On the Wings of Birds

THE ONE

“I’m scared…I can’t see a thing…I don’t know which way to go or turn, I don’t even know if the fighting is over, or not, or who won…?!”

“Shhh…we can’t see, so we must rely on our ears. It’s over; the sounds of fighting have stopped. In fact, it’s too quiet…no cries of the wounded and dying, no cheers of the winners. I know who won anyway, there was never any doubt about that…hopefully, we can escape unseen; before the battle dust settles…”

“You don’t believe that do you?”

“No…”

“But…we’ve seen her; she’s just a little girl…not the Amazon we were led to believe, the huge, strong blood-crazed woman everyone has been talking about…”

“Which is all the more frightening…while the men are having trouble believing their own eyes, she’s slaughtering them…”

“They say she enjoys killing…”

“You saw her, she does…I’ll never forget the sound of her hysterical laughter as she attacked…”

“They say she shows no mercy, and takes no prisoners…”

“They say she likes it when the war and wind stir up the sand and dirt like this…that although it hinders normal men, she can still see…”

They are right. I, Hinewai thought, unlike most warriors, find the stirred-up haze of the battleground helpful, rather than a hindrance. It makes me feel invisible. And like all humans, I probably can’t actually see either, yet; I do see, somehow…it’s hard to explain…it’s more like relying on sounds, rather than relying on sight alone…something my grandmother taught me when we first met on her only ever visit to date…instinct, she’d called it, and intuition…not to think, or try…just relax and allow myself to focus and be aware of everything happening around me without the use of my eyes…she said that with practice, one could develop the skill until awareness became anticipation…I didn’t fully understand her at the time, but I am beginning to now...

And I am a girl still, although I also have heard the exaggerated rumors, I suppose big strong men need to believe I’m a big strong woman, as if the possibility of a small girl being victorious on the battlefield was just too absurd. I don’t know if I actually enjoy killing though, to be honest, I’ve never thought about it…again, as instructed by my grandmother. Since the very first time I killed a man, I never think about it…and I believe that’s my ultimate weapon…I don’t allow myself the time to think about it, I just do what has to be done at the time…and after warring, when I do have the time to consider my options, it’s no longer important enough to justify wasted contemplation. Then, of course, there are the odd occasions, like this, when obscured by the murky, choking miasma, and knowing there are only a few left to slay, that I can take a moment to listen to them talk to each other, as if hearing their own voices confirmed they were still alive…they don’t even know I am right there with them…behind them…it’s at these times that I allow myself to take my time and let them sweat and shiver with fear just a little longer…so I suppose, I must enjoy it…

“They say you don’t even know she’s there…except…except…”

“You can smell her perfume, before you see her…

“Out of all the Manaian scents, which is her favorite?”

“I don’t know…what’s that fragrance we can smell now?”

I forward rolled between the two remaining men of the enemy and from my position lying on my back on the ground, looked up at them and smiling sweetly, say, “it’s called Tarata, made from the honey-based lemonwood plant…I believe you people call it Remana…?!?”

The men, instead of attacking, hesitated in confusion and disbelief, just long enough, for me to simultaneously shove forked knives, my favorite whalebone weapons, because they became like extensions of my arms and fingers, up in between their legs, whilst rising into a sitting position, impaling their bodies so suddenly and swiftly that it would appear to any possible witnesses that they are lifted from the ground from where they stood. Although I am seemingly holding two men above me, and contrary to the gossip, I am not strong. I can see though, how any witnesses of such deeds would think so. Speed, surprise and maybe a little of the so-called hypnotic magic my grandmother spoke of, are the only skills a small child warrior like me, can depend on.................mused Hinewai while in action…

As always after a battle, far from home, Mitaroa’s first concern is that of his men. He wanders the camp, making sure everyone’s there, the wounded and dead being attended to by the doctors and their assistants, and the rest making sure their weapons were being cleaned, sharpened, and oiled, in readiness for the next fight. Maintenance of weapons always came first after war, after collecting any booty from the enemy. There were hardly ever any prisoners, his daughter and her closest comrades always made sure of that. He would prefer to be merciful, but she and her closest friends, were the only ones who did not obey his commands. And because of his guilt, at having introduced his once gentle, lovely little girl to the horrors of war in the first place, when she was originally so opposed to even the thought of being a part of the army, he always let her have her own way. Always a positive sort, he’d justify her malice by thinking that at least he wouldn’t have to care for or guard any captives, and her vindictive actions put such terror in the hearts and minds of their adversaries that often, in the minds of the enemy, they had already lost, before the actual battle had even begun.

After a win, celebrating is an important part of keeping a warrior’s morale up also. After having just slaughtered and watching others being killed, socializing with fellow comrades helps lesson the horror of their careers and helps promote teamwork, and Mitaroa himself, was usually the first to dance once the post-war-party began, usually in the evening, around the campfires. The fighters deserved these revelries, and they usually lasted almost throughout the whole night, with sentries taking turns guarding. If the battles were nearer to home of course, after spoils and maintenance, the warriors would clean themselves, and the whole town would rejoice. Whenever the army returned victorious the city would celebrate anyway, and Mitaroa’s reputation was such, that he’d never failed, and it appeared his daughter, although still a child; or because of it; was quickly gaining the same fame.

After completing his rounds, Mitaroa would finally check on his daughter. Who, he always found, along with the others who had joined the army when she had, would still be working on their weapons, or themselves, long after the rest of the army would be already partying. He always left her for last, because he knew she would not need him; regretfully, since she’d joined the army, she never seemed to need anyone, anymore…

She had always been independent, Ingari was not healthy enough to be a full-time mother, and he had two tribes to look after, plus a few surrounding sub-tribe families. But when she was barely out of swaddling clothes, Hinewai attached herself to a teacher; Tutaki; who seemed fascinating to the child, who realized at a young age that she wanted to know everything, and Tutaki appeared to the child to have a never-ending source of knowledge, so she would follow him around almost all day, pestering him with questions. And although a girl, the teacher could not resist encouraging such an enquiring mind, hence, while most of his male students yearned to be playing and had difficulty concentrating because they felt frustratingly trapped in tuition, his female protégé excelled not only at academics but also the arts. It was not common for females to attend educational sessions, they did have female tuition like weaving, making clothing for their families and warriors, basketmaking, and other similar handcrafts, but Hinewai was the daughter of their leader, their heroic protector, and no-one ever said ‘no’ to the girl, one of the very first things the child noticed, and always used to her advantage. So, although ‘spoiled’, having occupied most of her first years with tuition, Hinewai never caused any concerns for her parents to worry about.

Now though, Mitaroa was not sure whether he should worry, or not. His daughter, it seemed, excelled at everything she put her mind to, even if at first, she had been repelled by the very thought of army life. He could not fault her regimental focus which, combined with instinctive reactions rather than calculated strategy, Mitaroa had to concur that once again; his mother had proved to be right, that like it or not, Hinewai had the potential to be a well-tuned fighter. What unnerved him about his daughter though, was; she never seemed upset after killing. It was not unusual for young boy cadets to cry after their first few war experiences, and even after many years of war, and witnessing their friends being killed, some of the men still did. He himself had often felt like it, but he would never allow himself the luxury; he had to prove to his famous warrior mother that he was worthy; to be her son. He’d tell himself Hinewai was doing the same thing, but he didn’t really believe it. No, he suspected the girl had somehow overcome all normal fears, to be capable of being the ultimate protector, because it was a duty that was expected of her. As if to be cold and unfeeling, was the only way she could perform the life that fate, in the form of her warrior ancestors, especially her grandmother, had destined for her. For theirs was a long list of famous fighters, with a few female ones as well, from the now legendary Erena, to Riri, and now apparently, Hinewai…

Others believed the girl had been affected by the very first time she had killed a man. At seven, she had joined the army along with a group of seven-year-old boys, but being a girl, she was not expected to sleep at the barracks and was sent back to her own room at night, so for a while, army life for Hinewai was learning about weapons and their uses, how to care for them, and she spent the first few months mainly with the weapons bearers.

Combat training was introduced slowly. First, mainly stretching exercises, power stances and balance, how to ‘break-fall and roll’ safely, self-discipline, and focus, followed by the art of defense and finally, at the age of eight, attacking strategies. By the age of nine, daily exercises included full contact, whereby all warriors would commence their training by receiving and in turn giving a hundred punches to the stomach, in their ‘focus’ stance, concentrating on drawing the power from the earth below up through their legs, and down from the sky above through their heads, to ‘power’ their center and enable them to withstand the onslaught. At first, Hinewai secretly believed that thinking about the earth and the sky was really to take their minds off the pain and remembers how the next day’s punches hurt more than the first because their stomachs were still bruised and unhealed by the previous day’s onslaught. She also remembers however, how within a week or so their stomachs started getting used to it; and how within a month or two the punches no longer hurt; so, either concentrating on the earth and the sky really did work; or, and more likely; their little bodies were hardening to the regular beatings. All beginners were amazed at this technique, and how the pain gradually diminished to being ‘non-existent’, and how their stomachs built up their own physical padding required in the form of muscles; and their minds built up the mental strength; to take the assault without feeling it or losing balance. So, for the first two years in the army, for a curious girl like Hinewai, whose mind constantly craved knowledge, the girl gradually forgot her aversion to army life, which to her, became just like another form of knowledge. And before she realized it, Hinewai found she started enjoying her lessons, and eagerly looked forward to her regular training sessions.

Usually, when a new group joined the army, they formed an alliance which often continued throughout life. Names were usually decided upon for each new group and without consulting Hinewai, the boys chose ‘Aiotia’ because it meant ‘Eagle-eyed’ but ironically, the term was one also associated with the mythical female fighters of the northern Tipu-Aki seafarers, so although unintentionally, the name suited, as it was the female of the group that would become the one most remembered and feared throughout the then known new world.

With Hinewai’s group however, the boys at first resented having a female among them and at first, did not encourage a close friendship with the girl. But when they noticed that the trainers also resented her presence and worked harder with her than with anyone else, hoping she might ‘run home crying to her mother’ and to never return, the boys grew to respect her determination, and the way she took the cruel abuse without flinching, or complaining to her father. Nikau, the most confident of the boys, and as such considered the leader of the group, even one day came to her defense, but to his surprise, she attacked him instead of the trainer at fault and later, screamed at the boy to ‘never interfere again, that if she were to become the very best, she had to be able to take on the very worst’ and the boys of her team then became her best admirers and supporters ever since. And eventually, even the trainers got used to her presence and grudgingly admitted, she was as good as, or even better, than most other students of her age.

By the time she was ten, and through messengers, at his mother’s insistence, Mitaroa had started taking her to war. And at Hinewai’s insistence, Nikau and the rest of her fellow cadets accompanied her. Usually, they did not start attending real battles until the age of fourteen, so they were surprised at the number of children living among the ‘non-fighting’ army people. The Aiotia were supposed to stay with the army group of non-fighters, like doctors and weapons bearers; but on her very first army outing, when she thought her father needed help, as he fought with a larger man than himself, she had slipped away un-noticed from her position with the non-fighters, and had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, from behind and then between the giant’s legs, and shoved a Tao spear up through her father’s opponent, into his stomach. Mitaroa did not know who looked more astonished, himself, or his assailant; and as the dying man hovered above the little girl, his expression was one of disbelief and shock, his blood spraying all over her. For a moment, it seemed as though time stood still, as the huge male warrior and little girl looked at each other. For such was the sight that the other warriors, of both sides; stopped fighting in amazement. Mitaroa was also stunned at the scene – more so, as being the closest to her, he heard a little girl’s giggle escape the child. To this day, he’d kept telling himself it was a gasp he had heard, as the girl tried to comprehend what she’d just done. His first impulse was to comfort the girl. But when she blithely slid out of the way of the falling man and smiled at her father, he felt as though he was the one who needed consoling. He’d never forgotten how proud she looked at that time, as though awaiting praise. That to her way of thinking at the time, this very act, was what she had been training for, was what her father and grandmother expected of her. He didn’t have a chance to say anything though, for his men cheered and lifted her up on their shoulders, the war forgotten, as both sides unofficially agreed to a temporary truce – the others, gratefully, as they had been losing, and the few remaining were glad to escape with their lives.

From that time on, she became known as the girl who had stopped a war. Of course, the exaggerated rumors went from the small girl who had killed a huge man, to her being a gigantic, unbeatable, and an unmerciful wild Manaian warrior woman who had slain several men with just one swing of a Tai’Aha spear. Which incredibly, served to help Mitaroa’s invincible army even more so; for when the enemy knew ‘the crazy female’ was involved, they already believed that they had lost. Some think she’s been in some sort of shock since that first experience, and that when or if she eventually comes out of it, she may return to being the sweet little girl she used to be, and may not even remember her hostile army life…they may be right, Mitaroa thought, but did not really know what to think, and he was not sure if he’d like that to happen or not, now…her reputation alone, exaggerated or not, was their best defense…

Now, a few full seasons after her first, and the dust had settled after another war, and Mitaroa was satisfied that everyone was accounted for and ready to party, he sought out his daughter. He knew where she’d be. As everyone else was already starting to drink and brag about their latest exploits, whether heroic or imaginary, in contrast to her swift battle deeds, she would linger over her care of her weapons; and herself. For someone who was hard and cold on the battlefield, she became soft and gentle while cleaning up after a fight. She would spend the longest time making sure her favorite knives – which she had designed and drawn up to be custom made for herself out of whale bone – something which astounded the others, but to which Mitaroa had attributed to her earlier interest in art – were cleaned, sharpened, oiled and wrapped – if close to home, she would then soak in a perfumed Pati hollowed tree-trunk bath, like a small canoe – away from home, she would swim in a river but if none were to be found close by, carefully oil herself – and her Aiotia group followed her example. Most fighting men did not care about cleanliness, and in some conditions where any water found, it was too precious to waste for washing purposes, and supplies often too scarce, having pride in their appearance was considered extravagant – most had weapons bearers, but cadets did not, so a quick wipe, sharpen and oil sufficed – their priority being the celebrating after party. But the Aiotia, like most groups; stayed together until they were all ready, and the ‘waiting for the girl’ eventuated into the whole group becoming thorough with their weapons and themselves, probably commencing as a means of occupation while awaiting on Hinewai, but which became habitual for them all.

