Chapter 3 The Tragedy of Macquesemis

Wits and might are far too irrelevant to be deliverance for anyone. Moreover, it takes more than human discretion to survive in this part of the world. It is a tragedy to remain in a world you cannot control and all the more tragic if you do not have control over your own life. People who have surrendered leadership of their lives to others are always at the mercy of those they serve. Such was the tale of Macquesemis. It was a lazy sunset. Old Phil stoked the fire as the boy watched the warthog roast. The thatch roof had courageously withstood the heat of the day. As smoke went up high to rest on the bosom of the fair weather, Old Phil scrubbed ashes off the animal and broke the long silence that hung between them. He cleared his throat. “Boy, what brings you here?” he asked quietly. “The King’s order. I was wrongly accused.” “Oh, I understand. All criminals are innocent until the day they are caught. Please, do not feel offended for what I have just said. Or do you have any evidence to prove your innocence?” “Yes, I have. The arrow I shot only struck a tree and I saw it. The next day, I was summoned to the palace to meet the King—who had been basking in the euphoria of palace life, and was accused of murder.” Phil dropped the carved wood scraper that he had been using against the carcass. “It happens everywhere. People sometimes pay for what they do not know about. Nevertheless, I will be the last person to vouch for a hunter. His shot could go anywhere. Most especially in the forest, it could bring you a fine meal or usher a prince into silence. In hunting, shots go where we never directed them. The arrow may have struck a tree or it could have strayed away. So the King could be right.” “No. I saw it hit the tree.” “Then how did people find it in the body of a man?” “That’s a mystery. I still don’t understand how it got there.” “It’s no mystery. It was just a silly mistake that cost you your freedom. Although, I am not a diviner, maybe I would have been able to tell how your arrow ended where it did. However, mistakes make our world go round. When we learn from our mistakes, it makes us richer in experience. I would have gone for my arrow if it had struck a tree. If you have done that, you will not have found yourself here. That is the bitter truth, boy.” Nihu heaved a sigh of relief. “You are right. My youthfulness was my undoing. I was not wise. I should have gone for the arrow.” His countenance fell as he sat back against the tree behind him then added, “What brings you here?” Old Phil took a deep breath and replied, “My ordeal is an adventure I would have avoided if I had not been bewitched by arrogance. That was my downfall until my mid-thirties. My experiences over the years have helped me become a better man. I had a good friend, called Macquesemis, Macques for short. He was a man of innocence, and had a large farm in the countryside. He was blessed far more than his contemporaries were, including me. Women, whose beauty can throw men off their feet, flocked around him. One day, thieves visited his rich farmland and made away with what he had in his store. As for Macques, they tied him to a tree and left him with nothing. “As they were leaving, he heard one of the thieves saying they should head southward to consume the loot. Eventually, one of his servants set him free. That terrible day, I visited him and when I heard the misfortune that had befallen my friend, I was moved with compassion. A kind of wicked anger came over me and I was bound to avenge my rich friend, for I had benefited greatly from his generosity over the years. “I joined the party that organized to go to the south to recover the loot. Before the sunset, we set out for the journey, riding hard on our horses. My anger was already reaching the high heavens. Macques is a friend for whom I can fight with my last ounce of strength. We picked up the bandits who had yet to reach the mountains. If they had gone up, it would have been almost impossible to find them or recover the goods of my dear friend. The mountains are full of caves. Most thieves I have run aground when I was a soldier have a cave or two where they keep their loot. However, they were by the wayside, making merry, thinking that no one would come for them. While they were dancing happily round what they had stolen, we fell on them like jungle raindrops pelting a window. “Macques and I were ex-service men. We have seen the horror of warring and the victory of survival. We know the rules of the game, which in our army states when you find your enemy hit him hard and harder until you can no longer find his shadow. So, we fell on them massively and fought like Trojans all day long. Our men were falling like primitive people that fall stone dead at the blast of muskets. The rule in our army says save yourself first before you help another man. That was why I stood my ground, and fought for my safety, not to lose my neck while trying to save another man when not in the