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By
Stafford L. Battle
The horses wandered about the camp without supervision; but because of weeks of routine and strict discipline they kept their distance from the supply tents and the tempting sacks of oats. Camels used for transporting heavy loads grazed grumpily nearby on the sparse, dry weeds. Goats and sheep huddled in a hungry, noisy mass near the center of the multi-color collection of elaborate shelters. The caravan’s dogs, sharp fanged, ferocious protectors, astute herders, lay clumped together in the shade of a stunted tree along the camp’s perimeter; canine eyes and sensitive noses were fervently searching for their human masters.
The campsite was littered with wool, cotton and silk garments. Newly sharpened swords and spears, sturdy leather sandals, gold-embroidered caps, and prized personal charms were strewn about. Intricately woven bamboo serving platters filled with silver drinking goblets still wet with cactus ale were abandoned on a grassy border where the tropical forest melted into the hot desert. A large royal procession had paused here to make a sheltered temporary settlement and take a well-earned traveler’s supper before moonrise and the desert night creatures emerged to hunt.
Dog tails wagged vigorously as a woman and young male approached fast on horseback. The young man was sunbaked ebony with strong arms and thick muscular legs. Among his people, he was less than average stature; yet, he was considered a phenomenal fighter, and quite handsome by the ladies of the Sovereign’s court who towered over him. The gray-haired matron, long past her years of youthful auburn beauty, was still smooth faced, very slender, agile with a firm countenance.
They both quickly dismounted onto the sandy soil.
“Aieee! Grandmother, what sick nightmare is this?”
“Silence,” the senior woman hissed as she used her long iron staff to probe a pile of cloth stretched along the ground. “Your older brother was wearing this garish travel cape when I awoke this morning,” Makhulu said with remorse. “It’s his favorite, a gift from your father.”
The grandson gripped tightly his weapon. “Bandits? Only a great human army would dare attack Father.” He had to lift his chin to stare his grandmother in the eyes. “We must extract vengeance!”
“Lower your voice, boy.”
“But where is everyone? We were only gone since morning meal. I should have been here. I would have crushed the attackers with my war ax. “
“Shush!” She banged the sharp diamond tip of her staff on the rocky soil inches from his sandaled toes.
“Yea, honored grandmother Makhulu,” he submitted.
Makhulu sat down on a green jade encrusted stool to gather her thoughts. After long moments of contemplation, she said, “Feed the dogs.”
“Aieee! Aieee! Father, mother, my brothers and sisters, cousins and companions are vanished! My only duty should be revenge!!”
“Tie the camels together.”
“Who would brazenly attack the House of the Gold Lion!” he cried out again. “Grandmother! We must do something!”
“Start a fire, make tea,” she said calmly.
Vexed beyond his 21 years of life, he glumly responded, “Yea, Grandmother.”
Makhulu said with a sigh, “Stomping about like a bee-stung swamp buffalo will gain us nothing. This is not a natural event. Have you noticed there is no blood on the sand?”
“I don’t fear the supernatural!”
“Despite your special abilities, you should fear it greatly, dear Grandson,” said Makhulu.
“A mortal opponent that I can kill is all I ask for,” he grumbled as he poked through debris on the ground. He grimly recognized the clothing and artifacts of many of his family and close friends. He suggested to this grandmother that, “It seems their bodies were just sucked away leaving behind anything not human flesh.” He cried out in despair, “We are alone. Our entire family has been swallowed by a devil crocodile!”
“Not quite,” she replied as she stood tall and tenderly hugged her grandson’s wide shoulders and offered, “Some of our fellow travelers were on errands for your father and may have escaped this devastation. At least, they should return soon. I want the camp secured. Get your father’s sword. I saw it resting on the ground. Also, gather up his royal cloak. It is considered sacrilege to let it touch earth.”
“Though I prefer my war axes, father’s sword is not too heavy for me to wield. With it, I will slice muscle and bone like the wind through the forest. With his cloak, I shall command vast armies!”
“Zende, I need a steady man to stand by me, not a reckless, boastful youngster.” Makhulu ’s eyes moistened with sorrow. “Fate may have finally caught up with me.”
Zende lowered his gaze as he said in a softer voice, “I am a man; although I am not my father’s height. I am the smallest of my brothers and sisters. But if this is a challenge from evil gods or men, I will certainly not flounder. I can prove myself worthy.”
“Yes, Zende,” she said in admiration. “Your esteemed sire who is my beloved only son may have suffered a hideous demise or is hidden from us and needs our help. To avenge this travesty, we must step carefully and when appropriate strike hard and fast. Soon, it will be warrior time. But for the moment we must be cautious yet vigilant. So, feed the dogs, dear grandson. They may be our best early alarm and stoic defense against other hazards that may come.”