For a moment Mitaroa would watch his daughter as if mesmerized. It was always difficult to believe that the tiny, gentle hands he saw as they tenderly cleaned her knives were capable of castration, one of her favorite techniques, where the little fingers of one hand slid through the delicate area behind the scrotum, and the hand enclosed the manhood and pulled as she used the weight of her falling body against his, giving her the false-like strength to perform such a hideous deed. That the soft eyes as she concentrated on cleaning her weapons could instantly turn into a spine-chilling fixation on any she considered to be her prey. That the long, spindly looking; still girl-child legs could break a nose and kick out teeth before her poor victim had the time to see her move at all. That the skinny arms could even hold a weapon, let alone use one.

And tonight, after this day’s battle; was no different. He was about to approach her when she started cleaning herself. As if her knives had become an extension of herself, the oil she’d been applying to her weapons she now applied to herself. So slowly, she started with her feet, with just the tiniest drop of the precious oil, resulting in her having a clean sheen rather than a greasy mess, taking care with every toe, and working upwards, not missing a crevice, until she reached her chest – that’s when Mitaroa noticed – the twelve full seasons year old had breasts – the firm and pointy, not yet softly rounded, beginnings of womanhood – but Hinewai continued with her routine as if she had not noticed – surely they weren’t there yesterday, Mitaroa thought, but perhaps they were – she certainly didn’t act as surprised as he felt – now even more mesmerized than ever by the woman/child before him, he hesitated a while longer and was further surprised to see her lift her hair, a signal for Nikau apparently, to approach and carefully massage her back with the lubricant. Afterwards, she turned and did the same to him. At first, Mitaroa thought he was witnessing the beginnings of adolescent love, but when done, Nikau stepped away from her and they both helped the other Aiotia boys with their grooming.

This behavior was not unusual where Mitaroa originally came from, warriors caring for each other in every way, unrushed, meditatively, sometimes even sexually – but the warriors here in the new land were not as sensual, some succumbing to the latest Pakeha newcomer’s preaching’s that sex was an evil sin, instead of nature’s way of making the next generation; so combined, the modern Makimoi were nowadays more inclined to rowdy drinking than leisurely, artful and skillful seduction. Most of his men were now fast to fight, fast to collect any spoils, fast to sort of clean up, and fast to party – often resulting in being too tired to really care, and too hardened to really love – so it was with some relief to find that because of a female’s need to care and feel fresh, that a small part of his army, the Aiotia group; for a moment, reminded him of how things used to be; and how they had changed, in the new land – and he hoped that the Aiotia may remind others, what now seemed already, long forgotten…

He cleared his throat. The boys nodded to their captain and leader; then went on to join the party, to give the father and daughter some time alone. Mitaroa never asked how she was, somehow with the lethal girl; that just didn’t seem appropriate.

“Good fight today,” she usually started their conversations.

Mitaroa could never understand how a war could be described as ‘good’, but he never disagreed with her. “Except, we don’t have any prisoners, for information, for hostages…”

“If you want prisoners, take some, before we Aiotia get to them…”

“Why don’t you take prisoners?” Mitaroa picked up her knives, pretending to inspect them. “For a change?”

“My job is to learn to be the best protector of ‘the one’ remember?” She took the knives from him and gently wrapped them up in soft cloth. “So, I must use every opportunity to get some ‘real-life’ experience…and war is the only way for that...”

“Speaking of which,” Mitaroa changed the subject, “a messenger came to me soon after today’s battle, to tell me that Riri has arrived…”

Hinewai hardly smiled, but a slight dimple appeared in her left cheek, the closest to a smile he would ever see on his daughter’s face. “Riri?” She’d only met her grandmother once before, Riri had never visited them again since, yet the girl still idolized his mother.

Mitaroa nodded. “She’s come for the…”

“Birth of ‘the one’…” Hinewai interrupted him while twirling, her now very long hair flowing about her, imitating the beautiful warrior woman that was her grandmother.

Mitaroa smiled and looked at the girl. They did not waste water out here in the desert, yet she looked so fresh and clean. There was not a trace of the desert dirt, sand and grime, or battle blood, on her, not even in her hair. He made a mental note to find out what she used and if the stuff was plentiful enough for the whole army. She smelled good too, and he knew she shared her potions with all the Aiotia. And their weapon oil, was not the normal lubricant that warriors used. “Yes. Your mother’s due, any time, now…”

“Then…” Hinewai placed her weapons in their position, with the rest of her group’s belongings. “It…must really be ‘the one’, this time…?!”

Mitaroa did not want to be reminded of Ingari’s last three miscarriages, so looked around, as if inspecting the Aiotia’s allotted camping area. He noticed how meticulous and neatly stacked their few belongings were, which made him remember how fastidious his mother’s army had always been. Strange, how when they had little, their few things were of such value to them; and now that they had many possessions, they were no longer important. He knew Nikau followed Hinewai’s example, and the rest did as Nikau, their leader, did – Mitaroa also knew that Nikau was not particularly ambitious, but the boy was confident, the sort where others seemed to diminish in his shadow – but because Nikau was also nice, and fun to be with; the others enjoyed rather than resented his popularity; and natural tendency to lead. Some were content to follow him, most actually preferred to be led, and were grateful that that sort of responsibility was not theirs; anyway.

Their very first battle was the very next one after Hinewai’s first unexpected kill when she’d believed that she was defending her father. After having killed a man, nothing was going to keep her off the battlefield now, and the Aiotia boys only followed her because after her first and now famous kill, they felt they could not be bested by the skinny little girl. So it was, Mitaroa ended up with ‘terrifying in battle yet tender afterwards’ children in his army. Expecting wrath from their parents, Mitaroa was further surprised to find how pleased and proud they were that the great leader believed their sons already to be skillful and brave enough to fight alongside the older warriors. Mitaroa wondered if they’d still think the same when their sons returned home hurt, or worse, dead – but so far, they were so small, swift and supple, and the child-like ‘sneak and surprise’ techniques they used were such that the Aiotia were like startling and scary pests to the enemy and Mitaroa had to admit, they were indeed, a hinder to the enemy, and help to his men. So, where Mitaroa had at first thought he now had the extra responsibility to watch over the young Aiotia in battle, he soon realized with some relief, that they could certainly look after themselves.

Their ‘on and off the battlefield’ teamwork was impeccable. Mitaroa had never known a group to work so perfectly in sync with each other, that their tactics were performed; as if thoroughly rehearsed routines. In their child-like way, warfare for them; was conducted like a game – whereby failing was not an option – they trusted each other and made sure they were there for each other – and they were both horrifying and entertaining to watch; in action.

At home in the barracks, Hinewai hardly joined in with the boy’s childish pranks, but she did help them all with their army duties. They admired her thoroughness and devotion – she loved her work so much that she took the extra time to care, and was almost always last with every daily army routine – and at first the boys felt obliged to stay behind also and help her, but they too, soon became just like her, and ended up enjoying their devotion to their duties, and every aspect of army life – the Aiotia were; and would prove to be; the most enthusiastic and fanatical of all Mitaroa’s warriors.

Mitaroa sighed as he thought how good it would be to have more females in all the groups, of his vast army. But unfortunately, most females were not interested in fighting. Their only goal in life was to be a wife and mother. Hinewai herself had also been opposed to the idea at first, but grew to love it, as her ever-enquiring mind, soon discovered it was yet, another form of education. Other males also, considered the thought of females fighting rather ludicrous, and they might be right; but – Mitaroa knew from his own experience with his mother, that if they did become involved, where they lacked in strength, they made up for with the use of their uncanny instincts.

Every warrior knew they should react without consideration, but often; the male, including himself, still thought too much; causing even a moment’s hesitation, and slowing his ability to make ‘split-second’ decisions. Females also seemed more ‘tuned-in’ to all situations, relying on their inner senses, so while ‘strength’ is ‘pondering’ the ‘next strike’, ‘instincts’ have already struck a variety of assaults, so light and lithely that their larger and heavier male victims, while still wondering what to do next, hardly even see the female’s strikes coming.

“There should be more females in the army…” Mitaroa was hardly aware he’d spoken his thoughts out loud.

“Reina joined a year after me, with the next group…”

“Yes…but as is normal tradition, she won’t be involved with battles until she’s fourteen, mother hasn’t yet suggested otherwise…there have been five new groups since you joined, but apart from Reina, no other girls…” although sad at the thought that his only two children, both daughters; were learning to be warriors; he was also proud of their attributes, and could not hide it in his voice. He had witnessed Reina’s training, and the girl was as tireless and attentive as her older sister. But Reina’s larger build also gave her the bodily strength that Hinewai lacked. It was obvious Reina was the more natural in body size and strength for fighting than Hinewai, lacking strength, Hinewai had to rely on her speed and suppleness. Both girls used their different inherited skills so well; that Reina did not need to be light on her feet, and Hinewai; more like Riri; did not need to be strong. Mitaroa sighed. “But I don’t think there’ll be any more females interested in army-life, in this land…”

“Except…” Hinewai bought Mitaroa out of his thoughts, “this baby, if she’s ‘the one’, then surely, she will need to know how to defend herself also, just in case…” Hinewai had been about to say, ‘in case she herself, and Reina, get killed’, as all warriors are aware of the likelihood, in this, their dangerous profession.

Mitaroa hadn’t thought of ‘the one’ joining the army, but Hinewai hadn’t contemplated otherwise. Did his first-born child presume all Riri’s descendants had no choice but to be warriors? He supposed so, since his mother’s first visit, with tales of their strong and brave ancestor Erena. But perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea, as Hinewai mentioned, ‘the one’ should have some knowledge of self-defense, in case – he swallowed as he realized where his daughter’s thoughts had been leading – “I suppose ‘the one’ should have some training, in case she finds herself in danger, as we; you, Reina and I, cannot be continually around her all day, every day, but we can’t subject her to actual danger…”

Hinewai smiled her little, half-smile again. “Yes, that’s what I meant…”

“Anyway, this baby might be a boy, and not, ‘the one’…”

“No, it’s a girl…”

“You seem quite certain about that…?!”

Hinewai lifted an eyebrow ever-so-slightly, an expression that Ingari used, and one which always made him feel like an inferior person. “Mother knows…”

“Because of her…priests?!” He knew that was the wrong thing to say, even as he said it.

The eyebrow went even higher. “Because she’s carrying low and wide. Boys are carried high and out front. Also, because of her…” she had been about to say ‘witch’, but stopped herself in time, “friend, Nahera!”

Mitaroa knew Ingari had re-kindled a friendship with a rather eccentric acquaintance of her mother’s, from the fragmented ruins of the original part of town. But he did not know the reason, which was, after having had three miscarriages; and finding herself pregnant again, Ingari sought out the help of her mother Akura’s friend, to fulfill Riri’s prediction, of her bearing another healthy daughter, since Hinewai was not, ‘the one’. But she did it for her husband and daughter, not for her mother-in-law. Or so she tried to convince herself. She suspected that Riri hypnotized everyone into doing what she wanted. Mitaroa tried reading his daughter’s mind. “What…else do you know?”

A Vision of a bloodied bed went through Hinewai’s mind. But she could not tell her father that. “Nothing…!”

But her answer was too quick and instinctive; to Mitaroa’s shrewd mind. “I don’t believe you…”

“What?!?”

“You’ve inherited my mother’s visionary ways, haven’t you?”

“Of course not!”

Another ‘too quick’ answer. Mitaroa searched her face.

She carefully leveled her eyes, and her face became unreadable, the ‘life-less mask’ that most would see for the rest of her life. “I thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing, father…”

He knew he’d lost the close companionship they’d just been sharing together. Those moments were becoming rarer as her ability to remove herself from others in front of their eyes was forever increasing. His eyes filled with tears. “You’re right, I don’t…”

“All I know is, this baby is ‘the one’…”

The father watched his daughter, the small woman-child, who looked like Ingari but acted like Riri, turn from him, and carefully replace the lids on her containers of oils and potions, and blinked back the tears that always seemed to threaten to flow too easily, since he had become the murderer of his wife’s father. “We go home tomorrow…”

She didn’t turn her gaze from her chores. “The Tane-Atua Te Arawa combined tribes from across the great lake have fled, father, but the Awhia are still making a nuisance of themselves at the border…?!”

Her expression had not changed, yet he knew she was disappointed. He cleared his throat. “The Awhia are never a real threat. But I will send a regiment there, to make sure. We return to Manaia in the morning!”

“Whose regiment?”

The father knew what his daughter was hoping. “Not Nikau’s…”

“But…we’re ready, father, and able…”

“You Aiotia, shouldn’t even be fighting, yet!”

“You know we can do it…”

His protest was lost as he thought they probably could. “You and I, have other duties to perform, as well as warring…I’m going to send our best warrior Hauku to check the borders...”

Only a slight shift of her eyes indicated her reluctance to return home without completing their job. His daughter was disturbing. He wished more warriors were as thorough, yet…she seemed to love fighting, more than her own family. At least, he thought as he turned to leave, she still knew who the boss was, for now… “Now let’s go join the others…”

Tonight, Hauku was the first to dance. Mitaroa had just told him that his group were to continue to Aotuhia, the Awhian Kiwa trading post to quell any further possible skirmishes, that Mitaroa had just received news from home, and had to return. Hauku could choose two or three other groups to accompany him, except for the Aiotia, all under his control, for that mission. Hauku was only eighteen, yet their leader believed he was already good enough. Mitaroa had confided in Hauku, that he had also only been eighteen, when he had been sent on his first mission without his superiors, in command of a few groups. When Hauku informed his men, they cheered, and were so excited at the opportunity to prove themselves on their own; they all joined their leader and following him, danced around the main campfire.

Everyone watched the happy young man and wondered which other groups Hauku would choose. Some of the older groups looked forward to returning home, being with their families for a while, and enjoying a much-needed break. Most of the younger groups; however, were eager for the chance to test their training, to find out and/or prove how good they really were, without the protective back-up of the more experienced older men, of such a large army.

