The World Duology (World Odyssey / Fiji: A Novel) (43 page)

What to do?

The answer came to him in a flash of intuition. Turning to Nathan, he said, “Mr. Johnson, perhaps you would like to join us for supper tomorrow evening?”

Nathan couldn’t believe his ears. Neither could Susannah. Nathan stammered, “Well, I—”

“Good,” Drake Senior said quickly. “That’s settled then.” The reverend then marched off, pulling Susannah with him.

Susannah looked back at Nathan. Her expression told him she was as mystified as he was as to why her father had invited him to supper. Needless to say, Nathan was secretly delighted—and so was Susannah.

Walking toward the mission station, Drake Senior prayed he’d done the right thing. Reviewing his rationale, he believed if Susannah spent long enough in the company of the American, talking to him and hearing his selfish viewpoints on life, she’d come to realize he was the egotistical, ungodly, unholy bastard the good reverend knew him to be.
Familiarity breeds contempt,
he reminded himself.

17

T
he following morning, villagers assembled on the beach to farewell their good friends, the Mamanucans, who at that moment were readying their drua for the return voyage to their island. Hosts and guests alike were highly satisfied with the outcome of the visit: the trading had been successful, old friendships had been strengthened, and new liaisons forged.

As the drua sailed away from the shore, the Mamanucans’ ratu, Lemeki, looked directly at Joeli, who was standing in the shallows. The two nodded gravely to each other. Despite their competitiveness, the respect each had for the other was obvious to all.

Nathan watched from the village as the Mamanucans sailed out of the bay, then turned his attention back to the village. He was hoping to see Susannah, but was disappointed to find she’d returned to the mission station. Nathan knew he’d be on tenterhooks until he saw her that night at the supper engagement her father had invited him to. He was looking forward to that, even if he wasn’t sure what Drake Senior was up to.

#
               

Later, as he wandered along the village outskirts, Nathan noticed Joeli approaching, or, more correctly, he saw his high, bright yellow hair approaching. “Bula,” he called out.

“Bula, Nathan Johnson,” Joeli responded. “You look well today, my brother.” The ratu stopped before Nathan. “Tomorrow, we collect trepang to complete our trade.”

Nathan smiled at the thought of taking delivery of his precious sea slugs. “How long do you expect that to take?”

“Few days. You have them before ship return,” he said, referring to the
Rendezvous
’s scheduled return.

The boom of a musket being discharged behind the village caused Nathan to jump. Joeli smiled as two more shots rang out. “My warriors practice killing.” He motioned to
Nathan. “Come.”

Nathan followed Joeli to a valley behind the mission station. There, they found all the village’s able-bodied warriors assembled. Waisale was among them. As always, his pink hair set him apart from the others. The Qopa were practicing priming, firing, and reloading the muskets Nathan had supplied. Their technique had improved little since they’d fought off Rambuka’s outcasts. Muskets were going off in all directions, and the valley was already a haze of gunsmoke. No thought was being given to safety.

A warrior dropped to the ground when he saw a musket being aimed at his belly at point-blank range. Its owner was trying to load it, not aware it was already loaded. The musket suddenly discharged, its shot flying just over the head of the warrior who was now lying face-down in the dirt. The lucky warrior immediately jumped up and berated the man who had nearly killed him.

Joeli looked on with misplaced pride as he watched his warriors practice. Turning to Nathan, he was bemused to find the young American was rocking with laughter. Joeli scowled.

Realizing he risked offending Joeli, Nathan assumed a serious expression. “Their technique is wrong,” he said seriously. “They’re more likely to kill each other than their enemies if they keep doing what they’re doing.”

Joeli looked aggrieved. “You teach?”

Without another word, Nathan walked down and joined the warriors. He proceeded to show them how to use their new weapons correctly. Joeli looked on, impressed.

Also looking on, unobserved, was Drake Senior. He was far from impressed at the sight of Nathan teaching members of his flock how to use the white man’s weapon of death.

