by Sarah Lark
Vera’s eyes went wide with indignation. “The old hag almost scared me to death,” she spat. “She shouldn’t be here. Chase her away, Fitz. Now!”
Linda and Fitz walked slowly down the hill. Linda was startled to see the priestess standing with her back straight, not facing the tree, but leaning against it, ready to protect it. She clutched her sacred staff in her hand like a weapon, and her other hand held a war club. Omaka’s eyes, which had been half-closed and dreamy the day before, flashed in alarm. Only when she recognized Linda did the woman relax.
“Kia ora, karani. Please offer Tane’s spirits my greeting,” Linda said, gesturing at the tree. “Forgive us if the girl bothered you during your prayers. This is my husband, Joe Fitzpatrick, called Fitz. Fitz, this is Omaka. Her name means ‘flowing river.’” She turned from Fitz to Vera, and her voice hardened as she switched to English. “As a priestess, Omaka is one with the river and the land. She belongs here just as much as we do, and you will treat her with dignity and respect.”
Linda had always had an easier time fighting for others than for herself. For a heartbeat, Vera gaped in surprise before curling her lips into a sneer.
“I thought this land belonged to Fitz,” she said tauntingly.
Omaka looked into Linda’s eyes. “Haere mai, mokopuna. Welcome—Feetz.” She narrowed her eyes at Vera. “Who is the girl?”
Linda, who was touched that the priestess had called her granddaughter, searched for the correct word in Maori. The Ngai Tahu hadn’t had any words for domestic servants.
“A young woman who works for us.”
“Your slave?” Omaka asked.
Linda shook her head. “No, but something like that. Only she does not belong to us. She can leave whenever she wishes.”
“Then send her away,” Omaka demanded.
“Chase the old woman away,” Vera demanded, staring intently at Fitz. “She scares me.”
Linda wasn’t sure which demand to react to first. She didn’t know how much Fitz had understood of her conversation with Omaka. But the last words had been clear, since Omaka spoke with her hands. She pointed her sacred staff at the girl as though trying to shoo her away like an animal.
“I can’t do that,” she said, turning to Omaka first. “She has difficulties with her family. She needs us.”
Omaka frowned. “Mokopuna, do you lie to me, or do you lie to yourself?”
Linda blushed. “My—my husband hired her,” she said helplessly. “But it is not what you think.”
Omaka glared at Vera furiously again, then she peered at Fitz. A shadow crossed her face. “I see, mokopuna,” she said.
“She will not bother you,” Linda continued hastily. “She will work for us, down by the river, in the fields, by the house. She does not need to come here at all. Do you want to make your home here, so that you can protect the kauri? We could build you a house. I brought you some blankets and a tent. I should not have, but nobody was looking, so I just took a few more rolls of cloth. The army provided us with them, we—” Realizing she was babbling, Linda fell silent.
“I thank you, mokopuna, and I will try to protect you,” Omaka said in her clear, calm voice, her gaze firmly on Vera.
Linda fought down her anxiety with a hysterical laugh. Protect her from Vera? Wasn’t it Linda who had to protect the priestess?
“What are you waiting for, Fitz?” Vera asked, her voice shrill. Apparently, Omaka’s disapproval didn’t slide off her as easily as Linda’s did.
Fitz looked back and forth between her and Linda unhappily. “Vera, I can’t just chase a feeble old woman away.”
“Why not? She’s a witch. Linda said so herself!”
“A priestess,” Linda said, correcting her. “She’s a priestess. And yes, maybe you could call her a medicine woman.” She wondered desperately how she could get Fitz on her side. This power struggle was pure madness. She was Fitz’s wife, and Vera was nothing but a busybody, a cheeky little girl. Suddenly, she thought of a solution. Fitz was a gambler. He believed in luck. “Women like her,” Linda claimed, “conjure spirits for their people. They carve hei tiki and cast curses. I would be nice to her if I were you, Vera.”
She made sure not to direct her words at Fitz, but she could guess what was going on in his head.