Hinewai watched Hauku also. But unlike the females of the ‘non-fighting’ army people, who were allowed to be weapons bearers, assistants to the healers and cooks, and others who followed just for possible pleasuring at the after-battle celebrations, she did not notice the handsome face, the muscular body – she ignored the nearby girly ‘ooohs and aaahs’ and lewd inviting calls from the Kairau women offering sexual pleasures – she saw only opportunity. Grabbing Nikau’s hand, they slipped away from the party.

Hauku had been only fourteen when Hinewai joined the army and was her first and still now, main trainer. At fourteen, when one participated in actual fighting, one was considered qualified enough to teach basics to a beginner. He had been especially cruel with his female student at first; there were times when she had also sought out her mother’s witch, to have a dislocated finger put back, also a shoulder, and other muscle and torn ligament injuries seen to. To this day, as far as Hinewai knew, both parents did not know about this, and the old woman promised not to tell; and she must have kept her word, for neither Mitaroa; nor Ingari; ever bought the subject up with their child. Or if they did know, and there wasn’t much that happened that Mitaroa did not know about, they must have presumed her injuries were the usual result of training, that a delicate girl would be more easily hurt than the normal, stronger male. But Hauku’s attempts at frightening a female away from the barracks only seemed to make Hinewai more determined to stay, she kept coming back for training when others would take time off to heal, and his reluctance to train a little girl soon turned to admiration when she killed her first man at just the age of ten; and earned the right for her and her group to go to war earlier; than the usual age of fourteen.

Then, a hush fell upon the cheering on-lookers, as Hinewai had quietly returned to the party, and started dancing – slowly, moving to the double beats of the drums rather than the fast pace that Hauku and a few of his friends were doing – she would turn and look over a shoulder at him flirtatiously – then turn and look over the other, while slowly approaching him step, by seductive step…

Hauku’s friends stopped shimmying, a favorite of the dances of Tipu-Aki, so enthralled were they, of the smooth and lithe, girl’s advance. She had so softly and gently proceeded, that it took a few moments for anyone to notice her straight away – and it wasn’t until some made way for her, that all the others were taken by surprise, for she had never joined in with the dancing before. She had always watched a little while, never had more than one drink, (if one was old enough to fight, one was old enough to drink) and was usually one of the first to retire to bed.

The drummers slowed down to match her movements, and it wasn’t until the obvious change in tempo that Mitaroa looked up to see what was happening, and he could not hide the shock on his face. He knew that his daughters had also commenced their Tapu-namu priestess dancing lessons, also at his mother’s insistence, albeit through messengers, to create a balanced lifestyle; but he hadn’t expected Hinewai to be as graceful and lovely a dancer as this beguiling creature before them all – especially at the tender age of twelve. He swallowed, blinked uncertainly, and cleared his throat, not sure if he was feeling embarrassed by the spectacle, or proud.

But the crowd had never been so silent at a party, the otherwise unclothed girl, who hardly ever even bothered with a loin cloth, had had her platted back sheath strapped on, containing her two whalebone knives, the handles of which rose above her shoulders, and the front ties of which crossed between her breasts and flowed down in-between her legs, which – looked more enticing than if she was completely naked, and she also wore her hip sheath, empty now, for she held her throwing poi poi weapons in both hands, twirling them in time with her movements. Feathers held her hair behind her ears, and matching feather wrist and ankle bands completed her outfit - her skin glowing from her special ointment, Hinewai had become the epitome; of what her warrior grandmother had expected her to be…

Hauku too, stopped dancing for a moment in astonishment, then; smiling at the girl encouragingly, continued at a slower rate also - intuitively he knew from her actions, that out of all her father’s men, Hinewai had selected him, to dance with. And at parties like this, dancing was not just a form of a thanking the Gods ritual, it was also relief, celebration, and relaxation, but sometimes also, fore-play. At first, although he did not stop moving completely, he let her dominate the dance, so astounded was he by the girl’s unexpected approach – she had never danced at the after parties before – he knew she army trained during most days and studied in the Whare Tapu temple some nights, but he was as amazed as everyone else that evening, at her adept combining of the two vastly diverse lessons – her dancing steps included her defense and counter-attack routines – which she deftly weaved all around him, sometimes so dangerously close that he wondered if she intended to actually injure him, that this ‘dance’ was a beguiling form of punishment, or worse, an attempt at revenge, for his initial; cruel treatment of her…

So Hauku found himself in an awkward position. He could not defend himself from the daughter of their leader, especially in front of Mitaroa, but nor would he anyway, for any bitterness the girl may have for him, he knew he deserved. Although unarmed, he also knew he could easily disarm her at any time, but while she circled him, the pois were kept just inches from hitting him, yet simultaneously prepared to strike, but there was something ‘teasing’ about the girl’s eyes, and slight half-smile, which re-assured him, that this little act of hers was just a display, one whereby she chose to include him, perhaps humiliate him; and one she was enjoying immensely. She, had inherited her father’s love of theatrics.

Then, she quickly looped one of her pois around his neck, and grabbing it with her other hand, held him in place, as she moved one hip closer to his, and imitated his now subtle shimmy. Although only twelve, and small, whose height hardly came up to his chest, for a while, they shimmied slowly around each other, without breaking eye contact, as warriors do, while anticipating each other’s next move when fighting. Which came from her. All she did was change hips. He did likewise, and the movement brought them closer. She marveled at his sense of timing. He wondered at her boldness. Females often flirted with him, but they always relied on him to instigate action of any kind. He was not used to being seduced, and he was enjoying her attention. And for the first time since he’d known her, he realized how pretty she was. How petite the oval face, so close – how swollen the bottom lip, very close – how spell-binding her perfume, overpowering his senses – so much so his movements slowed – so did hers – he felt as if they were moving in ‘slow motion’ – he felt as though he was floating on fumes - too late, he remembered the rumors – she was a witch, she used toxic potions – but if being under her spell, was feeling as wonderful as he did right now, he was glad she did –

“Do you surrender?” She hissed in his ear.

He could not take his eyes off hers. “I…surrender…”

The men cheered, clapped, and resumed their drinking and inspired by what they had just witnessed, most, decided it was time to dance. The drummers, presuming the sensual ‘floorshow’ was over, sped up the tempo. Everyone thought the student was showing her teacher she was now his equal, in a flamboyant way. Except for Mitaroa. He knew his daughter was trying to prove to her father, that she was as good as her trainer, and should be allowed to accompany Hauku to Aotuhia, where messengers have informed him of possible Awhian desert people spying on them for those on the other side of the land. He started to approach her, when some of the closest of his comrades good-naturedly coaxed him into joining the dancing. He would have to seek his sassy daughter out later.

All concentrating on partying now; no-one noticed Hinewai and the ever-loyal Nikau help lead a drugged Hauku to sit nearby, as if resting after his performance; and watching the others enjoying themselves. The poi that she had entwined around his neck had been soaked in Teteaweka scent. It was not a life-threatening concoction, nor would it last long, or have any ill effects. Hauku was still conscious, but in a state of euphoria, which meant he would not care for anything in the world for a little while. He was experiencing the height of contentment. He would probably re-join the party again shortly, imagine his participation in Hinewai’s little show, a highlight of tonight’s fun, and forget all about the silly little girl. Hinewai hoped. For now.

Nikau took her hand, and they ran to their own camping area.

But the strong warrior was not as susceptible to drugs as the average human and had allowed the youngsters take him from curious eyes and possible curious questions. The cold night air had cleared his mind before they had even sat him down. He went along with their devious undertaking, in an effort to find out what they were up to. He knew he could overtake them both at any time. He watched them run towards their camping area, then he followed the devious children.

Hauku arrived in time to see, by the light of their little campfire, the girl standing with arms outstretched, the boy untying her weapons. Afterwards, Nikau wrapped her swords, and Hinewai hung her poi poi on a nearby tree branch. She did so in such a slow caressing way; that momentarily, both males seemed mesmerized by her careful handling of her pois, that only moments earlier she had deftly held around Hauku’s throat.

Hauku was impressed at how clean and fragrant the Aiotia’s camp was. He was used to the normal army-camp stenches of too many unwashed males in too small a space, smokey campfires and piles of dead, bloating corpses awaiting burial, embalming, or burning. Only their own dead warriors had their insides drained and contained, their bodies partly embalmed to be returned to their families for more formal funeral rituals. Bodies of the enemy were usually buried altogether or burned. Most were buried altogether in a large hole, or if there were too many weapon mutilations, covered with blood, they were burned together on a pier. Thankfully this was rare, and through experience, done as far away from the campsite as possible, for burning large quantities of bodies was an almost impossible task, and produced an arid smoke that coated everything nearby.

Hauku was also amazed at the silent teamwork of the pair. He had heard the Aiotia used telepathic communication, one of the many exaggerated rumors going around about the ‘youngest ever’ regiment - but by observing two of them, he witnessed how so closely in-tune they were, that conversation seemed deemed unnecessary.

But before Hauku had a chance to interrupt them, Mitaroa arrived at the children’s camp for the second time that evening. seemingly without noticing Hauku watching nearby. And again, Nikau made himself scarce, while Hauku waited, and watched.

This time, Mitaroa started the conversation, imitating her earlier statement of ‘good fight today’ with, “Good show tonight…”

“Well, you wouldn’t listen to me, so I had to show you in the only way an entertainer like you, would understand…”

Intrigued, Hauku sneaked closer.

“I think it more important that our family be together, right now…” Mitaroa hoped to avoid an argument about Hauku surrendering to Hinewai in a mock theatrical exercise.

“And I think,” Hinewai replied, “it important that no potential enemies are left to take back any information about us to our worst threat; the Te Arawa, and their allied Tane-Atua. Only one family member will be delayed, and not for long…”

Mitaroa knew she was right. He doubted their greater foes were aware of the scary, pesky ferocious and merciless children in his army. But if he had no choice, she and her group fought with him, he was not ready for them to go to war without him, where he cannot personally keep an eye on them. Tradition affirms trained males can go to war at puberty when they became men. And although so far, the children seemed invincible, he still believed that they had started fighting prematurely, and felt responsible for them. “Sorry daughter, I know I have given into you too often, but this time, I am not going home without you... “

“Hauku will look after me…us Aiotia!”

“Hauku couldn’t even avoid your nasty little trick…”

For a moment, Hinewai wondered how her father always seemed to know everything. She was sure no-one else except she and Nikau, knew what was on her pois tonight. “Then…why don’t we all go on to Aotuhia, and finish the job, together. What possible difference will another week or so make? If they’re not a real threat, as you seem to think, it may not even need a day or two of our time…”

“I agree, I don’t believe the Awhia a real threat, and what’s left of the few remaining enemy in the area; will not need a large army, to finish the job!” Mitaroa reached for her hand, but she stepped back, out of his reach. He scrutinized the daughter that kept her distance. It was difficult knowing her inner thoughts and feelings, but since her first kill, he had the feeling that she was protecting him, in more ways than one. “Unless there’s a reason you’re so reluctant to return home?”

Again, a vision of her mother, exhausted and drenched in her own blood, flashed through the girl’s mind. She shook her head. She had underestimated her father. That was the one subject she’d deftly avoid, even it if meant she had to give in to him. She sighed. “We Aiotia; will be ready to leave with you; and return home, first thing in the morning…”

Mitaroa looked around at the neatly packed and stacked bundles of belongings, and tidy beddings, and grinned. “Of course, you will…” he’ll have to remind his Maki, his fellow warriors from the sea, how efficient and orderly they used to be, and get them to encourage the Moi, his newer Manaian warriors, to do likewise. “Your grandmother will be so proud of you, Hinewai…”

That one dimple appeared. “It will be good to see her again…”

Mitaroa turned to leave. As he passed the little campfire he stopped and was about to ask why hers was so aromatic, but changed his mind. He didn’t want to hear about his wife’s witch, and the various potions the women in his life used. “Goodnight, daughter…”

“Goodnight, father…”

Then Mitaroa surprised Hauku with, “goodnight, Hauku…”

Hauku gulped. “Goodnight…” he hadn’t realized his presence had been noticed.

Mitaroa was about to continue, but paused and added to the younger man, “no matter what my daughter says or does, the Aiotia are not accompanying you to Aotuhia. Is that understood?”

“I never intended taking them, commander…”

Then a sweet sigh came from Hinewai’s camp. “Sweet dreams, Hauku…”

Hauku felt obliged to leave also. “Girls…!?!” He cursed.

Mitaroa heard Hauku, and grinned. “Daughters…!?!”

They both laughed as they made their way back to the party…

But later in his own camp area, Hauku could not get the girl out of his mind and could hardly concentrate on his regular female bed companion, until he finally ordered her to leave. She usually stayed all night and hesitated, perplexed. But when he yelled at her to get out of his bed, she grabbed her clothes and left, without even pausing to dress herself properly.

He was bewildered at his own mixed feelings. For a beguiling little girl’s earlier war-dance performance with him, was the most exciting thing he had ever experienced in his life; and he did not know whether to feel disturbed about it or elated. But he did know she was still too young, and the boss’s daughter, and tried to push her from his thoughts.

He didn’t even like her, being a female in an otherwise male domain, was reason enough. From the moment the skinny little thing was put in his charge, along with the seven-year-old boys at the time, he detested the dainty, gentle creature he was supposed to make a fighter out of. He had even questioned Mitaroa’s decision, but the father was adamant, and at first, Hauku was just as adamant; that the spoiled princess was not going to get her way, this time. He had no way of knowing of Mitaroa’s and Riri’s plans. He’d presumed the girl had asked on a whim, and the father was simply humoring her, until she lost interest in the spoiled brat’s latest pursuit. And he, had planned to help her lose interest.

Just the way she walked, with head high, and shoulders back, eager to learn and to do well, irked him, more so when all the boys of her group had at first lacked confidence and moved uncertainly. That out of all of them, it was the small girl that had the right attitude and aptitude required for a good warrior to succeed. But instead of nurturing her enthusiasm and devotion, out of resentment; because it was the males with her that cried and would have left if allowed, he had worked her extra hard and quite brutally, in an attempt to put her off army life forever.