“Yea, dear Grandmother,” Zende said as he cooled his passions. “And, I will secure the camels and horses, and calm the sheep, and prepare the raspberry tea with honey-soaked biscuits that you crave. And, perhaps find a gourd of palm wine to soothe my own distress.”
Makhulu scolded, “I need your wits and strength, not drunken jests.”
“Yes, grandmother. Perhaps, I will just get a cool drink from the forest stream. There won’t be another for many days.”
“It has been a long ride. I need to bathe before we continue.”
“Yes, grandmother.”
Makhulu tugged at her clothing. “Bring my tea and biscuits to me while I refresh myself at the oasis spring.”
“But Grandmother, there are no female servants to assist you in your bath.”
“My skin greatly offends me. Before we march off to risk our lives, I must be clean. Bring fresh clothing to me. Also, you will need a sponge to scrub my back.”
“Grandmother!”
“You’ve seen a naked female.”
“Yes!”
“Just don’t forget, I am your elderly grandma,” Makhulu said simply.
* * *
On a distant desert sand dune, a man and a woman rode leisurely on camelback. The man wore a bright red cape bearing the badge of the House of the Gold Lion embroidered in rare spider silk. He was a grossly plump person riding on a severely overburdened animal.
The woman complained, “You continue to ignore my suggestion to not take any spoils from the ambush. That royal cloak belongs to their leader.”
“As I said before, a weakness of mine. Wealth and opulence are important to me. Honor and dignity are greatly over rated. Fine cloaks, good meals, strong wines, wicked women and bad-tempered young boys, Yes! I’d sell my soul for abundant pleasures any day. Gladly!”
“Do exactly as I suggest, and you will be much richer and less likely to attract trouble, master.” His companion was a small woman of pale yellow, exotic beauty who wore few wraps, yet did not suffer the disastrous effects of the desert sun on bare skin.
He complained, “You call me master, perform great feats of sorcery yet you will not give me the little things I ask for. Who is the master, who is the servant?”
She smiled coyly, “The agreement was to give you just what you needed to finish the job. I am only a tool, master.”
He laughed, “In order to complete the task, what if I require your services as a sweating, painted harlot pleasuring me in my luxurious bed at night?”
The metal flakes on her long, sharp fingernails sparkled in the sun as she said menacingly, “Then, you will have to finish the job as a mutilated, sexless eunuch, master.”
He loudly smacked his lips, “Ouch! A warrior virgin! You merely make the challenge much more delicious. The greater the risk, the greater the reward.” Then, his face twisted into a drooling grimace, “I never fail to take what I want. So, wretched little girl when this task is over, I will take what I want from you. I may throttle you bloody. I may rape you for hours. I will enjoy that. I own you! Not even our mutual employer, the Demon in the Amber Wall will argue that.”
She spat in his face.
He greedily sucked up the spittle with a coarse cow-like tongue. “Yes, we will see what happens.” He fondled a thick, irregular shaped slab of dark amber in a large leather bag tied to his waist. Lifting the crystal to his ears he bragged, “You can almost hear their little voices screaming in terror.” He hungrily licked the stone. “That should scare them even more; imprisoned in amber, naked, cold, facing the mouth of dissolution. Fabulous. I may release one or two of them just for my pleasure.”
His female cohort smirked and warned, “The camp survivors will follow us with deadly intent. I sense now that a sorceress is among them; a very skillful weaver of very powerful Afrikan magic. It is very difficult to counter that level of mystic competency.”
He stuffed the amber block back into the bag. “You didn’t tell me that tidbit BEFORE we attacked the caravan! I could have chosen a softer target.”
“She wasn’t nearby when we approached. As you say, the greater the risk, the greater the reward. However, the cloak that you dearly had to possess will guide her right to us. Elementary magic.”
He glared angrily, “Swallow, you vex me! I should cut you into tiny bite sized pieces for stew.”
“Then you would break the contract and lose everything, including your own ugly fat hide.”
Fabu grinned, “Ahh, such are the highs and lows of life.” He tore off the cape and slung it to the ground. Then he urged his mount to kneel and he ponderously slid to the sand. Standing over the robe he gloated and said, “If I must return it, I will return it well used.” He pulled down his pantaloon. “That goat cheese I ate this morning must have unsettled my stomach. Luckily I have something to clean my backside with.”
Swallow frowned, “You really are a pig.”
“Oh, do I offend you?” he grunted and farted loudly. “My dear, there is room here for two. I won’t peek while you pee. This royal wipe should be very soft against your dainty rear. Now, assist me!”
“You wish for more magic?”
“Erect a curse around this shitty, royal rag and leave it plain view. I want anyone pursuing me to be severely dealt with!” After a mighty push and long smear, he tied his pantaloon and mounted his snorting camel, wiping his fingers on the camel’s hump. He stared at Swallow curiously, “Recently, I have not seen you relieve yourself nor drink nor eat.”