best position to do so. “In the end, Macques and I were the only people that survived from our camp. People trained to work the farm, were all lying dead on the plain. Some faced the sky like happy people, while others had their faces buried in the red Earth as if they were paying homage to a powerful god above. “The bandits also suffered loss. My sword made mincemeat out of the soldiers that came against me. Macques’ big belly did not hinder him from throwing himself here and there like a wildcat. They fell like leaves before us until there was just one man left alive. Their leader was a man whose long hair almost reached his shoulders with two incredibly large eyes sitting on his sun-tanned face. He was covered in grime and sweat and had bloodstains on his animal skin coat. Blood of our men that he had crushed with an iron axe held in an iron grip. “I pounced and hurled a blow that could sink the Titanic. However, I missed because he dodged, and I almost lost my balance. Were he to have lashed out at me with his axe, it would have spelt doom for a one-time war veteran like me. My heart jumped into my mouth, but Macques was there. As I regained my footing, I called to Macques to stay away, that I could handle the foul toad that had much height to his advantage. “As I got up to face him, the devil gave me a blow that cut through my helmet to my head. It hit me like a sledgehammer. Nevertheless, as a soldier, I intended to punish him dearly. I fought back gallantly in the pool of my own blood for it was the only way I could remain alive. My next blow felled the iron axe from the devil’s hand. He yelled as if he had just lost a vital part of himself. The axe fell too far away for him to recover it quickly. I also had my axe displaced in the process. Since we could pick up our weapons, we faced each other like wrestlers in the old tradition that ultimately determines who is the strongest man in the local district. He roared like an old wounded lion. I beat my chest for I was ready to give his remains to the bald vultures that were already waiting patiently for the dust to settle so that they could begin their feast. We fell upon one another and although not properly trained to fight without weapons, I could cope in the game of body slamming. The leader of the thieves was a brawny brute and got the upper hand as we traded punches. The ballistic missiles he threw, none would survive. As they rained down, I would whine like a miserable dog that has just been robbed of ears and tail. “Soon we could no longer cope with our hands. Mine dangled as if I had lost total control of my arms. We began to stagger here and there. Bleeding and losing strength, I sought a means to break the deadlock. At any moment, he could throw a lucky punch that could mark my end. I remembered my knife and drew it from my boot, stabbing the hard fighter in the chest. He yelled up to high heaven and tried to bite, but I fought gallantly out of his dreadful grip. As he fought to remove the knife, I limped to my axe and exacted a mighty heave that zapped off his head. I had no strength left in me. “I was breathing like an antelope that had escaped the attack of a predator when the King’s guards arrived. They must have been informed of the bloody battle in that part of the local district. They arrested Macques and me and detained us for many days in the King’s stockade. “After this investigation, the King ordered us to his palace saying that we were guilty of murder. We had taken the law into our hands instead of informing him so that his army could have arrested the gang of thieves. My belongings and that of Macques, including his large farm were seized. We lost all we had inherited from the army retirement. We were given the choice of banishment or execution. But we chose to be banished, hoping that we could still find a better tomorrow after we had have served our punishment in this Lonely Forest.” Old Phil paused at last after the long oratory. “That’s quite a story. So where is Macques?” Nihu was transfixed. “That man of innocence. Old Macques was an encourager, bold and manly.” He pointed to the coat he was wearing, “I made this coat out of a deer he killed. It is quite good clothing. I have had it for over a year. My old friend died a few days ago. A mamba snake bit him when he was felling a tree. So I buried him at the foot of the tree behind you.” “Why the foot of a tree? You should have buried him in the field as is the tradition in the countryside.” “That way is not befitting for Macques. He had been a hard worker who had taken many hits all his life. I wanted the cool breeze and the shelter of a serene world to blow over his grave. Maybe that would send him comfort anywhere he is. Because he died in great pains, I made a befitting rest for him so that his ghost will be happy.” “It is unfortunate he died. Do you not grieve? Since you loved him so much, I would have expected you to have done that.” “There is no call for grief. You find no cure for ailments here. This