But she kept coming back – he didn’t know how she managed to sometimes, knowing how much pain he’d inflicted on her - she silently suffered and endured – he didn’t know that she had a skillful healer, her mother’s healer, to help her. He remembered a time when she had pulled a calf muscle, thought she’d need a few days off to heal, and probably never return – how surprised he was to see her the very next day - how he had made her race against the fastest boy as a part of warming up before getting into techniques - over and over, all day, she never said she hurt, although it showed in her face, and she always won every race regardless and in fact it was the boy, who pleaded for the racing to stop – he remembered another time when he’d dislocated her shoulder – this time, he was certain she’d never return, but she did, and as before, the very next day – after the usual exercises and training, he’d have his students pair up for sparring sessions – he assigned himself to fight with her that day, and beat her mercilessly, aiming at yesterday’s yet unhealed, shoulder injury – her determination not to make a sound, or cry, only seemed to infuriate him more – even the boys in her group yelled at him to stop, and Nikau actually attacked him, tried to defend her – but to the surprise of them both, she got mad at Nikau, for interfering – that’s when he’d finally accepted she’d earned the right to be a warrior, and from that day on also, the boys in her group, after yelling at their teacher, were no longer scared, yelping boys.

Hauku rubbed the tingling sensation he still felt on his neck from her poi, and smiled, as he thought of those first memories he had of her. “Sweet dreams, little girl…” he answered her at last, although she could not hear him from the other side of the camp, “sweet dreams…” and he drifted off to sleep, thinking of the girl that fought like a young boy, yet danced like a grown woman…

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

Unlike the first time I entered these gates as an eager young man embracing a new and exciting adventure in a great new land of hope and promise, as I pass into the city this time, and although I’m not even quite middle aged yet let alone old, I feel a weight upon my soul - an uneasy foreboding is suffocating me, and has been since we left the war to return home. I was told as a child that a warrior can smell death in the air, but this was the first time I have ever experienced it – ironically, on the return home, and not, on the way to war………………..thought Mitaroa…

The usually brilliant city buildings and walls even seem shadowed as we approached, and I don’t remember ever seeing so many rolling, rumbling dark clouds in the sky since I’ve lived here – so many and thick that they hid the brilliant snow topped mountain - and as we approach the gravelly descent to the gates, the sky seems to be closing in on us - close, too close – as if the muggy atmosphere were intent on smothering us – at first I thought it was my imagination, as I struggled to breathe, but I hear my men behind me also panting, and trying to clear their lungs – I sneak a look at my daughter riding beside me - there are only a few of us who have horses, I was the only one for a while, we’ve been acquiring them from the dead enemy, bounty, or the Awhian trading post in the desert, the tribes from the north east have more dealings with the Pakehu palefaces, we’ve never even seen any yet, but we know that they bought the horses to our land - but her face is as always, held high and serene, without expression – I could never know how she felt, or what she thought – a good way for a young warrior in the making, but a little depressing for a father to witness – she should be near the back of the troupe, with her Aiotia comrades; warriors move up the ranks in turn, but I’d heard she’d won the horse in some kind of fighting bet – so one of my horsemen, has either ‘given-in’ to the boss’s daughter, or underestimated the girl’s prowess (she actually even amazes me, her own father) and the poor sod is obviously now walking – I made a mental note to find out who and replace the unfortunate man’s mount for him – I make another mental note to see Hauku about it when he returns home, for I know he’s into gambling and the Aiotia, along with all the younger groups, are under his command - Hinewai’s obviously decided she should be by my side on this journey, probably because I insisted she return home with me, that the family should be together at this time – and in my current state of mind, although she’s quiet, I’m glad to have her company – if the men object, I don’t really care right now – I should not be letting her get her own way too much – yet at the same time, I’m pleased she’s capable of making her own decisions – she’s a natural leader, like my mother – and isn’t that what we both want of the girl? I breathe deeply to clear my lungs, but that bought on a bout of wheezing, so I try to relax, like her - however my attempts at ignoring the steamy atmosphere fail, and I curse at the gloomy sky – the clouds seem momentarily suspended, unmoving – yet I fear they’re slowly and silently gathering, like an army bringing its troops together for a torrid battle…

The townspeople too, seemed a little subdued in their usual cheering welcome; as if they also, feel some kind of storm brewing, enveloping us all. A few make some feeble attempts at the traditional flower throwing in our path to sweeten the arrival of smelly men and horses but give up at the sight of our own forlorn faces. Mine, as I don’t seem to have ‘the gift’ that my mother has and I suspect my daughter has also inherited, to sense that once again, I am on the brink of yet another dramatic change to my life. My men’s, as they are tired, for I was in a hurry to get back to face the demons of my destiny and spend some precious time with the innocent victim of all this, my beloved wife, and a main player, of our cruel fate. Most, like my daughter, would have preferred to stay at war with Hauku and a couple of other groups I let him choose; excluding the Aiotia, to make sure there were no angry enemy on their way to report to the everlasting greater foe, the Te Arawa, Tane-Atua, before returning home. Most of the desert Awhia are peaceful, and left the Manaian to hide in the desert rather than be a part of the wars; however, some have been paid by the Tane-Atua to be their spies – and although I don’t see the value in the paleface’s money as I do their horses, others though, including a few Awhia who opened the trading post, seem to like the little shiny coins that I had only recently heard about, and not yet seen…

With a twinge, I realize yet again that Riri was right, in taking Hinewai to war early, for I am already grieving my loss – and the people may have to rely on her; a child still, but already one of the most fearless of all our warriors, to protect them now.

As we make our way up the main street towards the main square, Hinewai turns her horse towards the army barracks. The men will follow her. I usually ride on to the main whare building opposite, where Ingari has a room there, and Tohu takes my horse to tend to it – I usually keep my weapons handy - but halfway there, I see Riri on the porch steps – she’s holding what I would find out later to be a puppy in her arms, and seems to be forcing an old beggar woman from the place – I should be pleased to see my mother, it’s been years since her last visit; but a part of me blames her for the dilemma I find myself in and so I also, turn my horse around and follow my daughter and men instead.

Reina’s at the barracks entrance, she’s always the first to welcome her sister home. When my men have taken my horse, I decide to leave my weapons in their care for a change also; except my Greenstone Mere club, which I had had made specially for me, by the person who had made Hinewai’s favorite weapons, so I always keep it at my side; then I manage a smile and hug my younger daughter - I know Hinewai will take her time at her routine, and will probably soak in a long bath afterwards; so I head for home alone, but I make for a back entrance to the main building – I don’t feel like facing my mother, right now.

Once out of sight of everyone, I lean against a wall and peer up at the darkening sky, which is still hovering and immobile, except for the increasing change in color. I remember a sky like this once before, when still a small lad, back in the old land. It was a prelude to a torrential storm. “But of course,” I mutter to myself, as I remembered how brilliant the blue sky, how beautiful the day and how thrilled I was when I first arrived at this city and new life – filled with finding love and winning wars and I laugh hysterically and shrug at the absurdity of it all. “Of course…” and I lift my arms hopelessly as if - now, the time has come to…pay the price for it all……….Mitaroa sighs hopelessly….

I’m watching my sister. She knows I’m here, waiting, but she won’t acknowledge my presence until she’s ready. I’ve learned that from experience, upon her returning from war. I’ve been in the army for four full seasons now, and she’s been in for five; but already, she and her group the Aiotia, have proven themselves ready for battle. I and my group - the Tiaki, meaning ‘defenders’, not a very imaginative name I know, but the boys in my group out-voted me for it; I would have liked our name to be Erena after the famous warrior woman – but I can’t blame them for not agreeing, they know nothing of her - neither do I, except that she was a fearful female fighter – we will have to wait until the usual age of fourteen, to join in actual battles, no matter how good we are…

Her weapons haven’t been used since her departure for home, but she inspects them anyway. She has a foot up on a stool, and she’s polishing one of her knives on her bare thigh. She has never known the meaning of modesty, and although surrounded by warriors, she still feels no embarrassment – none at all - it’s as if she’s unaware she’s developing into a lovely young lady – but then our grandmother, also felt no need to clothe herself; unless she was attending a fashionable affair, or important meeting – I suppose it’s easier to move and fight without being hindered by clothing, but I would at least wear a loin-cloth, especially if shining my weapons across a raised leg in front of young males…

Dad’s already left for the palace, and most of the warriors who have families have dispersed to their loved ones. The others who lived at the barracks had either retired to their quarters, or were already out ‘on the town’, catching up with friends and family. There have been no official arrangements made for the usual festivities when the main army returns, in respect for Ingari’s bad health, but the aromas of a variety of Hangi roasted meals throughout the streets and squares proved the people were celebrating anyway albeit, in a quieter, more discreet manner…

I fidget as I wait impatiently. I do not understand her. If it was my mother ailing, I would be by her bedside as soon as possible. And, I would have run to see Riri our grandmother, as soon as I’d stepped foot in Manaia. Actually, I would probably have started running at the first glimpse of the beautiful rooftops of our lovely town.

People think she’s been mentally affected by her first infamous kill. That that experience at such a young age has made her aloof and sullen. But I know her better than anyone, better even than our father, and her own mother. She has always been independent and unemotional. She hardly ever laughed or played happily as children are supposed to. Occasionally she will smile – well, a little half-smile – mostly for me, or our father.

The little smile that is reserved for so few, makes me feel important. Because although I live in the main whare buildings, I know I’ll never really be a part of the ‘ruling’ family. Sometimes I feel our family is all wrong. Sometimes I feel as though life is ironically unfair. I am the one that loves our father more than anything or anyone. I am the one who really loves my mother, even though we hardly see each other. I am the one who has spent a lot of time with Hinewai’s mother. I adore our grandmother. I am the one who was born strong, for army life. I am the one who loves the outdoors life. She has never been interested in her mother. I had to practically drag her to meet our grandmother that first time, and it looks as though I’m going to have to do so again. She has never spent as much time with our father as I have, also. She was originally appalled at the thought of joining the army. She preferred to be with teachers, writing and drawing. She is so small and delicate, that she has suffered dreadful injuries, just from training exercises. Do I sound a little jealous? A little resentful? I suppose I am, a little – yet I feel so glad to be her sister, and so fortunate to be a part of this detached yet rather remarkable family.

As I wait, I notice the Aiotia boys also taking their time with their belongings. I grin and want to tease them, but I don’t – for it is obvious they are such a successful group because they are a close team both on and off the battlefield, and with some envy, I can’t help wishing mine was the same. We Tiaki are rather untidy and disorganized, but we’ve only been training together for four years so there’s still time to develop into an equally enviable group; yet somehow, I don’t think any before them, or after, will be as tuned-in to each other as the Aiotia.

Then without a spoken word, the Aiotia in unison, stop cleaning and start packing their things and tying up their bundles and stacking them in the corner of their area here in the barracks. They move as one and I cannot help but stare at them in wonder. As though I do not believe my own eyes. But what happened next, was even more amazing. There are twelve of them, but they all manage to huddle together in a group hug. And just as silently, they disperse and are ready at last, to go to their waiting families. Finally, she turns to me, and smiles her little yet brilliant, half smile……….Reina sighs, and smiles back…

“Our grandmother’s arrived, and she’s asking to see you…” Reina told Hinewai, mimicking the same statement she had used a few years earlier.

Hinewai ignored her sister’s enthusiasm for the famous Riri from across the ocean, visiting them for only the second time in their lives. “I will bathe, first…”

“You’re not dirty, you don’t stink…in fact; you smell nice, too nice; for someone who’s just come back from so long fighting in the dirty desert…?!?”

“I won’t see anyone, until I’ve soaked in a warm, perfumed bath…”

“You can’t keep her waiting, Hinewai…”

“She’s kept us waiting, for years, twice…!?!”

“Only because she lives so far away, across the sea…!?!”

Hinewai took her sister’s hand and started for the palace.

“She doesn’t have to. Father’s asked her to move here, in the land that she wanted so badly for us…but she won’t give up her home, not even for us, and her ambitions…”

“You mean Visions…?!?”

“That’s just a more fanciful word for ambitions…!?!”

“It’s not?!?”

“Yes, it is…no-one in our modern society of soothsayers and priests will do nothing just for some-one’s greed, but everyone will do everything for…predictions or prophecies…!?!”

“Not our dad…”

“Especially our dad…!?!”

“He’s not a believer…”

“But he’s a believer’s son…”

“Now you Hinewai, sound like an unbeliever…?!?”

“I’m practical, like our father…we’re all living our destinies as planned by a very clever woman, that’s all…”

“I don’t believe you. There’s talk that you’ve also, inherited…the sight…?!?”

“Me? Absolutely not!”

They’d reached the porch, thankfully Riri was no longer waiting there, and made for Hinewai’s room, where the servants had learned to have a nice bath waiting or face the girl’s wrath.

Reina would not let the subject drop. “But…Riri said that you; are just like her…?!?”

Hinewai ignored the envy in her sister’s voice. “Riri’s radiant, flirtatious, and vivacious…does that describe me?”

Reina looked at the serious and rather stern expression on her sister’s face. “No…but I don’t even know what viva…vivashush means…I do wish you’d use simpler words, Hinewai…”

“Simpler, like vibrant, effervescent; Riri’s dazzling, sparkling…”

Reina laughed. “Stop it! But I always thought you wanted to be just like her…?!?”

“I do, but…” Hinewai sighed, “I’m not; am I?”

“You can try to be a little happier, than you are…!?!”

“Oh, I’m content enough; I’m just not in a constant state of ecstasy, like she is…”

Reina pretended to understand all the descriptive words Hinewai used. Sometimes she thought her older sister liked to make up her own words. “But you two have other things in common…”

“Like what?”

“You’re both famous warriors…”

Hinewai blinked at her sister. “I’m hardly famous, I’m still a child…”

“People talk…they say you’re known from Tongariro to Whanganui…”

“That’s not that far…” still, Hinewai could not help but feel pleased.

“You’re both female warriors…”

Hinewai shrugged. “I’ve a lot to learn yet, before I can be described as a warrior…”

They entered Hinewai’s room.

“Do you think I’ll be famous too one day?” Reina asked.

“Probably; do you?”

“Probably; yes…”

“Then you have inherited our grandmother’s ability to predict the future, not me...”

