The Legend of Hombarume (Legends Series, #1)

51.

Tapfuma, just as anyone else who had witnessed the abominable events of that afternoon was dumbfounded. It felt like a fever dream that would not end. Every time he shut his eyes, the image of Gengezha's blood drenched corpse, frail as the Chief's men carried it away from the eyes of the horrified public haunted him.

It could not have been the same Hombarume who Ushe had attested to being a peace loving man. The kind of man he described would not have committed such an atrocity in front of an audience. Tapfuma stopped for a moment after he realized that this was the second fresh body he had encountered, one a swift single cut, the other much more gruesome in comparison, though watching the act brought about an unwanted, appalling nuance and a face to the carnage.

The face belonged to Hombarume, unless Tapfuma was having a terribly unfortunate illusion. At that very moment, he remembered feeling an overwhelming foul aura from him and wondering what was wrong. Now he knew that there was something surely amiss, for this was too unusual of a reality to accept.

What if Revai and the Chief's court had been right after all? What if Hombarume had been the sole perpetrator of all of these evil acts; how else could you explain this dark aura that was emanating from him? Tapfuma strongly considered this but something deep down swayed him from this thought process.

Night had already fallen upon the Eagle homestead, the eeriness and the haunting silence was something that Tapfuma had now learnt to ignore although it terrified him. Every night, he would be alone at the fire, silently contemplating his depature from the little cursed village and what his new start in another village would entail. The plan had been to sell the rest of his father's belongings as quickly as he could, take the spoils to Makura village where he would assimilate into their culture, stripping himself of everything that he had ever known.

Now, the events of the afternoon had weakened his spirit. He thought of his father, lying slain upon his mat. His once lively face stripped of all its energy, his body robbed of its vitality. Whenever this thought would come to him, he almost always saw his father's blood-shot eyes staring into his, dying to reach out to him, searching for an answer to his premature death. Seek justice, the chilling quiet voice would come. Would the gods of the land permit him to leave without seeking this justice?

The death of his father had come with a newfound freedom, the peace and free will that he had always been yearning for, but it also left an enormous hole in his soul that could not be overlooked. Was he willing to leave the village without uncovering its secrets? This ghastly voice would torment him wherever he went unless he pursued the answers that it sought. He had to know how Hombarume tied in to all the strange happenings in the village. He had one person to visit before he made his final decision.

***

Ushe's compound was dreary and quieter than usual. This very time last year, it was lively with one of the biggest events of the season, a celebration that Hombarume had organized for Dererai and all the other fighters. It was talked about all the way to the Festival of the Four. Beer had flown endlessly through the night and the following day, those who were strong enough to dance, did so until their limbs could allow them no further. Drummers played until their palms were sore and young maidens swung their hips until the sun crept back up.

After the grueling sparring season in which a lot of new faces had shown up to the ring, with Simba even prevailing to the final, everyone had taken to Ushe's compound to revel over countless gourds of the finest brew, scintillating food and entrancing music and dance. It was a beautiful memory to Ushe because it was also the last party that Simba ever attended. A few days later, he disappeared without a trace, leaving everyone heartbroken and confused.

Now, it was as if a dark cloud had fallen upon the compound and taken permanent residence there. A feeble fire burnt low in the distance while a few familiar faces were gathered around it. For a while a strong spell of silence gripped every single man present while they stared hopelessly at the dying flames and they undoubtedly pondered about the tragic sparring contest.