by Lance Morcan
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
Heavy 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.
2
As night approached, Joeli’s trackers reached the stream at the same point their quarry had entered it earlier. The two trackers were scouting around searching in vain for tracks when the others caught up.
Nathan charged impatiently into the stream, anxious to keep going. He pulled up when he realized no one was following. Turning around, he saw Joeli conferring with the trackers. The ratu motioned to his warriors, indicating it was too dark to continue. They began preparing a campsite. Resigned to having to wait till morning to resume the search for Susannah, Nathan joined them.
Scouting around upstream, Waisale found a cave in the bank. The others agreed it would be a good place to overnight. They welcomed the shelter it would afford from the relentless rain.
Inside the cave, a fire was quickly lit. Everyone sat around it, drying out and eating some of their rations. The one-eyed Babitu spotted a large iguana, or native lizard, sitting motionless on a nearby rock. He stabbed it with his hunting knife, skewered it onto the end of a stick, and began barbecuing it over the fire. Once cooked, he sliced it into small pieces and shared it with his companions. Only Nathan abstained. He couldn’t bring himself to eat it. Besides, he wasn’t hungry.
The American sat apart from the others, his chin resting on his folded arms. Around him, some of the others talked in hushed tones while others went to sleep. In the firelight, the men’s shadows danced on the rock walls and water glistened on the surface of the rocks. Soon, the crackle of the flames and the soft tinkle of the nearby stream were all that disturbed the silence.
Lost in thought, a bone-weary Nathan stared into the fire. He wondered how Susannah was faring at that very moment.
Are you still alive? Is he mistreating you?
Nathan became distressed just thinking about her. What if I never find her? he asked himself. He vowed he’d make the Outcast pay for what he’d done. Finally, he gave in to his weariness and lapsed into a deep sleep.
#
Further inland, Susannah and her abductor were also sheltering in a cave. Rambuka had chosen a small cave whose entrance was hidden behind dense vegetation and was effectively invisible to anyone who didn’t know of its existence.
Susannah instinctively knew the fierce Outcast had used the cave previously. He seemed to know the land so well, and was so sure of himself, she seriously doubted she’d ever escape him or know freedom again.
For now though, Susannah’s only concern was surviving the night with her virginity still intact. As sh
e sat with her back against the far wall of the cave, she avoided making eye contact with Rambuka, who, at that moment, was sitting staring at her.
Against the cave wall, Rambuka was just a shadowy outline. In the darkness, only the whites of his eyes and, occasionally, his teeth could be seen.
Susannah closed her eyes and prayed to God. While she prayed, though, she sensed it was already a foregone conclusion. Rape to an animal like Rambuka is nothing, she thought. He has probably raped hundreds of innocent women.
The frightened young woman’s concerns escalated when Rambuka suddenly stood up and walked over to her. Certain that she was about to be ravaged, she froze; her head felt numb and she realized, for the first time in her life, the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end.
Oh my God, this is it!
Susannah wanted to flee, but she was too afraid even to move. All she could do was close her eyes.
To her surprise, Rambuka wrapped a wide strip of flax around her mouth, effectively gagging her, then he produced a length of vine which he used to tie her hands behind her back. He tied the other end of the vine to the branch of a tree that extended through the cave’s opening, thereby preventing her from escaping.
What’s he doing?
Susannah was even more fearful she was about to be raped, but wondered at the significance of being gagged. She guessed there was no one else within miles of them, and even if there were, they wouldn’t hear her screams above the sound of the rain that was still beating down outside.
A few moments were all Rambuka needed to secure Susannah. Then, without a word, he scrambled out of the cave.
Alone, in the solitude of the cave, it slowly dawned on Susannah her abductor had left her to die. Rather than kill her outright, he’d elected to let her die slowly. The gag, she was convinced, was to ensure no one would hear her cries for help if they did happen to pass by close to the cave entrance.
