Vengeance
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Vengeance Of The Gods Pt. 02 free porn video
CHIDEBEM woke up suddenly from his sleep. In an instant, he was wide-awake, listening for the sound that woke him. He heard nothing for a while, but he did not relax. If anything, he became even more alert and tenser because he was sure he had heard something. He slept like a dog and the slightest sound would have him wide-awake in no time. Another instinct horned by seasons of hunting and warrior training.
As he lay tense on the bed, waiting and listening, he looked through the little slits in the wooden windows and saw that it was still pitch-dark outside. The night sounds confirmed that it was nowhere near dawn. He had no need to look at his timepiece-a treasured gift from Captain William-to know that. He had an in-built timekeeper, and it had not indicated to him that it was time to wake up. Besides, he would need to light the lamp to see the face of the chronometer. And he could not afford to let the intruder know that he was aware of his presence…
Then he heard something! It was very faint and sounded like it came from several paces from his window, but he had heard it!
Instantly he rolled over on his bed and pulled out the scabbard from under the bed of raw cotton fillings. Slowly, so as not to make any sound, he pulled out the hunting knife from its scabbard. Then quick and silent as a butterfly’s flight, he moved and crouched beside the door, listening, his heart beating a familiar tattoo in his chest.
He heard the sound again, slightly closer this time. It was barely discernible, as light as a wild cat’s padded walk, but he had heard it.
Who or what could it be? It certainly was not the constabulary recruits: they had no need to move with such stealth. He was familiar with the reassuring thread of their occasional night patrol. Might it be some straying wild beast? He instantly discarded the idea. He had been told that that had not happened here for quite a while now. Besides, he would have perceived the smell of such an animal. Again, the only animals that would move with such stealth were the flesh-eaters. And they would have attacked the recruits on guard-duty long before getting near his room, anyway. Therefore, it could not be them.
He heard the sound again! It was much closer this time and he knew instantly what it was. It was the slightly chaffing sound made by bare feet walking on the ground. Going by the faintness of the sound this late at night, and its intermittence, there was only one conclusion to make. Someone was creeping very slowly towards his room! By the last sound he heard, he must have passed Nana’s room and was virtually by his window or door now! He gripped the knife tightly, his body tense, his heart beating very fast. A trickle of sweat ran down his back as he waited, ready to take on this nocturnal intruder. Whoever he might be!
He heard a slight scrapping sound on his window and felt his muscles tauten with apprehension. Then he relaxed a little. The scrapping sound came from a human nail, and as he listened, it became slightly louder. Then another nail joined the scrapping.
There were two of them-at least! He used that signal with some hunting friends at Oba. It was necessary because some of them had wives and mothers who would not hear of them going off at night, in the name of hunting wild prey.
Could they be the ones outside his room at this time of night? If so, why were they here? How did they find him? He had not seen any of them since he came here to work. Might it be a trap? He decided to find out.
He reached out and scratched at the window frame. He made four distinctive scratches and the person on the other side replied with two scratches, half the number of scratches he had made.
‘Chidebem? Nw’ezenta?’ The whispered words were very faint and barely discernible. He could not work out whom the voice belonged to, but only one person called him by that nickname. He was Augustine, his closest friend at Oba, who was involved in virtually all of his hunting expeditions when he was there. Augustine called him ‘the king-hunters’ child’ because of his grandfather. Augustine’s father was part of a hunting expedition Asom’ugha had led, and he never stopped talking about the man’s cunning and fearlessness.
But why would Augustine be here in the middle of the night? For a reply, Chidebem scratched at the window four times again.
‘Nw’ezenta? It’s Augustine. Open the door.’ His voice was still a barely audible whisper, even in the dead quiet of the night.
Chidebem knew he was not alone, and for a moment, he wanted to ask who was with him. Then he changed his mind. He would find out for himself. For a reply, he scratched twice on the window, and then moved over to the door.
Slowly, he unlatched the door with his left hand, while his right hand gripped his hunting knife tightly. No one would take him by surprise! As the door swung silently open, he thanked his ancestors, whom he believed gave him the inspiration to oil its hinges with bleached palm oil two days before. He stayed behind the door, but as Augustine stepped into the room, he moved forward.