# 

As night approached at Momi Bay, Nathan left the village and walked toward the
mission station. In his white muslin shirt, fashionable cotton breeches, and dress boots—the same outfit he’d worn to the dance in Levuka several weeks earlier—he looked every inch the debonair gentleman, albeit somewhat nervous. He self-consciously rearranged a bunch of flowers he was holding as he walked.

Behind him, the sky was turning a dramatic orange and pink as the sun set. Still the long-awaited wet season hadn’t arrived at Momi Bay.
Any day now,
the villagers had promised.

A hundred yards ahead, Nathan could see Drake Senior chopping firewood outside the newly rebuilt mission house. A lantern burning inside the house cast a warm glow in the fading light.

Fifty yards from the mission house, Nathan saw Susannah appear in the open doorway. She was framed by the light behind her. Even from a distance, with her hair up and dressed as she was in a white cotton dress, she looked especially beautiful. She smiled and waved when she saw Nathan then retreated back inside to attend to the meal she’d been preparing. Her father continued chopping wood.

In the gloom, Nathan suddenly stumbled when he caught his foot on something concealed in the long grass. He saw immediately it was the body of one of the village lookouts. The lookout lay on his back, a tomahawk protruding from his skull. His sightless eyes stared up, almost accusingly, at the startled young American.

Nathan dropped his flowers and pulled his pistol from his belt. He remained crouched down and looked around for the other lookouts who always patrolled the area between the mission station and the village at dusk.

Holy shit!

There was no sign of them. Nathan cursed himself for not noticing this earlier. He started running toward the mission station, shouting as he ran. “Reverend Drake! Susannah!”

Drake Senior looked up. At the same time, Susannah stepped outside to see what the commotion was about. Behind them, a sudden movement caught Nathan’s eye. He saw the Outcast, Rambuka, looming up out of the shadows, knife in hand. Rambuka was flanked by two of his followers. None of them had muskets, only traditional weapons. Whatever it was they were planning to do, it was obvious to Nathan they planned to do it in silence.

The Drakes saw the danger too late. Susannah screamed as Drake Senior raised his axe to meet the sudden threat.

The nearest outcast, a tall, rangy man with a heavily tattooed face, threw his spear at the missionary. The weapon tore through Drake Senior’s throat, its serrated point protruding out the back of his neck.

Susannah opened her mouth to scream again, but any sound was stifled by Rambuka, who clamped one hand over her mouth. She could only watch, horrified, as her father fought to draw a breath.

Choking, Drake Senior slowly toppled forward, gasping for air. Down on hands and knees, he died like that.

“No!” Nathan shouted. He couldn’t believe what was happening. It seemed surreal—as if everything were occurring in slow motion.

In the rapidly fading light, Susannah struggled futilely in Rambuka’s steel grip as the Outcast dragged her toward the nearby trees. Nathan sprinted toward them, determined to get to Susannah before the jungle and the darkness swallowed her up.

Noting his intentions, the other two outcasts moved to intercept him. Nathan aimed his pistol and fired, killing the nearest attacker, a big man with a missing ear. The tattooed outcast charged Nathan, club in hand. The two met head on. The outcast aimed his club for Nathan’s head. With no time to reload his pistol, Nathan drew his Bowie knife and slashed the man’s nose, almost cutting it off. The wounded outcast dropped his club and put both hands to his face, trying to stem the flow of blood. Using the butt of the pistol he was still holding in his other hand, Nathan savagely clubbed the outcast twice over the head, knocking him unconscious.

Looking around, he could see Rambuka had almost reached the cover of the trees twenty yards or so ahead. Nathan desperately tried to reload his pistol as he sprinted to save Susannah. Knowing he was running out of time, he aimed the unloaded weapon at Rambuka, shouting, “Stop!”

Believing the pistol was loaded, the Outcast pulled up, removed his hand from Susannah’s mouth, and held the blade of his knife to her throat, making sure he kept his hostage between himself and Nathan.

Terrified, Susannah cried, “Nathan!”

Nathan knew he somehow had to delay Rambuka until reinforcements arrived. Behind him, he could hear villagers coming to investigate, alerted by the pistol shot. Rambuka was also aware of the threat. He began backing up toward the trees, keeping his knife at Susannah’s throat. Nathan followed, pistol raised in the firing position.

