“Live to fight another day,” Areta soothed. But she was bothered by Karuhiruhi’s obvious tiredness and despondency. With foresight she realised the psychic diminution which had come upon him since Kawanatanga had turned up. Her husband’s star was in the descendancy, and Areta suspected Karuhiruhi knew it. Visibly aged by his conscience, his mana had been tested in battle, and for the second time he had not come up to the mark. Kawanatanga’s mana, on the other hand, was on the rise. Not only that, but Areta had seen the lustful way Kawanatanga looked upon her and had felt her own passions responding. Perhaps it was time to consider, she mused, the artful and political business of changing birds, of using her feminine wiles to ensure that in the changeover she still maintained her position.
So it was that when Kawanatanga whirled down the corridors seeking the place where his ancestor had taken refuge, Areta had already placed herself on the perimeter of the nursery.
“Do not include me in any revenge you are about to enact,” she said. She gave him a sideward glance, hinting that she was prepared to consider other offers.
“You fool,” Kawanatanga raged when he confronted Karuhiruhi. “Do you realise how humiliating your running away was?”
“Don’t touch me,” Karuhiruhi answered, grabbing his son as if he was a shield. “From my child’s loins will come the line from which you are descended.”
Kawanatanga sighed. “Put the child down,” he said. “Don’t cringe before me. How do you think it makes me feel to see you hiding behind your child? The weapon that was fired against you was a shotgun, nothing more, nothing to do with the Lord Tane. Nor will it be of any use to the landbirds again, now that we know they have it. Should they fire it again, we will keep out of its range —”
Karuhiruhi heard a noise in the corridor. Areta was there, and with her were Karoro, Taranui and Parara. He realised he was without allies or friends. “How was I to know?” he whimpered. “I am ignorant of the marvellous magic that comes from the future. When it happened, what was I to think?”
Karuhiruhi hugged his son closer. But Areta made her move. She came across the floor and soothed her husband. “Give me our son, Lord,” she said.
Nodding, Karuhiruhi delivered the child into her arms. When she had him, Areta slipped past Kawanatanga, accidentally caressing his loins as she did so and giving him the glad eye. “Make it quick,” she said enigmatically.
Karuhiruhi began to sob. Kawanatanga walked towards him and took him in his arms. He was surprised at how small Karuhiruhi was. Small, ineffectual, a harmless bag of bones. “What am I to do with you, my ancestor?” he said. “All my life I grew up hearing of your great deeds. None of it is true, is it? All of it is lies. Ah well, you did your best —”
He turned quickly and kissed Karuhiruhi on the forehead. “He aha ma te rora. What use is a coward to anyone? There can be only one leader here —”
With a quick movement Kawanatanga slashed at Karuhiruhi’s jugular, and pulled. Areta watched, horrified. Her son squirmed in her arms.
“You are weak, my ancestor,” Kawanatanga said. “I must take over from you, can’t you see that?” He listened to Karuhiruhi’s death rattle, his chest heaving. Then Kawanatanga stabbed at the old bird’s breast and ripped out his heart. The blood spurted out in fast jets. Kawanatanga arched his throat, flipped the heart out of its cavity and swallowed it whole. The blood spilled out of Kawanatanga’s mouth.
Kawanatanga called Karoro, Taranui and Parara forward. “Tell the army that my beloved ancestor Karuhiruhi is dead. His consort and I are taking an appropriate hour to mourn his death. After that we will resume the battle. This time there will be no retreat.” He smiled across at Areta. “Put the child to bed, my lady,” he said. “Attend to me, for you are mine now.”
It was Chieftain Ruru, who had maintained warrior scouts over the sea, who reported the developments at the late Karuhiruhi’s island fortress.
“Kawanatanga has taken over leadership of the seabirds,” he said.
Up to that moment, Chieftain Tui had been leading the landbirds in a celebration of victory, and this time he had made appropriate thanks to Lord Tane. He realised the import of Ruru’s words and, alarmed, flew to the highest branch of the paepae. He raised his wings for silence. “We have had grave news,” he reported. “Our intelligence tells us Kawanatanga has murdered his ancestor and taken his widow as wife. Our celebrations are premature. The war is not over yet.”
“You worry too much,” Chieftain Kawau said. “I haven’t even been touched in the fighting so far.”
“He koura koia, kia whero wawe?” Tui asked. “Are you a crayfish that you turn red so quickly? Do not assume that just because we won this morning the same will be the case this afternoon. We won the battle, but we have not won the war.”
Te Arikinui Kotuku agreed. “Are you always so smug, Kawau?” she asked.
Kawau took even greater offence, and very soon a squabble developed. The raised voices escalated.
“Do something,” Skylark said to Arnie.
Arnie quickly took the paepae. “It is a proper thing,” he said, “to debate the news of Kawanatanga’s plans, but let us not fight each other. We must retain our solidarity. If we don’t, we will lose focus on winning the war. On that count, I agree with Chieftain Tui. A first win does not mean a final victory. It’s not a done deal.”
“Ka tika, ka tika,” the landbirds agreed.
“Nor should anyone think,” Arnie continued, “that the next battle will be easier than the last. The next time we’ll be fighting the birds from the future and Kawanatanga himself. They have strengths and strategies you haven’t even dreamed of. They will stop at nothing to win. All must be prepared to fight to the death.”
Chieftain Tui took command again. “In that case, tend to your wounded,” he said to the manu whenua. “Get some rest. Eat. We have gained a breathing space, so let’s enjoy it while we can. It is as like a lull in a rainstorm.”
The celebrations broke up. Skylark watched as Arnie spoke with Tui, Kahu, Ruru and Kawau on preparations for facing Kawanatanga. There was much nodding and shaking of wings — and then Arnie’s head came up as if he was looking for somebody.
“I think you’re wanted,” Kotuku hinted.
“Me? What for?”
Kotuku gave a secretive smile. She saw Arnie’s gaze light on Skylark, the broad grin of relief and happiness that flooded his face, and his eager flight to join her. However, halfway across to her, the beautiful Kahurangi somehow blundered into Arnie’s flight path and fell, prettily, to the ground.
“The brazen hussy,” Kotuku said to herself as Kahurangi accepted Arnie’s wing, helping her up. However, Kotuku’s irritation turned to glee when Arnie, unaware of Kahurangi’s obvious wiles, simply said to her, “See ya.” Either the boy had common sense or was blind or incredibly dumb. Whatever, Kotuku was very happy to see him approach Skylark.
“I think I’ll leave you two alone,” she whispered.
“Let’s get out of here,” Arnie said as soon as he reached Skylark’s side. “I need a break. Do you want to go for a walk by the lake?”
“Are you sure? You can go with her —” Skylark indicated the scowling Kahurangi — “if you want to.”
“Who? No, it’s you I want to talk to. Come on.” Skylark shrugged her wings and followed. For a while, they picked their way around the mossy edge.
“I’m parched,” Arnie continued. “Feel like a drink?”
Together they hopped towards the water, put their beaks into it, and drank. Skylark went to take a second sip, and for a moment was confronted with her reflection. She had been expecting her own face — and Arnie’s — to stare back. She couldn’t help it. She burst into a peal of laughter.