The Legend of Hombarume (Legends Series, #1)

58.

By the time the horn started blaring, Nhakayedenga was on his way to Makura village. The sound was distant but he could recognize it anywhere, the traditional warning horn to alert the villagers of impending peril. In his opinion, it had been sounded a few days too late, evil had been looming in the village and had clutched it in a tight embrace that would not soon weaken.

What was needed was a just man, a true leader that would lead them off the treacherous part that they had wound up on courtesy of his old friend, Banga.

The man was everything wrong with the village, depraved, cunning and always had an ulterior motive. He never did anything to serve the people but himself and his needs.

Nhakayedenga had known him long enough to know that his ego and his thirst for power always came with casualties, sooner or later, someone would have to fall.

The gods knew what a vile man he really was behind the mask, thus they had snatched his heir from him and left him helpless and grasping for straws. The heir he had brought up was in his image, someone who would follow his footsteps in poisoning the throne and the people.

Rujeko was the smallest of the four villages and the one that had seen the least development since the kingdom of the four was created. It was all because of Banga who focused most of his energy in improving himself and his security than actually making tangible changes for the people.

Nhakayedenga was really calm, too collected for someone who had the sound of the horn reminding him that he had left trouble behind, that he had left his wife and daughter behind in a land that was riddled with evil. He was too relaxed for someone who had made a selfish decision to go on a quest for answers to questions that had been asked so long ago. What was left? What could have been? What if he had followed his instincts?

Answering these questions wasn’t justification enough for what he had done. It was unfathomable, out of character and unforgivable. Thoughts of Nakai finding out what he had done flooded his mind; she would never forgive him for this.

The farmer had never been afraid of travelling the night. To him the darkness was merely the absence of a light that was not completely essential in the first place. Even when he was much younger, his mother used to scold him for how he played dangerously into the night. When she helped Tsitsi escape with Chaminuka, she had expressed her worries about the night but he assured her that there was nothing to fear.

Nhakayedenga knew the risk of aiding her escape, the wrath he would have to face when Banga found out what had happened but he did it nonetheless. He went out with mother and son, escorted them to the neighboring village with only cowries to start a new life.

That night was the longest one yet for him. He prayed that the gods keep them safe and see them through, but he could sense Tsitsi's paranoia, her fear that her husband could just emerge from the thick darkness, that he could just thwart all her plans and catch her before she even went far. Her fear was warranted. After his falling out with Banga just before he became Chief, he’d been violent and had a temper that was as untamed as the lions that roamed the forest.

He only rested when the three of them arrived at their destination the following day. Nhakayedenga never had the intention of remaining in Makura with them, but the thought did cross his mind. The question that had plagued him until now originated from then. What could have been? But there was a lot to consider, a new unblemished love to be had, a family to be created back in Rujeko. So he took a secret precaution to ensure that the mother and son would not be found and returned to his village where the chaos was already brewing by then. In this moment he imagined that the horn was sound and echoed high and low while the guards searched far and wide.

Now, the issue had been long forgotten. Except for the little spat they had a few days earlier, Banga would not even consider him worthy of thinking about. He would have a lot more responsibility to deal with before he even realized that his old friend was no longer in the village. Especially now that there was yet another emergency or tragedy that warranted the sounding of the horn. All this made him wonder once more what could have happened had he stayed away from the small village riddled with misfortune all of a sudden.

He knew the partial answer to this question. In Rujeko he was someone to be admired. He had made a life for himself that every other man envied either publicly or in secret. He was latched on to his success as a farmer because he believed that it was what made him admirable. Even back then when he was still youthful, his life as a farmer had already started bearing fruits, his prior friendship with the royal family had given him status and relevance that other young men would only dream of. He would have nothing in Makura and no one would care for him. Now he had nothing to lose. He had proven himself and had acquired more wealth than most of the men in Makura ever could.

Now as the horn sounded, it felt like a reminder and also a signal. A reminder that history was repeating itself in a way and a signal of this change in his life, a new path he had decided to embark on, leaving everything behind.