She finished her lethal enchantment and said merely, “I’ve become a very private person since my travels with you.” She tossed four small eggs onto the sand. With a minor motion of her fingers, the eggs began to swell in size as they sank down out of sight.
Fabu said, “Let’s hurry. My mercenaries are still a half day’s ride away. With this final delivery of captured souls, I look forward to my payment and a romantic interlude with you.”
* * *
The caravan’s younger dogs joyfully chased the sheep into a tight circle. The older dogs stealthily prowled the perimeters chasing away scorpions and sand vipers. Camels were watered and kneeling on the ground for a rest. A slim fraction of the people from the House of the Gold Lion went about the duties to put the caravan in order for the night.
Zende ran to his Grandmother, “I’ve search everywhere. It’s not here.” In fact, everyone who had returned had been carefully collecting and storing the belongings of their missing comrades, but his father’s royal robe was not found.
Makhulu, refreshed and glowing with vigor, responded cheerfully, “I sense that it is not far from here. The Gold Lion may still be alive!” A ragged cheer rose from the survivors.
Happily surprised, Zende asked, “How did you know?”
“Basic sorcery, which worries me.” She turned to face the few travelers present. “My grandson and I need four warriors. We face a crafty demon and its servants.” Everyone came forward. “Zende, make your selection.”
“Me?” he said.
She took him aside, “You are sole heir and leader for now.”
“But— “
She whispered, “Walk through the camp. When I tap my staff on the earth, make your selection."
Zende proudly swelled to his full height which brought him to the nose of some of the shortest people. He walked confidently towards a woman who had been gathering herbs for dinner when the family was attacked. “You,” Zende said deepening his voice. The cook smiled.
Makhulu had not tapped her staff to the ground. She scowled, “Are you sure, honored Zende? She is just a cook.”
Zende stayed firm, “Yea! Her knowledge of wild flora will keep us from starvation and cure our hurts. Her skills with a knife will deter dangerous animals and keep at bay human enemies.”
“Wise choice,” winked Grandmother. “I will wait here, while you make your final selections.”
In quick order, the four warriors—a cook, a herdsman, a runner, and a drummer—were selected by Zende. They hurriedly made preparations to ride on a solitary expedition. Just before dawn, they bid their goodbyes but instead of fast horses, they rode upon four sturdy war camels with two cargo camels in tow as they traveled into the desert.
“We have water and food for 10 days,” said Zende.
“More than enough. A secret religious sect has a monastery only 7 days towards the North. Our adversaries traveled in that same direction,” advised Makhulu.
The night wind had erased any tracks but the herdsman found traces of camel spoor to use as a beacon. The riders were carefully wrapped from head to toe in white travel robes as the sun rose higher in the sky and most sensible animals had hidden themselves from the oppressive heat. There was little conversation and the soft padding on the camel’s feet allowed a sure-footed and silent passage.
Makhulu encouraged Zende to take the lead which he humbly accepted for many miles. As they reached the top of a dune, the Drummer spotted a speck of cloth fluttering in the hot wind.
“Father’s robe!” yelled Zende and he kicked his lumbering steed into a fast trot down the hill.
“Wait! Grandson, Wait!” Makhulu halted the progress of the others before kicking her own mount into a desperate run to stop her grandson. “Zende, don’t approach the robe!”
The sands around the royal gown began to vibrate.
Makhulu caught up with Zende, grabbed the reins and yanked his camel to a halt. Angrily, she dismounted and declared, “Step carefully and when appropriate strike hard and fast! Do you understand, Zende?!”
“But that is Father’s royal attire, half buried in the sand! He must be nearby. What’s that awful smell?” The ground erupted around Zende! Razor sharp teeth exploded out of the sand and clamped hard on his camel’s neck nearly snapping it completely off. Arterial blood gushed from the deadly bite.
“Grandson!”
But Zende had already leaped off his hapless mount, hit the sand and dodged instinctively as he had been taught and chose a random direction to leap, roll and stand. That move saved his life. He was much faster and more agile than his brothers and sisters as well as superior with his favorite weapons. He whirled his war ax in several blocking maneuvers which banged hard against the armored jaw of the creature that had emerged from the sand and was attempting to clamp down on his torso. Zende’s hits were effective enough to slow the creature’s attack and the stunned reptile slunk back displaying rapid head movements and uttering high pitched clicks. All this happened in less than a moment and Zende still wasn’t sure what had attacked him. The sand vibrated again. He shouted, “Grandmother, Sunside!”
With the swiftness of a professional acrobat, Makhulu leaped high as another massive set of jaws snapped shut where a moment ago, she had been standing. The nightmare beast that swam out of the sand, stood humanlike on two powerful legs but with a long bony tail that whipped about anxiously; it had an impressive row of teeth in his mouth. But it was the large eyes hinting cunning and intelligence rather than brute strength that ruled this prehistoric predator.
