Chapter Fifteen: Kono

Hepthys was in the bay. The bay, in front of the village, in full view of everyone. Kono couldn’t quite believe it, but he was pleased. She wasn’t even being stared at. Maybe the ceremony had gotten everyone a chance to look at the girl with the sails on her back, and they saw that, despite being small, she was basically normal. Only a few children watched her, but it was with the playful look of one who wanted to make friends rather than the hysterical expression of a confused child.

“Hey, sky-girl,” Kono called as he came up the beach.

Hepthys turned and waved. She was knee deep in the water, and didn’t look scared at all. She’d come a long way. Kono bounded in to join her.

“Goin’ swimmin’?” he asked her.

“I was thinking about it.” She wiped a hand over her brow. Every bit of exposed skin on her was beaded with sweat.

“You know, you don’t have to wear so much,” Kono said with amusement. The nations dressed pretty heavily in his opinion. Atum-Ra might not be part of the nations, but they evidently had some similarities.

“I’m barely dressed,” Hepthys protested. Her cheeks glowed. It was the least Kono had seen her wear: a sleeveless top and a pair of breeches that only just made it to her thighs.

“You could take the top part off. That help some.”

“I can’t!”

Kono had to laugh with how shocked she sounded. “Sure you can. Look around.” Kono gestured. Everyone in the bay was topless, and many were entirely nude.

“I have,” Hepthys said. “And it’s not entirely a bad thing.”

Kono found that both of their gazes were lingering on Pua’ku. She wasn’t too far down the beach, washing her muscled form in the saltwater. It was times like these he wished they’d gotten along better. At least for a night.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “You got nothin’ to worry about, sky-girl.”

“Where I’m from, we don’t...do that. Nudity is private.”

“That’s silly,” Kono said, sitting down in the water. “When I’m hot, I get naked.”

Hepthys shook her head. “It’s different in Atum-Ra.”

“Yeah, the wings kinda a big clue.”

Hepthys smiled. “How about we go swimming?”

“Now you talking.”

Kono spent the next several hours continuing Hepthys’s lessons. She took to it fairly well, despite her advanced age. He had the impression she was good at picking up nearly any physical skill. Kono had to get used to the idea of anyone having to learn to swim, but once over that, he merely imitated what parents did with small children. He didn’t use the baby talk, though. He had the hunch it might get him punched.

The first boat came in when the sun was at its zenith. The sail was open, and two women and a man rowed it into the bay. Another boat followed, then another. The men, women, and mawi got out, greeted the people on the shore, and headed for the chief’s lodge. A few glanced over at Hepthys, and the winged girl shrank under their curious gazes.

“Pua’ui,” Kono said. Hepthys probably didn’t care, but he wanted to take her mind off the looks. She was blooming at Kamo’loa. He didn’t want to see her fold up again. “Close tribe, sendin’ people for the fight. Means we gonna get more people comin’ in over the next few days.”

“And then?”

“An’ then we go to Mele, send that warjunk home or to the gods.”

Hepthys nodded, watching the group of warriors and ma’hanu walk up the path. The warriors carried their weapons, spears and clubs, with obsidian knives on their belts. The ma’hanu were extensively tattooed. These were the eldest and most experienced.

“How many tribes will respond?” Hepthys asked.

“All of ‘em that hear in time,” Kono said. “It’s the most sacred law we got down here. Well, ‘cept keepin’ the gods asleep.”

“Which was the ceremony the other night.”

Kono nodded. “Gods wake up, that’s it. All of it goes away. But the nations, they like the gods. Both cruel like a fire. Eats everything up until there’s nothin’ left. So one tribe sees a warjunk, we all come sailin’.”

“It makes good sense. Does it happen often?”

“If you count everybody goin’ to and fro, sure. But I only remember one time they come to Kamo’loa. It’s exciting, but not a good kind. Seein’ the other warriors, other ma’hanu. When it’s all over, we have another feast, an’ that’s fun.”

“Will I get a spear?”

Kono blanched. “What?”

“A spear.” Hepthys nodded at the warriors. The fighting-spears were about the height of an islander’s shoulder with an obsidian blade lashed to the end. The blade would be razor-sharp for the duration of a single combat, and then replaced. It cut through flesh like paper, but if it struck nation bronze, it would shatter.

“I guess,” Kono said.

“What’s wrong?”

Kono shrugged. “You really want to go?”

