The World Duology (World Odyssey / Fiji: A Novel) (44 page)

18

B
eneath a full moon, a large crowd had gathered on the riverbank near the village to watch the interrogation of the wounded outcast. The captive was lying on his back, his hands tied behind him; what was left of his nose was covered in congealed blood, a legacy of the damage Nathan’s Bowie knife had inflicted earlier that evening.

To the wild beating of drums, warriors performed a cibi, or war dance, to demonstrate their superiority over their captive. With clubs and spears raised high, they danced aggressively only inches away from him. He looked up at them fearlessly and laughed openly at their efforts. This incensed one warrior, who kicked him in the face, dazing him and drawing more blood. Another warrior urinated over him.

The drumming softened and the warriors were pushed aside by a dozen near-naked maidens who performed a wate, or dance, aimed at sexually humiliating their captive. To the cheers of the onlookers, the nubile maidens left nothing to the imagination as they simulated intercourse and performed other crude gestures in front of and over their captive. This age-old insult was too much even for him, and he closed his eyes to try to escape this ultimate disgrace.

The drumming ceased as Joeli arrived. He was accompanied by Nathan and Waisale. As one, the dancers and other villagers prostrated themselves before their ratu. Joeli nodded to his warriors, indicating the interrogation of the captive should begin.

A warrior tied a rope around the outcast’s ankles and threw the other end of the rope over a branch that extended out over the river. Two husky men then retrieved the dangling rope end and began pulling on it. The captive was pulled feet-first and ended up hanging headfirst just above the water while the men supported his weight. The villagers cheered at his predicament.

Addressing the captive, Joeli asked, “Where is Rambuka’s hideout?”

The captive spat in Joeli’s direction. “Eat shit, you dog!”

Joeli nodded toward the two husky men, who immediately paid off the rope, lowering the captive into the river until his head and torso were submerged. Holding his breath, the captive thrashed about under water trying to free
himself.

Nathan looked on impassively. His fingers strayed to the whale bone pendant he wore. His thoughts were with Susannah; concern for her consumed him. The present seemed like a living nightmare—more surreal than ever.

One who was taking more interest than most in the drama being played out was Selaima. The slave girl knew it was because of the curse she’d placed on Susannah that this was happening. Although she was delighted the Englishwoman had been taken from Nathan, she was afraid the captive would reveal the whereabouts of the outcasts’ hideout.

This was something she hadn’t foreseen and she wondered, momentarily, if the
gift
had let her down.

The captive’s movements were becoming more desperate as he was starved of air. Joeli nodded and the men lifted the outcast out of the water. The ratu gave the captive a few moments to regain his breath then, once more, asked, “Where is your hideout?”

The captive shouted, “I will die before I tell you that, you miserable—”

Before he could finish the insult, the husky men lowered him into the water a second time. Again, he thrashed about. Joeli waited longer this time before motioning to his men to lift him up.

The captive emerged coughing and spluttering. This time, he was ready to talk. “Our hideout is at Tomanivi,” he spluttered, “three days’ march inland. Please! Don’t let me drown!”

“Where exactly?”
Joeli asked.

Looking on, Selaima willed the captive to remain silent.

“In the valley that runs north to south on this side of the mountain,” the captive gasped.

Selaima’s heart dropped. All she could hope for now was that Nathan wasn’t so committed to the Englishwoman that he’d join the expedition that would most assuredly be mounted to rescue her. If he remained in the village, that’s when she’d work her magic on him.

Satisfied, Joeli walked off. Nathan and Waisale followed. As they departed, Joeli briefly raised one hand. At this signal, his men lowered the captive into the river again, this time leaving him to drown.

Wanting confirmation the captive had revealed the whereabouts of Rambuka’s
hideout, Nathan hurried to Joeli’s side. “Did he tell you what you needed to know?” he asked anxiously.

Joeli nodded briefly and kept walking. Neither he nor his two companions spared a second thought for the drowning outcast behind them. Joeli could only think of recovering the sacred golden tabua Rambuka had stolen from the village, while Nathan and Waisale could only think of rescuing the women Rambuka had taken from them.

The young ratu looked up as the moon disappeared behind clouds. “The wet season will arrive tomorrow.” He spoke English for Nathan’s benefit.

Nathan wasn’t listening. He just wanted the night to end and the chase to begin.

Watching the three men from afar, Selaima was in no doubt that Joeli would go after Rambuka. She knew how much the golden tabua meant to him. What she didn’t know was whether Nathan would accompany Joeli. She prayed to the spirits that he wouldn’t for she knew that to venture into the outcasts’ territory was to invite death.

In the village, Joeli paused outside his bure and turned to Nathan. He placed one hand
on the American’s shoulder. “We leave for Tomanivi early.”

