They came to the ship, tied up and climbed aboard. A frightful noise came from a group of soldiers on the far side. The girls went over to find out what was happening, and found Little vomiting and retching over the side.
“What’s wrong with him?” Suzanne asked, pushing through the soldiers and inspecting Little with a critical eye. “Is he drunk?”
“Nah,” said Husk with a grin. “He reckoned kava was alcohol. He drank a couple o’ gallons of it and still isn’t pissed. Tryin’ to get rid of it now.” He cuffed Little round the head and spoke to him. “Hey mate, if it’s slowing down, shove yer finger up yer arse then dahn yer throat, that’ll fix it. Get rid of that girl spit, that’s the way.”
“Ah fuck off Husky,” gasped Little, “it’s even worse coming up than going down. Feel better though.”
Husk looked up at Suzanne and started to speak, saw Sara behind her and coloured. He stood straighter and stammered, “Sorry ma’am, didn’t see you there.”
“No harm done, Husk. Carry on.” Sara answered with a smile and turned away. She started to head off to her cabin when she heard Suzanne, who had lost interest in Little, marching towards the fo’c’sle rather than the poop, muttering to herself, something about Pat. She followed her and was surprised to see her stop by a stored jolly boat, rap on it and pull back the canvas cover.
“Pat,” she ordered, “come out, I need you tonight.” She stopped dead, and moved back as a spear slipped out of the jolly boat and pointed at her.
“Pat is off duty,” hissed Hinatea viciously, causing Suzanne to back up further. “He’s exhausted from looking for rocks all day while you drink kava.” She spat this last without emerging from the boat.
Sara grabbed her arm and pulled a spluttering Suzanne away. “She can’t talk to me that way! I’m the bloody captain!”
“You’re not acting like one! That was disgraceful behaviour and she was well within her rights.” Sara did wonder how Suzanne knew where they would be, impressed at the clever little love nest put together out of sight. Her heart ached, but she was over Pat, she told herself. She saw Suzanne to her room, and, after a moment’s thought, called on Janis to set a guard on the door with instructions to keep the Captain in her room till the morning. As an afterthought, she told him to use Boersma who certainly wouldn’t be tempted by Suzanne. Thinking about it, she deduced the magic was making a comeback in Suzanne, maybe caused by the Ratu’s close attention.
Sara was on watch with the sun well up when Suzanne appeared on the poop deck. She looked at the captain curiously. She knew Boersma had repelled a couple of attempts to leave during the night and was more than a little grumpy at the indignities Suzanne had tried to perform on him. “How are you feeling today? You were a bit worse for wear last night, as if the magic had come back.”
“Well, I feel fine this morning,” said Suzanne with a frown. “But I wasn’t myself last night. Thank you for looking after me.” She smiled and Sara sighed her relief at getting a sensible Suzanne back.
“Have you eaten, Captain? Shall I call the officers for a meeting?”
“Yes please. Give me five minutes to get a hot tea.”
It took a bit longer, as they needed to involve Captain Larroche and Brian as much as possible, and it took longer to roust them out. After running through the daily duties, the Bosun went to get Pat for his report. He came up the ladder with Hinatea in tow. Sara felt a little worried and wondered if Suzanne remembered her performance the night before. Clearly she did, for she coloured.
“Hinatea, I am sorry for last night. I wasn’t myself.” She prepared to go on, but Hinatea’s ferocious expression changed into sunny happiness.
“It’s fine. I understand. You must be careful with these men. Bad men, eat people, much fighting. No drink kava with them.” She shook her head and folded her legs underneath her as she took her place next to Pat. The dwarf master appeared and sat beside Pat.
“What did you find, Pat?”
“Oh, there’s plenty of different ores on the island,” he answered and proceeded to lay out samples on a cloth in front of him. Rocks of various different colours and shapes which the dwarf bent and inspected minutely, grunting as he did so. Sara couldn’t tell if the grunts were words.
“Look like rocks to me,” said Suzanne distastefully. “How do you know they are ores?”
“Bit of colour, but the weight is the main thing. I don’t know if they are any good, the master will know.”
The dwarf discarded a couple but retained four samples. “This one very good,” he banged one in front of Pat. “You remember where you found it? Was there lots, easy to get?”
