Читать книгу The Song of Mawu - Jeff Edwards - Страница 6

Prologue

Mawu the moon goddess, bestower of fertility and motherhood, sister to the sun god Lisa, shone her silvery light upon the small forest glade where the young doe nibbled gently at a tuft of lush grass. She was in season for the first time and even as she ate the doe was aware of the almost imperceptable vibrations transmitted through the forest floor by the approach of the stag. A shiver of anticipation passed through her slim body.

Loko, the god of the trees and forests, watched on from up high. He was all too familiar with the tabeleu which was about to take place and relished in watching the stag’s performance. Loko knew that with the great stag’s seed within her, the doe’s offspring would be healthy and strong, thereby ensuring the survival of the herd and the valuable part they played in the life cycle of his forest.

The doe’s ears twitched and she ceased cropping just as a forminable shadow entered the clearing, brought unerringly to this spot by her scent. She remained silent with her head held high as the stag drew near and began nuzzling at her flanks.

Sure now that the doe was in season, the stag mounted his willing partner and thrust deep within her.

From his vantage point among the tree tops Loko smiled. The great stag has done his duty yet again.

***

Unseen by the mesmerised Loko, and undetected by the rutting animals, Rang, the god of hunting, leaned on his mighty spear while he too watched the mating pair, and waited for his opportunity.

Rang had been following the great stag for some time now and knew that the stag’s moment of truth was at hand. Earlier, Rang had watched while the old warrior had successfully fought off all the young contenders and proven yet again that he and he alone deserved the right to impregnate the females of the herd.

Now the great stag dropped back off the doe. His last.

Rang nodded silently toward him. Well done great one, but now your time has come.

While following the great stag, Rang had noted that this season he had only just been successful in overcoming his rivals and knew that next season he would surely fail, and be replaced by a younger rival.

Even as he mounted this doe, Rang had seen the quivering of the stag’s hind legs as he strived to support his immense body in the act of impregnating his partner, and Rang understood that this was another sign of the great stag’s decline.

The gods will sing your praises old man as they dine upon your fine flesh.

‘Shine your light so that my aim might be true,’ Rang whispered to his wife.

‘It will be so,’ smiled Mawu from on high.

With their coupling now complete the doe returned to her grazing and slowly edged away from the great stag as he too dropped his head to crop at the sweet dewy grass.

Suddenly, the stag gave a short cry of alarm and the doe reacted instinctively, leaping away and dashing for refuge in the deep forest. Her tawny coat disguised her and she disappeared into the dappled undergrowth without a backward glance.

Behind her, the great stag collapsed with Rang’s spear embedded deep in his side.

‘No!’ yelled a shocked Loko, hardly believing what he had seen. He turned despairingly in the direction from which the spear had come. ‘You murderer!’ he screamed shrilly at Rang

Unperturbed by Loko’s angry cry, the hunter approached the great stag and noted that life still flickered within the great body. He knelt and despatched the animal with a slash of his knife to its throat and saved it from any further pain.

Placing one foot on the warm body, he pulled hard to retrieve his spear, which he then placed to one side.

Crazed with dispair, Loko rushed into the glade as Rang continued to kneel beside the dead stag and prepared it for butchering.

‘Murderer!’

Rang had heard Loko’s approach, but didn’t bother to stop his work. Quietly he went about his preparations and said calmly over his shoulder, ‘Unlike you Loko, my fellow gods enjoy the taste of meat.’

This was not the first time that the pair had clashed. As usual it was over Rang’s duties as hunter and supplier of meat to the god’s larder. However, both knew that there was a deeper reason for Loko’s animosity toward Rang.

Many seasons before, both gods had fallen in love with Mawu and had sought her brother Lisa’s permission to take the beautiful moon goddess as their wife. Lisa had taken their requests to his sister, and after much time in assessing the qualities of the two suitors had chosen the fair hunter Rang over the more petulant Loko.

This rejection had rankled with the god of the forests who wrongly believed that the choice had been made on their looks alone. Now he sought every opportunity to try to show the gods that Mawu’s choice had been an act of folly. However, they recognised his futile attempts for what they were and scorned him for his bad manners.

Now Rang continued to ignore Loko’s presence as he went about his bloody work and this raised Loko’s ire even more. ‘You murdered the finest animal in the forest!’