Quick as lightning, his left hand shut out and grabbed Augustine’s left forearm, spinning him around with the same motion. Before the startled young man knew what was happening, his back was resting on Chidebem’s torso, and he was facing the open door. Chidebem’s left arm was curled around his throat from behind, the back of his head resting in the crook of his left shoulder, the cold blade of his big hunting knife pressed into the side of his neck.
‘Chideb…what…’ Augustine croaked as his friend’s powerful forearm pressed hard into his windpipe, cutting off the passage of air.
‘Who did you come with? How many of you came here?’ His voice was a tight little whisper.
‘There are…three of us. I came with…Egwuonwu and…Okpal’eke’. His voice was a low gasp as the pressure on his windpipe eased a bit.
The two young men he mentioned were their friends and hunting mates, so Chidebem relaxed a bit when he heard their names.
‘Egwu…Okpala…come in quickly’, he whispered, his eyes trained keenly on the open doorway as both men came in. ‘Shut the door’, he whispered urgently, ignoring the barely discernible, startled expressions on their faces as they saw him holding Augustine, with his evil-looking knife pressed into the side of his neck. ‘Lock the door!’ he ordered in a low, harsh whisper as they closed it. He did not want anyone to take him by surprise. He trusted these three men, but what if someone else had followed them? He was not given to taking any chances in potentially dangerous situations, his grandfather had drummed that into his ears countless times. He watched Okpal’eke lock the door, then released his hold on Augustine and took a deep breath, realizing for the first time that he had been holding his breath.
‘Why…why…did you do that?’ Augustine spluttered as he gulped air into his burning lungs.
Chidebem patted him on the back apologetically, then went and lit his lantern, turning the flame low. The expression of shock and outrage, which still lingered on Augustine’s face, was rather funny. The others would have laughed, if not for the circumstances.
‘Relax, my friend, don’t be offended. Strange happenings bring strange reactions. How did you get past those guards? Is it just your hunting skills?’ he asked, a wondering expression on his face.
‘Eem…I’ll say…that and something else’, Augustine spoke uncomfortably and it had nothing to do with the soreness at the throat he was still rubbing.
‘Something like what?’ Chidebem was curious, not least of all because of Augustine’s obvious discomfort.
‘We used ‘edi-ula’ on them,’ Egwuonwu volunteered, a sheepish smile on his face.
”Edi-ula?’ The deep sleep magic charm?’ Chidebem could hardly contain his mirth. ‘Augustine, I thought you said you’re a true Christian?’ he smirked, covering hi
s mouth with his hand to stop the laughter from bubbling forth.
Augustine was a newly converted Christian who scorned virtually every traditional practice of his people. His given name was Nw’ofo, but he would not answer anyone who called him by that name, except his mother. The reason for the exception was that he did not joke with food! His conversion was causing ripples in his family, with the maternal uncle who had converted him barred from visiting his in-laws. And this extreme reaction had the firm support of his elder sister, Augustine’s mother! The woman was bitter that, simply because she had allowed her son to go and stay with their old and lonely mother, her ofoogeli, lousy younger brother had gone and lured the foolish boy into the evil, witchcraft religion.
Despite all the persecution, though, Augustine had stuck to his guns. To think that he would consult a witchdoctor when he often disparaged virtually all the practices of his ancestors!
‘If you used ‘edi-ula’ on them, then why were you moving as if you were stalking an antelope?’ Chidebem asked curiously.
‘We still needed to be cautious. We know they’re not the only people here, and the charm may not work on anyone who’s ‘well-cooked’. We also know that some white people live here and we hear that charms don’t touch them’. Okpal’eke spoke with an amused expression on his face as he observed Augustine’s continued discomfiture.
‘That’s fine… that’s fine.’ Chidebem paused for a moment, studying his friends. ‘I know that a frog doesn’t run in the afternoon for nothing. So why did you have to use the charm? Why did you have to come here by this time? How did you even manage to find this place?’ He could hardly contain his curiosity and unease any longer.
‘You asked good questions, and the answer to them is why we’re here.’ Augustine paused and took a deep breath. ‘Chidebem, your life is in danger.’ He looked away as his body tensed, his eyes flicking searchingly at the three of them in turn.
