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The steady rhythmic movements of the horse below rocked him into a dreamlike state as he stared ahead. The young man sat atop with a detached air as the animal followed the familiar route back home. His mind began to wander, and quickly he felt a curious mood envelop him. Frustrated, he kicked his heels into the animal’s side, and it whinnied and bucked in protest.
A beast’s life would be easier than the one I am faced with, he thought, bending forwards to soothe the animal.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered into its ear. Sighing heavily, he continued riding, trying to ignore his woes. Shaking his head, he focused on the road ahead and looked towards his companions.
Sensing something was amiss his friend rode towards him saying, ‘What ails you, Jabuti?’
‘Me? Oh, nothing...’
‘Come now, we’ve been friends a long time. I know you well.’
‘I wish I did, Wanadi,’ he smiled.
‘Be of heart, we have travelled far and endured much.’
‘But I have waited for this moment for so long, and now it seems...’
‘What?’
‘Oh, I don’t know... Perhaps you were right,’ Jabuti sighed.
‘About what?’
‘Him being crazy.’
‘I apologise,’ Wanadi said. ‘That was cruel of me. He is ill; nothing more.’
Jabuti nodded.
‘Give it time, my friend. Give it time,’ Wanadi said trotting away.
Jabuti rode in deep contemplation after his friend’s advice, and he recalled the old shaman’s wise words - “Follow not the path of others. Make your own way in life, for it is there that you will find your true self.”
He smiled as he remembered the old man. Jabuti’s path was indeed a lot more tortuous than he ever imagined, but it had led him to this very place and moment. If it were to take him longer to find the inner peace he yearned for; then such was the way of life.
He looked towards their companion, Esteban, who held within his strong arms another man who was pale and emaciated after many years of underground captivity. He seemed to struggle with the sudden onslaught of the hot afternoon sun and his freedom.
Jabuti caught up with them and said, ‘I can share the load if you wish.’
‘He is no burden,’ Esteban smiled.
Jabuti could not avert his gaze from his father, Pedro, whom Esteban held firmly like a child.
How could he have been treated so wretchedly? Jabuti wondered. And by his very own father!
‘Do not dwell on what happened,’ Wanadi said appearing at his side once more.
‘Hmm?’
‘It is not an easy thing to take a man’s life.’
Jabuti was silent for a while then said, ‘I never thought it was something I was capable of. It was as if...’
‘Go on.’
‘As if I lost my mind.’
‘You were angry.’
‘But you know it is forbidden in our society to take another man’s life,’ Jabuti said.
‘That is true. But there are evil people in this land.’
‘Is that any excuse?’
Wanadi was silent for a while before answering. ‘The things we have seen would change any man. Do not judge yourself too harshly.’
‘No one will mourn his passing,’ Esteban said as he joined them.
‘We shall never speak of it again, Jabuti,’ Wanadi said as Esteban nodded his agreement. ‘Unless you feel the need to.’
Jabuti replayed the scene in his mind, unable to stop the torment. After an epic quest in search of his father, Jabuti discovered him cowering in terror in a cell; held against his will by his own father. This sight unleashed an uncontrollable rage within him, and years of suffering and torment propelled him towards that terrible and unavoidable event.
He shivered as he recalled that moment.
‘You do not deserve to have a son,’ Jabuti shouted.
‘But he is my son; nonetheless, you savage,’ Gaspar mocked him. ‘And as such he is mine to do with as I please.’
‘Family should be cherished and respected.’
‘Who do you think you are? You come out from the jungle, you wear the clothes of a white man and speak our language. Yet you think that makes you my equal?’ he scoffed.
‘I am Jabuti, son of Pedro. I am my own man, and I pretend to be like no other.’
‘Do you really think that my son would have anything to do with an animal like your mother?’
‘Do not speak of her in th—’
‘I shall do as I wish,’ Gaspar interrupted. ‘Now, be gone and leave my son where he belongs.’
‘I have heard enough,’ Jabuti said. He turned around calmly and reached for the gun that Gaspar had threatened them with upon their arrival.
‘And what do you think you are going to do with that?’
‘I am a savage, sir. Just like you said.’
And with that, he blew Gaspar’s head clean off his shoulders.
‘My father was a bad man,’ Pedro said taking them all by surprise. ‘I for one will not shed a tear for him.’
‘You are feeling better?’ Jabuti asked.
‘A little,’ he smiled weakly. ‘Are you really my son?’
Wanadi looked Jabuti’s way and gave him an encouraging smile.
‘It is true, father.’
‘I’m not sure if I was dreaming,’ Pedro said. ‘I have been listening to your conversations; it seems that you are the one who has suffered, my son.’
Jabuti felt a little abashed at his words. ‘Come, ride by my side, and we shall talk,’ Pedro offered.
With that the small band left behind the settlement of San Antonio and rode along the thin peninsula, returning to the city of Cadiz; with one more added to their numbers.