‘I allowed him to perform his duties,’ replied Rang with simple logic. ‘He wouldn’t have survived another season as the master of the herd. Now go away and let me get on with my work.’

Loko was infuriated by Rang’s dismissal, ‘How dare you speak to me like that! I’m an important dignitary.’

‘You’re a fool and a laughing stock. Go back to pampering your beloved trees,’ smiled Rang without turning around, ‘and let a true warrior get on with his work. No wonder my wife wanted nothing to do with you,’ he added.

Loko felt as though he had been slapped across the face. Already in a blinding rage, he reacted instinctively to the jibe. Snatching up Rang’s spear, he drove the point deep into the hunter’s exposed back.

Rang screamed in pain as his body arched backward and blood fountained from the wound, splashing over Loko’s tunic.

Shocked at what he had done, Loko stood rooted to the spot, staring down at his mortally wounded adversary. Suddenly he realized that a heavy price would be demanded for his unthinking actions and he fled the scene of bloody death.

***

From high above Mawu saw the deadly spear being driven home, and heard her husband’s scream of mortal pain.

Her own scream of anguish reverberated throughout the land, as she rushed to her husband’s side, as Loko disappeared amongst his trees.

Cradling Rang’s fair head, Mawu knew that her husband’s life-force was quickly leaving him and that there was nothing she could do to stop the inevitable.

His eyes fluttered open and the hunter smiled at her for the last time while her own heart began to break. Sobbing, she began to croon a soft sweet song of love to him.

Her song became louder as she kissed his brow, and they held hands as his life slipped away. As his eyes closed for the last time, tears coursed down her cheeks and the song of love turned to one of anguish and misery.

***

Lisa, the sun god, heard the sounds of his sister’s anguish and followed the song of doom until he came upon his sister cradling the great hunter’s lifeless body. Her song was now of such pain that the whole land fell to crying as well.

The gods buried Rang where he fell, wrapping his body in the skin of the great stag, while singing songs to his glory. They sang of his great feats in hunting and in battle, and they sang of the goodness of his spirit.

When all the songs were done, Mawu took up the refrain once more, but this time it was a song of love departed, a love that could never be replaced. Finally, she left the gathering of gods and returned to her place in the sky to travel its pathways alone until the end of days.

***

With Mawu now returned to her proper place in the heavens, Lisa knew that the time had come for Rang’s killer to be found and retribution decided.

Until now the gods had refrained from bringing Loko before them. They all understood that any justice to be dealt out must be done fairly and not in a climate of anger.

***

Rising high above the earth, Lisa and his fellow gods looked for Loko, calling upon the woods and its trees to reveal the hiding place of their keeper.

However, Loko had been allowed time to prepare. He had spread the word among his followers throughout the woods exclaiming that it had been the evil work of Rang that had resulted in the death of the great stag. He told them that Rang had been killed by Loko in a fight to defend the mighty stag. According to Loko, it was Mawu who had falsely accused him of murder and that Lisa had believed his lying sister and was now attempting to destroy an innocent person.

Believing their guardian, the trees and forests sought to protect Loko by hiding the god from the eyes of Lisa. They refused to help in any way and so Loko was able to remain hidden for many years.

***

The area in which Loko now chose to dwell was a lush and wonderous place. Fed by a clear, pure spring, the valley was filled with ancient towering trees and its thick woods abounding with all manner of animals and birds. The very thickness of the canopy of leaves and branches provided the cover needed to defy Lisa’s prying eyes.

However, a disheartened crow, banished from his realm by Loko for feeding upon the dead carcass of a fellow crow, sought revenge for this perceived slight and revealed Loko’s hiding place to Lisa.

‘Finally!’ roared the sun god as he rose threateningly into the sky.

He positioned himself over the lush valley and called in a clear and commanding voice for Loko to come forth.

Loko cowered in the darkness beneath the outstretched arms of the trees and defied Lisa’s demands.

Lisa then called on the trees to pull back their web of leaves to reveal Loko’s presence, but they had believed their master’s Loko’s story and refused to help.

‘I will destroy you all if you do not reveal the murderer to me,’ demanded Lisa, but Loko whispered to them, ‘Ignore him. He can do nothing. He’s too far away.’

Once again Lisa’s demands were refused.

