Shadowed by Moonlight (SAMPLE)

Chapter 3.c

I knelt behind the hut and threw a hand over my mouth to muffle my labored breathing. Grateful that the curtains were pulled down, I crouched where my shadow wouldn't be seen and listened.

"I worry about that boy of yours, Alai," high chief Moe was saying, "He seems to lack the competence to do anything."

"He's still young," my father said, "He'll have years of training before he officially takes over. By then he'll be ready to be a high chief."

"That may be, but shouldn't he at least show some potential?" asked high chiefess Manaia, "All due respect, Alai, what has your son done to prove he is worthy of his title?"

"He..." my father started.

I squatted there with bated breath. None of the chiefs were saying anything now. I waited for one of them to speak up on my behalf, to defend my right to rule. At the very least, I knew my father would say something.

Go on, Father, I thought, Tell them. Tell them why I deserve to be chief.

But a weighted silence was my only reply.

High chief Senidra spoke up, "I cannot speak for his leadership, as I've never seen him govern, but his combat skills leave much to be desired. Were he to lead an army the Light Village would perish. Alani could train him, of course. But I fear he would be graying before he actually understood any of it."

I bit my tongue to keep from crying out. Did high chief Senidra suggest that Alani should train me? I couldn't remember a time I'd felt more insulted.

"I saw his so-called leadership today," cut in Tāwhiri's mom, "Believe me, it was pathetic. He spent more time trying to find places where his sister hadn't been than he did trying to help his people."

Her words came as a slap. That's not what happened! And if it was, what would the high chiefess know about it? It wasn't my fault that Masina just happened to be one step ahead of me all the time.

Come on, Dad, I silently pleaded, Tell them.

"He's quite knowledgeable about plants," said Puana's mother, "He seemed confident in the healer's hut today."

"But then why didn't he stay and let Alani finish the walk-through?" another high chief objected, "A good leader should know when it's time to delegate."

Grudgingly, I had to admit they had a point. Why didn't I ask Alani to finish? That would have made more sense since she knew what to look for in the aftermath of a battle.

"I heard he was angry Masina picked the red-heart leaves before he could," high chief Manoa growled, "Rather than be happy my son would live, he wallowed in self-pity because he hadn't been the one to save him. Apparently he would've preferred Koa suffered a little longer, came closer to death to make the rescue all the more dramatic."

The complaints started rolling out after that, each one crushing me like the surf at high tide.

"He didn't even fight when the demons came."

"Where was he when we were preparing the feast?"

"Did you see his face when Masina dedicated her night to him?"

"Ungrateful brat."

"The boy is useless."

On and on it went. Toa was hopeless. Toa couldn't do anything. Toa brought shame to his family name. But worse, what hurt worse than all of that was my father not saying anything. He couldn't disagree with them because he thought they were right.

"That's enough," he said finally. His tone wasn't loud, but the effects were immediate. The words stopped as though they'd been sliced in half.

I could hardly breathe. A lump welled in my throat and I felt the shame burning in my eyes. I always knew nobody thought I could be chief; nobody thought that I should be chief. And while I had always suspected my father had been the same, hearing the confirmation rattled me. No one, not even my father, thought I could do this.