But Vera just laughed. “A fat lot of good it did her people, having the blessing of their gods and spirits,” she sneered.
“Rere ka te ringe ki te ure, ka titoirira, katahi ka hapainga te karakia,” Omaka said.
It was a protective enchantment to free possessed souls. Linda couldn’t understand every word. Like any karakia, this one was spoken quickly, words and syllables flowing into one another. But it was certainly harmless, far from a curse.
Still, Fitz grew pale. “She won’t bother you,” he said to Vera, and Linda breathed a sigh of relief. “We’ll order her to stay here. It’s what she wants, anyway. Linda says she’s guarding her tree. And you’ll be by the river most of the time, anyway.”
Vera shot Fitz a hateful look. “If I were you,” she told him icily, “I’d chop her tree into a thousand pieces and burn it all. A real man like the major would do that. You just don’t have it in you.”
She spat on the ground, then turned on her heel and went back toward the river. Fitz followed, which pleased Linda. He certainly shouldn’t put up with that kind of treatment from this nobody he’d taken in.
“And with that,” she said, “the nightmare seems to be over.”
Omaka shook her head. “To kai ihi, to kai ihi. To kai Rangi, to kai Papa. To kai awe, to kai karu. To kai ure pahore . . .”
Linda could hear the priestess continue her conjuring as she slowly made her way to collect the canvas and blankets she had brought for Omaka. The old tohunga didn’t seem to share her optimism. Evil spirits weren’t that easy to banish.
Chapter 55
And in the end, Linda’s hopes were dashed. Fitz didn’t send Vera away. In fact, over the following days, they fell into a pattern. It was usually Vera who would pick a fight after Fitz had rejected one of her suggestions or denied one of her wishes. The girl seemed determined to figure out how much he was prepared to risk for her. She demanded he go fishing with her instead of patrolling the settlement’s borders, as was his duty. And she repeatedly convinced him to let her shoot his rifle, even though the military settlers weren’t allowed to use their weapons to hunt. The military command was in constant readiness for Maori ambush, and mobilized immediately to find the source of any unexpected gunshot.
Yet Fitz and Vera always got away with their nonsense. They expressed a fiendish joy whenever they fooled one of Fitz’s superiors yet again. Fitz was risking trouble and a fine without even a rabbit to show for it. He was still a bad marksman, and Vera didn’t even try aiming at a target. She just enjoyed the noise the rifle made.
Linda was livid over their foolishness. Goodness knew they didn’t have enough money to be pointlessly risking it that way. Besides, Fitz and Vera’s “games” made it impossible for her to add small animals to their diet, which she caught in Maori-style traps. When shots were fired, anybody who had meat on their table was a suspect. They would have had to account for the whereabouts of the ammunition they had been given, and of course, Fitz would immediately have been discovered as the shooter. But he brushed off Linda’s reproaches in his usual careless manner.
“You’re so unfair, Linda! First, you complained that Vera wouldn’t help with the fishing and hunting. But now that she’s trying to learn, that isn’t right either!”
All Linda could do was sit there in silent resignation. Any explanation was twisted into the opposite of what she’d intended, and Fitz seemed to have lost his basic common sense. He’d always liked playing with fire—the fact that his behavior was now pointless instead of helping them glean small advantages as it had in the past seemed to fly over his head. At least he wasn’t completely out of control. He gave in to Vera’s whims whenever possible, but he wouldn’t risk being kicked out
of the army. When he did contradict the girl, she would react quite harshly.
Linda withdrew to Omaka more and more. Sometimes she caught herself murmuring spells with her. Every time Fitz and Vera fought, Linda hoped they’d finally had enough of each other, but by the next day, all would be forgotten.
Linda knew better than to try to change Vera. She just ignored her, much like Vera did when the two women were alone on their future farm. Of course, she was annoyed that Vera wouldn’t help her with any of the work, but Linda could get along without her. The person she could not do without was Fitz. Linda could build traps and catch fish, dig for roots, and collect entire stocks of medicinal plants. With some effort and the skilled use of Brianna’s strength, she could ready the land to be plowed and sown. But she couldn’t chop down trees, build a house, or construct fences or barns.
