Sara strode into the village one morning looking radiant, beaming smiles around, closely attended by Maciu and two Pahippian girls. Maciu’s eyes seemed to fixate on the Princess.
Suzanne’s eyes narrowed. She invited Sara off for a chat, waving the guards away, and made them both some tea. Sara grinned, looking forward to sharing her news. She accepted the steaming tea and sipped, spluttering at the bitterness before looking with accusing eyes at Suzanne.
“This is the tea for stopping babies! How did you know? I wanted to surprise you.”
“Your face rather gives you away, darling, while Maciu has that particularly silly look of the man helplessly in love.”
“Does he really?” Sara craned her neck to inspect him.
“It was yesterday, wasn’t it? When you went off surfing. How did you manage to get off alone?”
“It was a mistake, actually. I didn’t intend anything.” Sara bubbled out the story, delighted to confide in Suzanne, but determined to avoid the graphic details Suzanne included in her descriptions of the Ratu’s performance.
“Hinatea went fishing, all the girls wanted to go as well, so I sent them off. The men carried the food and Maciu and I decided to take the cliff climb to a new beach. The men took the main path with their burdens which is much further. I told them not to worry. The cliff path went by the cutest little cove; Maciu said the deep water was warm and great for swimming. He dared me to jump in from on top of the cliff. It was quite high.”
Sara smiled as she relived the moment.
“You dived, didn’t you? Little show-off!”
“Oh yes. He has never seen a dive, never mind from so high and was so impressed. He jumped after me, swam up to me and started to go on about how great I was. So I kissed him.” Sara blushed. “I’m not sure why, but I felt so good and pleased with myself. The water was deep and we sank down quite a way before I needed to come up for air. I was worried we were too deep but he pulled me up and while I was gasping for breath he pulled me towards the shore. As soon as his feet touched the sand he started to kiss me again, and, well, he didn’t stop.”
“What, he did you in the water? Naughty boy!” Suzanne arched her eyebrows, smiling. She loved this and readied to press for all the gory details.
“Well, on the edge. He started in the water and we finished on the sand. Suzanne, I smuggled him into my room last night. He swam ashore before dawn. We were very quiet. “
“Were you indeed? No doubt the entire ship heard you screaming and the Captain will tell you off at some point.”
“You think so? So there is no point in hiding? Can I just move him into my room?”
“Well,” said Suzanne, “I am not sure about that. We don’t have anyone who is totally conservative now the Captain has had his epiphany and nobody knows what Walters will do. Probably try to marry the two of you.”
“I was thinking. He is a prince, you know.”
“It’s more than a little early to think long term, darling, and won’t your father want a little more political match for you? Besides, he won’t inherit the Vituan throne.”
“I will never marry officially,” said Sara, surprising Suzanne. “My father and I discuss the politics all the time. Far better to promise always and never carry through, which lets us keep so many different factions trading off each other. None of them are powerful enough individually to make marriage worth our while. If I can turn up with an army of a thousand kai Viti in return for marrying this Prince, that makes the contract worthwhile..”
“The church will never accept him. They set their hearts on you marrying a true believer like Raphael.” Suzanne knew how far advanced the plans were, but refrained from mentioning this inflammatory news.
“That asshole! As if I would let him touch me. A thousand kai Viti axemen with their discipline will shut them up. Thank you for the tea, Suzanne, time to chat with the Ratu, I think. I will move Maciu in later, thanks for the advice.”
Suzanne felt a little nettled, the conversation not following quite her intended path, and she found herself left unsure. Sara would change from little girl to sophisticated courtier in the blink of an eye, so unsettling.
Sara installed Maciu brazenly and openly. She did this so casually that nobody turned a hair, not even Captain Larroche. Suzanne watched without comment, her help unnecessary. She reflected that Sara made a pretty good ruler all ready, persuading people to follow her desires without thought.
On the ninth day, the Ratu discussed tactics with Sara, Mactravis and most of his senior warriors, while nearby Suzanne and Captain Larroche compared Harrhein pottery with the style the local women called Lapita.
