understood it all. Hinewai did not. She only knew her purpose in this life, her part in the mystery of it all. Which was perhaps the most important part to play in this plan; in the survival of her people, their beliefs, traditions, and lifestyle…

She could still see the sky and the sea, turning into a brilliant canvass of purple and red and now as the sun sinks, the horizon is sprinkled with splashes of orange – her favorite colors – and – she found that she could actually look directly into the sun; without having to turn away, or shade her eyes – my eyes did not hurt, or water – and although she knew her people had taken her indoors, in a part of the main apartments that still stood in the aftermath of war, she was also aware that somehow a part of her was also still drifting towards the bright, golden globe – and the sun and she are both sinking, spiralling downwards into the ocean – the under-water-world – together - so she stares at the disc that is taking her on her last journey – lifelessly stare – when to her astonishment, the glowing disc suddenly swapped colors with its surrounds – it became purple and the sky and sea became bright, so brightly white that for a fleeting moment she wished she could tell someone, anyone. “Look, Hauku, look Krimi, look…can you see it? See what happens when you pass over, death is not horrid, to be feared - it is lovely…so radiant…so bright…so beautiful…look Hauku, look…look at the phenomenon...

When with one last shrill, the hawk soared past overhead once more and with the sound of the Manai Aha bird-God echoing throughout its blessed temple up on the cliff, the sun enfolded her, and they both…dropped into the dark, cerulean sea…

Go to Chapter Two

BEFORE