“But I don’t know for sure…sometimes I think of someone, then I see him or her; but that could be just coincidence…”

“Coincidence? And you say I use large words?” Hinewai stopped as an image of an older Reina, desperately running in some snow with a toddler, crossed her mind. She gulped. “You will be known for something, Reina…”

“You just saw something, didn’t you?”

Hinewai shook her head. “No. We’re the notorious Riri’s granddaughters, so of course we’re going to be well-known...”

Hinewai saw that her bath was filled with warm water. “Hmmm…” Hinewai let Reina’s hand go and moved towards it.

Rona had been dozing on a lounge on the balcony and jumped up and stepped in the room; head bent, awaiting any instructions. Reina put her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from laughing out loud. Since her sister’s famous first kill, the servant had stopped taunting her young mistress. Rona had some soft Mo’o gowns neatly folded beside the warm bath, although Hinewai would probably ignore them, along with a variety of beautifully decorated combs, and some containers of different shapes and sizes of Hinewai’s favorite aromatic balms and creams, all placed where the girl could easily reach them.

For a moment, Reina fought back a little pang of jealousy. Hinewai’s room had been ‘added-to’ and was now a large ‘open-planned’ apartment, divided by soft green Kakaho curtains, and folding Kakaho dividers. She even had a soft blue Takahe feather-down soft bed, the color derived from boiling murex shells; and a shredded edged hand-spun un-dyed creamy Tapa rug took up most of the floor area; there were matching wall-hangings, these though had the usual added dark dyed thread patterns in them, along with long fringing hanging at the bottom. And of course, there were the two lovely dolls Riri had sent for Hinewai when she was only a small child, proudly on display because they were gifts from their grandmother. They both almost reached Reina’s hips in height, they must have been about the same size as Hinewai when she first received them and were dressed in the traditional ‘Pa’u, the ritualistic dancing clothing of Riri’s homeland, but they still looked brand new; it was obvious, Hinewai had never played with them. How ironic, Reina thought, for she would have loved to own such beautiful toys; yet the grandmother she loved and admired more than anyone, had never given her anything. And of course, there was the bath – Hinewai’s ‘pride and joy’, a small dugout canoe, near the opening to her balcony, so she could look outside while relaxing in the water. Being an upstairs room, she had her privacy, yet could gaze at the ever-changing sky, treetops, and the Whare Tapu temple on the nearby hilltop cliffs.

“You could have nice things too,” Hinewai said as if having just read her sister’s mind.

“Huh?”

Hinewai sat in the water, “all you have to do; is ask for them…”

“You; didn’t ask for your dolls…” Reina was right.

Hinewai knew her sister’s room was small, plain, and only contained a bed mat and Katua trunk. “I thought you weren’t interested in having nice possessions…”

“I thought so too, but…” she looked at the dolls, “it would be nice to have at least one little thing of my own…”

“You could have the dolls, Reina…”

“Could I?”

“I said so didn’t I?”

“Thanks, but…that wouldn’t be right. You can’t give gifts away, especially precious presents from Riri…”

Hinewai just shrugged in answer, then let herself slide completely underwater, resurfaced and lifting her hair, laid it out over the side of the bath. “Ahhh…” then as if she’d just noticed the servant standing nearby, Hinewai indicated with a hand, for Rona to leave.

Reina sat next to the bath. “She’s changed…” she remarked, using her head to indicate the leaving servant, “she used to be awful to you…!?”

“Really?”

Reina flicked some water over Hinewai. “You know she was…!?!”

Hinewai flicked some water over her sister. Unlike Hinewai who preferred to be naked, Reina was quite modest and now her Pareu gown was soaked. Hinewai almost smiled. “You may as well get in too, now…”

Reina did not have to be asked twice, she threw her dress off, and jumped in. This caused more water to be splashed over Hinewai and for a while, the sisters splashed each other playfully…

Without knocking, Riri opened and entered through Hinewai’s door, holding a ginger and cream-colored fluffy puppy in her arms.

“Oh, how cute…” was Reina’s reaction.

Riri kissed the puppy’s soft ears. “A present, for Hinewai…”

A hazy vision of the present in her grandmother’s arms trying to defend her flashed through Hinewai’s mind, and she shivered at a strange feeling she could not fathom. “For me…?!?”

Reina pretended to wash her face to hide the tears. Life was so unfair. How she would have loved the little puppy. Hinewai showed no appreciation for any of Riri’s gifts, and Riri didn’t even realize she had never given anything to her second granddaughter.

Riri raised an eyebrow at the mess; pools of water on the floor, containers knocked over, spilling their contents. ”Enjoying yourselves?”

Reina immediately climbed from the tub and grabbed her gown. “We thought it best we bathe before coming to see you…”

“I’m not angry, Reina…” the older woman moved closer to the bath. “How are you Hinewai?”

Hinewai noticed a softness in the eyes of the older woman that she had believed had been dark and hard. Her hair was just as long and as lustrous as the girl remembered, and instead of the change ageing the woman’s appearance, the softened eyes seemed to soften the rest of her features, and she looked even prettier than before. “I’m fine thank-you Riri, and thanks for the… what is it?”

“A dog. A Beagle, to be precise…one of the many strange creatures the Pakeha bought with them to Tipu-Aki…”

“We haven’t even seen any yet, there are some Pakeha living with our enemy, way up north…are they friendly, peaceful people?”

“Seemingly friendly, at first, but… ‘

“But?”

“Well, reports of uneasiness are starting…they’re trying to change us into them. And their weapons are superior to ours, if war breaks out, well,” Riri shuddered, “I hate to think what will happen…”

Hinewai had never believed that her grandmother could ever be afraid of anything. “Superior weapons?”

“Yes, canons fire exploding large balls and rifles fire bullets…small balls, so fast, you can’t even see them move…”

“You’ve actually seen those?”

“Only at exhibitions, ‘fairs’, competitions, they call them, but we’ve heard of them being used in wars on other islands…it’s only a matter of time, for a small dispute to “ she paused, “turn into a war…”

“Grandmother,” Hinewai looked concerned, “I think it time that you stayed here with us, and don’t return to Takitumu, Tipu-Aki!”

“But I must, they need me there…”

Hinewai fleetingly wondered why the woman didn’t think that they needed her, but shook the thought from her mind. She knew her grandmother had family there also, and tried to hide a feeling of foreboding on her face. She decided to change the subject, looked around, then pointed to the lounge area. ”Put the Beagle over there. It won’t mess my room, will it?”

Riri gently placed the puppy on the floor rug and looked around at all the girl’s lovely belongings. “I…hope not…”

“I hope not too,” Hinewai studied the woman who apart from the softness in her eyes, and a fear of the uncertain future before them, looked well. “Well, you look good, Riri…”

“As well as can be expected, at this…apprehensive time…”

Hinewai knew what Riri meant, and nodded.

Reina did not. “What do you mean?”

Riri stepped carefully around the splattered pools on the floor so as not to slip in the wet, handed Hinewai a gown, but answered Reina, “Ingari’s in labor; and not doing very well…”

“Oh, no…” Reina was genuinely concerned for a woman who had hardly ever acknowledged her existence. “I hope this is not going to be another miscarriage…?”

“We,” gulped Riri, “must all hope and pray that they; both mother and baby, survive…”

Hinewai looked at the older woman as she stepped out of the bath and wrapped the gown around herself. A part of her thought this was all Riri’s fault, but another part knew that her parents were not really forced to have another child. Sometimes she wondered if Riri did visualize the future, or if she was purposefully manipulating all their lives. Whatever the answer, it was too late now; she herself was developing into a competent protector, and ‘the one’ was about to be born. “How long?”

“According to the Tapu-Manu doctors, she’s overdue…”

“Those quacks!?!”

Riri raised an eyebrow. “They are the priests of Manaia, Hinewai…with the reputation of being the most learned medicine men in the Pacific…!?!”

“Pacific?”

“Oh, that’s what the Pakeha call Te Moana Nui A Kiwa…”

“The original Tapu-Manu was a female, and she may have been the best back then in her time; but I have seen these priests in action, Riri…they are just fraudulent magicians!”

Riri blinked in surprise. Her granddaughter had impressed her on her first visit, and now was no different. The woman had to keep reminding herself she was speaking with a child. “How…what do you mean?”

Hinewai poured a small drop of Tarata perfume oil on her fingers and rubbed some over her shoulders. “At your suggestion, Reina and I recently commenced our temple training. We both enjoy the Whare Tapu dancing to the elements, but…” she passed the bottle to her sister, “Reina, tell gran…Riri, some of the things we’ve witnessed at the now male dominated so-called Tapu-Manu temple of healing…”

Reina was enjoying this rare, sharing mood Hinewai was in, and dotted some perfume on her own arms. She was also pleased to be included in this even rarer, family conversation. “Well for one thing,” Reina giggled, “we saw one of the phony priests put on a mask so his female patient would not recognize him. Then, he fornicated with the woman who had sought Tapu-Manu help because she was barren. Now, the pregnant woman and her husband both think they have been...blessed…?!?”

Both girls smirked at the deceitful memory.

“I was shushed for giggling at the time,” continued Reina, “and…”

“And I was slapped across the face, for declaring too loudly that it was a man, not a God, just one of the priests…” Hinewai interrupted. Then the sisters looked at each other and giggled.

Riri was about to protest; explain that the pregnancy may have indeed been the result of spiritual faith and healing, but she could not conceal her own amusement at the tale. She sighed, to keep from laughing herself. These girls were intelligent and did not deserve to be contradicted. “I…see your point…”

“What about the blind man,” Reina went on, “who was told he could now see, and when his family told the Tapu-Manu that he could not, one of the priests held up a couple of his fingers on one hand and two plus his thumb on the other and asked the man how many fingers he could see. The man answered five, and the family could no longer argue with that, and left. If he’d answered two, he would have been correct, as in two on each hand. If he’d answered three, he would have been correct, as the priest would have explained he only wanted the patient to count the fingers on one hand. If he’d answered four, he would have been correct, for technically, a thumb is not a finger. What are the chances he would have answered one, when asked ‘how many’?”

“What if he’d answered six; seven; eight; nine or ten?” Asked Riri.

“But that’s the clever part,” Reina answered, “for the priest had turned the patient’s head towards his hand before asking him to count, and said, ‘I am holding my hand before you’…he did not say hands…the man is blind, not stupid…”

“They are tricksters Riri,” Hinewai replaced the lid on the perfume container and put it among her other assortment of containers, “and they’re with Ingari, right now!?!”

Riri was having such difficulty in coming to terms with the sister’s grasp of the deceitful priests; that she did not realize Hinewai did not call Ingari her ‘mother’. “I was informed there are no better healers here…” Riri stroked her chin thoughtfully, “but…I get the feeling you girls disagree?”

“Yes…!” Both girls answered in unison, and Hinewai added, “There is a better one, and we’ve got to find her!”

“Her?” Riri asked, “Apart from ritualistic dancing assistants, I thought it had been forbidden to have actual female healers in this land now…?”

“Yes…they were mostly female, in the ancient days when it was believed men were better made for hunting, providing and defending; and women were better made for caring, nurturing and nursing…then some priests must have felt threatened or something stupid like that, for they decided that only males had the real capacity to be doctors…so the female experts stopped teaching them – the males thought they knew everything anyway, or enough; but unknown to them, their education had barely begun, and the rejected females weren’t about to help those who forbade them to use their craft - so the male Tapu-Manu priests had little knowledge to start with and over time, they’ve forgotten a lot of the little they had; and so not to be humiliated by the superior female Tapu-Manu healers, they have brain-washed the community into believing that they are the best doctors, and not to trust the few female healers left. They have even said the females are not Tapu-Manu and never were – I say few because the females have been persecuted by the males periodically; also, causing the females to ‘go into hiding’ - some have survived, in fact one, looks after Ingari, her mother Akura, and now us…”

Riri gasped. “One? An older lady with very long hair, longer even than mine?”

“You know her?” Hinewai asked incredulously.

“She came to the palace earlier, saying Ingari needed her…the guards were about to let her in, but I…”

“You what?” Hinewai’s voice was low and soft, yet strangely commanding.

Riri’s hand went to her mouth as if afraid of her own words. “Shooo’d her away…”

“Oh, no…you, grandma, go get rid of those dammed priests! I’ll go to find her…”

Riri looked uncertain. “Are you sure?”

Hinewai looked exasperated at her grandmother and turned to her sister instead. “Reina, get those priests away from Ingari. Grandmother,” Hinewai noticed the puppy weeing on her floor rug, “just take the Beagle for a walk or something. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“You expect me to get rid of the priests,” Reina protested, “they’re grown men; they won’t listen to a little girl…”

“Even though you’re my younger sister,” Hinewai insisted, “you’ve bossed me my whole life; you can do it Reina, we’re all depending on you to be your normal bossy self, now…!?!”

Riri blinked. Hinewai must be angry; the girl had always called her Riri before, never ‘grandmother’. She watched in despair and with some guilt as the girls left hurriedly, one turning towards the old side of town, and the other taking off in the opposite direction, towards Ingari’s apartment. Then she looked at the puppy which had obediently stayed where it had been placed, in the lounging area. It gave a little bark, pleased at finally getting a little attention from someone. She looked quite confused and hurt as she approached the pet, to have her favorite granddaughter so angry and upset with her. She snapped at the maid hovering nearby, to clean up the dog’s mess. Then swallowed. “Sorry Rona, no-one’s ever spoken to me like that before…and I shouldn’t have spoken like that to you…”

“Rona smiled, “you’ll get used to it…”

“Hinewai…”

“Is almost a woman, now…”

“Oh, yes…going through puberty…”

Rona remembered when she was nasty to Hinewai, when she was at that age, and set to cleaning up to hide her guilty expression.

Riri couldn’t help but notice how even when cleaning, the servant held herself elegantly, and remembered how the Manaian preferred to get others to do their dirty work, how they preferred others to fight their wars. “You don’t mind looking after Hinewai?”