Unfortunately, Fitz had little interest. Everywhere else in the settlement, trees were coming down, and the first cabins and workshops were being erected. A settler from Wales was even keeping a few sheep already. If Linda had had things her way, Fitz would have built a corral for Brianna first so the mare could graze without constant supervision. Simply keeping her tied to a stake was risky. The lively horse could easily panic if she got her legs tangled in the rope, and she might get hurt. Next, they should have built a barn. Linda wanted to write to Ida and Karl as soon as possible about acquiring some sheep. With Amy’s help, she could keep them without fences. All she needed was a barn with space for milking and shearing, as well as the cheese dairy.
The corral and barn could have been done within a few weeks if Fitz had worked steadily. Many neighborhood groups were already building their second or third houses. Fitz, however, returned home after his early morning duties, claiming he was exhausted from the drills and earthwork construction, which was admittedly hard work. Major McDonnell’s troops created enormous embankments and fortified them with wood. Still, hardly anyone complained. After their first run-in with a group of marauding Maori warriors, even the orneriest of the men understood why they were being drilled and what the fortifications were for. Fortunately, there were no casualties on either side, but the military settlers had been on their guard ever since.
What was more, these were men accustomed to hard work. There had been no loafing in the goldfields or at the whaling station. They grimly began their drills at six in the morning, and would immediately start working on their houses or fields when they returned home in the early afternoon. Only Fitz would take a break first, and he wouldn’t begin working on the farm before early evening. He’d listlessly grab an ax and chop down one or two trees, leaving them for Linda to take the bark off. Then he’d suddenly remember that he’d lent his saw to Fairbanks or another settler, or that it was dull and needed to be sharpened, or that he badly needed the help of another man, preferably one who lived three parcels over and had to be convinced to come. Usually, Fitz would simply disappear to avoid any argument with Linda. He had Vera deliver his lame excuses. The girl allowed Linda’s annoyance to roll off her back without a hint of emotion. While Linda went on working, Vera disappeared just as surreptitiously as her so-called employer. She wouldn’t raise a finger at Linda’s behest.
About a month after the land assignments had been made, there was a special conscription order for the military settlers. Major McDonnell had discovered that Waikoukou was a Hauhau base, and there was reason to assume Te Ua Haumene was there. It fell to McDonnell to muster his soldiers and attempt to destroy the fort. There was no stopping them once General Chute approached with his troops.
“Apparently, they’ve captured two white women as well,” McDonnell told his men, whom he had brought together at the base. “Just imagine! This is your chance to prove yourselves. Show that you’re real soldiers! Who knows, you might even turn out to be heroes. We’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning, with full equipment.”
“Either we’ll prove ourselves or we’ll be dead,” Fitz said nervously as Linda packed his things that evening.
In truth, he should have been doing it himself. The military settlers had been carefully instructed about what to bring on a campaign and where and how to pack it. But Fitz hadn’t paid any attention. He hadn’t been expecting deployment, and he was horrified at the prospect.
“Try to take care of yourself,” Linda said.
She’d known for quite some time now that Fitz’s military skills weren’t much to brag about, and it terrified her. Still, she trusted him to get by somehow. Those conflicting feelings accompanied her constantly during the ten days that McDonnell and his men were away. She was agitated and absentminded, hardly managing to finish her day’s work, and of course, she and Vera didn’t get anywhere with the construction work on the house. Vera seemed completely unworried by Fitz’s absence. She drifted lazily through her days, daydreaming and primping and watching Linda work. Occasionally, she’d make sarcastic remarks when the distressed woman accidentally knocked over a bucket of water or let the food burn.
“What are you so afraid of?” Vera asked casually. “If Fitz dies, you’ll get the house and land. And probably a captain who wants to comfort you as well.”
