Chapter 8 — The Eagle Claw's Strike

Dande and Chenzira wandered through the village, trying to get whatever provisions they would need for their journey. They walked their horses down the winding path into its heart. The little huts were closely nestled together here. Many were abandoned. They didn't spot any granaries. The whole country was feeling the effects of the drought and the famine. At the heart of the village was an open-air market, nothing more than a few stalls falling apart on either side of the path. The neighboring farmers would come at least twice a week, where they would line the main street with their wares and exchange them for other goods or for cowrie shells. That was before the drought. Now that hard times had hit them all, the market was no longer active. The only places that still did booming business were the tavern and the blacksmith's shop, where palm wine and horseshoes were sold to whoever was passing by.

Dande and Chenzira got new shoes for their horses, as well as replacements. They did not know how long it would be before they came to another town. They might be a long time trailing the Thief, and there was no way of knowing when they would get supplies again. Dande and Chenzira realized that their food supply would have to come from hunting and foraging. There wasn't much to be found in the town.

The blacksmith's hut was an open shed with a kiln, a bench, and some stone anvils. The blacksmith, a small wiry man covered in soot, slung away with his hammer at their horseshoes. He had to make them on the spot because he didn’t have any in stock. They watched him work away in silence, then paid him two cowries for the eight horseshoes.

As they were leaving the blacksmith's hut, Dande remembered that they would also need some lengths of rope. They had seen some at the smith's shed. He turned his horse back to the blacksmith's, leaving Chenzira to ride back to the tavern. When he got to the shed and dismounted, he was surprised to find Zugudini there. Her horse was hitched to a tree nearby, switching its tail from side to side, shooing away the flies that buzzed around its hindquarters. She walked out of the blacksmith's hut with some lengths of rope piled in her arms. Not seeing where she was going, she bumped into Dande and dropped the ropes.

“Sorry,” she muttered, as she picked them up. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Let me help you with that.”

“I’ve got them all already,” she said, as she struggled to pile the ropes back into her arms. “What are you here for anyway,” she asked, as she finally managed to get them all together.

"Rope," Dande said.

"I bought the last lengths that he had."

"Is there anywhere else I could get some in this town?"

"No. Not unless you make some of your own."

With that, she piled the ropes on the rear of her saddle and got onto her horse. Dande did the same. They rode side by side. The tension between them was palpable. Ten harvests earlier they had been the best of friends. Now, they were strangers. Dande remembered the mock marriage ceremony that he had carried out, the amulet that he had draped around her neck, and the vow that he had taken that they were bound together for life. He wondered whether she could remember any of that. Judging from her effort not to speak, he suspected that she did.

"How have you been?" he asked finally.

She stared at him through slitted eyelids. Was that the best he could do after ten harvests? She looked ahead and rode on in silence.

"I thought you were dead," Dande continued. She didn't reply. Dande cleared his throat. This was not going to be easy. “Why didn’t you come looking for me?” he asked.

“Why didn’t you look for me?”

“They said you were dead. They lied to me.”

“No, they didn’t,” she said. “I did die. The girl who you knew is no more.”

She kicked her horse into a trot and rode on ahead of him to the tavern.

The strains of the bard's mbira playing reached them before they got to the tavern. Some patrons were singing along. Dande caught up with Zugudini as she dismounted and hitched her horse to a pole near the tavern door.

“So, who am I talking to?” he asked.

“What?” she asked, turning into the door.

“You said the girl I once knew is dead. So, who am I talking to?”

Zugudini stopped. Then she turned and looked Dande in the eye. It was the first time she had done so since they’d met again, and his breath caught in his chest as he took in those burning eyes.

"This is just a job for me. Let's keep it that way, okay?"

She turned around to find Karama standing next to them. They were blocking his path. Zugudini pushed past him and walked in. His eyes narrowed as he looked from Zugudini to Dande and back to Zugudini. Dande nodded at him, turned around, and walked back out of the tavern.