“Hinewai is extremely independent, and never normally makes a mess;;;”

“Oh, dear…I hope she gets…you both get…used to the dog…”

The puppy wagged its tail as Riri sat down beside it on the rug; then she drew the little thing into her arms and kissed its fluffy ears. She breathed in the puppy’s musky smell and smiled to herself. “Hmmm…” that’s when she finally allowed herself to laugh triumphantly, “Hinewai feels the need to protect, and Reina’s going to care for the mother and babe…it’s starting,” she lifted the puppy and looked at its little face delightedly, “it’s all, starting…”

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

“Ingari…!?!” The hushed voice reverberated and echoed throughout the grey streets of the ‘other side’ of town, “Ingariiii…”

She looked confused; she could not remember coming here. She thought she was in bed in her room. How did she get here?

She turned as if in slow motion, a floating sensation – so light on her feet - the streets were empty, just like…just like a memory…or drug induced hallucination from long ago? Is that’s what’s happening to her right now, yet once again?

Lightning struck and momentarily lit up the old and deserted dilapidated part of town – that’s when she saw it – that same hooded giant she’d seen all those years before, when a lost child – she wondered if she should follow him, as she did back then – what mysteries would he have for her this time? But it was suddenly dark again, and try as she might; she could not see him – she had a feeling he was nearby none-the-less, and she was overwhelmed by a strange sensation of guidance – as though he were here to help her – she reached out in the darkness –

“Come, princess…” she heard a voice boom above the deafening thunder. “It’s time…!?!”

She took a step towards the voice; then hesitated - half of her felt drawn to the ghostly apparition, but half of her resisted – for she had one final duty to perform, and she looked back towards the main Whare buildings, her apartment – her beautiful home – made even more so with Mitaroa’s beautiful renovations and additions – for one who came from a sea people who loved simplicity, he’d discovered that he loved nice things and had a talent for creating them…

She could see the bright towering roof of the Whare Rangitira palace sparkling in a sunbeam – the newer part of the city always seemed to gleam in contrast to the ruins of the older, yet the phenomenon seemed eerily intensified right now, and a sense of regret overtook her as she looked back, longingly – as if the forces noticed her indecision, a little whirlpool blew up in front of her and with a hand shielding her face, she was forced to turn back to her grim surroundings and almost collided with the hooded specter, who had crept up behind her – at closer inspection the creature smelled of musky decay and the cloak seemed to be decomposing in front of her eyes and she involuntarily shrunk from it -

“Come,” the voice repeated, softer now, and strangely reassuring, from one of such a deathly countenance – but did it come from the ghoul in front of her? It seemed to come from above, not in front of her – or even more amazing, from within her own head? Resounding around, or inside herself? And a faint recollection reminded her that the hooded creature was mute and – what else? She grabbed for his cloak – some of it tore away in her hand and she flung the rotting material away from her in disgust – but not before getting a glimpse of the face in the hood – that’s when she screamed, and her legs gave way beneath her…

“Noooo!” Ingari screamed and waking, sat up in bed, “No! Not…not yet…!?!”

Mitaroa reached for her. “Yes, Ingari, you must push…the doctors say it’s time. You must try harder…”

She had a hazy recollection of her husband returning from the wars, but she was not sure when; or how long he’d been there, beside her. She felt as though she’d been sweating in bed, in labor, forever. She sighed as realization of her surroundings returned. “Just a…just a dream…”

“Huh?” Mitaroa took her hand in his. “No, I’m real, Ingari…and I’m here, now…here, with you…”

She smiled at the misunderstanding, and did not explain her spooky dream, but let him think she thought she had just imagined he’d returned, instead of realizing he had, and murmured wearily, “hello, husband…”

He kissed her hand, so his bowed head hid his rapidly watering eyes from hers. “My love, my life…I’m so sorry…so very sorry…”

“Don’t be…” she looked around her. Riri had gone, probably looking for Hinewai, that was good, her mother-in-law was too loud-mouthed and bossy, for her liking. She hadn’t seen much of the notorious woman over the years, but the few moments spent with her company, always left Ingari feeling overwhelmed and weary. And she never understood why Riri insisted Hinewai was just like the warrior woman, Hinewai was clever, yes, and she’d heard all about the incredible exploits of the child fighter that the gentle girl had become on the battlefield; but at home, the girl was still as quiet and reserved as ever, as if Hinewai was so confident and secure in her capabilities; that she did not feel the need to flaunt her achievements, or boast about her numerous accomplishments. “Your mother and I don’t…share the same opinions, but we do agree that our destinies are fated…for as you know, Manaia is divided; before you came here, my father’s own brother claimed the land south of here…”

“Really…?!?”

“Yes… “

“Well actually, I didn’t know…I thought…” Mitaroa stopped. He should have known, his mother should have informed him, or…had he not been interested enough to listen, to hear, he was used to being a focused warrior, But a good leader should know everything about the land, its surroundings, and its people. Somehow, he had always been too busy; and content to leave all matters of state other than warfare, in the capable hands of the clever Rauruan, Inia. He mentally chastised himself and decided he’d better start paying attention – that’s when he realized Ingari was still talking, and shaking his head, said to himself, ‘starting with my own family’. ”What did you say?”

“I said my father was reluctant to go to war against his brother, but he was grateful to have his armies doubled by you and your people; how awful though to feel as if you need to be protected from your own brother?”

Mitaroa gasped. “That’s why…I always thought it too good to be true that a woman, even one like my mother, can just walk in one day and say…”

“Need some help down here?” Even during another agonizing contraction, Ingari interrupted, “and I don’t mean from the colder climate…” They laughed.

“Something like that…”

“That’s why there are two divisions, that had two rulers, until my father’s brother, my uncle, died, and the leading warrior, Mohaka, became the next leader, until you exiled him, now Inia and you are doing well, with both Manaia and Rauru, but…you two are not royal; not in the sense of being half-God, neither are my brothers…”

“That’s why they haven’t tried to take the title,” Mitaroa interrupted, “I thought that they were cowards…”

‘Oh, no, Mitaroa, not cowards, they appreciate and support your leadership, until that time that we have the birth of another half-God child to be born. Then, and only then, will the southwestern tribes be obliged to unite, under ancient tradition…”

Mitaroa had been here for years now, yet his wife never ceased to surprise him. He had been feeling guilty about risking her life with another pregnancy. At first, he thought that she had been against the idea. Yet she went along with it. She, too, believed in the divine mating ritual of true royal blood – people from all over the great sea believed that they were children of the Gods – he had doubted so much – he had doubted everything that he could not see or touch for himself – and here, his wife was willing to put her life at risk for the ancient belief. He had felt guilty about Rauru. Nor did he realize its former ruler was his wife’s relative. The King’s brother, who decided he wanted to be a King also, but who was not half-God, so his reign did not last long. Mitaroa had been happy to protect his new land, the Manaian district, as employed to do so. When fate handed him Rauru, a small yet eminent province known as the ‘gateway to the yet mostly unpopulated south’, they’d heard a rumor that the European were building a town down there, Welli…Welling, he couldn’t remember what it was called, he thought he’d take some men and check out the rumor one day, but for now, he had a beautiful wife and two lovely daughters, and another child due any moment, he believed he was the luckiest and most fortunate guy alive. If he’d known more about the history of this, his new land, he may have considered the possibility of conquering more of the south, taking back what was rightfully theirs, he knew little of the Pakeha European, except that they’d built a large town up north and now were building another down south, and now Mitaroa and some of his men owned a few horses that those people had bought to this land, which he liked, it was quicker than running around on foot, still, it was a little discerning. Somewhere deep down the warrior was alert to the possibility of ambitious Europeans attempting to take over all the land, but so far, the fair skinned newcomers and other tribes seemed happy enough - he’d never heard of any mumblings or rumors to the contrary, so far, he’d spent all his energies concentrating on actual threats, like the Te Arawa Tane-Atua of the northeast, or even the Awhia, known as the desert riffraff, who had been a peaceful lot, but since they opened the trading post in the desert, and have had some experience with the European coins, now some were spying, some even pillaging and plundering in paid employment by the larger tribes of the north east - they were more like a nuisance, rather than an organized army, but they had to be watched, and controlled, like naughty children, none-the-less. “What do you mean, under ancient tradition?”

“When I was pregnant, my mother explained that she finally understood what was happening, and how she wished she’d realized when…” Ingari faltered, “…my father was still alive. My mother and some of her friends, who still practice the ancient ways, had once believed that the foreigners from the sea in the north, who had ravished the land already once before, would arrive again, perhaps several times, and whose different beliefs and influence, would change our own customs – but the reality was, because the original inhabitants had been divided, they were already changing anyway, including the way the majority of the populace worship and practice medicine these days; my mother’s remaining, faithful minority group soon realized that it would actually be you foreigners, through…” Ingari hesitated, “the peaceful negotiation this time instead of war, and a marriage contract and birth of a new combined people, to bring back the old ways – that is why we - I was so sure Hinewai was ‘the one’. But now, like Riri, I realize; ‘the one’ would need a quietly confident and unemotional protector, like Hinewai, and a bossy, loving carer, like Reina, to survive…to succeed…”

Mitaroa swallowed. “This is all…some kind of plan?”

Ingari nodded. “If another half-God is born in Taranaki, of the great mountain; that should prove once and for all who the real rulers are, to all westerners and southerners alike…the people will remember, and realize the old practices still exist, how futile a mere mortal, how only the Gods can breathe life into a mighty King…”

Mitaroa looked into his wife’s face, hardly daring to believe the impossible. “That’s why…” Mitaroa gulped. “That’s why you’ve been willing to go through with all of this…?!?”

Ingari looked deathly pale and exhausted. She’d been in labor all night and day and was so delirious with the pain when he’d arrived earlier, that he thought she hadn’t even recognized him. Then she’d fallen into an exhausted and fitful sleep, until the potent earthly decaying smells of the wormwood, marsh leaf and other medicinal herbs and roots the doctors held at her nose brought her out of her exhausted and peaceful slumber, back to the now almost on-going back-breaking contractions of the child that was reluctant to be born. Even through the agony of another contraction, Ingari nodded. “Your mother and I accept our destinies, Mitaroa…even our gentle Hinewai has…you must too…you have to be very brave now, my love…not only for your family, but for your people…our people…for their future…!?!”

“But…do you actually believe all that half-God stuff?”

“Of course, my father, Hemi, was one…and we were at peace for a while, until my uncle…” she sighed, “anyway, when the northeasterners heard of the unrest within our own domain, they too, believe that we may be more easily overcome now…don’t you believe?”

Mitaroa knew his mother had organized his new life here in the new land, which to his warrior mind, was a cunning, shrewd way of conquering. He also knew Riri must have met the beautiful young princess Ingari on her very first visit here, and had hoped her amorous son would also notice, which of course, he had. That he actually fell for the girl and married her, could only add to his mother’s aspirations; so it wasn’t long before Riri, who obviously knew more about the rituals of this land than he did, wanted a grand-child to be the parent of Manaian’s future true king – because he was a mere mortal, Mitaroa could rule, but not be formally titled King – that he understood and accepted, but he’d presumed a child born to him and Ingari would have to marry another royal, perhaps a prince of Rauru, that two royals could create a King, but of course, there was no true royal in Rauru either now, and he hadn’t even considered the importance and impact that the actual mythical rituals of this land would have on its people. But he did not want to add to his wife’s current distress; especially after all she’d endured for her beliefs, and so nodded in despair, “of course…”

She seemed to relax a little. “Good…you do know how important this child is, don’t you…?!?”

All sorts of objections went through his head, like ‘all our children are important’, and ‘don’t accept death, fight for your life’, but before he could say anything, and as if she read his mind, she shook her head. “I have seen the Aitua, husband…the giant hooded apparition has come for me, and is waiting…”

And as though to confirm what she said, the boom of thunder cracked across the heavens above them, and rumbled throughout the building walls…

Hinewai was lost. She’d only ever gone to ‘the wrong side’ of town on a couple of occasions with her mother, previously. When needed for her war training injuries, the witch had turned up at the main whare palace apartments and found her way to Hinewai’s room seemingly without the parent’s knowledge. The girl had presumed that some of the boys in the army had relatives, perhaps even homes in this area, and had spoken of the girl that their trainer had picked on. She had no way of knowing that some of the palace staff were also grateful patients of the witch from the ‘wrong side’ of town. Among the wrecked walls, broken roofs, banging doors, dark windows, ripped filthy hangings, and rolling weeds in the dusty streets, all the lanes and buildings looked too much alike. She’d raced out of the palace, through the now closed for the day Tika marketplace and headed for the old ruins; presuming she’d remember the way to Nahera, her mother’s healer. Nor had she realized previously how large this part of town was. Or how much of it was seemingly deserted. She’d supposed that the inhabitants were retiring for the night, or taking refuge from the pending storm, but the lack of cooking fires and lights from covered windows made the depressing scene even gloomier than usual. At an intersection she stopped and turned – and realized even as she was doing so, that this was the wrong thing to do – for now she had no idea from whence she had just come, or which way to go. From this position, she was too low to see any rooftops of the nicer side of town, yet too high to notice any recognizable landmarks – she looked for familiar trees, or other known landscapes to her, to no avail – even the few trees on this side of town looked gnarled and contorted, as if they also, felt as drab as their dismal surroundings and inhabitants, intent on never recovering from the plight of a devastating, previous onslaught.

Even the sky was too cloudy and the evening darkening too quickly to be of any help to the girl – it didn’t matter which way she looked, she had no idea which was north, south, east or west – she took a few steps in one direction, hoping to come across a familiar sight, but in vain – a few more steps in what she thought was the opposite direction, found she did not recognize anything else, from just moments earlier…

Then, movement down one street caught her eye, and making towards the distant figures, she called for them to stop and wait; however, with obvious derision; the figures hurried their pace and seemingly vanished into the walls. When Hinewai reached where they had been, there were little lanes leading off in all directions, plus ladders going upwards, between buildings, and steppingstones going down and around other buildings – they could have gone anywhere and she could have tried all the wrong possibilities – there were doorways also, but a few knocks on some of them along with calling ‘is anyone home’ failed to produce any answers.