Nathan nodded and without a word walked on to his own bure. Inside it, he cleaned his musket and rammed food, spare clothing, and ammunition into a backpack in preparation for the early morning departure. Finally, he lay down and tried to sleep.

Sleep refused to come. Instead, a million thoughts coursed through his mind. A picture of Susannah being raped by Rambuka and his followers kept coming to him.

Nathan gave up trying to sleep. Instead, he lay there, on his back staring up at his bure’s thatched roof and thinking of the events that had brought him to this point in his life. It seemed like he’d been in Fiji for years, not weeks. He felt very little connectivity between the self-centered man he was when he arrived and the man he was now. And, he knew, that change was due entirely to Susannah. From the moment he’d first seen her, he’d been unable to think of anything or anyone else. She’d drawn out his real self from deep inside him—a side he never knew existed. Because of her, he felt more alive than ever before.

Before Susannah, all he’d cared about was attaining more wealth or buying more land so he could mingle in higher social circles. Material things suddenly seemed unimportant. All that mattered to him now was Susannah. Without her, life would be meaningless and empty.

For the first time ever, Nathan realized he cared for someone more than he cared for himself. He’d known that the instant Susannah was abducted. She was his whole world now.

Nathan knew he would do whatever it took, whatever the sacrifice, to rescue her—even if it meant giving his own life. He only hoped he could reach her before she was harmed.

# 

While Nathan was trying in vain to get to sleep, Susannah was having the same problem. Exhausted after her abduction earlier that night, she was now lying beneath a makeshift bivouac of branches and leaves that Rambuka had hastily assembled, trying to get to sleep.

The Outcast lay nearby, sleeping soundly despite the cold and the light rain that was now causing water to drip down onto him and his captive. Both were covered in scratches—a result of their headlong flight through the dense jungle earlier. A vine now linked them. Before going to sleep, Rambuka had tied one end of the vine to Susannah’s wrist and the other end to his. It was now stretched
tight, ensuring any movement by his captive would wake him.

After snatching Susannah from the mission station, Rambuka had dragged her a good six miles inland before stopping for the night. He knew the best trackers in the world couldn’t follow his tracks in the dark, but had decided to put as much distance as he could between himself and his former tribesmen before stopping.

Rambuka knew Joeli and his warriors would be on his trail at first light. Quite apart from rescuing the Englishwoman, he knew his half-brother would want to recover the golden tabua he and his followers had taken from the village.

What Rambuka didn’t know was whether his companions had survived the fight at the mission station. He was pretty sure one of them had been killed, but wasn’t sure about the other. If one had survived, Rambuka knew Joeli would already know where his Tomanivi hideout was.

Right now, though, he had more pressing matters to attend to—such as reaching his hideout before his enemies overtook him. Normally, that wouldn’t have been a problem, but having to drag a woman along with him complicated things somewhat.

Rather than be captured, Rambuka promised himself he’d kill the woman and flee on his own.

Lying close to her captor, Susannah was in shock. She had been ever since she’d seen her father choking to death with a spear through his neck. Even now, despite her predicament, she could think only of her father. The vision of his gruesome death filled her mind and try as she may, she couldn’t dispel it.

Finally, Nathan forced his way into her mind. The realization struck her that she wanted to experience what it was like to make love and marry and have children. It struck her like a thunderbolt. And she knew she wanted all that with Nathan. Lying beside Rambuka, those dreams seemed so remote now.

Susannah wondered if Nathan would come looking for her. She was now in no doubt he lusted after her, as she did him, but was not at all sure he cared deeply enough for her to risk his life.

She wondered, too, whether her dear papa’s assessment of Nathan was correct. The words
self-centered
and
ungodly
still rang in her ears.

When she weighed it all up, Susannah knew the only one she could rely on was God. With that, she immediately prayed that this nightmare would end.

Please, God, hear my prayers!

Part Two

THE LAND OF RED RAIN

1

H
eavy rain on the thatched roof of Nathan’s bure announced the arrival of the wet season in Viti Levu’s western regions. It also woke Nathan from a fitful sleep. He’d been awake most of the night, thinking about Susannah. Every time he’d dozed off, terrifying images of the young woman being abused by Rambuka had forced themselves into his mind, waking him.

Still half asleep, Nathan was momentarily disorientated. Looking through his bure’s open doorway, through the sheets of rain, he could see it was not yet dawn. Yet people were already moving about.

Rousing himself, he jumped up from his bed mat and quickly dressed. Then, slipping his pre-packed backpack over his shoulders, he tucked his pistol into his belt, grabbed his musket, and hurried outside.

Nathan fell in beside a handful of warriors who were making their way to the village outskirts where others had already assembled. Joeli was preparing to address them. In total, Nathan counted twenty men. Sadly, they represented virtually all that remained of the village’s ablebodied warriors. Waisale and the one-eyed Babitu were among them. All had muskets except for Joeli, who carried his preferred tomahawk and whale bone club. Many carried traditional weapons as well.