place is death. I do not know when I will meet my maker, but I know he is coming.” “I pray we survive.” “I am sure of it. I have just a few days left to spend in this Lonely Forest. I would have been so happy if I had made it to the end of my time here with Macques. But now, I will be starting my public life all alone if I make it to the countryside in the next weekend.” Nihu’s face fell. “So you mean I will be here all alone?” “Are you not man enough? You have no choice, my boy. Since Macques’ death, I have been living alone. You can too. If you were wrongly accused as you claim, the Almighty will surely protect your life.” Nihu pondered that. “When you get to the countryside again, will you marry?” “That’s the least of my worries. I have many things I must do. I must find a job, perhaps as a gardener, to keep my mind busy and forget the ugly past. That does not mean I will not have anything to do with women. I prefer to make concubines out of women rather than keep in the lap of a woman all the rest of my life.” Nihu quieted at last as Old Phil took up the wood scraper he had dropped at the beginning of his reminiscence and continued to scrub the roasting meat. At last, the meal was ready. “I love this warthog, Nihu,” Phil remarked. “It tastes like flesh of mutton, doesn’t it?” What Old Phil said was ignored because Nihu’s attention was on a creature a few poles away. When he realized the boy was not listening to him, Phil tapped him in the shoulder and said, “What is it? What are you looking at?” “Look there!” Nihu pointed. “I saw a dwarf holding a mat over there!” Old Phil raised his eyes in the direction and did not see anything. “I didn’t see the monument you said was standing out there. On the other hand, has he gone for shopping in the village square? Let us keep our fingers crossed. Maybe he will be back soon.” He grinned. “Believe me. I saw a dwarf standing near that oak tree.” “I do not doubt your ability to see beyond your nose. However, where is the creature you claimed was standing near a tree? Oh, maybe the devil is playing hide and seek game and wants us to be part of the fun.” He chuckled and turned back to the roasted warthog. The tasty supper was reviving his spirits. “You don’t believe.” “If I tell you I do not believe, we must go on arguing about a creature that cannot prove or disprove his existence. And if I tell you I saw the dwarf, then I am not sincere, because all I see is darkness.” “The creature disappeared the moment I saw him.” Old Phil took a deep breath and said, “If what you say is so then you must have seen one of the Agbere demons that roam the forest. They are nomadic dwarfs. They have no home, no shelter and no place of their own. Whenever evening rolls in they roll out their mats and pass the night wherever they happen to be.” “He was too far away. I could not see if he was hairy or not. The mat he held was considerably small. He had nothing else with him. Apart from the animal skin around his waist, he had nothing on.” “Don’t look down on that dwarf. What he’s got is enough to make you smile all your life.” “What does he have?” “That mat of his is priceless. It’s worth more than a sack of diamonds and can be used to produce charms.” “You mean it?” “Of course. If it were not dark, I would have suggested we go after him. If we get that mat, whatsoever we want, will come like a flood. All you need do is sitting on the mat and make your wish or request.” “Then the darkness can not hinder us from getting that mat. If I get it, I’ll wish not to remain in this forest anymore.” “Such a wish is worth it. Anyone trapped here would do likewise. But what if as we try to collect the mat, the dwarf pounced on us? Our survival would depend on which way the wind blows. We either wait for providence or the cruel hand of fate to take its toll.” “I don’t think it’s going to cost us our lives.” “Boy, what an old man would see while seated, a younger man standing would never see. Put your rashness behind and be logical. If we were barely able to survive the onslaught of the devils in the day by chance, what do you think could happen to us if we chase a dwarf in a night so dark that we can hardly see what is lurking? I must confess, chasing that dwarf tonight is like building a castle on your nose or fighting against one’s shadow.” Nihu’s frustration mounted. He inhaled sharply. “I wish we could go after the dwarf. If it is so very difficult to get the mat, how do hunters get it at all?” “When the dwarf is asleep, sometimes they roll off the mat and lay on bare Earth.” “Apart from that, is there no other way one could get the mat?” “Apart from what I have told you, any other way would eventually be a highway to hell. Because the fortune you would make out of Agbere’s mat is almost equal to the evil you would face when he discovers you have his mat!” Old Phil got hold of his musket and got to his feet. “I have had enough for one day.” He went into his hut and Nihu had no choice than to follow and to put the day behind him.