The Legend of Hombarume (Legends Series, #1)

56.

The route that Revai and Hombarume took led them of the village towards one in the immediate East, Makura. It was an entire day’s jurney as they were avoiding the more popular routes and trying to keep to as much cover as possible lest they get caught.

Revai as he was the head of the Chief’s guard, a well travelled man, knew that as soon as they got to Makura village, the chances of being caught by their pursuers would dwindle significantly. Firstly, Makura was the largest of the four villages, spanning across countless mountains and rivers alike; secondly, the leadership in Makura village would simply not interfere in outside squabbles, thus the two had to get to this refuge as soon as possible.

The last Revai had been in Makura village was the previous summer. He as usual accompanied the Chief to the Festival of the Four and while he was fond of being recognized as someone important, someone who was passionate about their role in the leadership of Rujeko village, the Chief recommended that he let loose for once and enjoy the festivities. Of course it took a lot of persuasion for him to accept this, but after he did and decided to go on his own path, he found that what the Chief had granted him was more of a gift than a curse.

All the Chief’s of the four villages convened and made preparations for the remainder of the period before the festival began. They were provided council and also supported by the other royal members of the four in all the decisions they had to make.

That evening, Revai wandered around the village, amazed how much of it he had actually never seen, how different it was from Rujeko, how rich and populated it was. There was so much disparity between their two cultures, all the way down to simple gestures and mannerisms. It was something that fascinated him more than he ever thought it would. He ambled on to one famous bar, farther away from the royal compounds where the Chief was.

He tried to immerse himself, engage and assimilate into the conversation, partake with the drinking men, wear their clothes and mimic their culture, all in the hopes of feeling welcome. The atmosphere was unique, light conversation and strong beer,  a sense of happiness and content that he had never experienced.

After a few beers he was completely engulfed in the conversation taking place in the tavern, a debate about something that was referred to exclusively as The Left Eye. When he finally enquired about what it was, was when the men around him finally acknowledged his presence and saw it fit that the best way for him to understand was for him to witness it himself.

The Left Eye was a fighting contest that the men of Makura held every summer just before the big festival to weed out the weak among their fighters, to prune the frail branches so that their chances of winning the contest at the festival would be better. It was also done to honor the god of war whom they believed had protected them from their rivals and strengthened them and fortified their defense.

The rules of the match were amusing and were at the center of the whole event. There were two fighters in the ring, each with the left eye covered, who had to fight until one lost. The real challenge came when whoever won the round had to fight the next one with the right hand obstructed. The trick was that almost no one who won the first round would win the second one, hence the match would be settled with a third and final round where both the fighters had an eye and a hand hindered.

The matches ended quicker than Revai imagined they would given the rules. The fighters were tactical and swift, no doubt this was the reason why they had managed to win the contest at the festival all these summers. They pushed their fighters and made sure they could still fight under strange circumstances, an advantage that their opponents rarely had.

During the second from last match between a tall fellow, much leaner than the rest and a brawnier, much more threatening  man, something completely unexpected happened. The tall fellow, won the first round of the match, surprising Revai, but then also went on to win the second one, one-eyed and one-handed at that. It was all so fascinating for him and while everyone was cheering for the man, he just stood there staring at him, wondering how he had done it. His curiosity led him to the man himself.

‘Where are you from, my friend?’

The man asked Revai who had just finished congratulating him on winning the match.

‘How could you tell that I was not from here?’ Revai asked.

‘The attire may fool anyone, but not me,’ he replied.

‘I am from Rujeko village,’ Revai said.

‘You do not look like someone who is just passing through, uri muenzi,’ he said.

‘Yes, I am here with the Chief of Rujeko village,’ Revai replied.

‘Welcome to the other side, friend, share a pot of beer with me.’

The fighter gave him the most endearing smile he could muster, a welcome that made Revai feel like he belonged. The triumphant fighter’s name was Mhangura and he was at Revai’s side for the rest of the trip.

***

Most of the morning had withered away and now Gomoguru was just a mere speck in the distance for the two fugitives. They left everything they had ever known behind, a choice that Revai was still to come to terms with. So far he had managed to avoid the pangs and pains of the journey they had chosen, to suppress them long enough for him to battle the task at hand, but now the miraculous energy had dwindled. He could not go any further without another rest.

Hombarume maintained quietness along the way, unreadable and serious, probably trapped in the shock of how swiftly everything had occurred. He had been terribly close to death and his was an unenviable position, a victim of circumstance or perhaps someone inherently evil. Someone plagued with an evil that was yet to be realized or explained. What he had done to Gengezha had not allowed him to sleep at all.

Revai on the other end was slowly coming to the realization that despite what he had done for the hunter he had more questions than answers still. He did not have the faintest idea what would happen now, who Hombarume was and  what he would stand for.

What he did was completely out of character for him as he had spent his entire life following orders that came from the Chief, but now he had acted of his own volition. That is how he knew he had made the right decision, for once he had trusted his own instincts and saved Hombarume from the grave that had been dug for him earlier than he could fathom.

The night came with its own problem; beasts that roamed free and wild without anyone to govern them. A night out here would mean risking the life they had just fought to preserve. The stories were too many to not be true, the tales about Gomoguru and the spirits that wandered its valley and forest were bone chilling. Luckily they were well ahead of it by now or else they would have  had to find out for themselves whether they were factual or not.

Glossary.
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