PoraBora

Chapter Thirty-Two

"On your feet."

The warrior didn't wait for Akoni to stand. He dragged him by the arm and shoved him to the door.

It was over, then. The cannonades, the screaming, the explosions. Akoni stumbled out of the brig, which was larger than his quarters had been, and found his feet. His hands were bound behind him. Too bad. It would make it harder to do anything.

"Where are we going?" Akoni asked.

"Makaia has called for you."

To gloat, no doubt.

There was still a fire on the sea. One on land had been contained too late for four blocks of a market, and however many people had been trapped inside. Villagers were still being pulled from their hiding places and homes and brought to the anchor's park. Surrendered koa warriors were gathered separately, inside another hall, further into the city, which had a face like a trevally's mouth.

Boats drifted through the harbor like soak ships, sponging up the living and the dead and any materials that could be reused. Akoni was reminded it was not Makaia's first battle. Nor his last victory.

The whale shark was now being repaired in the center of Makaia's fleet. It had earned its name and renown, towering above the deck of Makaia's hammerhead and surrounded by the broken bodies of catamarans and men. How many lives to ensure it went undamaged? Had Makaia even considered?

Better it rest on the sea bed, split in half with the upper floors exposed to the waves, but what Makaia wanted, Makaia got.

Akoni had never been to Ila'i before. It was on the smaller end of the islands, an eighth the size of Henoue, if you included its harbor. Relative to its lands mass, Ila'i had control over a greater amount of the ocean, in terms of fishing, thanks to the threat of its three great ships, the whale shark, bat ray, and barracuda, keeping nearby Kehoa and Kehue in check.

Akoni had priced its oil high, despite the nagging of his Ila'i-hailing syphons. Mostly because of the distance-- the chief of Ila'i had not allowed a rig to be built within eyesight—but partly because he didn't want the whale shark fueled for an ambitious chief to see Aiwa, Ipukuia, and E'uela for the taking.

Like most southern islanders, he knew precisely two other things about the island: it had an overabundance of jungle fowl, and the chief was the youngest currently in power.

That was all it took, along with the whale shark, for Makaia to decide Ila'i was worth a detour.

Akoni could only wonder if it was the first.

He dropped onto the deck still in his full uniform. He was happy for it, and happier for the bonds. He didn't have to worry about the rigs being seen as complying. Not that they were his any longer.

The dock was mostly made of sheet metal, with crossing bars beneath to hold it up, and his first steps brought him back to the rig.

They were in a similar state. Makaia's hammerhead had rammed it to pieces in its docking. Only a handful of warriors didn't charge out of the mouth, left to defend the ship. They had done a satisfying job, because Akoni and his syphons were still alive.

No hidden koa warriors crawled out from the water to pierce him with their steel-headed spears. Akoni knew he couldn't be too careful. It might have appeared to be a rout, but victories in his experience had a way of suddenly falling from your grasp. Perhaps because he had been the one to win them, and not Makaia.

Akoni kept his eyes wary of every corner and shadow. He half-expected Makaia's own men to have orders to murder him. One more unfortunate casualty of the battle for Ila'i. If it was their plan, they weren't in a rush.