It seemed to Ras that there must be another element influencing Wuwufa's decision. By naming her as the witch, he showed the new chief that his power was not as great as Wuwufa's. Wuwufa controlled the world of spirits, and that was always stronger than the world of flesh. So Yusufu had told Ras, and now Ras could see the truth of his words.
The crowd groaned as the buffalo tail flicked Wilida's face again and again. Wilida slumped, her head down, her arms hanging by her sides, her knees slowly giving way. Bigagi had jumped up from his chair and was shouting and banging the end of his wand against the earth. Wuwufa paid no attention to him. He called to Tuguba and Sewatu, who took Wilida away between them into the Great House. The women scattered to gather wood to build the hut for burning the witch.
The men were busy with their allotted work. They were setting the corpses up on little stools, propping them up with long sticks behind them. Most of them were as stiff as felled trees. Gubado's head was placed on a stool so that he, too, could watch the burning.
Ras was close to vomiting because of what was going to happen to Wilida. But he got down off the tree immediately, because a woman, Seliza, was coming through the bush toward him. Several yards behind her was Thifavi, Wuwufa's son, armed with a spear. He called to Seliza to hurry with the wood-collecting. His jerky glances around him made it evident that he dreaded being in the bush, even if it was bright daylight.
Ras slipped up behind Thifavi while Seliza was bending over, her back to them, hacking away with a copper axe at a bush. Thifavi must have heard Ras, or else he was turning to look behind him. His eyes widened, his mouth fell open, and he started to complete his turn and to bring up his spear. Ras stepped inside the range of the spearhead and drove in his knife just below Thifavi's jaw. He let Thifavi down easily to avoid attracting Seliza with the noise of his falling body. He pulled the knife loose with some effort because its point was wedged in the windpipe. Then he came upon Seliza from behind and bore her, face down, to the earth. His left hand was on her mouth, and the edge of the bloody knife was against her jugular vein.
"You will lie here with Death, Seliza," he said. "Not I but the knife will be in your body if you tell me lies."
Seliza shook violently. Ras took his hand off her lips and allowed her to sit up.
'Tell me the truth," he said. "Who shot the arrow that killed my mother?"
Her teeth chattered so much that she could barely get the words out.
"I... I... truly... I... don't... know!"
"Your men must have boasted of going into the Land of Ghosts and of killing the ape mother of Ras Tyger, the ghost, though she was no ape and I am no ghost, as you well know. Who did it? Bigagi? He is the only one with enough courage."
Seliza nodded her head and then could not stop nodding.
"Bigagi did it! I thought so! Bigagi shall die slowly. All your men shall die, but they shall go swiftly, except for Bigagi. Now tell me, where is Yusufu, my father?"
Seliza, still shivering, said, "Yusufu? Your father? Truly there is no Yusufu, your father, in the village, and I do not know of him!"
"The little black man with the long gray hairs on his face?" Ras said. "My beloved foster father. You know! Where is he? In the Great House?"
Seliza nodded again and could not stop.
"And when do they plan to burn Wilida?"
"Today, of course! As soon as the hut is built!"
Ras stood up and away from her, though he still held the knife threateningly. He said, "Go now and tell Bigagi that Wilida and Yusufu must be released at once. They are to be let out of the western gate so that they may cross the river on a dugout. And they are not to be followed.
"If they are not released, if they are harmed in any way, I will kill every man in the village, and I will burn down every hut and the walls so that the women and children will be homeless and defenseless against the leopards.
"And also tell Bigagi that even though he let Wilida and Yusufu..."
Ras stopped. It would not be wise to push Bigagi too far. He could find out later that Ras still meant to kill him.
He raised his knife but stopped and said, "Wiviki? What killed him?"
"A yellow-haired ghost killed him!" Seliza said. "He and Sazangu were hunting when they heard something in the bushes. They crept toward the noise, and they suddenly saw the ghost, smaller than you, paler, with long yellow hair and covered with strange, brown stuff. It had something like a blunt axe in its hand, and it pointed the end of the haft at Wiviki when Wiviki jumped up and started to throw a spear at it. There was a noise, like a branch splitting, and Wiviki fell dead. The ghost ran off then. Wiviki had no wound except for a small hole in his chest. He..."