“Back!” yelled Zende as he fast stepped forward and attempted again to lop off the head of the monster threatening his grandmother by using one chop with his ax, but again the blow failed to penetrate or severely wound the creature; Zende flipped several times backwards to avoid the rapid retaliatory strikes of the reptilian attacker. He didn’t doubt that one blow from the wildly whipping tail would knock him senseless and shatter human bones.
His grandmother moved swiftly with the grace of a circus dancer and twirled into position to protect the backside of her grandson as the ground erupted anew. But she was ready with her staff and speared the sudden attacker through the gelatinous eyeball and out the back of its skull. She barely flinched as in its death throes, the beast snagged her robe in its forearm claws and ripped it off her body. Her silver hair flowed freely as she nimbly landed and adjusted her scant clothing for modesty revealing a small waist, firm thighs and uplifted breasts. Back to back, neither grandmother nor grandson were breathing hard; they both were confident and surefooted. “Grandson, let none of these beasts survive to warn their master. Aim for the soft parts.”
“Like this,” he screamed as he charged fearlessly forward, lowering his weapon, exposing his own belly, but as the creature lunged at the tempting target, Zende side stepped the snapping jaw and raked his sharp ax along the creature’s unprotected throat and chest. Zende was rewarded by a violent gush of hot blood and guts. The animal screeched in terrible anguish then tumbled twitching to the ground almost pinning down Zende who had to dexterously slip away from the steaming carcass. By now Zende had a full measure of these animals’ strengths and weaknesses.
“There are still two creatures circling cautiously, Grandson. Do you need help from an old woman?”
“Nay, Grandmother. Enjoy the warm breeze. Make some tea! We’ll roast lizard for supper!” He joyfully charged the two perplexed ancient monsters. With three vicious cuts from his war ax, the battle was over. He trotted back with a large chunk of lizard tail for the fire and exclaimed, “Grandmother, your clothing!”
She smiled, embracing the wind with every pore of her bare skin. She grinned, “You’ve never seen a half-naked female warrior, before?” She flexed her slim muscles. “Am I appealing?”
“Grandmother!”
“Thank you! But be a good grandson, lend me your outer garment.” She stared into the heavens and her playful temperament changed. “Something is not right! Gather your father’s royal robe.”
“It stinks!”
“Clean it with dry sand, later. Act quickly, dear Grandson.”
* * *
From a nearby sand dune, many anxious eyes had secretly watched the battle. Wet globs of saliva poured onto the sand from the open mouth of Fabu the Fat Merchant. He exclaimed softly, “Damnations! By the eternal dark Gods! I’m glad we returned! That Afrikan goddess and her black battle troll are the finest gladiators I have ever seen! That woman makes me firm in all the right places. So, make ready my best fighters to kill the bitch!”
Swallow, his reluctant companion, suggested, “I brought you back here, because, she would make an exceptional addition to our collection of souls.”
“She is too dangerous! Your reptilian pets were slaughtered effortlessly.”
“The Demon in the Wall may consider a renegotiation for these minor add-on services.”
Fabu the Fat raised his fleshy arm to thrust 1000 battle hardened, mercenaries into action. But before committing his troops, he hesitated and asked Swallow, “What would your Demon offer?”
“Me, willingly, for all your carnal fantasies,” she said flatly.
“You no longer interest me that much, little bird girl.”
“More gold and diamonds,” suggested Swallow.
“I’m wealthier than most of the Kings on earth, combined.”
“Immortality?”
“I suspect it would be tedious and boring.”
“The Demon in the Wall is not amused.”
“Then offer me something I want, before I send 1000 men to utterly slaughter those 6 humans that are so damn important to your Demon Lord. So, think, bird girl. What is it that I want?”
Swallow frowned, “Fun, entertainment.”
“YES! Give me a few hours with the Afrikan Witchwoman to do whatever I want. Also, I want the gold, immortality, and of course you, little birdie, willingly into my bed; no, I want you unwilling, scratching and clawing. That is my demand to capture her soul and deliver the final crystal to the Demon in the Wall.”
After a moment of contemplation, Swallow said with a trace of displeasure, “Done.”
“Fabulous!” Fabu approached her and cruelly squeezed her small breasts. He pinched her nipples hard between his finger and thumb. Swallow accepted his painful groping with no complaint. Satisfied, he said, “We must play this out elegantly. I will send a token force of men to distract the beautiful Black Goddess. While she is busy, fling this in her sweet brown flesh.” Fabu produced several small darts. “It is coated with a virulent narcotic; one is enough to stop an elephant or at least slowdown a bad tempered witchwoman. But also, you must bind her magics, befuddle her senses, make her more accepting of her fate. Then bring her to my special place.”