A warrior came running up the path, dropped in front of the Ratu and started reporting with his face in the sand. The Ratu stood, fury contorting his features, kicking the warrior’s head.
“What is the matter, Ratu?” Sara asked.
“The filth from the outer islands attack us. They take two fishing canoes, also the fishermen, including two of your men.”
“Where is their village ? Will they take the captives there and what will they do with them?”
“They will take them to their village and they will eat them.” said the Ratu, with a final furious kick and the poor bearer of bad news.
“How big is the village and how many warriors?”
“Maybe two hundred warriors. Same size as this one. The island is three days away by canoe.”
“Let me take a hundred of your warriors and we will flatten the village and take our people back.”
“A hundred? Not enough! We do not have the power to take their village. We need three or four hundred, they are behind a wall. They fear us.”
“A hundred will do the trick. We have big catapults on the ship to bombard them, and with the new tactics we will take them. Besides, our warriors have other talents you have not yet seen.”
“Ilikimi, if you tell Sara the situation at the village, she can plan what she needs to rescue our people and take revenge,” said Suzanne, unerringly getting him on board with the use of the word revenge.
“Do you have anyone who has been there to build a model?” Sara asked.
“What is a model?”
After an explanation, they sent for Walters along with his charts and Captain Larroche came to join them. Both were pretty much recovered now, Captain Larroche having reclaimed the captaincy on board, while leaving the girls in charge of negotiations. Walters’ lapses into religion became less frequent, particularly as he had persuaded an older crew girl to move into his cabin. He proceeded to build a scale model of the enemy village from his charts and details filled in by the kai Viti who knew it - not many, and usually from a raid. Sara patiently questioned them all, creating the defences in the model.
She turned to the Captain. “Can you send a boat here,” she pointed out a spot on the chart remote from the enemy village, “the pinnace, drop off Grey Fox, Pat and Mot in the evening, pick them up in the morning and meet with the Queen on her way?”
He nodded and she turned to Corporal Strachan. “Corporal, take four men, bowmen or crossbows, and create a secure outpost at the drop off point to cover them in case they need to come back in a hurry. Make sure the post is invisible to anyone, even from a metre away. Full camouflage. You come back to the ship, with Grey Fox when he reports. Pat, Grey Fox, take your time, memorise this model. We will take it with us on the ship, you must update it with as much information as you can. Do you want to take Mot, Pat?”
Pat nodded and looked at the model intently.
“Mactravis,” went on Sara, “I think we are best landing the troops on the beach front by boat, in silence before dawn. The Queen Rose will signal the attack with the ballistas. A few bolts will keep their heads down. Then a shield wall, three deep, advance up the main road to the gate. We don’t know the depth of the sea so we will assume the Queen Rose is unable to knock the gate down or bottle them inside.”
She looked up at the Ratu, for whom Suzanne translated the conversation while his leading warriors listened.
“Ratu, I assume the enemy will attack when they see only 100 warriors on the beach, even with the shields which they won’t have seen before?”
The Ratu answered, “They will attack for sure. They see shields before, many try them, but not as strong as these. They will expect to break them.”
“Good. Mactravis, you take half your lads up the left, Sergeant Russell takes half up the right, divide any other archers from the ship between you. There is a small hillock here from which you can take them in enfilade. Russell, you will need most of the crossbow men as there is no cover closer than these trees.” She pointed at the model which showed Russell would be firing from over 150 paces.
“Pat, you and Grey Fox are detached, take Rat with you. Your job is to make sure the rear gate is open when we arrive and to cut off escape to the interior.”
“Janis, I want the Spakka as the reserve, ready to be thrown in as needed. Also I need ten fast runners to take commands. Hinatea, that’s your girls.” They nodded, looking at the map.
“Questions anyone?”
Pat thought a moment, then spoke. “Perryn. Need him.”
Sara raised an eyebrow.
“Water fire,” said Pat. “He can make it. Will use some of the yellow flowers.”