“Of course. I need to get my ship. I thought I was clear on that. I thought you’d be tired of hearing it.”

“I understand, I think.” Kono felt the pressure of Hepthys’s attention on him and cleared his throat. “You want a spear, I can make you one.”

“You can?”

“Sure, it’s no problem.”

He didn’t want to think about going back to Mele. That would just be blood and fighting, and he had no stomach for that kind of thing. Let the warriors and the other ma’hanu do it. Someone else had to stay here and look after the place. Doing not much of anything was a lot of hard work.

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He got up and glanced over at Pua’ku. She was watching the arriving warriors as well, passing one tattooed hand through her short hair. She stared at the new arrivals with a mixture of admiration and fascination. It was the same look Hepthys had when she’d asked about the spear.

Finally Pua’ku followed, picking up her kilt from the shore where she’d left it, slinging it over her shoulder. She stopped outside the chief’s lodge with a few other of the young ones, all itching for a fight.

“C’mon,” Kono said.

Hepthys watched Pua’ku and the others wistfully, and followed Kono to the ma’hanu lodge. Kono jogged up the steps and went inside, finding his hammock and few possessions where he’d left them.

Hapua the Elder sat in in the center of the room, legs crossed, back straight, and eyes closed.

“Come to tell me the first of the tribes have arrived?”

“Uh, yes!” Kono said, after fishing out his obsidian core and knapping rocks.

“How many did Pua’ui send?”

Kono thought about it.

“Twenty-three,” Hepthys said promptly. “Four ma’hanu, and the rest warriors.”

Hapua opened his right eye briefly. “Could be more.”

“Could be more on the way?” Kono said.

“And now you’re making a spear for your little friend,” Hapua said. “Good use of your time, that. Now leave me alone. I’m communin’.”

Kono scampered out, his tools in hand. He walked a short distance away from the lodge and sat down with his back against a palm tree, the tools on the grassy earth before him. He had a good view of the chief’s lodge and the gathering crowd outside of it. Between the distance and the wind whipping off the ocean, though, he could hear nothing.

Hepthys sat beside him. “No, you need to get me a shaft. Pick somethin’ you like as a height, then...” he cast about, then nodded at a stone axe sitting on a tree trunk. “Use that axe there.”

“Whose is it?”

Kono shrugged. “Long as you bring it back no worse than you took it, who cares?”

Hepthys picked up the axe. Her shoulder muscles danced with this new burden, but she handled it well. She walked into the nearby jungle to hunt herself a shaft.

Kono picked up his hammer rock, silvery-gray and blunted from his time using it. He took the obsidian core in his left hand and gave it a sharp, inward rap. A flake, thick at one edge and tapering to a point on the other, slid off. Kono began to shape it with precise hits, drawing the obsidian to a leaflike point. At the edges, the volcanic glass was nearly transparent. In the center, it was blacker than night.

Hepthys came out of the trees holding a haft of wood a bit taller than herself. She replaced the axe and sat down next to Kono. He handed her the spear blade.

“Careful. That’ll cut you.”

She inspected the edge. “This is sharper than anything I’ve ever seen.”

Kono nodded. “Why we use it for this stuff.”

Hepthys pinched the blade between thumb and forefingers and moved it experimentally “Cuts through the air.”

“Hand me the shaft.”

Hepthys put the obsidian blade down and handed the branch to Kono. The big ma’hanu picked it up and turned it over in his hands, nodding to himself. “Not bad, not bad.” He reached into his bag and removed a stone blade, hafted in wood, like something between a knife and a saw. He then proceeded to smooth out the shaft, denuding it of bark and branches. He was no weaponsmith, but he could do well enough for something simple for Hepthys.

“Have you gone to battle before?” Hepthys asked.

“Nope. Too young.”

“So this would be your first.”

Kono nodded, hiding the faint shudder passing through his form. He forced a smile. Not even Hepthys, who would be leaving soon, should see any cracks in the cheerful façade.

“Mine too.”

Kono turned, and raised an eyebrow. “Thought the way you talked you was a warrior. Same as them.” He gestured with the tool before turning back to his sculpting.

“Trained for it.”

“The Kheremun.”

“You listened.”

Kono grinned. “Of course.”

“I’m supposed to…I want to join them, but we have...” she fumbled. Kono was getting used to this: the sky-girl looking for something he could understand. Whenever she did this, he placed Atum-Ra another sunset distant. “Like your ma’hanu school.”