“The enchantment will only last for a few hours. As I said, she is very strong.”
“Ah, my pleasures are so fleeting.
“What about the powerful, young male who accompanies her?”
“Do as you please. Occupy his time until I am finished. Maybe, we should make it a foursome!”
“I need a few moments to bait the trap.” She quickly stripped off her clothing until she was wearing only a loose, open front vest and short loin cloth around her waist that left very little to the imagination. “As soon as I get to the top of the dune, send a few expendable men to ravish me.”
“Ohhhh, I truly, truly love this!” Fabu squirmed in anticipation. “If all goes well, I may free your commitment to me after only a single tryst with you.”
* * *
“Grandmother, there is a large gathering of soldiers over the next rise in the valley.”
“We must avoid them for now. We can hide in this maze of dunes. I have allies at the monastery. It is due east. Send our comrades back to our people, to protect them.”
“But—”
“There is very powerful magic afoot. We are facing more than an ordinary, cast-out demon. I want the remnants of our family beyond the range of this evil rampage. The demon has influence, guile, and vile humans in its employ. As we approach the center of its power, I can only guarantee a marginal safety for you and me.”
“Yes, Grandmother.”
“Grandson.”
“Yes, Grandmother.”
“We make a good team; everything will be alright.”
“My heart is hurting for our missing family,” confessed Zende.
“My heart hurts too,” said Makhulu. “And I will not lose you.” They embraced tightly.
#
Swallow ran barefoot up the sand hill and paused for a moment to allow Fabu’s selected men to see her. Lustily, they gave chase as they were told she was the prize if they could subdue her. She screamed!
“Grandmother, that girl is in trouble.” Zende charged up the hill.
“Grandson, wait!” But he easily outdistanced her on foot as he swung his battle ax in a rapid circle over his head. She had no doubt he could handle himself well against mortal men but there were magic forces building up. A tangible thickness in the air that slowed her movements. She stopped to focus her own energies in defense just as Zende clashed into the first wave of attackers. Abandoning her magics for the moment, she considered it more prudent to use traditional methods, as she shook herself free of the lethargy and charged into the fray. Makhulu only spared a moment to glance behind her grandson at the young woman who appeared collapsed from her run on the sand. Six of the enemy fighters were down permanently; several others were grievously wounded beyond the ability to cause mischief but now the entire camp seemed to have been alerted. Zende was grinning like a manic hyena. He held a war ax in each hand and was a truly fearsome sight to behold. However, soon, hundreds of soldiers would be swarming up the dune. She and Zende would have to escape, now. They could lose themselves among the many sand dunes. But as she sought to relay this tactic to him, she felt a sting, burning deep into the back of her neck. Almost immediately, her vision blurred. “Grandson, trickery!”
Zende had frightened his adversaries such that they all retreated back to wait for reinforcements. He swirled around. “Grandmother!” He caught her in his arms.
“Grandson, beware.” Her eyes glowed brightly for a moment as she said, “Remember this.” She touched his forehead.
Suddenly, Zende felt the sting of several poisoned darts on the back of his neck. Rapidly, he slipped into the grasp of black unconsciousness.
* * *
“Are you awake?”
Zende tried to stand but his body wouldn’t obey his wishes. He strained mightily to force his muscles to respond. A lesser man would have fainted from the exertions.
“Are you awake?” the voice queried again.
“Grandmother?”
“The Demon in the Wall took her away. You saved me.”
“Demon?” asked Zende as once again he strained to sit-up.
“Don’t hurt yourself. You were poisoned. But the effects should wear off soon. Let me help you.” The woman embraced Zende and helped him to sit up. “Drink this.”
He slurped noisily a sour smelling liquid but immediately he felt more control over his muscles.
“My name is Swallow. I was betrayed. The Demon in the Wall is a foul, lying dog! He will rot in the hell, soon. My father will see to that. There was a fierce battle when my father’s loyal guards arrived just in time but we were unable to retrieve your princess from the Demon’s mercenary forces.”
“She is my grandmother. I must go to her.”
“Rest. I owe you my life. My father also is very grateful. He will help you vanquish this evil and rescue your grandmother.”
Indeed, Zende was still very weak. “Water.”
Swallow poured a generous goblet of cool water. She held it to his lips, allowing him to drink. “Slowly, my hero.” She smiled as her translucent silk robes cling to her small but shapely body. Her perfumed hair filled the room with the scent of lotus blossoms. She openly admired Zende and said, “You are a very strong and quite handsome man. You must have many women.”
“No.”
“Are you a male virgin?”
“NO! I need my weapons,” the closeness of the yellow skinned girl was tantalizing to Zende, but he had more urgent matters to attend.
“Everything is here.”
“Where are we?”
“In my father’s palace near the Monastery.”
“Where is my Grandmother?”