“Nayembe,” Zugudini called out as she sat down at an abandoned table. “Bring me a round, please.” The tavern keep nodded and ladled out some brew into a calabash.

Karama sat down beside Zugudini.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"What?"

"What you and he were speaking about. About keeping things that way. What do you want to keep that way?”

"I don't have time for your jealousy, Karama. You don't own me."

Nayembe brought her calabash of brew. She downed it in three gulps, wiped her lips, then stood up.

“I’ll settle it when I get back,” she said.

Nayembe nodded. Zugudini turned to leave but Karama grabbed her elbow and spun her around. She yanked her arm out of his hand and glared at him, eyes burning.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping back. "I just want to…”

“Want to what?”

“Will you be okay? With this man. Are you okay with just you and Luba working on this?”

“Don’t be silly.”

She pushed past.

"You know that man?"

She paused and eyed him. "No, I don't," she lied.

She'd never been good at lying. Anyone who knew her well, like Karama or Luba, could tell when she was lying. Karama did so now. But he knew not to call her out on it. He was already treading on dangerous ground. Zugudini had a quick temper, as he had learned the hard way too many times.

"Remember our rule," he said. "No personal jobs."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I just want you to remember our rule. We don't do any personal jobs. It never turns out well. That's all."

“Remember, I didn't want to do this job in the first place. It was you and the rest of them that talked me into it."

She turned around and walked out of the tavern.

***

Luba, Chenzira, Jilo and Dande were waiting for her outside, underneath the shade of the tree where the old-timers and the bard had been sitting earlier that day. Karama followed her outside after a moment and sat down on a stool next to Jilo, looking sulky. Jilo was already too tipsy to notice.

"Are we ready?" Chenzira asked, standing up. They all nodded, and he led the way to the back door of the tavern, where their three horses were hitched.

“Did you get the rope, Zugi?” Luba asked.

“Can’t you see it?” Zugudini snapped.

Luba frowned and was about to answer. Then she saw the look on Karama’s face and thought better of it. Chenzira and Dande were already on their horses. Zugudini and Luba mounted. They rode off in silence. Luba waved at the two men seated beneath the tree as they rode past.

“Wish us luck,” she said, and held out her index finger.

Jilo saw it and nodded. Several harvests of riding together in the wilderness and finding themselves in close calls had resulted in their developing a system of coded messages. The gang could hold an entire conversation and concoct a simple plan using just their eyes, hands and a sequence of nods.

“The ancestors go with you,” he said, cracking a stupid grin and waving.

Karama said nothing. His eyes bore into Zugudini, then rested on Dande. He frowned, spat on the ground, then walked back into the tavern.

Soon the four riders were on a track that led out of the village. It was different from the one that they had used when they arrived. Squares of abandoned farmland extended outward, and a gentle breeze brought some relief from the hot day. Luba hung back and let Chenzira and Dande lead the company. She drew her horse side by side with Zugudini's.

“I got the seeds,” she said in a low voice. Opening up her pouch, she took out the dried, whitened seeds of the chinjira tree.

"At every intersection, we'll leave one of these. I told Jilo to give us one day then follow. If anything happens, they'll catch up with us."

Zugudini nodded, and Luba sealed up the pouch. They came to a crossroads right outside the town and took the path that led westwards. Luba brought up the rear. She opened up her pouch, took out a white chinjira seed, and dropped it along the edge of the path.

***

The sun beat down hard on them as they rode along. The scorching heat felt like a warm blanket that hugged them tightly. The air was heavy and still, without the slightest hint of a breeze. The riders and the horses were soon dripping with sweat.

"It would be more comfortable through the trees," Zugudini said, breaking the silence as she gazed at the treeline in the distance.

"Yes, but we have to first get to the last place where we found the Thief's tracks. That's on the dry riverbed an hour's ride from here. We thought he’d ridden into the village.”

"Is this man on a horse?" Luba asked.

"Yes, but the horse is injured."

"That's good," Zugudini said. "We might still catch up with him. I didn't see anyone entering the town yesterday or the day before looking for a horse."