Everyone ignored the rain, which was still pelting down.

Studying Joeli and the other warriors, Nathan immediately noticed a major difference from the last time he’d seen them: gone were the extravagant hairstyles. Overnight, the warriors had washed the dye out of their hair and cut their frizzy locks back to more manageable proportions. Nathan guessed this had been prompted by the need to be able to blend in with the terrain and vegetation in the days ahead.
After all,
he mused,
bright yellow or shocking pink hair would stand out like dog’s balls in the greenery of a rainforest
. Nathan looked at Joeli and Waisale as if seeing them for the first time.

When Joeli was satisfied everyone had arrived, he announced, “We know where our enemies hide.” Speaking in his native tongue, he had to shout to make himself heard above the driving rain. “The Outcast has our golden tabua and now he has two of our women,” he said, referring to Susannah and Waisale’s betrothed, Sina. Holding his huge club above his head, he shouted, “We will take back what is ours and send our enemies to the Underworld where they belong.”

With that, the other warriors raised their muskets and broke out into a war chant.

Watching them, Nathan could only guess what Joeli had said to stir them up so. The American was becoming impatient. He wanted to start moving. To his way of thinking, this was not the time to stand around talking.

Joeli knew differently. He realized he was quite possibly about to lead his remaining warriors to their deaths, so it was important to remind them what they were about to put their lives on the line for.

Before they set off, villagers appeared out of the rain and began bestowing their best wishes on friends and loved ones. Selaima was among them, though she hung back, anxious not to attract attention.

The slave girl scanned the faces of the men who were with Joeli. Her heart sank when she saw Nathan. The sight of his musket and backpack immediately told her he was planning to accompany the others.

While Selaima was observing Nathan, she was unaware she herself was being observed. Inoki, the elderly healer who had helped nurse Nathan back to health, was watching her from afar. He’d suspected for some time she was up to no good, but he had no proof. So, rather than report his concerns, he’d decided to keep an eye on her.

Some of the villagers had misgivings about what Joeli and the others in his pathetically small raiding party were planning. Among them was Kamisese, the respected toreni koro, or village headman. He challenged Joeli, saying, “You could be walking into Rambuka’s trap like a fish swimming into a net.”

“I have considered that,” Joeli shot back.

“It is dangerous for you to take all our fighting men with you. Rambuka’s outcasts could be waiting to attack the village as soon as you have gone.”

By now, the other villagers had fallen silent. They sensed there was truth in what the headman was saying.

“That is a risk I must take,” Joeli countered. “As long as Rambuka is free to come and go as he likes, and steal from us, we lose respect. The dog must be punished. We are growing weaker by the day and Rambuka is growing stronger. It is now or never.” He added, “You forget old man, Rambuka has the golden tabua. I must recover it and return it to its rightful place, here.”

Acknowledging the wisdom in Joeli’s words, Kamisese nodded, saying, “May the war spirits go with you then.”

Joeli turned and led his warriors inland at a fast trot. Nathan followed, bringing up the rear. Behind them, the villagers offered up chants to the gods of war.

The villagers continued chanting until long after the departing warriors had been swallowed up by the rainforest. Then, singly or in pairs, they trudged back to the village.

Selaima remained behind, staring in the direction she knew the warriors were heading. She was feeling desolate. While her curse had effectively removed Susannah from Nathan’s reach, it hadn’t prevented the American from leaving to look for her. She decided it was time to call on the
gift
once more and conjure up another curse.

The slave girl entered the rainforest and quickly made her way to the same cave she
usually went to when she needed privacy. So focused was she on what she was about to do, she didn’t notice she was being followed.

Inoki had decided to follow Selaima as soon as she had struck off into the forest on her own. He was becoming more convinced she was up to no good. Now he was having trouble keeping up with the young woman. Battling the driving rain, and slipping and sliding in the mud underfoot, he had to force his old legs to move as fast as they could to keep up.

Peering through the rain, Inoki suddenly realized he could no longer see the slave girl. He wasn’t to know she’d entered the cave via the concealed entrance only she knew about. The opening was so narrow, he missed it and walked on by. After a fruitless search, he gave up and headed back to the village.

Meanwhile, in the same cavern she’d used to cast a spell on Susannah previously, Selaima prepared to weave her magic once more. This time, she used different methods, shunning the need for a fire. Reaching into the small flax bag she carried, she withdrew a potent mix of herbs which she placed in her mouth and swallowed. Then she stripped naked and began dancing. Chanting while dancing in an ever-widening circle, she fell into a trance almost immediately.

Calling to the spirits, she chanted, “Bring Nathan Johnson home safely to me.” Selaima repeated this over and over until all the words ran into one. It didn’t occur to her to place another curse on Susannah because she considered the Englishwoman dead already. She believed Susannah would never be seen again.