‘My life is in danger?’ he mused, his voice tight, his eyes narrowed as he stared intently at his night guests. ‘Why is that so?’
‘Yes, it’s true. That’s why we came here to warn you.’ Egwuonwu’s worried expression weighed in more than his words.
Chidebem studied them silently, and the expressions on their faces told him they were dead serious. ‘So, who wants to kill me?’ His voice was coated with sarcasm.
‘The relations of the men you killed to rescue those children from slave-hunters,’ Augustine said with deadly calm.
‘You know about that? How…? At a loss for words, he stopped and stared at his friend, perplexed.
‘I know because those men are from my kindred.’
‘You mean you’re from …?’ His voice trailed away lamely as he continued to stare at him.
‘Yes, I’m from that dreaded kindred. You don’t know that because your school is in a different village from mine. And while you were at Oba, you were too busy with your school and hunting to bother to learn some things.’ Augustine’s voice had maintained the same deadly calm.
Chidebem stared at him, an involuntary mental shiver going through him. This Augustine was different from the one he used to know. He was a good hunter and showed considerable guts in the bush, but this cold calm was a characteristic he had never seen before. And to think that he belonged to that dreaded slave-dealing kindred, feared and hated, even by their own people.
So, in spite of the friendliness and charm, underneath was the blood of a slave-hunter. And blood never lies. Within the soft paws, a lion has killer claws.
‘How did you know how to find me and why are you betraying your people to warn me?’ Chidebem’s voice and manner had become deceptively insouciant.
‘I knew how to find you because some of your warriors here are with my people,’ replied Augustine, his lips curling mirthlessly.
‘You mean our guards?’ Chidebem queried disbelievingly, then, ‘impossible!’ he snapped when Augustine nodded derisively. ‘I can’t believe that! Those men are supposed to fight slave-traders!’ he declared in an indignant whisper.
‘Believe whatever you like, I’ve told you the truth.’
‘Things are not always what they seem, Chidebem. A ripple in the grass can mean a gazelle, but it can also mean a leopard or even a lion. Remember that, my friend.’ Okpal’eke spoke gently, understanding how disillusioned Chidebem must be by this piece of information.
‘You asked how we knew where to find you. You should also ask how we knew your own door, after all, there are four doors here. Why did we come here in the dead of the night instead of at daytime? Why did we use the deep-sleep charm on your warriors instead of asking them to send for you?’ The sarcasm dripping from Augustine’s voice would fill an earthen water pot as he moved and sat down on the floor.
‘Don’t be angry that I doubted you,’ whispered Chidebem, giving himself a mental shake. ‘It’s just that I didn’t know…I didn’t think…it never even occurred to me at all…’ His voice trailed away as he sat down on the floor too, suddenly feeling weak.
‘I know…I know, my friend. You trusted these people-both the white men and our own people. Your hunger to avenge your cousin’s kidnap had blinded you and blurred your reasoning. You should be careful and use that tortoise brain of yours all the time.’ He paused for a moment, and then continued. ‘Ask yourself these questions: who do the slave-hunters sell their slaves to? And who do your warriors work for?’ Augustine’s voice had gentled as he spoke.
‘White people,’ whispered Chidebem. He sat with his head bowed, his big toe drawing formless patterns on the floor. ‘But not all the guards are involved in that, and not all the white men, too. I’m sure of that’. He spoke with deep conviction, for he could stake his life that Captain William was not a slave-trader. He also felt sure that the recruits’ joyous celebration and revelry of the other night was genuine, though he knew now that his tale must have been a sore one for some of them.
But who among them could it be? Who?
‘What you said is true. Only a few of them are involved in this. But who knows who they are?’ Egwuonwu spoke as if he had read his thoughts.
‘You took a great risk in coming here, especially considering that we have these traitors in this place. Why did you do it?’ Chidebem asked in a rather subdued tone of voice, looking searchingly at his friends.
‘You’re a good person, Chidebem,’ Augustine answered for them. ‘And you shouldn’t die for doing a good thing. Besides, you saved my head more than once in the bush’.
‘But the ‘good thing’ I did had interfered with your interests and your relations had died there.’ Chidebem ignored his last statement as he probed him for answers.