“Yup. It’s a big slab sticking out of the ground. Just need to break bits off.”
“We’ll test it, see what it’s like. Any clay?”
Pat proffered more samples.
The dwarf was less impressed with these. “Are these the best you could find? Well, I expect I can make do. I will need lots of people to work with me.”
“If you can make axes out of these rocks, the Ratu will provide as many as you want,” said Sara.
“Axes, no problem. Fine work, good swords, maybe more difficult. Don’t know yet. I’ll go get ready.” He scrambled to his feet and slid down the ladder, rather than stretch for the steps.
Captain Larroche stirred and everyone looked at him, Suzanne and Sara with their pulses racing at this sign of life. “What have they got to trade?”
Sara slipped into role. “Copra, sir. I think it is a different, ah, type to that from Pahipi. I wouldn’t say quality, but perhaps the curing process is different. There is plenty of land here, and the locals are good farmers, but I don’t recognise most of the crops. Not sure what could be transported home. Perhaps dried fish?” She shook her head doubtfully. “Of course there is trepang.”
“They make oil from copra. Make the oil and put it in barrels. Take that instead.” The captain sat back.
“It’s difficult.” Taufik said mournfully. “I know they press it and heat it, that’s all. Easy to make a mistake. Copra is easier. You have to watch for mould or it can all end up rotten and worthless. Otherwise copra is easy to transport and sell. Not a lot of money, but some. Better to learn how to make the oil in Hind and to take the copra to Harrhein to make the oil there. Oil doesn’t travel well.”
“Would you and Brian like to take a watch, perhaps together?” Suzanne asked hopefully.
“Yes,” said the Captain slowly, with an enquiring glance at Brian who nodded. “I think that would be a good idea. Must get back into the swing of it.”
“Sara, ship’s business is taken care of. Do you want to discuss anything with regard to trade?” Suzanne looked at her.
“A few things. It seems to me these people don’t understand money, and will exchange service for service, or barter goods.” Sara looked at Hinatea, who nodded at her. “I have some ideas as to what we should offer them, and I want your thoughts, please.” She looked at them. “I am not talking about goods for barter, but more serious trade. The Ratu will offer me warriors, and wants me to train them. He wants axemen and shields.” She looked round the meeting, to see interested faces, with Mactravis nodding but Hinatea looking alarmed. “There is metal on this island, so we can teach them metal work, which we will need if we are going to arm them. There are many different trees, and I think the carpenter can teach them something about building larger ships. I am sure there are many other ways we can improve their lives.”
“Don’t be too sure it would be an improvement,” murmured Suzanne. “Remember how Pahipi didn’t want most of what we can offer.”
“Hinatea, you look worried,” said Sara with a nod to Suzanne. “What is the matter?”
“You must be careful with these people. Very fierce. Just because he laugh and hold your bum doesn’t mean he is safe. You give him axe, and ship, he go straight to Pahipi and kill my people, rape the girls.”
Mactravis nodded. “It’s a good point. You can’t just give him weapons; he could turn them on us, kill us all and steal the Queen Rose. You’ll need hostages or something to emphasize it isn’t worth his while to break faith.”
“Faith?” Walters said, breaking out of a reverie. “I shall convert them all, bring them safely to God, then they will become a host, the Glorious Army of the Lord, bringing His light to the world.” He lapsed back into silence and contemplated his feet.
The Bosun, uncaring of politeness, groaned loudly. “No sign of the Bishop recovering then. Why did he have to get bloody religion all of a sudden? Want me to confine him to ship while we’re in port?”
“No, leave him. He’s not doing any harm,” said Suzanne, “but keep an eye on him. Hello, what’s this?” She looked down to the main deck where a young Kai Viti climbed aboard. “Sara, it’s the Ratu’s son. Maciu, isn’t it?”
Maciu spoke to Little, who pointed up at the poop and Maciu climbed up, delighted with the ladder. He smiled at Sara as he went up to Suzanne, ducked his head and knelt in front of where she sat, cross legged on the deck.
“Lady,” he spoke in Belada, “the Great Ratu asks for your help. Demons entered his head in the night and struggle to get out. He shouts in pain and his belly is sour. He asks for more brandy to quieten the demons.”
