Two Moons by J. Raymond Ractliffe - Chapter 26

Two Moons is a new novel by J. Raymond Ractliffe that explores the inner spirit life of Africa, her people and their powerful faith in the world of the Unseen.

The Mark of the Two Moons
Chapter 26

        Sampanga first stopped by the stream outside the compound beside a large stone by a fallen log, washed down the winding river by a forgotten storm. Had the moonlight been brighter, he would have seen a broken plume that lay at his feet and the churned sand of a morning encounter. Further up the stream, another trunk lay buried in the sand, it's sun bleached form illuminated by the pale moon.

Sampanga had left Zizi's hut and returned to his own where a smoldering fire had been rekindled. Carefully selected herbs in a boiled broth had filled his mind and body with new powers that would make him invisible to all eyes in the night. Feathers had crowned his headdress and bones cast on his mat had increased the power of this shield. The ancient words taught to him by his father filled the air in repeated song, driving the physical body to be as the mist. Even the light from the moon over the hilltop above would not find him. Sampanga was more afraid than he had ever been. The slow death cast to ones enemy by mixing a few herbs was a far cry from challenging the Old Woman.

He watched the compound for any signs that the faint morning light on the horizon had woken the inhabitants and stirred them to the coming day. His powers would last only as long as the Moon remained in the sky and cast her blue light onto the land. The sun would bring the yellow light driving away his shield and making his approach known.

He had walked and run the many miles between the village and this compound without fear as he was certain none of the stalking animals lurking in the bush or long grasses would harm him. He would overtake them by like the winds that came from the mountains, their footprints only visible as they walked through the tall fields.

There was little time remaining. Other than thin wafting grey ribbons that rose lazily from old fires, there was no sound or stirring. Two of the huts had cold fires outside of their entrances. Pots and gourds marked that they were fires that fed and ministered to those that lived here. The other hut had smoke coming from the inside, making the interior warm for aged muscles and bone.

It took little deduction that this must be where the Old Milk Eyed One slept. The other huts held her young sleeping apprentices. They would be the first to stir, stoking their old fires to life, bringing morning maze and milk to their mother.

The long hunting spear held by his side felt unfamiliar. He had not hunted for many, many years. Rather exchanging herbs and broths for his daily needs. There was always a sick child or spell to cast or break to fulfil his needs. He had tied a small Garland of herbs mixed with wild fats to the shaft. This had also made the spear appear invisible in the blue light.

As he walked towards the compound, the sand bank gave way to chilled running water as the stream slowly rose to his chest. A few more feet and he could feel the sand and weed by his feet begin their climb to the other side.

His sandals slightly squelched as he left the water, his eyes fixed on the hut before him. The wet spear had caught the moonlight as he passed through the night waters, it cast the white flickering light back up into the hills above.

Sampanga paused as he came to the hut entrance. He could hear no stirring from the inside. Those nestled under nighttime cloth still walked in their dreams. To the side he saw a bundle of wood waiting to be used for the morning fire. He reached over and picked up the biggest logs and stacked them gently against the doorway. He repeated this until the entire wood stack had been moved, covering the entrance completely.

Still no sound came from the inside of the hut. The Old Woman must have drawn well on her hemp pipe before she slept.

Sampanga walked over to one of the smaller huts where a thin wisp of smoke told the tale of a still smoldering coal. From the side of the fire stones, he brushed together a few leaves and dried twigs. Blowing slowly, he found a few red coals eager to begin a new life. The light twigs and leaves were added to them as he blew across them. It took a few minutes, before newly singed leaves burst with new light, gentle flames licking out, fighting for breath.

Holding the leaves and twigs cupped in his hand, he walked back to where he had stacked his woodpile across the entrance of the hut. He reached down and gently placed it in the middle between the wood and the doorway. Placing a few larger sticks over the small flame, blowing gently until the flames had found their own strength.

A sudden snap of a twig behind him, Sampanga froze. One hand went to his throat to feel the still hot red line drawn by an earlier blade, a reminder of a stealthy approach he had not heard and had almost paid for with his life.

Out of the shadows, Gileni stepped forward into the moon light. She had woken to the sound of scraping wood, thumping against an outer doorway, the back of her hand searched for her sleeeping eyes to rub the night darkness away. She looked out over the compound, around the mud walls, following possible trails of midnight stalkers and hunters but saw nothing.

She walked over to Mothers hut, looking still to the outer compound for the cause of the sounds that had stirred her from her sleep. Finding nothing to catch her eye or ear, she turned back to her hut when she saw the brilliant yellow fingers dancing in front of the entrance to Mother's hut.

Gileni dashed forward to scoop away the hot danger when suddenly something violent shoved her sideways to the ground. She landed hard on her side, sand and dust rising to fill her eyes and make her gasp for air.

She looked up expecting to see what had attacked her, but saw only the blinking stars and moonlight above. Her eyes darted to and fro, a frown now pinching above her eyes. The flickering light in the stacked wood caught her attention. Gileni rose to run to the danger but again, an invisible hand shoved her to the side with a startled cry, making her fall once again to the earth.

