Two Moons by J. Raymond Ractliffe - Chapter 34

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 34

      The long miles behind Konjaru had not lessoned the stench of seared burning flesh and the final screams of Zizi from his mind. His heart still ached in pain when his mind drifted back to the wailing songs carrying the death of his father.

Konjaru's body shivered once more, not from the coolness of the night as it approached the new morning, but of the great mystery that had turned his course and redirected him to this place.

The arrow made of sticks and stones pointing away from the path before him, clearly showed that the end of this journey had come. New footsteps mingled in the sand with those that had travelled before him this night. Deeply cut heels and a walking stick that carried someone wounded, the quiet laughing stealth of one who had followed, running sandaled feet that had also found this place where the outline of a great tree sat centre stage on the horizon.

The whooping laughing cries and sudden silence after the terrible roar that erupted in the morning light, had directed him to this final place after this night time chase was suddenly turned by a moonlit mystery..

Zizi would offer no more threats to his son, her bones lay blackened in the ashes of her home. The wailing songs for the dead chief rose with those the women sang for their dead sister. Had they known of her treacherous plans to murder the chief and snatch from the ancestors the true blood line of the ancient carved throne, they would have not bothered to spit on the roaring fire to relieve her suffering.

Better to leave the mystery of her death known only to Ngai. Pity the simpleton son left behind, they would feed the boy scraps from the community. Hatred of Zizi and Sampnga's betrayal would starve the boy and caste him away from the people. Worse, a long spear cast from the shadows ending his young life, the killing removing the shame forever more from the hearts and memories of the people.

Konjaru had searched the village for Sampanga when the last ashes had long cooled from the death fire. There could only be one place the murderous schemers could place him this night. News that Majura had healed his son and their schemes had come to naught. In their despair, they would have realized their only last desperate move was to follow the long winding path back to the compound and finish what the fevers from their poisons had been unable to do.

Ahead of him, the second night of the full moon illuminated the open landscape before him. The small stones littering the pathways seemed to have rolled away into the shadows for his eyes found none as his pounding legs ate the earth before him. Even the bushes held back their thorns, for his shins and bare legs remained untouched as he sped by them in this night.

As he ran, his long spear and brightly coloured shield was held close to his body. Years of training as a young warrior had schooled him in the art of preserving strength while on a forced march or run to the compound.

Overhead, a single dark cloud drifted over from the starless side of the sky, its fingers slowly reaching out to bind itself over the moon. For a moment, his long stride shortened while his eyes refocused to find his way until he came to a complete stop. Chest heaving, Konjaru paused for this moment until the round moon became freed of its darkness.

As his eyes shifted to see into the darker night, the single tree ahead of him became lit with the sudden missing blue light of the moon. To the side of it, the black of the night held true; the other trees and underbrush remained caught in the shadows of the cloud.

The sweat on his skin cooled to ice, the sounds of Africa around him suddenly gone. Konjaru's mouth became dry as superstitious fear gripped his soul.

Majura stepped quietly from behind the illuminated tree, her palm raised to calm the soaring fears now raging in his breast. The bone ornaments in her hair sang their night song of welcome, dancing together as she moved forward to greet him, her Milk Eye glowing pure white, leading her to their final meeting.

His trembling knees could no longer support his exhausted and now terrified spirit. One hand holding his spear, he knelt down before this mystery, Konjaru's eyes wider than the open sky and accepted whatever fate was now to come.

Majura's small voice came clearly to him while kneeling before her and the radiant blue light of the moon.

"You must find the path that brought the white boy to this place

Those that hunt and whose eyes shine in the night are there

Look for blood that falls from the sky along this path

You must go, Ngai is waiting for you"

The blue light dimmed and once more Majura's small form disappeared and all around was bathed in African darkness.

Konjaru kept staring at the tree, his mind racing. A sudden chill shook his frame while he knelt, not from the cold of the night but the deep trembling of his spirit.

He slowly rose and brushed off the sand that clung to his knee. His chin rested on his chest as his mind found the root of the message that had come from the Old Woman. Behind the moon light he had seen the faces of those that had come peering at him as he had lain in the darkness when he had been struck down by Zizi. The ancestors had nodded their approval as Majura had come to change the direction of this night's chase.

Gripping his spear tightly, he beat on the side of his shield once, lips set firmly. He nodded slowly as his mind became set on the new path before him. Turning on his sandaled feet, Konjaru looked out over the tall trees on his right and as the last fingers of the clouds let go of the moon, he set off in the direction that they had come carrying the young boy wounded by the horn of the rhino two days before.

Now he stood starring at the arrow before him that led off away from this path, over to a tall tree that stood silhouetted before the new pale of the morning. He turned and walked quickly, hunched over now, pressing his body lower to the last darkness of the earth against the brighter light of the new day. As he got nearer to the tree, he could see a man crouched behind a full shield and long spear. Before him, a mature lion lay holding a still, bloodied animal in his mouth. Its eyes glaring at the man's shield, where large eyes had been painted to hold its murderous stare.