“You’ve got him, good thought,” said Sara, while Suzanne explained to the astonished kai Viti that water fire was a chemical fire which burnt underwater and could not be put out.
“Where will you be?” Mactravis asked and everyone looked at her.
“Leading the shield wall,” said Sara flatly.
For the first time there was dissent, everyone speaking at once.
Lieutenant Mactravis cut through the argument, speaking plainly. “Ma’am, you must command from behind the shield wall. Place the runners and your personal guard around you. You would be a weak link in the wall, without the physical strength of these people. You would get men killed.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed and she shuffled in anger.
“I lead Shield Wall” the Ratu stated. “Then they attack for sure.” He smiled. “New axes will be fun.”
For the first time Sara looked worried, and Suzanne knew why. The shield wall needed discipline and she didn’t think the Ratu possessed any.
The Ratu’s eyes twinkled. “Not to worry. I do what you say. You War Ratu, you in charge.” He laughed. “You forget I am the Great Ratu of the Islands, instead I am best axeman in Shield Wall!”
A roar went up from the Kai Viti, some acclamation but most disagreeing and pointing out that in fact they themselves were without question the best axeman in the wall.
“Very well,” said Sara. “If no further questions, scouts off, and load the ship. We sail in 30 minutes.”
Pat spoke again. “I want Wiwik and Mara too.”
“Your friends?”
“Yes. Trackers. They are good at night, good fighters.” Pat still didn’t believe in words.
“Fine by me. Ratu, do you agree?”
He looked at Pat. “Why you choose them?”
“They are your best night fighters,” answered Pat without hesitation.
The Ratu smiled. “Mara my son. Good, you take them.”
People went in all directions, leaving Sara and Mactravis. He looked at her and smiled. “Just like your father, always want to be in the thick of battle. You know damn well you shouldn’t be in the shield wall.”
She stared at him. “You knew damn well I wanted to be. That’s why you asked.” He nodded. “How did you guess.”
He smiled. “You look like your father and act like him. He saved my life once. You fight like him too. Same mannerisms in your sword play, though I would judge you to be considerably better, which is saying something. The way you give orders. The way you outfit yourself and clean your weapons, pure Kingdom Royal Horse. All just like your father. And he would throw a strop when we would stop him from playing silly buggers.”
“Don’t remember your record showing you spent any time at court to develop this courtier diplomat double talk.”
“Had to wet nurse a few of your relatives over the years.”
They walked down to the ship together.
The Bosun peered into the darkness, ready to move at the slightest noise. She could make out the beach, and hear the quiet hissing as the small waves ran up it. She couldn’t see any sign of the scouts.
“Where the hell are they?” she whispered to her mate, crouched beside her and also peering into the night. “Do you think they made it?”
“No bloody idea,” he whispered back. “Bet they can hear us whispering though.”
“I guess,” said the Bosun. “I didn’t hear a bloody thing, not even the dog shaking itself.”
A hundred yards away, Pat smiled in the dark. The whispers did carry over the sea at night, and he appreciated the Bosun’s concern. Mot had swum ashore and gone into the brush without shaking herself - he knew she wouldn’t till she finished searching the area. Pat stretched out naked on a rock, letting the worst of the water dry off. He scraped himself with a strigil he carried for the purpose - a small curved metal knife which picked up the water and removed it as he stroked the strigil over his flesh. Dry, or as dry as he could get, he slipped into his fighting garb.
Leather moccasins, thin and sensitive, he could feel tracks in the ground through them and they let him never, ever tread on a stick or even a dry leaf. Leather knee protectors, for when he crawled, with matching elbow protectors. On his left arm, the leather projected down his forearm as protection from his bowstring. He wore a leather belt that supported a leather loin cloth and kept his groin protected and secure. Nothing else, for Pat hated cloth when stalking - it brushed against leaves and made one hell of noise. Skin did not give the same result. But it did gleam, and he applied an ointment to darken his skin, removing all shine. He had mixed in some pigshit, giving him a slight odour, to Mot’s delight.