As she was being dragged along, Susannah spoke to Rambuka in his native tongue. “Please,” she pleaded, “don’t hurt me.” Susannah instinctively knew the man accosting her was the cannibal they called the Outcast. She recalled seeing him, or someone very like him, leading the attack on the village. More to the point, she was aware of Rambuka’s reputation for abducting women.

Rambuka grinned sadistically at her then looked at Nathan. In pigeon English he warned, “Any closer White-Face, I cut her throat.”

Nathan hesitated. Rambuka motioned to him to drop the pistol. Again Nathan hesitated. Knowing he didn’t have long, Rambuka pricked Susannah’s throat with the point of his knife. The young woman gasped as the knife’s sharp tip drew a drop of blood.

Momentarily beaten, Nathan let his pistol fall to the ground.

Rambuka sneered, “She mine now, White-Face.” The Outcast gave another sadistic smile and then dragged Susannah into the rainforest.

Susannah screamed, “Nathan! Help me!”

Nathan retrieved his pistol and chased after the pair. In the dark, he could hear them crashing through the undergrowth. Nathan tried to follow the sounds, but became disoriented as he charged blindly to left and right. The sounds of his quarry gradually faded. He looked around, desperate, but it was now too dark to see any tracks. Nathan shouted. “Susannah!” It was a long, despairing cry. He turned and ran back to recruit the assistance of the villagers.

Emerging from the rainforest, Nathan was relieved to see Joeli, Waisale, and a dozen other warriors running toward him. All except the young ratu carried muskets. Nathan shouted to them, “Hurry!”

Joeli saw the two outcasts and Drake Senior lying nearby as he ran up to Nathan. He asked, “What happen?”

“It was Rambuka,” Nathan said breathlessly. “He took Susannah.”

“How many?”

“I only saw Rambuka,” Nathan said, “and these two.” He motioned to the two outcasts on the ground. The tattooed outcast was starting to come round. The man’s face was a bloody mess as a result of the knife wound he’d suffered. Nathan pointed to him, saying, “That one’s still alive.”

Joeli nodded to two warriors. They immediately grabbed the wounded outcast by the ankles and began dragging him back toward the village while Joeli translated what Nathan had told him for the benefit of the other warriors.

When Waisale heard what had happened, his heart went out to Nathan. Having lost his beloved Sina in near-identical circumstances, he knew what the American was going through at that very moment.

At a nod from Joeli, Nathan led them at a fast trot into the rainforest. The American ran as fast as the darkness and heavy undergrowth would allow. Joeli ran at his shoulder. Behind them, the other warriors fanned out, covering a wider area.

It soon dawned on Nathan he was running blind. He wasn’t sure Susannah and her abductor had come this way. Truth be known, at that moment he didn’t even know where north was. The deeper they plunged into the jungle, the more lost he became. Feelings of panic set in.
Please let me find her!
He grew more desperate, trying to find some sign of his beautiful Susannah.

Realizing Nathan was
lost, Joeli grabbed him by the arm and held him fast.

“We have to keep going!” Nathan protested.

“Too dark!” Joeli said simply. The young ratu released his grip on Nathan then put his fingers to his lips and peeled off a shrill whistle. Turning to Nathan, he added, “We search in morning.” He whistled twice more.

One by one, the other warriors materialized out of the darkness. Addressing them in Fijian, Joeli said, “We will begin the search at first light.”

“We can’t give up now!” Nathan complained. “He has Susannah.”

Joeli remained firm. Shaking his head, he said, “We search in morning.” He turned to return to the village.

“What about the outcast we captured? He’ll know where Rambuka is taking Susannah.”

For the first time, Joeli smiled. “He will be questioned.” He began retracing his steps to the village. Nathan and the others followed.

Walking behind Nathan, Waisale looked sympathetically at the American’s back. His thoughts went to his beloved Sina.

Although Susannah’s abduction was tragic for those concerned, Waisale knew the wounded outcast could lead them to Rambuka’s hideout—and to the women he’d abducted.