Vera grinned. Apparently, she’d noticed Captain Langdon’s occasional half-interested, half-sympathetic glances at Linda.
Linda’s jaw dropped. “Fitz is my husband,” she hissed. “It’s normal for me to be worried for him. And I don’t want a captain or anybody else. I married Fitz, and I want him!”
Vera grimaced scornfully. “Well, we can’t always have everything we want.”
Unable to stand the heartless girl’s presence, Linda withdrew and sought peace under the kauri tree. But Omaka wasn’t any more understanding of her disquiet than Vera had been.
“Your husband is no warrior,” the priestess explained calmly, “and he does not see himself that way. Once the first shot is fired, he will burrow into the ground like a kiwi in the daytime, and so will return. Do not worry for him, but grieve with me instead, mokopuna. At Waikoukou, my people are having even more land taken from them, and more of them will die.”
Fitz did return, although much later than expected, with news that the fort had been taken without much bloodshed. A few soldiers had been wounded, but there were no casualties on either side. The Maori had abandoned the place quickly once they realized they were outnumbered. Some of the wounded had stayed behind and were captured. Among them was Tohu Kakahi, one of Te Ua Haumene’s confidants, which was a triumph for the generals. General Chute sent the captives to Wellington to be interrogated before his army moved northward. He left McDonnell and his military settlers to destroy the pa and the neighboring settlement. They burned the defensive installations, houses, and fields to the ground.
From Fitz’s point of view, the campaign had been dangerous, exhausting, and bloody. The only wounds he had to show for it, however, were a few insect bites. Apparently, they had been led by Maori scouts through dense forests, and they had lived in constant fear of an enemy ambush. It was the most difficult and dangerous part of the campaign. It had taken them longer than planned; they had run out of provisions, and the troops had been close to mutiny.
Finally, General Chute had allowed his men to butcher two of the horses, which had helped raise their spirits. Linda found the thought disgusting. She hoped Fitz hadn’t taken part in the “feast.”
During the battle, the Hauhau had used modern firearms. However, none of their warriors had been visible, since they’d remained inside their protective fences. The English had fired their cannons from equally safe cover. During the night following the battle, most of the Maori had disappeared. After several hours of silence, the English troops had entered the pa and searched it with all due caution.
Fitz described it all in great detail, but Linda doubted that he’d ever set foot in the fort himself.
“Was there any trace of the missing women?” Linda asked Captain Langdon a few days later at the main encampment.
The captain shook his head. “Ne
ither the women nor the prophet. He must have fled with his confidants while Tohu Kakahi came out to face us voluntarily. He wants peace, apparently. Or at least he says that all the killing needs to end. It’s a bit late for that, but better late than never.”
“Did he know about the women?” Linda asked. “It’s such an awful story, if it’s true.”
Langdon frowned. “The stories are true. There are—or there were—two sisters who wanted to go somewhere to the north. Cameron foolishly sent them with a prisoner convoy. He should have realized how dangerous it was. At that point, Weraroa pa was still completely manned.”
“And the army really isn’t trying to rescue them?” Linda asked.
The captain frowned. “The war is in a very delicate phase, what with the prophet wanting to call it off. The generals don’t dare throw that away with a raid that would just get lots of soldiers and the hostages killed—if they’re even alive anymore, which is highly unlikely. It’s a shame, but—” Langdon shrugged and looked at Linda cautiously.
“It’s too awful even to think about,” she said with a shudder. “Their poor families must be devastated!”
Chapter 56
For Carol and Mara, life after the move to Waikoukou had become easier, just as Tohu Kakahi had promised. The fort was smaller than Weraroa, and there was a village attached to it. The men who’d been minding the fort lived there with their wives and children. They weren’t anywhere near as fanatic as Te Ua Haumene’s other recruits. Hauhau ceremonies were still held, but day-to-day life was much more similar to life in a Maori village than it had been in Weraroa. In the village, there were enough single women who would gladly take their warriors to a quiet corner to exchange affections. Nobody wanted to take advantage of Carol’s forced prostitution any longer.
