Child of the Dawn (40 page)

Land-crab was a man, Matopahu reminded himself, and could be destroyed by a man. The usurper had gods to protect him, but so did Matopahu. The
ari'i
knelt behind the trees to make a final plea to his guardian spirit.
 

Then he turned and whispered a word to his companions. One warrior had brought hot embers, covered with sand, sealed within a coconut shell. In the darkness, Matopahu heard the rustling of coconut fronds. Someone blew on the coals while another man fed the small fire. In a moment, smoky light flared up from palm-rib torches.
 

Matopahu took two in one hand, a spear in the other, then gave the order to begin. The fires would have to be set quickly, before the drowsy guards spotted the flames. The four men spread out along the fence.
 

At Matopahu's signal, he and his warriors tossed the blazing bundles in high arcs, over the fence and onto the dry roofs within the compound. Flames leaped up and spread. A ferocious crackling sounded as the coconut thatch began to burn.
 

From within the houses came shrieks of alarm and shouts of enemy attack. Matopahu's men seized their war clubs and hefted their spears.
 

A moment later, confusion reigned, servants screaming, guards rushing to protect their chief. Holding a spear in one hand, his war club slung by a cord from his wrist, Matopahu vaulted the waist-high fence into the compound. Smoke pouring off the blazing thatch filled his nostrils and made his eyes burn.
 

Now, in these first moments of surprise, he had his best advantage. A sleepy guard staggered toward him. With two blows from his club he felled the man, then went after another.
 

This one put up a fight. He feinted, swung, then recovered quickly enough to parry Matopahu's swing. Land-crab's warrior lunged with his foot, trying a wrestler's trick to topple the ari'i. Matopahu caught him with a glancing blow to the chin, and the second guard went down.
 

By this time, the
ari'i
had lost all contact with his companions. Noise and smoke surrounded and isolated him. He saw dim figures fleeing, carrying off rolls of
tapa
or other valuables from the fire. Matopahu headed to the burning house of the usurper. He could not let Land-crab get away.
 

Even through the rolling billows of smoke, the chief on his bearer should be easy to spot. Or had Land-crab given up his pretensions of grand nobility and fled on his own feet? As the
ari'i
ran, he saw only a few straggling servants hurrying from his path. Ahead, the entire roof of the chief's house was ablaze.
 

Matopahu rushed up to the cane-walled dwelling and peered inside. The flames in the rafters lit the smoky interior with a flickering orange light.
Empty
!
 

The
ari'i
turned and saw two warriors closing in on him. The first was broad-shouldered and heavy, the second wiry and fast. The
ari'i
parried the wiry man's blow and ducked the other's; he heard the club crash above him into the wall of the burning house. In the moment it took for the burly guard to yank his weapon free, Matopahu swung at the other man, but this one was too quick for him. He parried with a blow that knocked the club from Matopahu's grip.
 

With a growl of defiance, the
ari'i
lunged, headfirst, ramming his head into the slimmer man's gut, knocking the wind out of him. Matopahu just had time to snatch up his weapon before the second man attacked again. This fellow was huge. Nothing short of a solid strike to the head would bring him down.
 

Matopahu blocked a massive blow that set his whole arm tingling. His fingers felt numb. He danced forward and back, waiting to recover sensation in his hand. The other man closed in.
 

The fighters were so near the burning house now that the heat burned Matopahu's skin. He ducked and feinted, trying to bait his opponent into making an awkward swing. The other man grinned and raised his weapon for the killing blow.
 

This time Matopahu was a bit quicker. He swung low, striking at the knee, setting the warrior off balance. Land-crab's man toppled against the broken wall just as the rest of the house began to collapse. He screamed as he tried to free himself from the splintered bamboo and the falling sheets of burning thatch.
 

The
ari 'i
had no more interest in these two. Their chief was gone, probably heading for the sanctuary of a
marae.

But which
marae
? He knew that the usurper had ordered a grand construction on a new site, but it had not yet been dedicated to the gods. Perhaps there was still time to catch him.
 

 

Tepua and Eye-to-heaven had been cautiously making their way toward the high chief's compound when they heard the first sounds of fighting. Led by the glimmer of distant firelight, they quickened their pace, following the shoreline and then heading inland through breadfruit groves. By the time they reached the scene, nearly everyone had fled.
 

Groaning men lay sprawled on the ground. Some did not move at all. Tepua's mouth went dry as she saw someone who resembled Matopahu. No, it was not him. Her pulse hammered as she rushed from one fallen warrior to the next.
 

"My
taio
is gone," said the priest, after making his own search of the ruined compound. "And so is Land-crab."

"We must find Matopahu." She glanced around, seeing a flash of white near the remains of the compound fence. A four-legged figure was moving....
Te Kurevareva.
Tepua had almost forgotten the dog that she had been forced to give Land-crab. It had survived the fire, she was glad to see, but when she called its name, the dog turned and fled.
 

Then Tepua noticed a crowd gathering, people staring in astonishment at the smoldering remains. Everyone hung back, unwilling to trespass on the high chief's land. "Look what has happened," Tepua called to them. "The usurper gave up and ran away. Is there not a warrior among you? Take arms! Reclaim what is yours."
 

The onlookers shrank from her exhortation, creeping back so that the glow of dying fires did not shine on their frightened faces. "Who will lead us now?" they muttered. Other men arrived, some carrying weapons. They stared at each other in bewilderment.
 

"Matopahu will lead you," Tepua declared.

Eye-to-heaven strode forward and addressed the crowd. "It is true. Matopahu has returned to drive the usurper out."

Voices rose. Several onlookers recognized their former high priest and muttered his name. A small group surged forward. Tepua knew some of these men, who had been respected leaders under Matopahu's brother. Now they looked gaunt and disheveled; they stood, shoulders slumping, and stared at the ground. "Why do you taunt us with lies?" asked one. "Matopahu is dead."
 