Angry now, Lisa poured forth a beam of heat upon the woods below him. At first there was only an uncomfortable heat among the tree tops but as Lisa’s anger grew the heat intensified. The green leaves were sapped of their vital juices and withered, before dropping to the ground. One by one the trees were denuded until the ground below, now thick with the dead leaves, could clearly be seen.

Still the heat mounted and the dead leaves burst into flame, which set the trees themselves on fire.

Lisa could now see the hiding Loko and the power of his rays increased. Loko ran from Lisa’s anger and tried to avoid the oncoming flames by constantly changing direction beneath the overhanging branches, but Lisa was not to be cheated and flames erupted wherever Loko went. Finally, the forest god was completely surrounded by raging flames.

In utter desperation Loko attempted to break through the ring of fire, but the heat was so intense that he collapsed a few strides short of open ground.

Lisa continued to pour his heat down upon the hapless Loko, until the god’s screams of agony were finally extinguished and his body was reduced to a pile of ash.

Then Lisa took his revenge upon the woods that had sought to hide Loko, destroying them utterly and leaving behind a landscape of rocks and ash, where nothing living remained.

Desolation is to be the fate of this valley, Lisa declared, and it shall be known from this day on as Ashloko, the place of Loko’s ashes and a land to be feared.

***

From her place in the sky, the song of Mawu’s lament was sometimes heard by mortals, and the women to whom Mawu meant so much, listened to it and passed the song down from daughter to daughter through the generations. The love story of Rang and Mawu, and the evil of Loko was told to all children as an example of how powerful the gods can be and how devastating was their revenge.

***

Despite the trappings of civilisation and modern learning that came to the country of Namola in the twenty first century, the story of Rang and Mawu continued to be told.

From its busy capital city of Lobacra to the most distant village, the songs were sung and the story told over and over again. While none claimed to still believe the tale as anything other than legend, it remained an integral part of the psychie of all the citizens.

Often, the troubles that befell the people of Namola were laughingly placed at the feet of the evil Loko and despite protestations of disbelief there was always an unspoken undercurrent of superstition that said, ‘What if the legends are true?’

10 Years Ago

As the most successful businessman and largest landowner in the province, the local populace looked up to Chand Zibu. And as the economic situation continued to deteriorate, he had quite naturally become the leader of a group of like minded farmers and businessmen who banded together in an attempt to find a way to remedy the crisis.

They all knew that the country’s current administration was totally corrupt and had to be removed, and Chand Zibu’s friends had decided that they would form an opposition party to take on President Joseph Lattua and his corrupt governors.

The secret meetings had been taking place for some time with support for their opposition party growing daily. Soon they would be strong enough to emerge from hiding and be able to force the government to hold democratic elections.

Their current meeting had gone on well into the night and now Chand Zibu slept peacefully beside his wife in the family’s country compound. Many of his co-conspirators had chosen to take up Zibu’s offer of a bed for the night rather than risk damaging their vehicles by driving them over the pot-holed excuse for a highway that passed by the farm.

***

Even while the meeting was taking place shadowy figures had surrounded the farm and settled down to wait.

An hour before dawn, the message to proceed was received and the shadows detached themselves from their hiding places and crept toward the compound.

Suspecting nothing, the farm’s occupants were rudely awakened by the front doors being smashed down and camouflage painted soldiers swarming inside. The few weapons that Zibu possessed were for protection against wild animals and no match for the automatic rifles of the invaders, even if he could have reached them in time.

Quickly and efficiently the occupants of the compound were rounded up in their semi-dressed state, and herded into the forecourt in front of the main house. Here, the women and children were separated from the rest and taken back inside the house where they were placed under armed guard.

Outside, the men were divided into two groups, one consisted of the farm’s workers and the second made up of Zibu and his co-conspirators.

Chand Zibu and his friends found themselves being handcuffed and forced against the compound’s outer wall. The handcuffs were then tied above the unfortunate men’s heads to the top of the wall which forced them to stand stretched upright, facing their attackers.

Finally, one of the soldiers came forward and pronounced solemnly, ‘You are all under arrest for treason.’

‘You can’t do this!’ exclaimed Chand Zibu. ‘I demand to speak to your superior!’

The soldier grinned broadly and moved closer to Zibu, ‘As you can see Mr Zibu, I am my superior.’

Beneath the camouflage paint Chand Zibu now recognised General Thomas Lattua, the President’s brother.

