Adventures of Grace Quinlan and Lord William Hayden on the Isles of Polynesia (Tale of the Birdmen) Volume 4

by Freda, Paula

  The story fascinated Elizabeth and Lord Hayden. They found themselves wishing they could return to the past and personally witness it unfolding. The cult was not new to them. Books on the history of the Island spoke of the religious beliefs and conduct of the people, but to hear a first rate account as handed down from generation to generation, was exhilarating.

  The days passed quickly and satisfyingly, but with winter recess nearly over, the time had come for Lord Hayden to return to Mrs. Chola’s estate for a quick recap, and to transfer the dig to worthy successors, then back to Layton Hall and to classes. With this thought in mind, Alana prepared a special farewell dinner for her guests.

  The group was wined and dined on fish and fowl and sandalwood nuts. Ronne was first to surrender to exhaustion from overeating. He retired early. Lord Hayden, discussing his return trip with Tesk, felt dizzy. Too much of Alana’s wine, a staunch homemade brew, he surmised. Elizabeth’s eyelids drooped, and she kept missing his every third or fourth word. Perhaps it was time to retire. She nudged Lord Hayden in the ribs. The lively chatter and the heat from the crackling hearth were stifling. Lord Hayden’s throat felt dry despite the food and drink he had consumed. He knew something was wrong when she slumped against his shoulder. Her "W... il... liam" slurred as she fell forward unconscious. Catching her, his arms felt as heavy as his black leather boots, not to mention the dizziness worsening….

  Sunrays warmed his face. He blinked his eyes open slowly and found himself in bed, still dressed. The window and shutters facing him were wide open. For a while he laid there, his thoughts hazy until one thing became clear, he had blacked out.

  Lord Hayden rubbed his eyes to wipe off the remnants of sleep. "That’s the last time I drink Alana’s brew," he grumbled, easing himself up and swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. Grace was not in the room and Lord Hayden experienced a twinge of apprehension. That sixth sense that he liked to think he possessed, warned him something was amiss. During their stay on the Island, he had awakened to Grace in the room with him each morning, either on the bed or on the tweed loveseat, per their secret arrangement. He could not quell a sense of fear for the safety of the woman he loved and needed. He stood up, took a deep breath, and left the bedroom. A search of the premises and the patchy grounds outside brought him back worriedly. Alana had returned and was cooking over her antiquated stove.

  "Have you seen Grace?" Lord Hayden asked, attempting to sound casual, fighting a sense of inexplicable dread that might be merely the result of a hangover.

  "With you," Alana replied, turning, sizzling fry pan in hand. The questioning frown on Lord Hayden’s face prompted her to add, "Last night you and she fell asleep at the table. My husband and Professor Tesk carried you both into your room."

  The feeling that something was wrong persisted. "Where are the others?"

  "The Professor and Ronne went very early with Tunai to the family cave, for one final look before your departure this afternoon. They had thought to ask you and Grace, but you were both sound asleep. And after last night..."

  "Are you sure Grace didn’t go with them?" Lord Hayden asked hopefully.

  "Yes, I watched them leave in the jeep, myself."

  "Very well, I’ll go to the cave. If Grace returns, tell her to wait here." Alana nodded. Lord Hayden thought he caught a glimmer of fear in her eyes, but he was not certain. He hurried out.

  It was nearly noon when he slammed into Alana’s kitchen and confronted her.

  "What is going on? Where is she?"

  Alana’s face drained of color as she met Lord Hayden’s desperate gaze. "I spoke the truth earlier. I believed Tunai when he said they were going to the cave. He returned after you left and I made him tell me the truth. I am sorry, Lord Hayden. It is Professor Tesk’s fault." Alana sank limply into a chair. "Cursed the day Richard Tesk set foot on our Island. My husband was an honorable man until that day."

  "Alana, where have they taken her?" he pleaded. He had been searching all morning on foot. He had not shaved, and his shirt was saturated with perspiration and grime.

  She spoke softly, each word a twist of the knife her husband had metaphorically plunged into her heart. "It is time for the manu-tara, the sooty terns, to return to Motu Nui and lay their eggs. It is time for a new leader to be chosen to rule the Island."