She decided climbing a ladder might provide a better view of her surroundings, but about half way up, one old rotten step crumbled beneath her and she momentarily faltered and momentarily, leaned up against the building wall – clutching hold of some old knotted and leafless vines, she managed to keep going up and around until finally, she found herself on another lane, actually cut into the side of a small hill – Hinewai was still not high enough to see anything familiar, but she did know she had never seen this road before, and that she was going the wrong way, so she hurried back down the ladder, remembering not to step on what remained of the loose rung that she had broken.

That’s when she saw one of the nearby doors closing, meaning someone was now home so she ran and banged on it. “I know someone’s in there, please help me, I am Hinewai, Mitaroa’s oldest daughter, and I need directions…”

But there was no response to her calls. She understood that most of these people resented the people who resided on the nicer side of town; but she was just a young girl, surely, they’d feel inclined to help a youngster, rich or poor. Obviously not. She also understood the people here probably did not know who she was, for surely, they may be more inclined to help the young warrior girl, one of the protectors of this town, and this land.

She felt as though she was being watched. She looked at the windows, but they looked dark and empty. She let her hands fall to her sides. This was the first time in her life that she did not know what to do, or where to go. The first time the independent girl felt helpless, and in need of others. She sighed. What would her father do in this predicament, she wondered – he would probably keep wandering around until he came across something, anything, that he’d recognize. What would Riri do? Hinewai almost laughed. That woman would never have let herself get lost in the first place. Riri would have made mental notes on landmarks as she entered unknown territory – a little late, but Hinewai had no alternative choices – she knew she’d recognize the loose step and vines if she circled this area again and shaking her still damp hair from her recent bath, took off in another direction, with renewed confidence.

Reina paused at the threshold of Ingari’s room. She was about to knock, but the door swung open at her slightest touch. She had expected to hear the mother’s cries of pain, the doctors asking each other befuddled questions, and the father shouting orders at them to do something, but it was eerily silent. Still, she was astounded at the chaos before her.

The pretty Princess looked pale and exhausted, her sweaty hair flayed out around her in disarray – her husband, the mighty father Reina adored, was holding her hands to his lips, tears streaming down his face; and the doctors, looking on in bewilderment, were standing as far away from their patient as possible, and as far away from the distraught husband as they could be in the small room, afraid of his wrath – the girl hesitated in the doorway, feeling very small and insignificant, and something else that the normally confident and officious child had never felt before, unsure – was she really capable of interfering in the convoluted scene of the silently distraught adults before her?

Her first instinct was to run to her own room, far away on the other side of the vast royal residence; and even further, to her mother’s place, but she knew Hinewai would never forgive her if she did – and although at times she envied her older sister a little, she adored her also and could not bear the thought of Hinewai’s wrath directed at her – she had seen her sister’s anger aimed at others and it was frightening to witness and even scarier for the poor victims – although still quite quiet at home, since her army training and experiences, Hinewai was now always first and foremost a warrior, to be obeyed, without compromise – no matter where, no matter what…

Within those first moments in the doorway, Reina sensed the life slipping away from the wretched woman – Ingari looked swallowed up in the huge feather blanket, with all the strength and will to live drained from the woman’s fatigued expression – the beautiful large eyes were sunken and already seemed distant, as if waiting for the inevitable – and apart from an aching whimper, even screaming had become too much for the fragile lady…

Also, within those first moments Reina noticed her father, wiping his wife’s forehead, pleading with Ingari to fight, but even his eyes looked haunted, as if resigned to the hopelessness of it all, as if he’d lost her already…

Momentarily undecided herself, it wasn’t until Reina noticed one of the four doctors in the room holding up some kind of monstrous knife and move toward Ingari, and one of the other doctors lifting Ingari’s blanket, that stirred the child to action. “Stop!” Reina ran to the bed and attempted to pull the cover back down over the woman, “don’t touch her!”

Stunned, the old Tapa gowned priests looked at each other in surprise, then turned on the child. “Out of the way girl,” the one with the knife pointed the grotesque implement at the child, “you shouldn’t be in here, now get out!”

“No!” Reina grabbed the whalebone instrument and tried to pull it from the man. He hadn’t expected the girl to be so strong and it slipped from his grasp easily and before he knew what was happening, she’d thrown it out of the window. By the time the doctors realized what she was doing, she had gone to the table they’d set up in the room and was tossing all their other instruments out through the window as well. “Now get out of here, all of you!“

Amidst some half-hearted protests, the doctors looked at each other, feeling even more bewildered than before the girl’s sudden outburst. For a moment they looked at Mitaroa for his support, but their great leader was as startled as they were and in his anxious state, did not reprimand his illegitimate, younger daughter.

The one who had moved toward Ingari with the knife grabbed hold of the girl as if to toss her out of the window as well. But with army training, Reina reacted instinctively without thinking and elbowed the priest where it hurt most. Mitaroa then opened his mouth as if to scold the girl at last, but he was feeling too proud of yet another young warrior daughter in the making and could not bring himself to do so.

The oldest of the doctors, watching one hold himself in pain, another running after the scattered instruments and the other two backing from the girl, approached Mitaroa. “Are you going to stop the crazy child?”

As if in answer, Reina attempted throwing the doctor’s table out of the room also. It was just like a small, raised seat piece of furniture, still, a leg got stuck between some uneven floor rugs, but the strong girl lifted the table effortlessly and pushed it also, through the window, with parts of the ripped carpet hanging on the leg that had got caught. Then, with hands on hips, she faced the doctor that had gone to her father. “Now are you fakes going to leave peacefully, or do I have to throw all of you out too?”

The others did not have to be told twice, they ran from the room, not even hesitating long enough to bow to Mitaroa before leaving. Now that he had been abandoned by his younger colleagues, the oldest one lost any remaining courage he may have had and glaring at the girl as he passed her on his way out, could not resist one last nasty comment to Mitaroa. “Your wild daughters need disciplining!”

Mitaroa called after the man, “not any more so than my witless doctors!”

Ingari raised herself on her elbows, raised her eyebrows at what had just happened in her room, smiled at the girl, mouthed a silent ‘thank-you’, and then collapsed on her bed again.

Mitaroa opened his arms out to the girl, and she approached the adults, looking more confident than she felt.

Ingari was the first to speak. “What a brave little girl you are, Reina…”

Mitaroa drew Reina to him and kissed her forehead. “Did Hinewai ask you to do this?”

Reina nodded. “She’s gone to get Nahera…”

“Two brave little girls, but…” Ingari sighed, “there’s nothing Nahera can do, either…”

Reina was close to tears. “Are we…too late?”

Ingari smiled at the child. “No…we all have our destinies, I fear I have lived mine, now you must live yours. You and Hinewai have important responsibilities…you know that don’t you?”

Reina could not imagine looking after a baby, but she thought of the dolls and puppy she had never been given, and her smile broadened. “I’ll do my best, milady,…”

After a while, Hinewai felt as though she was getting quite good at recognizing landmarks, and her spirits improved – but then a sudden flash of lightning bought her out of her reverie – even if she was avoiding going down the same area twice, she could be doing this for a long time, before finding the old woman’s house, and it was getting dark, and they were on the brink of a storm – she would have to start knocking on doors again, if she was going to get the real Tapu-Manu healer to Ingari in time.

“I am Whiu-Hinehoe, Hinewai, daughter of Mitaroa, and I am looking for Nahera…please help me…!?!” She pleaded as she knocked on one door, then another. But there was no answer. A feeling of failure and fatigue crept over the girl, but even if she gave up looking for Nahera, Hinewai did not now know, how to return to her own home – she never realized just how large their town was…

Then, a light went on in a window a few houses down, and another beyond that. Obviously, not all dwellings were inhabited and perhaps the first door she had first seen closing and had knocked on may have been closing soon after someone had left, instead of arriving. Her spirits picked up, as she made towards the lights.

Before she got there though, a man stepped out of a side lane and blocked her way. Another approached her from behind. Their clothes were crumpled, but they were not wearing the usual filthy rags most wore on this side of town. They’d been drinking, but the smell on their breath was of quality Kawa, not some cheap ground Haku grass cane or Maitai berry brew.

Hinewai took on a warrior’s stance, they did likewise. She had not bought any weapons with her. For the first time in her life, she would find out if her speed and suppleness alone would be enough to defend herself with. She had no weapons, strength, or weight, to rely on. She scowled up at them with what she’d hoped would be a threatening, hostile expression. They peered down at her from under their Mahunga headbands.

“What is a little girl doing wandering the empty streets alone, and at night?” One of them asked.

“Don’t let my size deceive you…” but she’d recognized the voice, and her distinctive half smile appeared with relief. “So…what took you two so long?”

They relaxed from their fighter’s stances that they had been teasing her with. “Your father doesn’t think much of us, but we have some uses…” said the other one.

She relaxed from her own fighter’s stance. “I can use your help right now, drunken uncles that you are…”

“That’s why we’re here, spoiled brat that you are…” answered Hepa, the closest one.

Her half smile disappeared. “Akura sent you?”

They nodded, a little surprised. They were not used to Hinewai calling her grandmothers by their names. “She had a feeling you’d need our help…” said the other one, Apero.

“Nahera feels safest,” Hepa continued, “well hidden…” .

“You’ve been watching me for some time now, haven’t you…?”

“We had to make sure you were on your own…”

“Well, we’ve already wasted too much time. Let’s go…”

“Nahera may be a little upset,” said Apero as he turned and led the others towards her place, “she went to the palace apartments earlier, and…”

“Was asked to leave…” interrupted Hinewai.

“I wouldn’t say asked, exactly,” added Hepa.

“No.” Agreed Hinewai, “she wasn’t asked nicely, but you two should know how…palace people can be…”

“Especially foreign guests,” Apero could not keep the contempt from his voice.

Hinewai frowned. “Careful, I have foreign blood…”

“Well,” Hepa cleared his throat, “we have too, actually…”

Apero reached out to clout his brother’s head, but Hepa ducked, and Apero just missed hitting him, saying, “no, we don’t!”

Hinewai looked from one uncle to the other. “Oh, I didn’t know…”

Hepa kept out of his brother’s reach and insisted, “yes, we do!”

“From…Takitumu? Tipu-Aki?” Hinewai asked Hepa.

Hepa nodded. “Yes…”

“That was a few generations back,” Apero interrupted, “we were born here brother, so we’re natives, not foreigners…”

“Still,” Hinewai looked at Apero, “we could be related, other than through…my father marrying your sister…”

Apero managed to hide a hurt expression. Hinewai never referred to Ingari as her mother. Still, he was impressed with his niece’s determination to become the warrior that her father and Riri were forcing her to be. He remembered how sweet, gentle, and clever the little girl once was. He had retrieved and kept drawings that the talented child had discarded when she’d entered the army. She believed that to excel at warfare, she had to devote herself to it entirely and apparently, had never created pictures again since, except to design weapons. And now people feared the tiny girl. He knew she’d started attending temple training also, but religion was a devotion, and not a career, or hobby.

He and Mitaroa would never be close, for the warrior from the old land, or actually ‘stop-over’ land, had killed his father, but he loved his sister, and her only surviving child, to date – and although Ingari had forgiven Mitaroa, he could not – neither could Hepa – even though their own existence was due to almost the very same scenario, as one of their own forefathers had conquered this land previously, and taken a native girl to wife – history repeating itself – but, also due to history repeating itself; Apero and Hepa, born of conquerors as well, had a grudging respect for the latest conqueror, and no desire to fight for their birthright – they knew that they were not half-Gods like their father had been, and quarter-Gods was not good enough. So, they’d devoted their lives to looking after Akura and Ingari to the best of their abilities. Of course, Mitaroa also made sure the women of the palace were safe, and well provided for; so the brothers had little to do except provide companionship and love, and alcohol still remained a major part of their rather tedious lives – they’d both had army training as youngsters, as most able bodied males did in their community, but Mitaroa did not trust them enough yet to have them in his forces – at first, when Mitaroa had killed Hemi; the boys and their mother had been confined to their rooms, prisoners in their own home – over the years though, they’d found that Mitaroa did not seem to mind them wandering the entire residence and grounds, nor did he object when they eventually ventured out into the streets – it was obvious Ingari had persuaded Mitaroa they were not a concern and attempts should be made for them all living together like a normal family – and somehow, the princes had become bodyguards to the palace women, especially Akura, Ingari and Hinewai.

And, they had found the adorable baby Hinewai so easy to love – they had grown closer to Ingari when she was pregnant, than they had ever been with their sister previously – because she’d hated Mitaroa as much as they did at that time - and they were nearby when Hinewai was born, the estranged father preferring to live at Rauru, back then – so the princes secretly prided themselves with the thought that they had actually bonded with the baby, before her own father had.

So if Hinewai oft-times seemed aloof and remote, the uncles believed it was because of the girl’s strange upbringing – being born in a temple to a busy father and fragile mother, and growing up in a palace with a half-sister who was not much younger than herself, and with a grandmother and two uncles who were at odds with her father because her father had killed her grandfather – it was not surprising the toddler followed a nursery teacher around rather than her own family, and buried herself among her paintings…

And, they were still treated as royalty, and knew that although Mitaroa led, the place still belonged to them.

Right now, they noticed how the clever girl was taking notice of her surroundings as they walked to Nahera’s place, for she had learned earlier how easy it was to lose her way among the rubble and ruins of a part of town where the people were either too poor to rebuild, or more likely, preferred to leave the wreckage as a reminder of the carnage of conquerors, so the carnage would never be forgotten among the inevitable change that came with new rulers and leaders and their modern renovations known as the ‘right side’ of town, just as this area was known as the ‘wrong side’.

After a few minutes of crossing over sludge on rotting rickety planks, dodging washing hanging out to dry on lines hung between hovels, and kicking debris out of their way, they finally neared Nahera’s place. And at last, Hinewai recognized the deserted looking old ruin they entered with no window coverings or door, the back window opening they climbed out of and the ledge that led them to some carefully concealed dug out stairs in the remains of an adjacent clay wall which led them to what appeared to be a completely collapsed building – a few scattered looking but well positioned rocks provided stepping stones that took them under the caved in roof and as they entered, the place still seemed deserted except for the various aromas of healing herbs, balms, ointments and the refreshing scents that Hinewai knew so well, which revealed the best healer in town sheltered here somewhere among the debris.