“Nearby. My father has gone to repay his debt to you by rescuing her from a dungeon.” Swallow pushed gently on his chest. “You still are too weak. But I can make you strong, stronger than any man alive. You could become a great ruler.” She began to massage his muscles. “This cream will bring back the life that the Demon’s evil poison almost took away.” She straddled Zende’s chest. “While I have you alone, I have to thank you in my own special way.” She pressed her cheek against his forehead.
At the height of his strength, Zende could have lifted the tiny female with very little effort, but now he was weak as a babe so reluctantly he allowed Swallow’s sensual administrations as his vigor and enthusiasm improved.
* * *
“Are you awake?” whispered a man’s voice in the slimy darkness. Only a distant candle offered slight illumination.
Makhulu slowly regained some of her senses but she was very weak and seemed incapable of even the slightest magics to free herself. She struggled vainly against the taut leather straps that bound her.
“What has happened to me?” she croaked. The jail was filthy and sewer water dripped down the fungus stained walls.
“You were poisoned.”
“Why am I so weak, powerless?”
“The Demon in the Wall stole your special abilities as you fell unconscious from a powerful narcotic. It sought to steal your power to free itself and its hordes. We stopped that from happening.”
“So, the legends are true?”
“There are ancient deities from the dim past that seek to reclaim the earth and rebirth giant reptiles to rule. Men will perish like worms beneath their feet.”
“My grandson?”
“He is dangerously near death. But my daughter Swallow will do her best to save him. Can you dance?”
“Dance?”
“When we emerge in the palace you will be disguised as a dancing slave girl. In fact, I will have to buy you to make good your escape.”
“What is your name?”
“Fabu, a humble merchant at your service, my lady.”
“Why do you help me?”
“Your companion, the dark-skinned gladiator rescued my only daughter from the human mercenaries of the Demon in the Wall. I humbly seek to repay the debt.” Fabu stepped out of the shadows, wearing the generous regalia of a successful merchant prince. He gasped as she saw Makhulu’s tightly muscled body and firm breasts. He said sincerely, “You truly are beautiful. Forgive me for staring.”
“Cut me loose.”
“Yes, yes, of course, Please pardon an old fool.” He produced a sharp blade and sliced the leather bindings with ease.
“Give me the knife.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Makhulu snatched the blade and pressed it tightly against Fabu’s neck. He didn’t seem distraught. “My lady, have I offended you?”
“Who stuck me with the poison dart?”
“My daughter, Swallow, of course. The girl in the sand. It was our ploy to save you. The demon knew you were coming.”
Makhulu’s eye’s narrowed as she pressed the knife deeper into Fabu’s flabby flesh. “Why?” Her thoughts were still spinning from the effects of the drug.
“You are a very powerful weaver of Afrikan magic. The Demon in the Wall fears you greatly. That makes you a very valuable ally for anyone opposing the demon. We had to make it appear that you were eliminated at least temporarily. The drug simulates death. The Demon will not sense you. In a few hours, your full powers will return.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“The Demon has your family imprisoned in a block of amber. I know where it is hidden.”
She released him and returned the knife. “I will be watching you closely. Obviously, other than being a rather gaudy, perfumed and large man, there may be some depth to you.”
Fabu smiled hungrily and replied, “Fabulous! Strong, willful, beautiful. You are a most exquisite woman. I wilt in your holy presence. Pardon, my manners, I brought clothing appropriate for our deception, my lady. I can also provide food and drink in my private quarters; to give you strength before the dancing competition begins.”
Makhulu welcomed the elegant but sparse clothing, however she complained, “I really need a bath.”
Fabu’s spontaneous grin nearly split his face. “Of course!”
“You have a harem, I suppose,” she said as she squeezed into the tight jeweled bodice and narrow skirt.
“A man in my position is expected to have a harem giddy with females and pre-adolescent boys. But mine consists mostly of deserving orphaned girls that I rescued from poverty. These young ladies are properly instructed and can serve you well as your handmaidens for our limited time together. Quite frankly, I lack a Queen to help manage my rather substantial empire and rule by my side. My table is large enough for two.”
“You are a smooth talker and a rather massive man. Are you noble or scoundrel?”
“I am nimble and gentle and generous at times.”
Makhulu approached and allowed Fabu to hold her hand and escort her out of the foul dungeon. She smiled, “There is considerable strength and grace in your movements. You displayed no fear even with a knife at your throat.”
He preened proudly and revealed, “In the far east, men of my bulk, muscle, and agility were honored as prized entertainers for the emperors. As a youth, I financed my merchant empire by crushing the life out of more trim and handsome men who underestimated my raw power and speed. Never bet against fast fat.”