  "Are you saying the Birdman Cult is practiced on this Island in our time?" he asked incredulously.

  "It was not, until Professor Tesk resurrected the Ceremony. The people of this Island are simple folk. We listened and believed his words. He drew us like the reeds that cover the lake of the crater nearby. Wove us like threads on a loom. Set brother against brother, then convinced us the only way to choose a governing body was through the old rites. And when the time came for the Ceremony, he set himself among the candidates with Tunai as his hopu-manu." Alana hesitated, as though the hesitation could undo her next words. "Tunai brought back the egg and Tesk was made King for the year. The two other hapu-manus did not return. Tunai told us that they had drowned. We believed him. Always he had spoken the truth and he was one of us, a simple fisherman." She hesitated again, as if her next words were even more painful than the first to utter. "My people grieved for the lost men, rejoiced for the completion of the Ceremony honoring Make-Make, and resumed their daily lives. We are mostly farmers and fishermen. Tesk’s only demand was that we allow him to enter the family caves and study the contents. He took very little; did not profane our beliefs or the relics we guarded in our caves."

  Most of the anguish Alana had been hiding, now surfaced and riddled her tone. "Then one day shortly after he was chosen, the body of one of the missing men was found floating off the southern coast of the Island. He bore a wound between his shoulder blades. We brought him to Tesk who examined him and told us that the body had probably dashed against a rock during its time in the water." Alana’s ample features contorted angrily. "My people are simple folk, but we are not stupid, nor fools. We are a people of the earth and the sea. We make our living with our hands and the skills handed down from generation to generation. The dead man’s wound went clear through to his heart. It was even and not jagged as a rock might cause. The hopu-manu had been murdered. Those of us who had not succumbed to Tesk’s trickery, rebelled. We confronted him with our accusations, but he merely shrugged our words away. When some of our younger men tried to depose him, the armed mercenaries he had gathered around him, protected him, slaying without mercy. What few were left had no choice but to retreat."

  "Why did they take Grace?" Lord Hayden asked nonplussed and apprehensive.

  Alana replied, "When the hopu-manu has brought back the egg and given it to his new king, the Ceremony becomes a feast during which human sacrifices are offered to Make-Make, to insure that our land and our women will be fertile." Bitterly Alana added, "Tesk controls the priests, and the priests hold my people in servitude. Anyone who tries to defy Tesk’s rule is a prime candidate for the human sacrifice. Tunai and I are no exceptions, despite the fact that among my people I am considered the most learned. As a child I lived and was educated in Hawaii, like my husband. It is the custom in my family that a few of our people are sent to the mainland for a better education so they can bring back to the Island what they have learned. But Tesk’s reign has crushed our spirit. Your beloved is only one of several planned sacrifices. I swear I did not know they intended taking her. Nor was it I who drugged your wine last night."

  Lord Hayden’s expression turned grim. Something sinister awoke in him. "Where did they take her?" he demanded.

  "Orongo," Alana answered, then cried, "Wait!" as Lord Hayden swung towards the door. "You cannot face them alone!"

  He paused in the doorway to turn and look at her. Alana flinched at the rage in his eyes. She warned him, nonetheless, "Our enemies are many. They will kill you. And there are only a handful who would help you. Our Officials take part in the Ceremony as well."

  With controlled fury, Lord Hayden said, "They’ve taken the woman
I love!"

  Alana bowed her head. The fire in his veins, and the persistent curiosity and doggedness of spirit that propelled him, were qualities he shared with his woman. Alana understood the pain this loss would bring him.

  Lord Hayden asked, "Is Ronne on Tesk’s team?"

  Alana shook her head. Tesk tried to persuade him this morning. Ronne was shocked. He would have warned you if they had not stopped him. He is to be sacrificed along with Grace. Hopefully she added, "There is still time. None of the offerings will be harmed until an egg is brought back from Motu Nui. There is only so much change that even Tesk with his glib persuasion and manpower can accomplish. Take my horse, Starbelle, the grey spotted one. She is tethered in the back, already saddled. In case you would need her."