"That's enough!" Ras said. He slashed Seliza across the arm with the edge of his knife, and he said, "Go!"
Seliza, screaming, ran as swiftly as her fat legs would permit her through the bush toward the village. Ras ran to the bank, swam across the river and went west and then north until he was opposite the village. From the top of a tree, he watched the scene inside the walls. Seliza was still screaming as she was led off to her hut by some women. Bigagi was pacing back and forth before the warriors, who now included all males big enough to hold a spear upright. Bigagi was shouting at them and now and then brandishing his wand in the direction of the bushes where Thifavi lay.
Ras, after counting those present and then scanning the area outside the village, saw one of the missing men--Zibedi--in the bushes on the bank opposite the tree from which Ras had leaped into the river two weeks before. And near the tree, also hiding behind a bush, was a twelve-year-old boy, Fatsaku. Bigagi was not to be scorned. He had set Fatsaku to call others if Ras should climb the tree again. And Zibedi, armed with two spears and a bow and arrows, was to kill Ras if he tried the same escape route.
Ras again counted the men within the walls to make sure there were no others hiding in ambush. He left the tree and crawled to Zibedi, and presently Zibedi was jetting his life out through a severed jugular vein while Ras shoved his face into the dirt to keep him from crying out.
After Zibedi had quit bleeding, Ras circled north and east and crossed the river again. He got behind Fatsaku, but the boy was as nervous as a monkey that smells leopard. During one of his frequent glances behind him, he saw a patch of white skin. Yelling, he leaped up, his spear abandoned, and ran to the village. Ras threw his knife but missed him. After retrieving the knife, he sped back across the river to resume his post in the tree.
By then the hut had been finished. It was a hastily built construction, tied together with long grasses and threatening to fall over. But it was built well enough for its purpose.
Wilida was brought out of the Great House to the center of the village, where Wuwufa harangued her from behind his mask. Bigagi, leaning forward, sat on his chair. He said nothing. Wilida's head sagged forward, and she was silent. Even from his distance, Ras could see the grayness of her skin. She did not struggle when she was pushed forward and then shoved into the hut. Her hands were tied behind her, and she fell so that her feet stuck out through the doorway. The women kicked the feet until they were withdrawn into the hut.
The women then piled tree branches and bushes at the doorway until it was completely blocked. Wuwufa took a torch from his wife and applied it to the piles at the north, east, south, and west. Bigagi, as if he knew that Ras must be watching from somewhere, rose from the chair and made a complete circle, stopping four times to shake his wand at the world outside the village and yell something.
There was no wind, but the but caught fire quickly enough. The flames spurted upward; smoke rose straight up. Wilida began screaming and did not stop until the hut collapsed inward and the blazing roof fell down.
9
PAYMENT
Ras vomited. Afterward, he lay for a long time on the branch, face down, and stared at the bushes and the elephant's-ear plants. Then he climbed down, noting on the way that some insects were already eating the vomit sprayed on the trunk. He went to t
he river to wash the taste from his mouth and cleanse his throat and his soiled body.
There was nothing he could do for Wilida except to grieve for her and to kill her killers. But Yusufu was not dead yet--if he could believe Seliza. He was not sure now that she had not told him what she thought he wanted to hear. Certainly, he had seen nothing of Yusufu. Perhaps the Wantso had killed him while on their way back to the village. Or perhaps Yusufu had escaped them at the tree house and fled far away into the hills.
It was too much for him now. The two he loved most, except for Yusufu, were dead.
"Everything happens in threes," Mariyam had often said.
"Not this time!" Ras said aloud.
He returned to Gubado's body to find Janhoy. There was not much left of the old man. His bones were spread around, and two jackals were gnawing on them, while six ravens waited in a semicircle a few feet from the jackals. Nearby, behind a bush, Janhoy was sleeping on his back, his belly distended, his forepaws folded on his chest and his back legs up in the air.