Finally, Selaima became delirious and collapsed onto the rock floor.

# 

Several miles to the east, the fleet-footed Qopa warriors were still maintaining a fast pace after two hours of steady running. They were following two wiry trackers who tirelessly criss-crossed the terrain ahead, looking for some sign of the Outcast and his hostage.

Behind them, slipping and sliding in the mud, Nathan was struggling to keep up. He couldn’t believe how much fitness he’d lost. There was a time, not so long ago, when he could have maintained this pace all day and hardly raised a sweat. At the moment, his chest wound was hurting and he was already regretting his decision to carry a backpack. He noted his companions traveled light, carrying emergency rations in pouches that hung from their waists.

As he ran, Nathan’s life flashed across his mind. It suddenly dawned on him that, until now, he’d never done anything worthwhile before. Certainly, he’d achieved much in terms of wealth, conquest, and landownership, but nothing that warmed his heart or that could remotely be considered noble. If honest with himself, he knew he’d lived a superficial existence that was dominated by the desire to
prove
to others that he was a man rather than simply
living
like a man. He knew now that Drake Senior had recognized that in him; it was no wonder he’d tried to come between him and Susannah.

You saw right through me, didn’t you, Reverend?

Susannah was the one individual in his life he’d ever felt any true love for. As he thought of her, his imagination took on a life of its own. In his mind’s eye he saw Rambuka’s outcasts raping her repeatedly then feeding her broken body to the dogs.

Banishing the ghastly images from his mind, Nathan pushed himself harder to keep up with the Qopa warriors. Despite his best efforts, the thought that he may never be able to tell Susannah how he really felt about her wouldn’t go away.

# 

By the time the Qopa raiding party reached the Nausori Highlands, the pace had begun to slow. The men suddenly emerged from the jungle onto the crest of a hill. To the east, the highlands continued all the way to a horizon that was hidden behind rain clouds.

The warriors knew Tomanivi lay in that direction. For most, this would be their first visit to the sacred mountain.

Surveying the highlands, Nathan noticed the rainforest was disrupted by pockets of stately Fijian kauri trees. A few miles distant, the vegetation almost completely gave way to entire forests of kauri. He studied them intently, knowing full well they concealed the whereabouts of Susannah and her abductor.

The men pressed on. They nibbled at their rations as they ran beneath a canopy of towering kauri, slowing only to ford streams which were rapidly turning into rivers as the driving rain continued unabated. Not wanting to advertise their presence to the locals, they avoided villages along the way.

# 

At the same time, eight miles further east, Rambuka was making good time even though he was being slowed by Susannah. An early predawn start combined with the Outcast’s superior knowledge of the highlands had enabled them to put an extra couple of miles on their pursuers. The rain was helping him, too, by washing away their tracks.

Rambuka was feeling confident he could reach his hideout before his pursuers caught up with him. The Outcast knew without a shadow of a doubt his half-brother was coming for him. He didn’t need to see Joeli or his warriors to know that. They wanted what he had: their golden tabua and their women. He wondered whether the young white man was with them.

Beside him, Susannah was nearly out on her feet. Bruised, wet, tired, and hungry, she offered no resistance as Rambuka pulled her along after him. Her once-white cotton dress now hung from her in tatters. Like her, it was torn and covered in mud.

Susannah was living a nightmare. The shock of recent events had been replaced by a weary numbness. She felt like she was in someone else’s body, being pulled along by some inexorable force. Exhaustion and weariness were taking over from the fear that had gripped her earlier.

While the memory of her father’s death was still vivid in her mind, she was now more concerned about her own survival.
Papa is dead,
she reminded herself as Rambuka pulled her into a shallow mountain stream.

Papa would want me to fight to stay alive.

For the first time since her abduction, Susannah’s thoughts turned to escape. Logic told her she couldn’t escape from Rambuka. Not in her present state.
But I can slow him down.
She immediately began scheming.

Wading upstream in knee-deep water, she suddenly pretended to trip, falling headfirst into the stream. In a flash, her captor hauled her to her feet and grabbed her by the throat. He squeezed until she couldn’t breathe. As she was starved of oxygen, she could feel herself losing consciousness. Finally, Rambuka released his vice-like grip.
Susannah collapsed, gasping, and was only prevented from falling into the water again by her captor’s strong arm.

Pulling her close to him, Rambuka threatened, “Next time I kill you.” With that, he resumed wading upstream, pulling Susannah after him.

More despondent than ever, Susannah knew her abductor meant what he said. He’d kill her rather than risk being slowed down any more than he had been.

Thinking things through, she realized Rambuka was pushing hard because he believed they were being pursued. This gave her renewed hope. She wondered who exactly was coming after them and prayed that Nathan was with them.

More than anything else in the world, she wanted to see the American again.