Hawaii - James Michener [37]
Teroro grasped his wife by the arm. "Haven't you heard the whispers?" he asked bitterly. "When Tamatoa goes, who is to be the new king? Fat Tatai of Havaiki."
Marama gasped. "Have they gone so far?" she asked.
"Yes!" Teroro snapped. "And do you know what they had the insolence to do? They proposed that I desert my brother and leave Bora Bora. I was to marry Tatai's daughter . . . trade places with him!"
"Why didn't you tell me this?"
"It was only now that I figured it out," he replied sheepishly. And as always, when he felt humiliated, he decided upon a plan of swift action. "Marama," he said hurriedly, "go across the mountain and assemble all who have agreed to paddle the canoe."
"What are you planning?" she asked suspiciously.
"To take West Wind for a trial, on the ocean. To see if the new stern works. Tell anyone who asks, that's what we're doing. But whisper to each man that he must also bring his best war club."
"No, Teroro!"
"Do you want us to creep away, unavenged?"
"Yes. There's no dishonor in that."
"Not for a woman, perhaps," Teroro said.
Marama considered what was involved, the possibility of death and the chance that Havaiki might send canoes in retaliation, thus ending escape to the north, but after she had considered for a long time she said, "Since men are what they are, Teroro, you ought not to go unavenged. May the gods protect you."
So, toward midafternoon two days before the intended departure for Nuku Hiva, and while a good wind blew from the west, promising a later storm of some dimensions, thirty determined paddlers, plus the steersman Hiro and the navigator Teroro, set forth from Bora Bora to test their canoe. It moved sedately across the light green waters of the lagoon and stoutly into the dark waters of the outer ocean, already whipped by the wind into sturdy waves. The canoe moved back and forth in speed tests, then hoisted sail and darted into a long leg down wind. When it had left the lee of the island Teroro asked, "Are we agreed?"
"We are," Mato said, pulling his war club into position.
"To Havaiki!" Teroro shouted to the steersman, and West Wind tore into the waves and its paddlers strained as darkness fell over the impartial sea.
For generations out of mind Bora Bora had been known among the islands as the land of the muffled paddles, for since it was the smallest of the major islands, its men were required to practice added caution. Now, with the dying moon not yet risen, they paused to wrap their paddle handles in tapa, so that they could creep silently, leaving barely a ripple on the sea, toward the hallowed landing of Oro, where only a few weeks before they had been so deeply humiliated.
Gently, gently, the double canoe was beached before any outlook spotted it, and thirty resolute men, leaving two to guard the canoe, slipped into the night toward the village where fat Tatai, the intended king of Bora Bora, slept. The avengers had almost reached the village when a dog barked, causing a woman to cry, "Who's stealing breadfruit?" She sounded an alarm, but before effective action could be taken, Teroro and his men had fallen upon the village and were seeking out all who had insulted them, and most particularly fat Tatai, the nominated king.
It was Teroro who led the avengers to Tatai's compound. There he and shark-faced Pa swept into the main hut, smashing and crashing all they encountered. A girl's voice, soft and petulant, whispered, "He is not here, Teroro!”
Then she screamed in pain, for Pa's great club struck her, and from the floor she whimpered, "He is not here."
Pa was about to crush her skull when Teroro pulled him away and with his left hand dragged her to safety. From a flare set ablaze by the frugal woman who was determined to protect her breadfruit, Teroro saw that Tehani was naked except for a hastily grabbed skirt which she held before her, and he rediscovered her spectacular beauty. From a distance came his brother's voice: "Don’t you know any young girl?" and on the impulse of the moment