To the right and further away, another crouched behind his shield and spear, holding his own ground while he waited for the next roar and swirling dust to mark the beginning of their own final battle. While he watched this second man, he followed his gaze up higher, up into the sky and twisted arms of the tree that seemed to be reaching out to the very stars.

"Look for blood that falls from the sky along this way"

The morning light caught the dark stain that dribbled off Jeremy's foot as he lay hanging. How he had come to lay perfectly centered on this gnarled limb without falling to the waiting jaws below, made Konjaru shake his head. A greater force must have bound him tightly to the tree through the night or he would have surly fallen to his death.

What battles he had already fought that had left him wounded up a tree, he did not know?

He stopped and knelt to the ground. A low short whistle to the man before him and the face of Thomas turned and peered back at him. It had been just minutes since the last of the dust had settled once more to the ground.

How Konjaru was to have come to this place was not a question burning in Thomas's mind. How they had become first separated from each other while the morning sun was set to rise up on the horizon, would have to for the moment, remain a mystery. Perhaps, like a leopard, Konjaru had stashed Jeremy away in the trees while he had searched for help? One did not question the why's of Africa; there would just sometimes never be an answer.

Now that there was a third to fight this battle between man and beast, it lessened the great trembling in his own heart, Thomas's mind finding a slim river of hope for them all.

Konjaru raised his palm to Thomas, indicating for him to stay where he was, holding the lion's eyes fixed to his shield. He turned his head and with his spear held low, he motioned in a half arc for the other who was still hidden by the low bushes, to come around. Moving forward out past the shadows of the bushes, Konjaru saw it was Kashezwe who had sat quietly watching them all. With his shield on his arm, he motioned that he would sweep around to the left side and hold the other flank position.

From above, the gentle groan of one wounded filled the stilled morning air. The rustle of leaves told them below, he was beginning to move as he rose from his sleep and the throbbing pain from open torn flesh woke his mind. They could see his head gently bobbing up and down as Jeremy fought against the rough bark digging deeply into his aching back, to see where he had fallen. His trembling arms reached out into open space but found no earth to steady himself. His body began to wobble from side to side as he fought to find his precarious balance perched high up in the heavens.

Over the low hills by the swaying blue gum trees and white open veranda, Claire's blue Brighton shawl slipped quietly off her shoulders, her tired muscles not able to hold the wool tightly after her night out in the cool air. Her clenched fist unclasped for a moment as her hand opened to catch the shawl as it fell. She knocked over the tea cup that had that had gone cold by her side through the early morning, her eyes leaving the fixed point on the new horizon where she had held her heart since she had woken with a start.

For just a brief moment she watched the cold tea spill to the ground, then with a sinking heart realized she had lost her tight grip on her dreams.

Jeremy turned his head weakly to see over his cramped shoulder and to the earth below. Silently, he felt himself slip away from the tree and his night time sanctuary, out into the crisp morning air down to his pooled blood waiting below.

For a brief moment while in flight, he was surprised to see Thomas as he peered up at him, crouched from behind his blazoned shield and long spear. Behind him, Konjaru had begin to move to the side. He had stopped and gazed in horror as he watched Jeremy fall out into the open and down to the glaring lion waiting below.

The earth once more drove the air from his lungs as he hit the ground. He lay on his side without moving, legs and arms at impossible angles. His mind once more slipped away to the peace of hidden dreams.

Jeremy had landed just a few feet from the prone lion. The sound of his rumpled landing startled the unsuspecting lion whose own instinct was to immediately snarl wildly, releasing the dead hyena from its mouth, claws lashed out at the swirling air, then leaping sideways away from this sudden attack from above.

The lion stood snarling, teeth barred as the dust fell all around him.

A single claw reached out and struck Jeremy's exposed back, white streaks opened where the lion's curved nails found tired flesh before they filled with warm blood that ran down in small rivulet's to the soft earth. Seeing no movement in the rumpled heap, the lion turned its head to face the closest enemy before him. It took several lunging steps forward in a mock charge, mane billowing as its terrible roar froze the blood in all their veins.

In another rain of dust, the lion then lunged back over to the still form of Jeremy. Yellow eyes fixed on the closest shield, then the lion reached down to Jeremy's sunburned shoulder and bit down through to the bone.

Jeremy could feel the long teeth that drove into him from the other side of the milky haze that he had slipped into from his fall. The dank putrid breath filled his senses and a primal scream born from a thousand generations of warriors that had walked the African land, rose up now in defiance.

His lungs filled with his last strength and he screamed into the ear of the lion as it dragged him a few feet away from the circle of shields. He even managed to raise a knee and strike feebly back at the lion, then he went silent and hung like a broken rag doll.

