In the Land of the Long White Cloud

furnished the room for her. Although the playful lace curtains and the delicate furniture were not really Gwyneira’s style, she kept them as mementos of her husband.
    Lucas Warden must have been a strange man. Only now did James realize how little he had known him and how close the shepherds’ mean-spirited remarks had come to the truth. But something in Gwyneira had really loved Lucas, or at least respected him. And Fleurette’s memories of her would-be father were also full of warmth. James began to feel regret and sympathy for Lucas. He had been a good, if also a weak man, born in the wrong place at the wrong time.
    James directed his horse toward the Maori village on the lake. He could have gone on foot, but he was here on an official mission, as Gwyneira’s negotiator, so to speak, and felt safer—and above all, more important—on the four-legged status symbol of the
pakeha
. Besides, he liked the horse. Fleurette had given it to him: it was the son of her mare Niniane with a riding horse of Arab lineage.
    McKenzie had been expecting to run into a blockade between Kiward Station and the Maori village. After all, Leonard McDunn had reported something to that effect, and Gwyneira was also aggravated by their attempts to cut her off from the road to Haldon.
    James, however, entered the village unmolested. He was just passing the first buildings, and the great meeting hall was coming into view. But the mood in the camp was decidedly strange.
    There was none of the antagonistic defensiveness and defiance that Gwyneira, but also Andy McAran and Poker Livingston, had spoken of. Most surprisingly, there was no sense of triumph over the governor’s decision. Instead, James got the sense that they were tensely waiting for something. People did not crowd around him, amiably looking to chat as they had during his previous visits to the village, nor did they seem threatening. Though he did see the occasional man with warrior tattoos, they all wore shirts and pants, rather than traditional outfits and spears. A few women were taking care of the daily chores, trying hard not to make eye contact with the visitor.
    Finally Kiri stepped out of one of the houses.
    “Mr. James. I hear you here again,” she said formally. “That is great joy for miss.”
    James smiled. He had always suspected that Kiri and Moana knew the truth.
    But Kiri did not return his smile. Instead, she looked up at James earnestly as she began to speak again. She chose her words with care, almost caution. “And I want to say…I’m sorry. Moana also sorry and Witi. If peace now, we happy to come back to house. And we forgive Paul. He changed, Marama says. Good man. For me good son.”
    James nodded. “That’s nice, Kiri. For Paul too. Mrs. Warden hopes he’ll come back soon.” He was surprised when Kiri turned away.
    No one else spoke to him until James reached the chief’s lodge. He dismounted. He was sure Tonga must have heard of his arrival, but the young chief was apparently going to make him beg.
    James raised his voice. “Tonga! We need to talk. Mrs. Warden has received word from the governor. She would like to negotiate.”
    Tonga stepped slowly out of his lodge. He was wearing the outfit and tattoos of a warrior but not carrying a spear. Instead, he held the Sacred Ax of the chieftain. James recognized the traces of a brawl on his face. Was the young chief’s position no longer definitive? Did he have rivals within his own tribe?
    James held out his hand to him, but Tonga did not take it.
    James shrugged. OK then. In his eyes Tonga was behaving like a child, but what else could you expect from such a young man? James decided not to play his game and to remain polite no matter what. Perhaps he could appeal to the man’s sense of honor.
    “Tonga, you are very young and yet already chief. That means your people regard you as a reasonable man. Mrs. O’Keefe also thinks highly of you, and what you’ve achieved with the governor is remarkable. You’ve shown courage and tenacity. But now we must come to an agreement. Since Mr. Warden isn’t here, Mrs. Warden will negotiate in his stead. And she vows that he will stand behind whatever she agrees to. He will have to. After all, the governor has given his decision. So end this war, Tonga! For the sake of your own people as well.” James held his hands out to the side. He was unarmed. Tonga must see that he came in peace.
    The young chief stood up even straighter in his already tall