They pushed through the hottest part of the day, sipping as little of their water as they could. They didn't know when they would be able to refill their gourds.

The heat rose off the ground in waves, and the choking scent of the tall, waving grass clogged their nostrils. Luba sneezed a couple of times.

"Is it the grass?" Dande asked.

"What about the grass?"

"That's making you sneeze."

"The smell of the grass on a hot day always makes me sneeze. But if I chew some kiro leaves it makes it better."

"How did you find that out?"

"I grew up with a herbalist."

They rode on in silence for a while longer. Zugudini kept her eyes peeled on the track ahead of them, scouring the ground for any tracks.

"He didn't come this way," Chenzira said, glancing at her. "We will pick up his track on the riverbed."

“Just let me do my job, please,” she said.

She was irritated at this man trying to teach her about tracking. Years of tracking slave traders had taught her that people could be very sneaky. It would not be the first time that a person she was tracking had gone one way and then doubled back to throw them off the scent.

“Sorry,” Chenzira said.

“No, I’m sorry,” Zugudini said, realizing that she was being disrespectful. “It’s the heat.”

Chenzira was much older than she was, a man and a councilor. Luba shot a glance at her and smiled. She knew how much Zugudini hated being given instructions. When residing with Jilo and Karama, she was the de facto leader, not because of her age but because of her personality. She was the most decisive person that Luba had ever known. Not only did she have an extraordinary knack for planning, but she was also good at predicting the outcomes of those plans. That, coupled with her sheer strong will, had resulted in everyone else in the Eagle Claw group accepting her as their leader.

That is what they called themselves. The Eagle Claw. Luba was proud of herself because she came up with the name. They had wanted something that would remind them of the Fish Eagle, the great totem animal of the empire, whose values the empire ironically ignored: strength, freedom and protection over all the people. It was the perfect animal to symbolize their mission of freeing slaves.

Luba herself had been a slave for a long time. Torn from her family at a tender age and sold to a Sao chieftain who wanted to keep her as his good-luck charm (people were so superstitious), Luba had grown to loathe the stupid beliefs that made people act so foolishly. It seemed to her that half the world believed that pygmies brought good luck, and the other half thought they were harbingers of doom. She was lucky that the chieftain belonged to the first half, otherwise she would likely have been ritually murdered at a young age. But she quickly grew tired of being his plaything, called upon to entertain his guests by performing acrobatic tricks that she had grown up doing as a child. She longed for the freedom of the forests where she was born and bred. As a child, she would spend the entire day running through the forest paths, climbing trees, and swinging from vines. It was the best training that anyone could ever ask for when it came to becoming comfortable with the forest and its creatures. She was not built to live cooped up in a town, being someone's clown.

Even though she fared better than most slaves, who were beaten and treated like cow dung, she decided to break free and make her way back home. But she was caught again by another set of slave traders, and this time they took her south, where she was bought by a traditional healer, who also thought that she would bring her good luck. The healer quickly noted Luba's prowess at herbology and took it upon herself to hone her skills. After six harvests, the healer died, and Luba was free. She had met up with Zugudini quite by accident. She had been spending the night in a forest on her way to the city of Zvongombe when she came across a patrol of guards hunting through the woods for escaped slaves. She evaded them successfully and, in the process, found the escaped slaves and their leader, a fearless young woman named Zugudini, hopelessly lost in the forest. They would have ended up getting caught by the guards who were hunting them, but Luba took pity on them and helped them find their way to safety. Zugudini had been impressed by Luba's instinct in the forest and her spirit. She asked Luba what her plan was and was happy to learn that Luba had none. That was when she painted the picture that she had in mind for Luba. An empire where there were no slaves, and everyone was free. Luba thought the young woman was crazy, but she liked her and liked her vision. It appealed to her because, having been a slave herself, she knew what it was like to be treated like a thing. Since that time, she has worked as a team with Zugudini. Jilo and Karama they had picked up along the way. Karama was on the run from the Ngola kingdom in the south, where he had been wrongfully accused of murder. The only reason he had taken up with the Eagle Claw was because of his feelings for Zugudini. It was surprising how men could make such life-changing decisions based on what a woman looked like. They were stupid. This was something Luba had accepted and used to her advantage whenever she could.