“Kheremun are like ma’hanu.”

“Sort of. Different purposes, but I suppose each are the elites.”

“Gotta train. Same with us, only some are born to it. Same way some got a talent for art, for fishing, for farming. Talent only take you so far, or so Hapua says.”

“Right. My mother…”

“Is Kheremun.” Whenever Hepthys mentioned her mother, she seemed suddenly smaller, looking up at a figure that wasn’t there.

“Right.” Hepthys’s shoulders fell. “My family, all the way back to my ancestor Khafra baht-Djeket have been. So I was trained. I know how to fight, but I’ve never been in a real one.”

“Never?”

He watched her eyes go far away with a memory. “Some of the trainings are pretty real-seeming. Our Mistress-at-Arms was fond of saying that she did us no favors unless we were scared for our lives.”

“Bet that worked.”

“I don’t know,” Hepthys said. She let out a short, brittle laugh. “Back then I never would have thought about it. It’s different here.”

“How?”

“These weapons,” she said, picking up the black blade in her hand. “And the ones the pirates use. So brutal. Real.”

Atum-Ra moved another sunset away. It was already much farther than he could imagine.

“Scared?” he asked, hoping she would say yes. Then he could say he was too.

“No!” she said, too forcefully. Then, quieter, “No—nervous. I feel like I have a whole class of fledglings in my belly, all fluttering around on new wings.”

“I know that feeling,” Kono said.

In the center of the village, the Pua’ui visitors emerged from the chief’s lodge with Ali’kai. The chief’s son looked so self-assured. Proud, like sunlight in human form. Not the slightest quiver of nerves shook him. Kono wished he could be as confident, as ready for what was coming tomorrow.

Ali’kai escorted the Pua’ui to the visitor’s lodge, a structure standing on a small plateau just above the largest orchard in the village. A place of honor for those other tribes who came to help. Every village would have a spot like that. Kono couldn’t help but picture them. Wonder how many he would see in his lifetime. Every time they were used, it meant the nations had come down for another of their rampant campaigns of hate.

Kono used the axe to notch the end of the shaft. He took out a rind filled with red-black resin and daubed a bit of that in the crevice.

“Blade please,” he said.

“Huh?” Hepthys jumped. She’d been woolgathering, or possibly staring at Pua’ku.

Hepthys handed over the blade, and Kono fitted it into the notch, pressing it against the resin. He uncoiled a little braided vine and wrapped the back end of the blade and the front of the shaft. He tightened it, tied it off and tucked it into the wrapping. He inspected the work.

“What you think?” he asked handing it over.

Hepthys accepted it, bracing the butt against the ground and using it to stand. Kono winced, reflexively convinced his handiwork would shatter. Better know it now than in battle, he supposed. The thought of battle turned his stomach again.

Hepthys spun the spear cautiously in her hands. As it didn’t fly apart into pieces, she began to spin it more rapidly. The spear disappeared into a blurring hum as it traveled between the sky-girl’s hands. With a sudden step forward and a sharp cry, Hepthys stepped forward, bringing the spear up in a quick strike. She held the pose only for a second, then it was a blur again. She came to a stop in another position, this time straightened, one foot off the ground, the spear striking behind her. Then she was moving again. Kono began to get the idea her movements were ritualized. This was her combat drill she had learned in her ma’hanu school, some way of turning the art of spear-fighting into a memorizable set of motions.

The Kamo’loa, or any of the tribes, had nothing of the like. Children learned to fight with each other, either using sticks, soft leaves, or wrestling. The closest thing to a true fighting discipline was a form of wrestling, and the non-lethal aspects were always emphasized. It was for solving problems without bloodshed. Fighting, true fighting, was only needed when the nations were involved.

“How you like it?”

“It’s good!” Hepthys said, coming to a stop. The spear nestled in the crook of her armpit, her posture saying she had used this grip many times. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help you.”

“So what now?” she asked.

“Once the chief thinks we got enough, we have our Council. Then…we go to Mele.” He put that out of his mind as best he could. It was in the distant future, or might as well be.

“Good.”

“You’ll get your ship back soon, sky-girl. Then you off home.”

He expected her to break into a smile, flushed and excited as she was with her new weapon. Instead, her countenance fell for just a second, to be replaced by a nod and a false smile. “I guess I will be.”

Kono knew she wouldn’t answer if he asked, but he still wondered what he was missing.