  "Thank you, Alana," Hayden said, in earnest

  "Starbelle is gentle, but swift," Alana added, resigned to the inevitable chance that either Lord Hayden would be killed long before he reached Grace, or that Tunai would never return home.

  "Thank you," Lord Hayden repeated, aware of Alana’s pain.

  "Good Luck, Lord Hayden," Alana said. "May He who is known by many names and many forms protect you." She fell to her knees, and in desperation, "Sir, do not kill my husband," she beseeched.

  He did not answer her with words, but his brow knitted as his compassion vied with his determination to save the life of the woman he worshipped, even if he had to fight Tunai to the death. In the end, taking a deep breath, he pulled his hat down to fit more snugly for the long dry ride ahead of him to the Orongo Cliffs, and pushing all questions aside, turned on his heel and rushed out the door. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  From all the corners of the Island they came, men and women of their present decade transformed into their ancestors—chiefs and warriors, wearing robes rich with geometric patterns and coarse belts made from the bark of the few tired trees that still grew on the Island. With the chosen candidates, Tangata Manus, who wore headdresses of cock and tropic-bird feathers, and their attendants, the Hopu Manus; they came in a long procession up the Ao path circling the sides of Rano-Kao to the Orongo ruins, singing and dancing as they accompanied the chosen ones. In step with the ritual song, they reached the top of Orongo by nightfall.

  On the outskirts of the Orongo Village, Ronne, tied to a post, counted the stars to ward off thoughts of his impending demise. The full, radiant moon spotlighted him as if on a stage awaiting the final curtain call. It might be days, it might be weeks, but Tesk had assured him that he and Grace would be sacrificed to Make-Make as soon as Tunai procured the sacred egg.

  The islanders had resurrected the Orongo ruins, removing rubble, clearing huts built partially underground with openings only large enough to crawl through. All this work would be undone after the Ceremony had ended. Tourists and researchers would find only the ruins they expected.

  A cold wind rose from the strait below and hissed across the cliffs, slithering about Ronne and chilling his bones. The young student shuddered. No one would find his bones and Grace’s. The waters below would be their grave. He stifled a sob. Yet he must remember that as long as he had life, there was hope.

  "Ronne, don’t answer!" a voice whispered from behind some rocks nearby. It was the wind hissing, the young student thought, not daring to believe otherwise for fear that it was indeed only the wind. Nearby, a warrior holding a spear, and bare except for a loincloth and a horn carved from bone hanging at his side, stood watch, but his mind was on the singing and dancing in the village.

  "It’s me, Professor Hayden. I’ll cut you loose. Don’t make a sound," Lord Hayden cautioned. He snuck behind Ronne and cut his bindings with a knife. The guard, his gaze and hearing still occupied with the revelry in the village below, did not the see or hear the two silently move away and crouch behind a boulder. A moment later he turned and his eyes widened in alarm as he realized his prisoner was gone. His inattention might very well have cost him his own life. He unhooked the horn, ready to sound an alarm; the prisoner and his rescuer were upon him before it ever reached his lips. Unconscious, but alive, he lay peacefully and inert.

  "Where are they keeping Grace?" Lord Hayden asked Ronne.

  Remorsefully, the young man answered, "The last time I saw her she was being dragged into the village proper."

  "Then that’s where I’m going," Hayden said, undaunted. "If you want to run, now is the time."

  "Sir, it’s my fault you and your lady are here. I can’t leave you."

  "I haven’t time to argue, but thank you."

  They moved, mostly on hands and knees, into the village, ducking behind boxed wood houses and sheds. The light from several fires lit the small square. Dozens of revelers in colorful tunics surrounded a stone altar. On its surface lay a slender woman in a flowing white shift. Her hair glowed red-gold in the firelight. Four warriors in loincloths guarded the woman. "Grace," Lord Hayden sighed. She lay very still, her eyes closed.

  Ronne asked, "How can we save her. There are only two of us, and so many of them." He glanced back toward the cliff. The guard was sure to awaken shortly and sound the alarm.

  "There’s no way to save her, not now, not here," Lord Hayden said. "They won’t harm her until Tunai returns with the egg. We’ll hide in the moors and come back at dawn. By then most of the villagers should be exhausted from celebrating, and asleep. I’ll distract the remaining guards and you free Grace."