Suzanne’s mouth quirked, but she managed to maintain a straight face. “I am desolate to hear the Great Ratu suffers so. I fear the brandy would feed the demons. I suggest he drinks lots of water, which will help to wash them out of his head. It would be unwise to drink more brandy before the demons depart. Please tell him I shall come to see him as soon as I can.”
“As you say, Lady.” Maciu bowed and turned to Sara. “Lady Sara, the Ratu’s advisors are ready to talk with you when you are ready, and asked me to offer you passage in my boat to the shore.” His eyes twinkled at her.
Sara smiled. “Thank you. That would be pleasing.” She turned to the company and switched back to Harrhein. “I will keep in mind your thoughts, especially yours, Hinatea. If nobody has any further suggestions, it’s back to the salt mines for me.” She looked around, nodded to everyone and got up to follow Maciu, hearing Hinatea whisper to Pat, “Salt mine? What is salt mine?”
Sara sat in the canoe for the first time, and discovered just how narrow they were. She climbed in gingerly, accepting Maciu’s hand and was surprised at the depth, though barely a hands breadth showed on either side of her slim hips. There was a yoke at each end, going out to port to connect to a long log, parallel to the canoe. Maciu called the log an outrigger which kept the canoe stable. Four paddlers knelt in the canoe, with barely enough room in the small vessel, and Sara thrilled at how fast they moved it, giving shrill cries of excitement as they paddled. She admired the muscles playing in front of her and thought them all superb physical specimens. She looked at the water flying from the wavelets in the bow, flying fish erupting from it, and spray streaming off the paddles onto the paddlers when a question occurred to her.
“What happens to your hair when you go swimming?” She turned awkwardly to look at Maciu.
“It falls down and straightens!” he laughed. “You like to go swimming? Later after you talk come and see waves, I show you paipo, how we ride them fast like the boat goes now, without paddling.”
“Sure,” she said. “That sounds like fun.” It did too, and Sara liked the idea of taking a break from responsibility. She also liked the way Maciu looked at her.
Suzanne found the Ratu recovering from his hangover and being berated by a huge woman. He left his house with alacrity and announced he would show her the sights. Yes, the water helped but not as much as the sight of her, he assured her gallantly. Today he played the part of a perfect gentleman, paying her compliments, making her laugh and explaining how the island functioned. Even when they walked round the swimming hole with its beautiful waterfall, he didn’t suggest they swim.
They joined the negotiators for lunch where the Kai Viti advisors brought the Ratu up to date and Sara did the same to Suzanne. The Ratu attempted to cut through the negotiations by extolling the savagery of his warriors. Captain Larroche, Brian and Walters looked alarmed.
Sara smiled and changed the subject. “I think we are finished for the day, Great Ratu. After lunch Maciu is taking me to see paipo.”
“Paipo,” roared the Ratu. “Yes, I am superb at paipo and will show you as well. Suzanne, this afternoon we go swimming in the sea on the south beach.”
“Really,” said Suzanne. “I will be happy to watch, but perhaps I shall sit out the swimming.”
“You should just watch as well, father,” said Maciu with a grin. “You are too old and fat now and will sink through the waves.”
Before the Ratu could respond, a calm voice punctured his anger.
“Paipo? If your waves are good enough, I will show you alaia.” Hinatea walked up to the lunch table and selected a piece of breadfruit, Pat, Grey Fox and the other explorers behind her.
“A woman?” Maciu hissed . “Impossible.”
“We have no men on Pahipi, so we girls do the rituals. I am alaia.” Hinatea answered and sliced a mango expertly, offering a piece to Pat.
“You are the warrior leader of Pahipi, the War Ratu,” mused the Ratu, his play anger gone and betraying his ready grasp of unmentioned politics. “I wish to see your alaia.”
A holiday must have been proclaimed, for the entire village and most of the crew trooped down to the south beach, a walk of a good half an hour. A long beach revealed itself through the ever present coconut palms, white sand sparkling in the sunlight, breathtakingly beautiful. Standing under the palm trees, Suzanne and Sara stared at the ocean. Huge combers rolled in, breaking a good five hundred paces out and rolling majestically to shore, smashing down into the sand with a roar.