Gileni landed this time face down by the side of the fire stones. Her falling body and the breath from her lungs had raised the fine ash that came from the soot and dust of the old fires. A light mist rose and covered her arms and face, her naked chest heaving through it all.

Gileni was now in a state of panic. The flickering light coming from the doorway of Mother had grown and before her, something unknown was attacking her. Not allowing her to get any closer to putting out the growing fire that was threatening all inside Mother's hut. The fine soot lay suspended in the air, until it fell back to the earth once more.

Her eyes caught a movement on the ground.

There appeared a footstep in the dust, then another.

Gileni's eyes grew wide with fear and terror. This could only be the feared Tokalosie that had found their place here by the stream. Like the fable, it had found them in the night and was going to kill them all with its massive axe.

Gileni was unable to move. Held there by the certain coming of her death and the horror that she was unable to come to the rescue of her Mother and the boys healing within.

Another footstep materialized towards to her in the grey powder. She shrieked now in absolute terror, her hands scrapped the earth on each side of her, she flung the grey soot at her attacker to blind it and dove to the side for cover.

What had come as spirit from the other side of the heavens to cause death and destruction to the lives of men, now coughed and hacked as the fine dry soot found the bottom recesses of its pink wet lungs.

Sampanga's eyes filled with burning tears, fighting the grey dust as it clawed at him. He had not expected this beautiful creature kneeling before him to have reacted the way she did. He was enjoying the cat and mouse game, standing before her, with her eyes unable to see him.

The fine soot now covered him from head to foot. The blue light casting the needed shadows, that a form could be seen rising out of the darkness. The stars no longer blended in behind him in the background, the grey soot shone loudly in the moonlight.

What formless creature stalked her, she did not know. She looked to the mother's hut, the golden flames had grown higher and were licking at the doorway, trying to reach the dry black thatch that would ignite in an instant and explode in a wild frenzy that would make any escape from within impossible.

She lunged towards the doorway, trying to knock the wood away from the door, but the grey shadow moved again and struck her hard from behind. This time, Gileni landed on her breasts, heavier than before, the breath knocked out of her as she fell. Her light tunic fell to the side, the thin leather strings torn by the ground.

On her stomach with her legs apart, the site of this breathless beautiful girl before him transfixed Sampanga. The intimate offering caught his mind, hurling him instantly into the delirium of the Blood Madness.

A quick glance to the entrance to the hut that the fire continued to rise, Sampanga kneeled behind Gileni. With one hand to her neck, he held her firmly down to the ground as she squirmed to be released from his grip. His other hand groped for the thong that held his own covering and that of his own long spear.

The power than surged through his veins was unlike anything he had experienced. Even the rapture and final conquest he had felt with Zizi, was no match for this delight.

Reaching now with his free hand, he held his already stiffening spear, trying to find her opening. Looking down, Sampanga could see the soot that had made himself partly visible, half man in the moonlight, half spirit that remained unknown to the eye.

Gileni was fighting hard, pulling away from him. Hard as he could try with one hand, Sampanga could not make her lie still. This was harder to do than when he was with Zizi earlier in the night. She had been a willing mare, easy to mount as the hot blood made him bold and long behind her.

Gileni's fighting only increased the burning desire that rose up within him. She lashed and tore at him with her flaying arms, Sampanga's own his strength mounting as he forced her face deeper into the ground in front of her. Releasing his free hand from his spear, Sampanga reached forward and struck her loudly on the side of her head. Gileni instantly went limp, her body fell in a gentle heap, her arms struck out beside her as she slid to the ground.

One hand on her neck, Sampanga's free hand reached down between her legs to raise her slightly so that he could finally reach the intimate treasure of his dreams.

He looked down to see where to finally mount her, when suddenly he lost his breath.

Sampanga could not understand why a long metal shaft suddenly stuck out from his chest. His eyes exploded into dots of dancing colour. A cold numbness that had started with this surprise, spread to his arms, making him release Gileni's neck so that both his arms now hung silently by his side.

On his knees, Sampanga stared for a moment longer as the shaft danced in the moonlight. Then with a slithering sucking sound it was gone. A foot to his back pitched him forward without a sound escaping his lips.

He rolled off Gileni to the cold grey sand, his eyes catching a final look as Chezwe raised his bloodied spear to the stars, and sang - "Ayie! My spear has eaten. I have killed the light of the moon."

The numbness spread slowly through his entire body. Sampanga could no longer breathe, the tightness gripping his chest until only the eyes could see.

The moonlight danced to show him the flames as they rose to the thatch over the doorway. The sparks began to crackle and jump to the ground as they began to explode from their hiding places. The flames rose higher and higher deep within the thatch, the dense smoke began to fill the sky as the morning light began to creep up on the horizon.

Sampanga could feel no pain. As the last breath left his body and his eyes dimmed, he could only sigh inwardly at having been so close to his sexual desires and yet again, having failed to properly mount a woman as in his dreams.

Then he was gone.