"If I were a Wantso, I could drive a spear through your fat stomach, and you would never wake up from the dreams of whatever a lion dreams of," Ras said. "Sleep well and long, Janhoy, because I do not have time for you now nor for some time to come."
He removed from the quiver the Wantso arrow that had killed Mariyam, and said, "And you, you will fly back to the man who sent you into Mariyam's heart. You will return to his heart. Bigagi will die tonight."
He slept uneasily in the tree the rest of the day. The cries of monkeys and birds jarred him loose from his precarious hold on sleep. Several times he dreamed of Mariyam and Wilida as still alive, and woke up weeping. The last dream was of Yusufu imprisoned in a hut by the Wantso. Then he knew that he could not allow himself to sleep again until he was certain that Yusufu was safe. He returned to the big tree across the river from the village shortly before dusk.
The twilight sifted down purplishly. The day animals ceased their noise. The night animals took over. Far off, a leopard screamed. Presently, Ras heard a slight sound and guessed that a leopard had found Zebedi's body. There were some more noises. The leopard was dragging the corpse away to a place more suited for the cat to eat. Most of Zebedi, who was known as the Laugher, would soon be in the leopard's belly. The bones would be stripped clean by jackals and ravens. The grass would cover the bones. And that would be all of Zebedi. Just as the old harpist, Gubado, would be lion dung and grass-ridden bones.
"Yet I well remember Zebedi's laugh and the jokes he told, which Wilida told me. And I remember Gubado's harp and its music, and I will play his songs on my harp. And Mariyam and Wilida..."
He tried to make himself quit thinking of Mariyam and Wilida. Their memory cut him to the bone of his soul.
Torches lit the inside of the walls now, and he saw that the corpses were being taken down from their stools and were being carried off into the Great House. Some women were cooking the evening meals on the stones and in the pots before their houses. The rest were mourning loudly over the dead. Bigagi was on the chief's chair and eating from a wooden platter held by Seliza. He was talking with a full mouth to Wuwufa and the warriors squatting before him. Torches were blazing over each of the gates, lighting up a little boy on each platform. Only the upper parts of the children's heads stuck up above the notch of the V formed by two sharp-pointed poles. They were making as small a target as possible.
And Yusufu, where was he?
Ras changed trees to get a different angle of view. As he had expected, he saw a man, Pathapi, by the wall under the branch of the sacred tree. He had been set there to watch if Ras should try to enter the village by the tree.
The darkness deepened. The moon had not yet risen. The women and children went to their huts, except for the women who were sitting with the dead in the Great House. The warriors gathered around Bigagi to hear his instructions. The children were called down from the platforms and sent to their houses. All but one torch were extinguished. By its light, Ras could perceive the men scattering to the shadows under the hut. Pathapi went under Wuwufa's hut. Bigagi had walked into the Great House, but Ras supposed that he was sitting on a stool just inside the doorway.
The single torch was doused in a pot of water. Darkness and quiet settled. Even the moans and cries of the women in the Great House stopped.
Ras climbed down from the tree and crossed the river. He took some fire sticks from a hollow in a tree and set to work to make a fire. After touching off the end of a long, dry stick from the blaze, he walked to the sacred tree. Though it was awkward holding the brand in one hand, he climbed the tree and threw the brand onto the roof of Wuwufa's hut.
Somebody--probably Wuwufa--yelled, and there was the slap-slap of bare feet on the hard earth. Ras jumped down from the tree and circled the stockade to the west gate. He cast his rope to secure the noose around the pointed top of a pole. When he had hauled himself up, he looked through the thorn barricade between the poleends. By the blaze of the rooftop, he could see Wuwufa and his wife jittering outside the hut, other men yelling advice to two men on the roof trying to beat the fire out with dugout paddles. They were, however, succeeding only in knocking burning parts over the rest of the roof. Several women were bringing up pots of water. Bigagi was not in sight.