She glanced at Dande, riding ahead of them in silence. Zugudini said she knew him from her childhood. In Zvongombe. Those were painful memories for her. Luba was curious to know what relationship the two had had as children. Were they related? Or had they simply been friends? Luba would have to be patient. Zugudini would tell her when she was good and ready. She always did.

***

The land started descending gently, and soon they came to a steep embankment overlooking the dry riverbed.

"This was where we saw him last," Chenzira said.

They descended onto the dry riverbed, where they all dismounted. Luba and Zugudini were quick to spot the tracks that the man with the injured horse had made. The man had carefully kept to the pebbles by the riverbed, taking extra care not to leave a single hoof print in the sand beside the pebbles. To the untrained eye, it would have seemed as if he had walked out onto the riverbed and then vanished into thin air. Luba crouched over the pebbles, examining them carefully. Zugudini did the same. Their keen eyes picked out the pebbles that had been recently displaced by making out the little depressions in the sand where they had been. It was slow going down the riverbed, but they managed to follow the tracks for about two hours. The sun was already setting by the time the tracks veered off the riverbed, up a steep gully, and back into the forest, where it was easy to follow them again. Zugudini suggested that they rest for the evening. It would be difficult to track the man in the dark, and they might just end up getting lost and wasting valuable time. Chenzira agreed with the plan, although it displeased Dande.

“We’ve already lost a lot of time getting to the village and recruiting the trackers,” Dande said. “We should push through the night.”

“I thought that I was the one in a hurry to catch him.”

“If we push through the night, we will likely lose his tracks. He’s no longer keeping to any paths,” Luba said.

“Where do you think he’s headed?” Chenzira asked.

“He’s bearing towards the Mountains of Mwari. Which makes him harder to track. We need all the light we can get.”

“I agree,” Zugudini said. “We stop for the night.” The tone with which she spoke had an air of finality to it.

“Okay, then,” Dande said. “Where are we going to spend the night?”

It would be impossible to sleep beside the river. There were too many mosquitoes buzzing around, attracted by the odd puddles of water that dotted the wash. They decided to push a little further away, and look for a cluster of zafiri bushes, which would repel the mosquitoes and allow them and their horses a good night's sleep. Luba assured them that they would not be hard to find. Her keen sense of smell could pick them out from a distance. They led their horses along the forest path on foot, not trusting themselves to see any roots or boulders that would have injured their horses and left them with one less mount. Lances of sunlight splashed the forest's floor, breaking through the yellow and green canopy of acacia trees.

They walked in single file and in silence, their horses and their feet crunching through the dry twigs that carpeted the path. Luba suddenly stopped. She leaned forward in her saddle. The others stopped also, watching her expectantly.

“You smell the zafiri?” Dande asked.

“Silence,” she whispered harshly. “Someone’s coming. Listen.”

At first, they heard nothing. Then, sure enough, far ahead of them, came the sound of feet, treading through the bush. And every so often, the short sharp clanging of chains.

"Slavers," Zugudini said.

"It's best not to stay on the path," Luba said. "Let's get off the path and keep the horses quiet."

"Slavers won't give us any trouble," Chenzira said. "We're on state business."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Luba said, leaping off her horse and leading it off the path.

They all followed her into the shadows cast by the trees off the path and waited. The sounds got louder and louder. Soon, a troop of soldiers appeared on the path. Behind them, a gangly string of slaves trudged along, their feet and necks in chains. They were mostly women. The few men dragged an empty wagon. A couple more soldiers brought up the rear.

Zugudini's breath caught in her chest. These were runaways. Freshly caught slaves were usually driven by slave traders, typically Arabs. Runaways were criminals, hunted and caught by the soldiers of the empire and brought to justice in ways that made Zugudini's hair stand on end. Seeing a slave caravan usually got her irritated. Seeing a runaway slave caravan filled her with horror, then with anger, at the thought of the torture in store for the runaways to teach them a lesson and set an example. Those who survived would never attempt to run away again.