It would be a couple of years yet before Hinewai would find out how an old woman managed to view anyone entering through slits in certain seemingly fallen timbers and how sliding a hinged partition from an inner chamber would in turn cause an outer barrier to open as if on its own accord, to allow only the visitors she knew, enter her well-hidden and barricaded habitation under the ruins. The first little chamber was empty on purpose and kept dark – this was where Nahera managed to spy on anyone approaching (if they managed to get this far, most could not imagine anyone living under a collapsed building and did not even find the steps at the back of the first deserted house) and was kept dark so no light would be detected through her viewing gaps. Heavy dark drapes divided the small shadowy entrance and her main room, which was filled with herbs, medicines, and other bizarre concoctions that most would rather not know about.

The men indicated the girl continue alone, and the door opened as she cautiously approached. She remembered the woman kept the most unlikely pets, like spiders, bugs, and bats, and looked around herself gingerly as she stepped over the threshold, wishing she had thought to put on some footwear before rushing from her home.

She looked back at her uncles, who watched with obvious trepidation; she’d heard her father say they were drunken cowards, but she loved the gentle men who had spent more time with her in the nursery than her own father had, and now that she was almost always surrounded by warriors, instead of comparing and despising her uncles, she appreciated their peaceful company in her lovely restful home, for the much needed contrast in her life. They were not small men either, she had more confidence in their fighting abilities than they did themselves…

She knew that she could always rely on them to come to her aid, she understood their plight – too young at the time to take on the experienced conqueror, being a little too tipsy to think straight, incarcerated in front of their own people by a foreigner, living the reputation even they believed they deserved, labeled as drunken, cowardly and good for nothing royal princes, which they accepted, simply for being too young, drunk and scared, when her father had taken over; albeit, they devoted their lives to trying to make their mother, sister and niece, happy. Thus, they had become the unofficial security of the family in the main Whare Palace apartments. Mitaroa still had official security guards, who unknown to him, and at Riri’s demands, had escorted Nahera from their home – which the uncles would never have done and by the time they found out, and were informed by Reina that Hinewai had gone to plead Nahera to return, some time had passed, and it took awhile to find Hinewai in the darkening atmosphere.

Before Hinewai could contemplate any further, Nahera pulled back her heavy inner drape and stood looking down at the girl, with a hand on her hip, as if having been inconveniently disturbed.

Hinewai opened her mouth to speak, but froze, as the scarf she thought the woman was wearing around her neck turned out to be a bat and it had lifted its head to inspect the girl – eye to eye – she found herself looking into the hypnotic eyes of the creature, so close to her own; that she could actually feel its breath as it opened its mouth and displayed its dripping fangs, the long barbed tongue quivering so close to the tip of her petite nose –

Nahera made no attempts to move the bat from the girl’s face. “What do you want Hinewai?”

Hinewai resisted the urge to step back and thinking of all the dangers she’d faced on the battlefield, tried to appear brave. “Ingari…” then to the surprise of the woman, herself, and the uncles just outside, “my mother needs you!” She’d never called Ingari her mother before.

At that, Nahera flung the bat’s head over her shoulder as if it really was a scarf and to Hinewai’s relief, it appeared content to stay there. “But I did go earlier, I went to help her…!?!”

“I know, and you were not welcomed…please don’t let her suffer because of the stupid palace guards, they were only doing their job…”

“Oh, I’m not blaming the guards, I know the ones that were on duty, and they have never stopped me from going to tend to Ingari, or you!”

“Then please don’t let her suffer because of an…ignorant guest!?!”

“You call your foreign grandmother…a guest?”

“Riri doesn’t live here, she’s visiting…”

“But…she’s not ignorant either, Hinewai…she knows there’s nothing that I, or anyone, can do…Ingari’s fate is sealed…”

Hinewai felt the tears well up and blinking, waited for her eyes to dry. She had never cried in her life, she was not about to start now, not even for the woman she had never until now called her mother. ‘A warrior could never afford to show weakness, of any kind, at any time.’ She’d heard Hauku say so many times. “But…you have to try, Nahera…she may feel inclined to fight a little harder for her life, with your presence and…expertise…”

“I…” Nahera had been about to protest further, and say there’s no use in fighting destiny, that even Ingari had accepted her lot; but the sight of the gentle girl who had become a fearless warrior before her, pleading for her help, was too much to bear. “Alright.” She sighed, “wait outside with your uncles, I’ll grab some things,” she shrugged, “with your will, and my knowledge, maybe the Gods will…grant us favor, this…frightful night…”

A deafening whack of thunder directly above them finally shattered the smoldering evening atmosphere and rolled across the heavens and almost immediately, blinding lightning split the dark clouds and fissured sharp and crackling sparks in all directions. Apero and Hepa jumped with fright, Hinewai swallowed nervously as she joined them, and Nahera attempted to hide her apprehension as she threw a few things into her basket.

They were all quiet on their way back to the palace, Nahera was afraid that if she spoke, she may reveal too much too soon to the hopeful girl – the uncles were both lost in their own thoughts of the life their sister had because of her husband’s grandmother, and the price she was now paying for it – and Hinewai focused on the now seemingly lifeless scarf that Nahera wore as it flowed out behind her as the woman walked, to keep from thinking of what awaited them at home – and when they were almost there, the rain broke at last – slowly at first, softly caressing; but by the time they reached the main square, it was pouring down in torrents – it felt heavy on their skin, heavy on their clothing and hair – as if its purpose was to slow them down - making their clothes stick to them, which hindered the men, who wore full cloaks and sandals – they tried to keep up with the girl clad only in a piece of material tied around her hips, as she broke into a run – the old woman surprised them all, who managed to keep up with the girl despite her age, long gown, and hideous scarf – crossing the square in the downpour however seemed to take forever – the rain had doused any street lighting and Hinewai struggled to push the long wet locks from her eyes – albeit, she had to guess the direction in the deluge that appeared to be intent on preventing their return – so it was with relief they finally struggled up the porch stairs – the guards jumping aside at the return of the wet warrior girl, her drenched uncles and healing woman - and they continued running towards Ingari’s room – but nothing prepared them for the sight as they entered her apartment – Hinewai froze, Nahera beside her, the men behind them – Hinewai took everything in at once – Reina rocking the new-born baby in her arms, Riri cuddling the puppy, Akura on one side of Ingari’s bed stroking her daughter’s hair, Mitaroa on his knees on the other side of the bed crying his heart out – and Ingari – pale, lifeless – but still as lovely in death, as in life - just like the vision Hinewai had had of her mother - lying in her own blood soaked bed…

For a moment they stood in the doorway, their drenched clothing making pools on the floor. Hinewai was the first to move, with thoughts of ‘we’re too late’ ‘we mightn’t have been, if I hadn’t lost my way’ and ‘too late – too late’ then in her resilient way, made towards the baby, the future, without glancing back at her mother, the past – but - even with the thunder and lightning, she heard every word that was spoken in her mother’s room that stormy night.

Nahera went to Akura’s side, and Hinewai’s uncles followed her. Mitaroa stretched one stricken hand out to wrap a lock ‘of Ingari’s hair around his arm, as if he’d never let go. Akura noticed his hand was near her own and took his hand in hers. Mitaroa looked up and across at her in surprise. Her eyes were sad, but also clear, and knowing. He reached his other hand over and clasped hers in both of his. Ingari’s brothers nodded their approval at the gesture. The wronged family knew Mitaroa loved the beautiful princess with all his heart, and it was obvious that they had forgiven him - it was time to forgive himself, and bring his family closer, for the sake of his daughters.

“I’m sorry…” he started to Akura, but stopped and waited, as thunder boomed overhead.

“So am I…” her voice was soft, but the words were not lost to the storm around them. “I grieved for Hemi so much, that it took a while for me to realize that…you…are as much an innocent pawn in this ‘path of reckoning’ as Ingari, and…” she glanced at Riri, the woman she once believed to be a threat, “as all of us are…”

Mitaroa frowned. “Reckoning?”

Akura nodded. “It is our job to right the wrongs, and…” now she glanced at the baby, “concentrate on the future…”

Mitaroa wasn’t sure he understood the woman, but he nodded anyway, as he thought of the last promise he’d made Ingari. He moved his glance from Akura to Nahera. He’d never been this close to the woman, and if the rumors were correct, the healer was ancient, but she had hardly any signs of aging – it was her eyes, glittering in their wisdom, full of a lifetime of adventures and experiences, that revealed any glimpse of her mature age. “Nahera, before she died,” Mitaroa choked, “Ingari asked me to have you reinstated, in your rightful place, in the Tapu-Manu temple…”

Only a slight glimmer in the old woman’s eyes illustrated she had even heard him in the thunderous, stormy night.

“But I’m going to do better than that,” Mitaroa continued, “I’ve never been a particularly religious man, and my job has kept me too busy to realize that the priests in their arrogance, just the opposite to me, took religious rituals too seriously, and have forgotten a lot of our simple, natural methods; so, I’ve decided to build you a new temple, Nahera…bigger and better than the old one, in memory of…my wife…”

“That’s not necessary, Mitaroa…” Nahera spoke at last.

“Oh, yes, it is,” Mitaroa cleared his throat, “and I promise that I will find out more about my people, our ancient traditions here, and re-build the ‘wrong side’ of town…after all, it was the sea people who destroyed it before, so now it’s up to me, also a sea person, to make amends…”

“Alright, I agree you can build a new temple, and thank-you…but I won’t reside there…”

Akura looked surprised at her old friend. “But you…won’t have to hide out in that dump anymore…?!?”

“I have patients in that part of town,” continued Nahera, “who will never venture over to this side…besides, I have lived there for so long now; that I feel comfortable in my daily routine, lifestyle…and, most who remain there, feel the same way…so by all means, rebuild homes for those who want you too, but leave those of us who don’t, alone…we actually don’t want it rebuilt Mitaroa, lest we forget…it is best left as it is, as a monument both to the past, and the future…”

“Do you want to hold her?” Reina asked Hinewai.

Hinewai shook her head. “I got caught in the rain, and I’m still dripping wet…”

The uncles joined the sisters and looked at the baby.

Apero gasped. “She’s beautiful…”

“She looks just like her mother,” added Hepa, “she has Ingari’s long eyelashes…”

“That curl up at the ends,” Reina beamed down at the bundle in her arms.

“And cupid-bow lips,” Hinewai pointed at the little mouth.

The baby grabbed Hinewai’s finger, curling its fingers around hers.

“That’s a good omen,” Riri joined in, “she knows she’s going to have to depend on you, Hinewai…”

Hinewai resisted the urge to protest, that it was just a baby reaching out to something in front of its face, but she shrugged and looking up at Riri asked, “is it…’the one’?”

“Of course,” Riri beamed proudly, “she’s ‘the one’…”

Hinewai then resisted a sarcastic ‘just as well, under the circumstances’ and returning her attention back to the baby, asked instead, “has she been named?”

Reina nodded. “Ingari wanted her to be called Whero-Tairi…”

Hinewai kissed the fingers still clutching her own tightly. “That means, my little sister, that you are…the red tide…” not knowing at the time, that one day she would see her sweet sister smiling expectantly, in a sunset reflected sea…

“Look,” Nahera turned towards the window, “the rain’s stopped, and the sun’s rising…”

Riri followed the healer out onto the balcony. The clouds were fast receding, and the muggy humidity had dissipated. A gentle breeze now blew in from the ocean.

Riri drew in a welcome breath of fresh air. “And the storms over, at last…”

“It has been a long night,” Nahera faced the woman who had chased her from the palace earlier.

Riri looked into the eyes of the healer and felt there was no need to apologize. Both women knew there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent what was destined to be. “And…a fateful one…”

Akura also, joined the women outside. “We have done our part, now it’s up to the young girls…”

Riri wondered if she could get out of apologizing to the Queen also. She’d avoided glancing at Akura the whole night, but the balcony was a lot smaller than Ingari’s room, and bowing her head, Riri sneaked a glance at the woman who’d once believed the warrior woman from the sea to be her rival. Riri managed to avoid a gasp. They must be about the same age, she thought to herself, but although it was obvious Akura had once been a very beautiful woman, this close, the Queen appeared to be so much older than she was.

As if reading her mind, Akura stood in front of Riri. “I blame you, warrior sea-woman…you seduced my husband, your son then killed him and forced my daughter to marry him, my sons have been reduced to mere security officers, and my daughter’s dead…of course, I’m a haggard old crone…”

As all great warriors, Riri was good at hiding any expression, but for once she failed to conceal an involuntary wince, at the thought of her own beloved son’s rise in position, at the cost of the poor Queen’s losses. She forced herself to look at the deprived woman before her and sighed. “Yes, I know…everyone blames me, even my son, and my granddaughter…”

Akura softened a little. “They’ve…actually said so?”

Riri shook her head. “Of course not. Mitaroa…Mitaroa would not dare, and Hinewai is too young to fully realize it yet…”

Akura lifted her head high, as if being taller than the famous Riri was superior to being stronger. All three women on the balcony at that time were aware of the power all three possessed, and that it was their power that had bought them all together at this time. Then sighing, the Queen turned from the warrior woman and leaned on the rail. “No, I don’t blame you, Riri…” then she looked up to the sky. One last little star still twinkled in the glorious azure shades of first light. “I blame the stars…”

All three looked up at the one remaining tiny bright globe. It was in no hurry to fade into the first sunrays of the dewy morning.

“And the sun…” added Nahera softly.

“I blame the moon…” whispered Riri, “and still, I worship her…”

The other two nodded in agreement.

Then, a faraway screeching caught Riri’s attention, and she turned towards the sound. “But…what’s that?” She pointed to a dark mass like a black cloud approaching them from the far horizon, in the clear, morning sky.

“Birds,” answered Nahera, and smiled…“a mass of migrating birds, returning home…”

“Returning home?” Riri asked inquisitively.

Akura glanced back at her daughter’s room; full of sadness, yet also of hope; then faced the foreign warrior woman as the swarm squealed and passed overhead. “We have a saying here Riri; ‘spring, and all things new, arrives…on the wings of birds’…”

Go to Chapter Four

THE ENEMY