Makhulu paused to place her hand on his massive chest and said simply, “Thank you for rescuing me. I pray I will not regret this. Forgive me, I still must be giddy from the poison.” She planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Now, I need a gilded tub overflowing with warm, scented water, and I am famished. I hope you have a large feast prepared, perhaps some honey-soaked biscuits and raspberry tea. We can eat and talk while I bath. I have a family to save.”
Fabu almost reversed his intricate schemes in that moment to pursue another long-lost dream. Unfortunately, mechanisms had been initiated that at the moment even he dared not deviate from.
* * *
Zende flexed his arms. He appeared supremely confident as he twirled both his wax axes like feather weight circus batons. His legs had regained their vigor and he had no trouble executing strenuous leaps and back flips.
Swallow offered a petite tray of chocolate coated crabapples and sparkling wine. She advised, “My hero, do not over exert yourself. Although, for a human, you recuperate very quickly, I beg you to consider more rest. I can be very pleasing to you while we recline. I would enjoy that.”
“Aieee! Aieee! Father, mother, my brothers and sisters, cousins and companions are vanished! My only duty is revenge!! Sorry.”
“Your family is not dead. The Demon in the Wall has them. I can take you to him.”
Zende stopped for a moment, then realized aloud, “No! I must aid Grandmother first. Combining her magic and my ax, we are unstoppable. Where is your father?”
“Not far.” Swallow stepped to a velvet cord and tugged hard.
“Which direction?” demanded Zende as his senses prickled. Something was amiss. His grandmother’s last instructions came quickly to mind.
Swallow yelled angrily. “We could have spent pleasant time together, you witless idiot! You would have enjoyed your last few hours alive. Instead you will suffer.” She turned her head back further than naturally possible and uttered a rapid series of high-pitched clicking noises. “You and your species will no longer be rulers of this planet. We will take back our home.”
Heavy, clawed feet pounded up a hidden stairwell. Growls and clicks echoed as Swallow began to shed her human skin. She screeched, “I chose the name Swallow not because of a pitiful bird. It describes most accurately what I do to food animals like you.”
Amazed by the slow transformation, Zende asked, “What are you?”
“An ancient creature from the bowels of the earth. The God in the Wall promised our resurgence if we did his bidding.”
Zende frowned, “Glad I didn’t kiss you! Grandmother again was correct in her assumptions! She is a far better sorceress than you.” He attacked his adversaries.
In her long service to the Demon in the Wall, this was the first time Swallow had experienced fear as she witnessed Zende crash into her reptilian children like a whirlwind blade of death. He slipped between, over and under them with far greater speed and precision than she had ever witness in a battle before. Zende’s weapons cut through her scaly brood as if they were plucked chickens on a butcher block. Grinning ferociously, standing knee deep in blood and guts, Zende screamed, “AIEEE!! Grandmother! I sense you. Your powers have returned! I will be there quickly.”
Swallow had nearly finished shedding her human skin. She raged, “Behold! I am one of the transformed, a combination of animal species. In a moment, I will utterly destroy you!” She strained to finish her metamorphosis from frail human to towering ancient killer.
“Moment’s over!” said Zende as he dissected a stunned Swallow into many small chunks of flesh and bone then dodged past her. In a blur of arms and legs, he sped deep down the dark corridors eager to locate and destroy the nest where the vicious predators had emerged.
Fabu the Fabulous was extremely pleased with the dance. Never before had he been so thoroughly aroused by a woman who playfully pranced and tickled his belly as he sucked down gallons of bubbling wine. She taunted him in countless ways so that he had dismissed the other girls, sent the musicians away and told all but one of his personal guards to pleasure themselves elsewhere. He made himself more comfortable in his mass of silk pillows chewing greedily into a shank of roast lamb as the final act was concluding and Makhulu was down to her last veil, a shimmering gold strip of cloth that only wrapped twice around her body.
He burped loudly, “Encore, Encore, my succulent brown queen! If only there was more time. Quickly, let me remove my pantaloon and we may still be able to consummate your freedom.”
Makhulu’s eyes glowed with renewed awareness. “Of course, my fat king. Let me help you with those bindings.”
Fabu drooled in utter happiness as she snuggled up close beside him. He eagerly wrapped his flabby arms around her slender waist.
A guard’s head bloodily bounced across the stage and slid to a messy stop nears Fabu’s padded slippers. Fabu again felt the icy caress of his own blade pressed tightly against his tender windpipe under his chin.
She hissed, “I want my family back, NOW!”
The sharp edge of the knife on Fabu’s throat threatened to end his days of breathing forever. He wheezed painfully, “My queen, you wrong me.”
“Grandson!”
“Grandmother!” He hurriedly crossed the dancing platform. “Your clothing?!” exclaimed Zende who was covered from head to toe with the messy life fluids of his foes.
“I got a little too involved with the spirit of the dance,” his grandmother confessed.
Fabu’s eyes were wide with fright as Zende approached dripping blood and gore with every step.