  "Are you sure we can pull this off?" Ronne asked doubtfully. Lord Hayden surveyed the bare-chested warriors, brawny young men, probably among the chosen candidates to assist the Tangata Manus by swimming the treacherous strait to the isle of Motu Nui to procure the sacred egg.

  "Assuredly not," replied a voice behind them. Lord Hayden and Ronne whirled about and came face to face with a squatting Tesk. Lord Hayden jumped to his feet. Immediately half a dozen guards leapt from the shadows and aimed their spears at his heart.

  "Hold!" Tesk commanded, rising. We need sacrifices for the end of the Ceremony. These two in place of the two villagers chosen." The guards lowered their spears; relief showed on some faces. Lord Hayden surmised that the two villagers Tesk had mentioned were loved ones. "Take them," Tesk ordered.

  A guard behind Lord Hayden shoved him forward. Lord Hayden’s foot twisted and he would have fallen, but the guard next to him steadied him. Something about the way the man grabbed his arm—not harshly, but benignly— made him peer at the guard who winked at him, whispering, "Wait."

  Lord Hayden camouflaged his nod with a cough and a "Be quiet, Ronne." as his student protested and rebuked the soldiers dragging them away from the square. At the entrance to a hut built partially underground they were pushed to their knees and prodded through a crawl space.

  They found themselves alone on a dirt floor. Outside, the bare legs of at least three guards were visible through the low entrance. Lord Hayden tried to stand, but the hut was too short. He sat down beside his student. Ronne spouted miserably, "They intend to kill us and you tell me to be quiet."

  "I believe someone is going to help us."

  Ronne eyed him flummoxed and not at all reassured. Hayden leaned against a wall. "Get some rest; don’t use up any more energy. You’ll need it later." He pulled his hat forward and closed his eyes.

  Ronne debated quietly how his teacher could sleep under such circumstances. Then reasoning that what else could he do for the present, he folded his arms and leaned back, himself. The drone of revelry and the smell of sparking firewood outside lulled him into a state of semi-sleep, so that he did not hear two men creep into the hut until one of them shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes wide and saw a white-robed figure bending over him. Ronne shrieked, and Lord Hayden jackknifed and banged his head against the low ceiling. Rubbing his bruised scalp, he took stock of the two visitors. Not as tall as he, they were able to stand fully erect. He recognized the man in the white garments as one of the priests he had seen while being dragged through the village. The other
man was the guard who had steadied his fall and whispered for him to "wait." When no one seemed ready to break the silence. Lord Hayden took the initiative. "Well, what can we do for you gentlemen?"

  "You can save our people," the priest answered.

  He had not expected a direct reply, especially not the one given. He started to ask for an explanation, but mid breath he remembered Alana’s words that there were only a handful on the Island who would help him. Perhaps these two were part of that handful. "What can we do to help you?" Lord Hayden asked in earnest.

  The priest and the warrior exchanged hopeful glances. "Please sit down. We will explain."

  The priest spoke of the cult and the Ceremony. Lord Hayden and Ronne listened attentively. Finally, the Holy Man addressed Ronne bluntly. "We wish you to be our candidate for the Tangata Manu, and your teacher to be your Hopu Manu, to bring back the first egg and rid us of Richard Tesk and his influence on our people."

  Lord William Hayden had already made up his mind, but on one condition, "I can’t speak for my friend here, but for myself I am willing to assist you. The woman on the altar is my soul mate. We get her off the Island first. I will remain to help you."

  The priest looked down at his feet, as if he would rather not have to reply. Then gathering his courage he said, "I cannot interfere with the Ceremony. Those against Tesk are only a few. If I tried to stop the sacrifice to Make-Make, Tesk and his followers would sacrifice us as well as our families. The only guarantee I can offer is that the woman will not be harmed until the Hopu Manu returns with the egg. If you return and Ronne is declared Tangata Manu for the year, then he can stop the sacrifice, perhaps all of the human sacrifices, with your help. It is up to you to procure the egg and save your woman’s life."