Could this be The Great New Zealand novel? This is a fine novel that invites understanding of New Zealand’s fascinating history! –Grady Harp (U.S. Arts Critic)
CHAPTER 12
Matavai Bay, Tahiti, May, 1769
Time passed ever so slowly – excruciatingly slowly for Nicholas. The lad noticed the bure he’d been allocated was only yards from the rear entrance to the royal quarters. He wondered if that had any significance. Curious, he entered his new temporary home.
Inside, he found the bure was typical of others on the island. Constructed of bamboo, bark, palm tree fronds, ferns and pandanus leaves, it looked comfortable enough. There was only one small window opening, set into the far wall, but its location opposite the open doorway ensured that sea breezes would pass through, providing welcome relief from the oppressive heat and humidity. Fronds covered the grassy floor, and a flax bed-mat lay atop a mattress of ferns beneath the window.
The morning sun gave way to the afternoon, and still there was no sign of Tupaia or the queen. To occupy himself, Nicholas went for a stroll round the village. He discovered most of the villagers were inside their bures or sitting in the shade of palm trees to escape the sun. A few playful children scampered around between the dwellings. Everyone who saw the handsome young European smiled or waved at him. He responded in kind, but further communication was impossible without Tupaia being present to translate.
Hot and thirsty, he returned to his bure to discover someone had kindly left food and water in separate wooden bowls just inside the doorway. He greedily satisfied his hunger and thirst. Suddenly tired, he lay down on the bed-mat and let his mind wander. He found himself wondering what Queen Obadia could possibly want with him. And he recalled that fleeting instant their eyes locked the first time he’d seen her, but he dared not read anything into that.
I probably imagined it.
His eyes grew heavy and he was asleep before he knew it.
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Nicholas didn’t know how long he’d been sleeping when he was roused from his slumber by Tupaia. “What…what took you so long?” he asked, yawning.
“That not important my friend.” The Tahitian didn’t reveal that he’d spent the day reassuring Queen Obadia that she was doing the right thing and that the surgeon’s boy had been sent to her by the gods. “What is important is…queen now ready to meet you.”
This news both elated and alarmed Nicholas.
“Come,” Tupaia commanded, heading for the doorway.
A nervous Nicholas followed. Outside, he discovered the afternoon shadows had lengthened considerably since he’d fallen asleep.
Tupaia stopped in front of the main entrance to the royal quarters and indicated to the younger man that he should enter the queen’s residence.
“Are you not coming with me?” Nicholas asked.
“Queen say she want to see you…alone.”
“I surely need you to translate.”
“Queen Obadia speak English. Not good as me, of course, but good enough to understand.” Tupaia strode off, smiling to himself.
Watching his escort depart, Nicholas wondered if this new development had anything to do with the engaging interpreter. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it occurred because he couldn’t imagine how his good fortune could possibly benefit Tupaia.
Inside the royal quarters it took his eyes a minute or two to adjust to the darkness. He suddenly tensed. Seated against the dwelling’s far wall was the shadowy but unmistakable outline of Hercules. The hulking rangatira sat as motionless as a giant statue.
Slowly, Hercules came to life. The Buddha-like figure uncrossed his tree-trunk legs, and, grunting with the exertion, pushed himself to his feet. Nothing was said. There was no word of greeting or even any acknowledgment of the visitor’s presence.
In the drawn-out silence, Nicholas couldn’t help but notice the rangatira now seemed to be scowling at him. The lad looked around for some sign of the queen. She was nowhere to be seen.
“Queen Obadia…she join us soon,” Hercules said in broken English, his deep voice disturbing the silence and causing Nicholas to jump for the second time in as many minutes.
Another strained silence followed.
Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, the disconcerted visitor was alarmed to see Hercules was still glaring at him.
What’s his problem?
It seemed the rangatira was fully aware of the lust he had for his queen.
Can he read my mind?
Hercules had seen many young men – some from other ships – receive the queen’s royal summons. He knew she desperately wanted a child above all else and was devastated when he, the mighty rangatira of her people, couldn’t give her what she wanted. Consequently, he’d long-since been banished from the marital bed-mat. Hercules knew the problem was not his for he’d fathered many children through his surrogate wives who were scattered all round the island. It had always been immensely damaging to his pride that so great a rangatira did not have any legitimate wives. He was from another island and local custom did not permit an outsider such as him to take a Tahitian wife. Although widely known that he had many children by other women, that could never be publicly acknowledged and that was a constant source of grief to him as he had no official successor.
The queen’s obsession with bedding younger men in her desperate attempts to conceive was another blow to Hercules’ esteem in the eyes of his people. It was as though she was trumpeting to one and all that she needed to be mounted by younger, more virile lovers. This had been noted far beyond Matavai Bay, and rival rangatiras and enemies alike had long-delighted in reminding him of it.
Hercules thought his queen had given up on her aspirations to have a child. As far as he knew, she hadn’t had relations with anyone since the Dolphin visited these shores. On that occasion, she’d enjoyed some wild nights of passion with a young lieutenant from that tall ship. The rangatira scowled at the memory, and Nicholas cringed involuntarily, thinking the scowl was meant for him.
After what seemed an eternity, Queen Obadia made her entrance. She was accompanied by an armed warrior and two servant girls. The warrior was carrying a flaming torch, which lit up the room to reveal the dwelling was similar to Nicholas’s own bure in its construction. That was where any similarity ended, however. Many times larger than his temporary quarters, its sandy floor was almost completely covered by a huge carpet that featured a woven image of the reigning French king, Louis XV. It evidently came from one of the French ships that visited Tahiti and was complemented by an original gold-framed portrait of the same monarch, which hung on one wall. The young visitor recognised King Louis immediately because he’d seen paintings of him before. Displayed as they were beneath the bure’s thatched roof, the combined effect of the carpet and the painting struck him as incongruous.
Nicholas’s attention was grabbed by a flash of light reflected from a sword hanging on the facing wall. At first he thought it was the sword presented to the rangatira by Cook, but closer scrutiny revealed it was Warrant Officer Wilkinson’s stolen ceremonial sword. It was still in its jewel-encrusted scabbard. He could only imagine what the officer would say when he learned his beloved sword occupied pride of place in the royal quarters.
Safer if I say nothing perhaps.
Nicholas forgot all about the sword when Queen Obadia stepped out of the shadows. Time stood still while he marvelled at the magnificent sight before him. The queen was even more stunning than he remembered.
As she had the first time he’d seen her, she let her exquisite almond eyes rest on his face. This time she held his gaze.
CHAPTER 13
Matavai Bay, Tahiti, May, 1769
Nicholas was drowning in his own desire beneath beautiful Queen Obadia’s all-knowing gaze as she approached. He feared he might collapse. His legs nearly gave way beneath him and he realised he was having trouble breathing…
>>> Continues next week.
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NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL is available via Amazon as a hardcover, paperback, audiobook and Kindle ebook… https://www.amazon.com/New-Zealand-Novel-Lance-Morcan/dp/0473728524/
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