Suddenly, Bigagi stepped out from behind the house nearest to Ras. He gave a cry and threw his spear at Ras, who released his hold on the rope to drop down below the top of the poles before he clutched the rope again. Then, hanging on with one hand to the V between two poles, despite the pain from long thorns, he loosened the noose and then dropped to the ground. The butt of the spear had rattled against the top of the pole as it shot over him. Ras picked it up and ran around the wall until he was near the north gate. He had expected the Wantso to come out the south gate or perhaps to send one party through it and the other through the west gate to catch him between them. However, as he drew near the north gate, he saw it beginning to swing open. He changed his course to make for the trees and the bush away from the village. Then, changing his mind, he turned to wait until the gate was almost open, and he threw the spear.
It caught Gifavu, the first man out, in the belly. Gifavu fell backward, knocking down the man behind him. Ras saw that the south gate was also being opened and that Bigagi and three men were coming through it. They whirled as they heard the cries of those at the north gate and ran toward it.
Now Ras knew that Bigagi would not let up until he had killed Ras or Ras had killed him. Ras could pick off the men one by one and retreat each time into the jungle to come back later to kill again. He could keep this up as long as he wished, and the Wantso could not just stay within the village. They had to get out so they could get food and water. Besides, Ras could burn them out if he was determined to do so. Bigagi must have explained this to his people and given them the courage to come out into the night after him. Even Gifavu's death was not stopping them.
Ras fled to the river and swam across. Arrows hissed into the water so near him that he was forced to dive. His bowstring and arrows were wet, so he abandoned them and the rope, but kept the arrow that had killed Mariyam. He stuck this through his belt, the only thing he was wearing.
He rose just long enough to catch a breath of air and to see that three men were swimming after him. Six figures, darker than the night, were on the shore, waiting for him to come up. They did not see him, however, before he let himself sink back under. He swam in the lightlessness toward the three in the river, pausing briefly now and then to listen for their thrashings. When he was sure that one was directly above him, he came up under him. It was difficult to drive a knife against the water with any force, but he grabbed a leg to give him leverage and shoved the blade with all his strength. Its point went into the swimmer's belly. After pulling it out, he emerged to find himself between the other two. The stabbed man was floating face down, arms out.
Bigagi shouted at the two, who closed in on Ras, but very slowly. Ras dived deep, felt fingers touc
h his foot, and kept on going down. His ears began to hurt. Then, his hand plunged into cold mud. Above him were faint sounds, like hands and feet beating a long way off. Had the men on shore also come in after him? If most of them had, Bigagi would make sure that at least one archer was still on the bank. Yet it was so dark that accuracy would be difficult. So far, no one had thought to fetch torches.
He did not know his direction. He swam along the bottom until it abruptly curved upward. He was heading toward the wrong bank. Very well, let it be the wrong bank. They would not be expecting him to come up by the bank he had just left. Or, if they did, there was little he could do about it. He was almost out of air; the panic to open his mouth and breathe was a fist squeezing him.
The surface was a band of lesser darkness just above him. Slowly, fighting the urge to lunge up and suck in air, he rolled over and allowed himself to drift up. The waters broke on his face and rolled off, and he breathed out slowly and breathed in. Splashes and shouts were muffled because his ears were under water. Then, slowly, he sank back down and groped along the mud, the surface only a few inches above him. His hands felt roots, a piece of broken pottery, a bone that had the shape of a hog's lower back legbone. He groped on until the current suddenly became swifter, and he knew he was in the channel between the bank and the islet. He kept on going until he felt as if the last of air had burned away in him and he was a dying emptiness. Only then he rose up and, struggling to fight off panic, lifted his head into the air. Throttling his gasps to long, well-controlled indrafts, he crawled across the bank to the wall and leaned against the poles for a while. There was much noise on the bank where he had first dived in, and there were now many torches. There were also voices of women and children. It sounded as if the entire village were on the bank or in the river.
Perhaps this was true. Bigagi may have summoned everybody to join in the search. Strength was in numbers, and courage also.
Lord Tyger (Grandmaster Series) Page 13