‘It’s their interests, not mine. I don’t share their slave dealing profits with them. As for my relations dying there, they got what they deserved in my own consideration.’ There was a snap in his voice and his lips tightened.
‘What do you mean by that?’ Chidebem stared at him with interest.
‘Those fools were told to stay away from Nnewi because we have relations there, but they won’t listen. Now their greed has caught up with them. The small girl, Sool’uka, is the daughter of my mother’s youngest sister, who’s married to a man from Nnewi. The boy with her, Ndukaku, is the son of my mother’s younger brother. He’s from Oba, but from a different village from ours. My mother is the eldest of them all. So you see, the fools had captured their own clan’s boy and relation,’ he finished hotly.
‘But the boy said he was from Nnewi. He also spoke their dialect very well,’ Chidebem said slowly and musingly, his expression thoughtful.
‘Yes, he likes to tell people that. You see, my mother’s younger sister, Sool’uka’s mother, is very fond of Nduka. A fondness that started from when he was a baby. She claims that he’s a r
eincarnation of their father, whom she was very close to when he was alive.
‘Nduka’s mother died when he was very young, and naturally, my aunt took him home. She preferred to raise him by herself instead of leaving him at the mercy of her older brother’s first wife. Therefore, Nduka grew up at Nnewi and that’s why he speaks their dialect. He sees himself as a boy from Nnewi. Of course, he’s still a child. When he gets older, he’ll understand.
‘Meanwhile, Sool’uka being her only child has not helped matters with my mother’s sister. She rarely allows Nduka to go home. As far as she’s concerned, Nduka is her son. The love between them is untouchable. As far as Nduka is concerned, too, his ‘mother’ can do no wrong.’ Augustine paused for breath, an indulgent smile on his face.
Looking at him closely in the lamplight, Chidebem could see the bit of resemblance with Nduka and Sool’uka-the fair skin and fine features.
‘It must have been terrible for the woman, losing her two children on the same day’, Chidebem said slowly, a curious pain reflected in his voice and eyes.
‘Yes, they stopped her from committing suicide just before the children were brought back. She’s a very softhearted woman, and couldn’t bear the pain of losing those children that way. They said she had cried from the time it became clear that something had happened to them, until they were brought back, refusing to bath or eat. Then she had fainted when she saw the children being brought back.
‘I was there at the time and I can tell you, it was real confusion. On one hand, there was great joy that the children had returned, on the other hand, there was fear for the woman who had fainted because of that. So you see, Chidebem, you had done a truly great thing in rescuing those children. Those animals from my kindred were going to take away two children who were each the only child from their mothers’ wombs. Two children who now belong to one woman. A woman who would have become childless if not for what you did. Why should someone who did what you did be left to die? My mother gave her full support to this journey. This is the first time we’ve agreed on anything since I converted,’ he concluded with a rather sheepish smile.
‘So you’re not planning to join your kinsmen in their evil trade?’ Chidebem asked searchingly.
‘Even if I had any such intentions, this has taught me a lesson.’ He paused for a moment, and then with a glitter in his eyes, declared, ‘but there are times I feel the urge to do it just to show them that I’m not a coward.’ Then he laughed softly at the look of dismay his words brought to Chidebem’s face.
They went on talking for a little while longer, with Augustine filling Chidebem in on his people’s revenge plans- information he got from snippets of conversations he had with those of them who were sympathetic to him, and from attending their secret meetings. Meetings from which someone always remembered to send him away after a while.
He told Chidebem that they planned to attack him on his way home for the planned tributary visit of the families of the rescued children. It was another piece of information Chidebem was amazed that the slave-hunters had. His eldest brother, Mbaj’ekwe, and his uncle, Onwuzul’ike, had come to the RNC camp just four days ago, in the company of Sool’uka’s father and Ndukaku’s uncle, to thank him and inform him of the planned homage trip to Umuelo. But then, considering the traitors at the RNC, and the relationship between the children’s family and the slave-traders, it should not surprise him.
Augustine did not know for sure what they planned to do with him-kill him, or sell him off as a slave. They had fierce disagreements over that, he told Chidebem, and he could not find out their final decision.
They left as stealthily as they had come, after each had given Chidebem a big hug, bidding him take care and wishing him luck.
Louise
- 25.10.2022
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