Chenzira stepped through the bushes and hailed the guards. "Greetings in the name of Mutapa Chimedza."

The guards froze at the voice, their spears all turning to face the old, robed figure that stepped out of the shadows and onto the forest path.

"Who are you?" one of them barked.

"I am Chenzira, son of Chirowe, High Priest of the Empire and Councilor of the Mutapa's Court."

The soldiers lowered their spears as several of them recognized the man whom they had seen officiating at several ceremonies in the King's court at the capital.

"We did not expect to see you here, father," the one who had first spoken said respectfully. "You are far from the city, and it is dangerous. If you are going that way, you can come with us. We are returning these runaways to the city for punishment."

"No, that will not be necessary. I am not alone." He turned around and motioned for the others to step forth.

Luba glanced at Zugudini. Would it be wise for them to let themselves be seen? Zugudini shook her head and stepped further back into the shadows. Luba did the same. Dande didn't notice them and took a step forward onto the path. Only then did he notice that the others had hung back. He wondered why, but his attention was immediately arrested by the men in front of him.

"It's the Wild Dog," the one who had spoken said.

Dande recognized him. His name was Dikarai. He was one of the captains of the Barwe Tonga. Slender but standing tall, he wore sturdy ankle high boots and numerous leather bangles and talismans on both hands. He was not particularly skillful, nor was he known for his courage, hence his many talismans. But what he lacked in skill and bravery, he made up for in diplomacy bordering on sycophancy. As such, he had risen up the ranks alongside others of his age group who were far more distinguished and valuable soldiers. When his superiors realized that he couldn't offer more than lip service, he was relegated to heading up slave-hunting missions, which did not require much by way of skill and courage. Aware that he had become the laughingstock of his peers, he vented his anger on whoever he deemed inferior to him, whether they were his subordinates, slaves, or Dande.

"What are you doing with the Wild Dog?" Dikarai asked Chenzira in a mocking voice, as he looked Dande up and down. "Don't you know it's dangerous to take a dog off its leash?"

"Wild Dogs don't have leashes," Dande said. "But you haven't spent enough time outside the barracks to know that, have you?"

The question just hung there, unanswered. Dikarai knew that he had been slighted and humiliated in front of both his subordinates and the slaves. He also knew that there was nothing that he could do. He pretended to ignore Dande's question, to ignore his very presence, and turned to Chenzira.

"What is a councilor of the King doing out here with Hondo’s Wild Dog?"

“Your mission must have kept you away from Zvongombe for a long time now,” Chenzira said. “Dande no longer works for Hondo.”

“What? The Wild Dog is free?”

"Dande and I are on a mission," Chenzira said, laying special emphasis on Dande's name as he spoke to drive home the point that he did indeed have a name. "Dande and I are on a mission from the Mutapa himself."

"Can we assist in any way?"

"Have you seen any man on an injured horse? He would be traveling alone, pushing it hard, and with a pouch on his horse around this size." Chenzira gestured with his hands.

Dikarai shook his head.

"We have seen no such man. All we've come across are the odd travelers here and there, but they've always been in groups."

"Thank you," Chenzira said. "I think we shall continue on our way then."

"Are you still traveling at this time of night?"

"No. We are just looking for a suitable place to camp, near some zafiri bushes, to keep the mosquitoes away."

"There are some up ahead," Dikarai said. "But the mosquitoes are the least of our worries. We need a place that's relatively flat and open. That way, if any one of these things," he nodded at the runaway slaves, “tries to escape, we can bring them down with our spears easily."

Zugudini's blood boiled when she heard these words. She took a step forward, but Luba laid a restraining hand on her arm. Zugudini had always let her temper get the best of her in these situations, and it was Luba's role to get her to calm down and bide their time. Luba pressed a finger to her lips. Zugudini took a deep breath and listened as Dikarai continued.

