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Acacia - Secrets of an African Painting

Page 5

by Paul Bondsfield

CHAPTER FOUR – PROPHECY

  Mkasi quaked as he entered the valley. He looked up towards the black holes in the cliff face and shook again as he thought about what he had to do next. The temperature of the air around him seemed to drop as he walked slowly along the valley floor. The slopes that made up this small and secluded place menaced him as he moved and he felt the gaze of a thousand evil eyes on him from every rock, behind every tree and all around the lush vegetation of the valley floor.

  This was a secret place, known only to the highly initiated within the Matabele people who had only made this area their home two seasons ago. The very fact of this place was proof that Mzilikasi had led them to the right lands, for the spirits had been there to welcome them. From the outside, the valley was almost impossible to find unless you knew what to look for. The single entrance was through a narrow crevice in the rock face of an overgrown cliff and vines covered the gap through which only one man at a time could pass. Although he knew he had nothing to fear from mortal beings, the spirits were here all around him and he shivered constantly with genuine dread of what may happen if he displeased them in any way.

  The ground beneath his feet started to rise as he came closer to the cliff face and he looked up again at the cave entrance. A second cave to the right and the vertical crevices in the rock below these two openings gave the appearance of a grinning skull peering down at him as he approached.

  He stumbled on a vine and fleetingly wondered if he should turn and run. But he couldn’t do that any more than he could fly like a bird. He had been called. The spirits had come to him in a dream and their message was as clear as the air. He must to come to Mlimo and take the prophecy he would be given back to the people.

  As he neared the foot of the cliff, an horrific individual came towards him. It was neither male nor female to his eyes, although naked apart from some small skulls and bones around its neck. It was caked in mud from head to foot and its hair was attached only in clumps to its head. Weeping sores seemed to cover much of its body, oozing pus and blood in equal measure and it moved in a crablike crouching movement, seemingly unable to stand straight. The most frightening aspects of this creature though were its eyes, which it kept shielded from the light with a claw-like hand. They were small, red rimmed, and they seemed to be as pale as the new moon bathed in a sea of blood.

  Mkasi shrank back as the creature reached out a hand towards him, dribbling and groaning as it did so. The thing let out a piercing peal of maniacal laughter and dropped its hand, beckoning him to follow. They started to climb the cliff along a hidden path, which snaked its way behind the shelter of vines and undergrowth to the top of the cliff. He was out of breath and well behind his guide by the time he reached the top, by which time the creature had disappeared into the opening in front of him. He could hear shuffling and groaning from inside the cave but after taking a moment to regain his breath and trying to dispel the overwhelming fear and loathing he now felt, he stepped towards the blackness.

  Once inside, a terrible stench assaulted his nostrils and he recoiled from it in disgust. The smell was a mixture of death, decay, and excrement from untold sources which seemed to emanate from everywhere and was thick enough to cut with a knife. Through the gloom, he discerned shapes moving back and forth at the back of the cave and he haltingly started towards them. He had moved just a few steps when a wailing started, at first quietly, not more than a whisper, but then increasing in volume until it filled both the cave and his head, causing him to fall to his knees in terror. The howling went on for what seemed an age as he cowered on the hard rocky floor. Then without warning, it stopped and only echoes were left softly fading into silence. He looked up and a pale form stood before him. Its skin was mottled grey and smooth, reminding him of the bark of the umfumfu tree, whose leaves had provided him relief from toothache when he was young. There was something unreal about this thing that he could not understand. It was a human form, but deep inside he knew that no human mother had brought this being into the world. The thing opened its mouth and started to speak to him. Although he heard nothing, he understood the words in his head as clearly as any he had ever heard.

  ‘The men of white skin are coming and they will trick and cheat and kill with sticks of fire. Nothing will stop them. The people must use their heads as well as their fists and hearts to drive the white skins from the land. Stones that glitter as raindrops in the sunlight must be used against them or all will be lost. I will always protect the stones, they must be used by all the people of heaven or death and destruction will follow.’

  The next second there was a brilliant flash of light that momentarily blinded Mkasi and he stumbled back with a cry. When at last he could open his eyes without pain he saw tiny points of light, like diamonds all around him, and although the cave was empty, the thick, cloying stench remained.

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