"Is that what Land-crab told you?" Tepua asked indignantly.

"He showed us Matopahu's skull," the first elder answered.

"My
taio
will be amused to see it," answered the priest.
 

"Even if the
ari'i
lives," another man pointed out, "the curse is still on him. We saw what happened to Knotted-cord. There was no deception then."
 

"And what about this?" asked Eye-to-heaven, sweeping his hand across the scene of destruction. "If my
taio
was cursed, how did he manage to launch the attack? Where are Land-crab's renowned guards?"
 

A shout from the rear seemed to answer his question. "Away from the high chief's compound!" a sharp voice declared. "The fire was an accident. Land-crab is in control. Go back to sleep, all of you, unless you want to feed the gods."
 

As the warriors drew nearer, the crowd broke up in haste. Some people were so confused that they first raced
toward
the oncoming warriors before realizing their mistake and turning aside. Cries of anguish ran through the smoky air.
 

Tepua felt Eye-to-heaven's hand grasp her arm and pull her in another direction. "We cannot fight by ourselves," he said. "But there is something else we can do that is more important than finding Matopahu."
 

"No, we can't desert him! He needs our help."

"Be patient, Tepua. He is not far away and he knows how to take care of himself."

By now the moon had risen over the island's central peaks, but little light filtered through the leaves overhead. The priest led her by a circuitous route; at last she saw where he was heading. Breadfruit trees gave way to plantings of the sacred
miro.
The venerable
marae
where the priest had once served lay just ahead.
 

"We must watch," the priest whispered, pointing to the row of thatched houses at the edge of sacred ground. "Attendants may be awake. I am sure they heard the fight, but most of them are probably cowering on their mats."

Tepua saw no illumination in the houses. She eyed any shadows that might be men. Nothing moved.

"Good," pronounced the priest after waiting awhile. "Now I'll go to work while you stand guard." He beckoned her to follow him.
 

"Into the...
marae

He paused. "I will show you where to wait." A small storehouse stood nearby. He went inside and emerged wearing a priestly loincloth of bleached
tapa
that gleamed faintly when moonlight struck it. Carrying a digging stick, he went to the wall of the courtyard, prayed briefly, and entered.
 

Tepua could not see exactly what Eye-to-heaven was doing as he knelt, but she heard grunts and the scraping of stone against stone.
Searching for the corpse of Matopahu's brother
! What would be left of Knotted-cord now, she wondered, except a sennit-wrapped collection of bones?
 

Uneasily she moved closer, trying to glimpse what the priest was doing. She saw him leaning over something, peering into a crypt. Then he rose and she caught the look of disappointment on his face.
 

He turned to dig in another place. From somewhere behind her, Tepua heard cries and blows, men shouting challenges. Her blood pulsed as she tightened her grip on the spear.
 

The sounds of battle changed, but she was not sure if they were approaching. In the shadows beyond the
marae
she could see nothing. Glancing toward the priest, she noticed that he had moved again.
 

Then he leaped the courtyard wall and she heard his footsteps pounding. 'The corpse must be somewhere else," he called. "I'll have to search the smaller shrines." He seemed to take only a moment to change from the sacred garment to his own and rush out to pick up his weapons.
 

"You go back to the canoe," he ordered as the sounds of fighting grew louder. "Get the child to safety. The rest will be over soon."
 

"Over? Yes," she retorted. "A few men cannot last against hundreds. That is why you want me way."

"Go!" the priest insisted. "I will look after my
taio."

What can a lone priest do for him
? Tepua felt prickles of fear and then a fierce determination. She recalled the discouraged expressions of the men she had seen at the compound. They needed hope. They needed a reason to fight. And without their help, Matopahu was doomed.
 

Leaving Eye-to-heaven, she rushed off toward the canoe where Maukiri was waiting.
This is where Matopahu's son belongs
, Tepua thought.
Not in hiding. Not in exile. This is his land.

 

In the shadows, the
ari'i
could not tell how many men were chasing him. Land-crab's warriors had painted special markings on their faces and bodies, enabling them to recognize each other in the dim light. They would have little trouble now rounding up the intruders.
 

He stood perfectly still and wondered if he could find a way past them. His enemies, too, had halted, waiting for him to show himself. Glancing from one tree to the next, he saw dark figures standing erect. If there were only some way to distract them.
 

He did not know what had happened to all his companions. One had accompanied him to this grove, and was crouching not far away. If Matopahu took off in one direction and his friend in the other, that would split the enemy force....
 

A shout interrupted his planning. Suddenly fighting broke out in another part of the grove. Land-crab's men came alive, plunging toward the battle.
 

Matopahu did not know which of his comrades had touched off the commotion, but he could not leave the man to struggle alone. Whatever plans of strategy he might have evolved were gone. He broke into a run, dodging warriors that turned out to be shadows.
 

Then suddenly, the solid bodies of men stood before him. Matopahu made quick work of two. His friends were shouting encouragement to each other. Land-crab's defenders backed off.
 

Only five remained standing. Five against Matopahu's three. Yet a warning nagged at him. There were not enough down to account for the rest. Had some fled, or merely circled behind?
 

He smashed back the blows of the painted mail before him as he wondered frantically how to protect his back. He shouted a question to his friends, but they had no time to reply.
 

With a desperate parry, he knocked the club from his opponent's grip. While the man scrambled to retrieve the weapon, Matopahu turned completely around. He just had time to see what was coming. Then the night exploded and the heavens went dark.
 

 

As Tepua carried the child up the beach and through the groves of coconut palms, she wondered what had come over her. Eye-to-heaven had given her the only sensible advice—to take the infant to safety.