Jeremy's surprise scream had frozen the lion for a brief moment. It paused stiffly, then lowered itself to the ground while still holding Jeremy fast. It had to open its mouth, releasing the shoulder for the last death grip over the throat, stopping the air and ending Jeremy's life.

Konjaru raised his shield and spear and lunged past the still crouching Thomas towards the lion. Startled by the scream while it released Jeremy's shoulder for the killing bite, it snarled back at Konjaru while he charged.

Konjaru did not throw his spear in the traditional manner but ran straight to the lion screaming and striking him full in the face with his shield with all the weight he could throw behind his desperate charge to save his friend. The lion roared, striking back with both paws to rip the edges of the shield away from him.

Konjaru then lunged with his long spear, driving the blade deeply into the lion's neck. The lion reared up in sudden agony and struck his shield off his arm, exposing his left side as the long blade hit muscle and roaring madness. Roaring forward in its own blinding rage, the lion bit down on his waist, its long teeth sinking deep into the soft tissue, muscle and kidneys tearing, spilling red hot blood into the air.

While the lion held him, shaking him brutally from side to side, a second terrible bite bore down on him, through thick bone and muscle. Konjaru could hear his hip bone snap, the lion's weight dragging him to the churned ground as it shook him madly in its own pain and fury.

The lion's shaking had released the spear shaft from its neck. With the tearing pain momentary gone, the lion paused, releasing the helpless Konjaru from his madness, the churned dust of their battle coating them both as it fell like mist around them.

Laying sprawled where the lion had cast him, his mind racing to escape the growing numbness that tried to fill his mind and body, Konjaru's trembling fingers found the bloodied spear that had fallen beside him and with a last cry of the ancient Chosen Masai, drove the long spear up into the heaving chest, through the broad rippling muscles, straight into the heart of the lion as it stood over him.

With a great shudder, the lion's heart beat one last time, enough to push fresh blood into his thick veins to power a single claw that rose up out of the swirling dust and ripped Konjaru's windpipe open in a hail of blood droplets that sprayed Jeremy's still body that lay a few feet away.

In a moment the lion lay silent over the crushed prone Konjaru. He could hear the wet bubbles as they formed on his ravaged throat while the air whistled through the severed windpipe. His head gently rolled to one side and saw Jeremy lying still where the lion had dragged him.

Only now that the air had become still and the royal battle between the king of beasts and son of the chief of the Masai had ended, the terrified Thomas and Kashezwe moved cautiously forward over the still hyena, tightly holding their spears and shields lest the lion spring back to life and charge them. The deafening roars and terrible screams of battle had frozen them, away from the spilt blood and broken bones, where the stories of their bravery as warriors lay stillborn. They were careful not too look too deeply in each other's eyes. That they had survived was worth more than bravery, time enough to tell their own tales by the fires that would warm the cold nights to come.

Konjaru lay quiet. His body had begun the death rattle as he fought for the air that would not come. Already the deep cold was coming, shivers rattled his teeth as his mind grasped the ending of this battle, remembering the deafening roars and tearing bloodied muscles, his bones breaking under the force of the long ivory teeth that had bitten deeply into him as he was thrown wildly from side to side.

Thomas knelt gently by his side as Konjaru struggled to breath. The wet blood of the fallen trickling down to the red earth, drawing the first flies of the new day as the small lights began to flicker from his eyes.

"Nholiman simba eti alah kihamma Ngai" - "This great lion has gone to God." Thomas said finally, trying to avoid the searching eyes of a warrior struck down alone in his battle.

Konjaru struggled to say something, but his words blew away in the morning winds. He coughed, spilling blood down the sides of his mouth, his silent lips mouthing his last words.

Konjaru's eyes suddenly focused and with a smile radiating his dreams he spoke in bubbled whispers directly to Ngai, who was bending over him, his ear pressed close to his trembling lips to hear the words that came with no sound.

"My son Etona.... guide him... to Spirit Walk between the Two Moons... tell him I am proud..."

The light in Konjaru's eyes flickered one last time, then he was still.

Ngai took the spoken and unspoken whispers of his fallen warrior and joined them like beads over his own heart. These he would carry back to the sleeping young man who lay by the cooling waters and plant them as seeds in his heart so that they would not be forgotten.

Ngai stood up and stroked the great long mane of the old king as the wind came to play in his hair while he slept.

In the growing morning shadows of the lonely tree and the long limbs that had held Jeremy in the night, the faint image of Konjaru could be seen standing by the great soul of the lion and the grinning hyena, their clear outline painted with the luminous flickering lights of the fading stars. They had watched as Ngai had strung Konjaru's words and bound them to his own heart. After a while, they turned together and walked away towards the rising sun and disappearing moon.

The silence of their deaths faded as the land rose to greet the day. Africa had already been paid in blood, her thirst quenched for the day.

High above the lone falcon flew silently, watching the great souls rise to the fading stars. Then it too climbed the early morning hot winds back to the rolling hills and blue gum trees swaying in the morning winds.