Makhulu said again to Fabu, “You and your demon stole my family! I want them BACK!” She eased the pressure just a tiny bit on his throat allowing him to speak clearly.
Fabu croaked, “I can explain. There is no need for more killing.”
“SPEAK, slug!!” Zende shook the blood from his war axes in preparation for action.
Fabu coughed and said, “They are alive! Please, don’t kill me! But only Swallow can break the spell!”
Zende rumbled, “Swallow is in tiny little pieces.”
Fabu exclaimed incredulously, “But the Demon in the Wall—”
“Is powerless against us. Someone on this side of the barrier must act for him,” revealed Makhulu. “Grandson, perhaps you could trim a little of the fat off Fabu, the Fabulous.”
“Gladly!!”
“Wait! Please! If Swallow is dead, all we have to do is smash the crystal.” He slid his hand under a pillow and produced the bag with the amber block.
Zende snatched the crystal away from Fabu and peered closely at it. “I can hear voices, calling my name. Grandmother, what should I do?”
Makhulu said grimly to Fabu, “If you are lying and any of my family is slightly harmed . . .”
“I know, I know. But I have done this many times. Shatter the crystal and the souls and bodies will be restored. Unharmed,” said Fabu.
Zende dropped his ax on top of the amber crystal and smashed it into tiny fragments. Immediately, he heard his Father, mother, and others in his family sing out joyously. For a moment, Zende could even see them smiling and hugging each other back at the caravan. Then the image faded.
Makhulu smiled and said, “Now, be a good grandson and fetch the rest of my attire on the table behind the curtain. It’s very expensive. I don’t want it torn.” She peeled herself away from Fabu’s sticky embrace to clothe herself for travel.
“Yes, honored Grandmother.”
“We thank you Fabu for not sacrificing our family to the Demon. The spell is broken and our people are back in camp, naked, but safe.”
As he gave the garments to his Grandmother, Zende’s eyes narrowed and he frown angrily. “Did Fabu put his filthy hands on you?”
Grandmother said, “He was a complete gentleman.”
Zende scowled, “Fabu is a sack of camel dung who most likely fouled my father’s best royal robe with human excrement!”
Fabu was aghast, “That’s disgusting! I would never commit such an uncivilized and loathsome act.” He reached for a drink of red wine but spilled most of it all over his white linen shirt as he tried to put the chalice to his lips. He licked his fingers clean.
Zende tucked away his war axes. He plopped down beside Fabu and poured a hefty goblet of expensive palm liquor while grabbing a fistful of delicate sweet cakes.
Makhulu admonished, “Be careful, Zende. Strong drink makes you violent.”
Zende acknowledged with a quick nod as he drained a second glass of liquor. “When can I kill the Demon in the Wall?”
Makhulu answered solemnly, “Difficult to say. It is an ancient God that lives in every wall ever constructed by human hands. It whispers to the unwary, mixing wisdom with dastardly lies; offering riches and power if you do its bidding. The largest citadels down to the humblest stone structures can harbor it. That is one of the reasons your father prefers the nomadic life; living in tents and temporary structures the demon can’t infiltrate. Occasionally, in ancient ruins, the demon influences dangerous mystical beings like Swallow to do its biddings. That’s probably why Swallow was attracted to you; to procreate with a strong human male and breed more monsters for the Demon in the Wall. Were you intimate with Swallow?”
Zende protested loudly, “I’m not that stupid or desperate!” More thoughtfully, he added, “So, those were her offspring that I happily butchered. No wonder she was pissed.”
Grandmother shrugged, “It’s them or us. And their time has passed. Only a few of her species survive in the dark corners of the world.”
“The man-reptiles were smart but not adaptable to variations in my fighting styles. About 30 attacked me. I searched for more and I smashed hundreds of eggs. Nothing escaped me!”
Fabu warned, “They breed like insects. Even an elephant can be overcome by swarms of fire ants. I am so thankful and proud to have assisted the beautiful Makhulu in putting an end to this potentially calamitous plague threatening humankind.”
Makhulu frowned, “So you graciously say. You must have gotten very rich by working with the Demon in the Wall and ghastly creatures like Sparrow against your own kind.”
“I was craftily misled,” Fabu pleaded as he finally got a full glass of wine onto his trembling lips.
Makhulu told her grandson, “Let’s go back to our family, we will have no trouble from the rest of Fabu’s men.” But before they departed, she leaned down and planted a small kiss on Fabu’s wine stained cheek. “I enjoyed the dance,” she said.
Fabu smiled broadly and risked to say, “But we never finished.”
Instantly, Zende cast a very dangerous glare at Fabu.
“Fabu, be a good boy,” warned Makhulu. “We will be watching.”
Fabu the Fortunate breathed a sigh of relief and uttered, “Oh well, the greater the risks...”