‘You can’t do this,’ insisted Zibu.

‘Of course I can. In your absence you have all been tried with the grievous act of treason.’ He turned so that he was now addressing all the men present. ‘Of course you realise that there is only one penalty for the crime of treason.’ He moved away from the group while calling orders to his men.

As he was doing so, a vehicle pulled into the compound and President Lattua himself climbed out. ‘Come to watch the fun?’ Thomas Lattua called to his brother.

‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ smiled the President, as his brother formed his men into a line facing the prisoners.

The conspirators called out to the soldiers and the President, protesting their innocence and begging for mercy, but their desperate voices fell on deaf ears.

Realising his fate was sealed, Chand Zibu steeled himself for what was to come. He stood quietly and hoped the executioners did not detect the quiver of fear that gripped him.

An order was called out and the soldiers raised their weapons. As he looked down the barrel of the weapons Chand Zibu imagined that he could hear the beautiful voice of Mawu the moon-goddess singing the song of lament to her lost lover. The song inside his head reached its crescendo just as General Lattua shouted the order, ‘Fire!’

Automatic rifles barked their deadly message and the screams of the men around Chand Zibu suddenly ended in an eerie silence.

On both sides of Zibu, the bodies of his friends and co-conspiritors hung lifeless against the wall, held upright with their arms still tied above their heads and the awful truth came that he was still alive. He was alive and untouched by the bullets among his dead friends. Moments later he saw that the Lattua brothers were laughing at his confusion, enjoying some private joke.

President Lattua stepped forward and took Chand Zibu by the chin. The two men exchanged looks of utter loathing for the other.

Lattua spoke softly, without the slightest hint of humanity in his voice, ‘Did you think that we would kill you Mr Zibu? Well we should have of course but that would simply have created a martyr and we don’t want martyrs inspiring other traitors, do we? No Mr Zibu, you are of far more value to us alive. For the rest of your days you will be a shining example of what happens to those who seek to overturn the rightful government of Namola.’

There was a laugh of delight from the President’s brother as Joseph Lattua continued, ‘We will use you to show how far the mighty can fall. Everything you have is now confiscated by the State. Everything is forfeit, every last coin, every last cow, every last blade of grass. It’s now all ours to do with as we wish.’

‘And we shall start with your family,’ laughed General Lattua, gesturing to his men. ‘Leave your weapons outside,’ he called to them, as the eager soldiers made their way toward where the women and children had been imprisoned, ‘We don’t want to risk one of them getting their hands on a gun while you’re entertaining them.’ The men laughed at their leader’s joke as they unslung their utility belts and propped their weapons against the wall of the house.

***

As the sun rose to its zenith, the horror of what was happening around him became imprinted indelibly upon Chand Zibu’s brain. The screams and groans of agony from the women inside the house left no doubt as to their fate, and tears of anguish and frustration coursed down Zibu’s cheeks as he struggled fruitlessly to free himself and go to the aid of his family, while around him the bodies of his co-conspirators were now covered with flies that had been attracted by the smell of blood from the corpse’s open wounds.

Now, not even the sound of Mawu’s lament could be heard over the wailing and occasional scream of blood-chilling finality.

Gradually the noise from within the house abated, as the soldiers drifted outside once again, adjusting their clothing as they emerged before collecting their weapons.

‘Finished sergeant?’ General Lattua called to one of his men.

‘All done. None left,’ nodded the man.

‘Excellent work brother,’ smiled President Lattua. ‘What about the farm?’

‘It could become a symbol of resistance as well. Best if it ceased to exist. My men will be able to use the livestock and any equipment but the rest should go.’

‘See to it. I have my yacht waiting for me in Lobacra, and there are some French whores in Monaco who need to be taught how to enjoy themselves.’

‘I’ll see you when you return then.’

***

By late afternoon Chand Zibu was alone. The bodies of his friends had been unshackled and thrown inside the house, which was now well ablaze.

Everything of value had been loaded into trucks and the farm’s livestock had been herded away by some of Zibu’s field workers at the point of the soldier’s guns.

The heat from the burning house dried the tears in his eyes before they could form, and the acrid smell of burning flesh seared the back of his throat

In the silence of the deserted countryside the sound of Mawu’s lament returned, and joined in with his sobs of woe.