"There is a clearing up ahead from here that should serve our purpose. You are more than welcome to camp with us. If you don't mind the stench."

"The mosquitoes will disturb us more than the stench, I'm afraid," Chenzira said. "Thank you, but we will push on."

"Suit yourself. Mwari be with you."

"Mwari go with you."

Dikarai turned around to the other guards. "Let's go."

The caravan resumed its slow march along the forest path. After it had disappeared from sight and the clanging of the slave chains had died down in the distance, Zugudini and Luba stepped out onto the path.

"You have something against government soldiers?" Chenzira asked.

"No, but you can never be too careful out here nowadays. It wouldn't be the first time that we've been attacked by brigands who were disguised as soldiers. It was safer for us to hang back and cover you in case of anything."

Chenzira nodded. Dande didn't say anything. Both of them suspected that Luba had spun them a tale, but they needed the two women at the moment. There would be no gain in pursuing that line of questioning. It wouldn't help them with their mission. It would be wise to move on and keep unwaveringly to their objective.

"Let's go," Dande said. "Dikarai said that we are not too far."

They pushed on through the dark. Soon, they came to the clump of zafiri bushes, and they set up camp, rolling out their mats. The gibbous moon sent harp strings of silver light through the branches that creaked in the evening breeze. Luba had a tiny flint that she had won off an Arab playing morabaraba. She got a small fire going and roasted a few cassavas that she had in her pouch. It would take a few minutes for them to get ready, and the others made themselves comfortable and waited, stretching out on their mats and resting in silence.

Dande stared at the stars, trying to get his mind off the meeting with Dikarai. When he had still worked for Hondo, he'd gotten used to being treated with disdain. But now he didn't have to take it any longer, and it irked him that he hadn't stood up for himself. He would kill the next man that called him “Wild Dog.” He got up and walked to the edge of the camp, where he poked around the rocks and pebbles on the forest floor with his spear.

"Are you worried about snakes?" Zugudini asked, startling him. She emerged out of the darkness and stood a few paces away from him.

"No, centipedes. I know a man who lost a leg once because of a centipede." He bent down and picked up a rock, examining it in the moonlight. "I'm joking. I'm looking for a stone to sharpen my spear."

He ran the rock against the edge of his spear slowly, examining each stroke to see the effect that it would have on the blade.

"No good," he said. "Too soft."

"Why did you let those men call you that?" Zugudini asked.

"Call me what?"

"Wild Dog."

"That used to be my name. But it’s not anymore.”

"It's not very flattering. Don't you have a praise name they could call you?"

"No. It's always only been Wild Dog, as far as I can remember. And I don't let them call me that. They just do."

"If anyone insults me, I deal with them,” Zugudini said.

Dande picked up another rock and stroked his blade. Zugudini turned to leave.

"Why didn't you return all those harvests ago?" he asked.

She paused, then turned around. "I wanted to, but I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"If they caught me, they would've killed me."

"I would've protected you."

"You? A small boy?"

"I'm not a small boy anymore."

"And I don't need protection anymore."

"How did you survive all those harvests, all by yourself?"

"You don't want to know, trust me."

“Try me.”

"I stole."

"You became a thief?"

"I could've done worse. The food is ready."

She turned and walked off. The conversation was over. Dande followed her back to the campfire, where Luba was carefully dusting the ashes off the cassavas. She gave each of them a couple of pieces, and they all sat down in silence, peeled their steaming cassavas and munched at the pulp inside.

"I have to relieve myself," Zugudini said, standing up.

"I'll come with you," Luba said. They both got up and walked off together.

Years of working together had resulted in their developing a shorthand between themselves that not even Jilo and Karama were privy to. If Zugudini said she needed to relieve herself and glanced at Luba, it meant that she wanted them to have a word in private.

They stopped a few paces away from the camp, out of earshot.

"What are we going to do about those slaves?" Zugudini asked.

"We're on another job," Luba said.

"We can't just leave them. You know what will happen to them when they get to the capital. They'll be whipped to death."

"If they're lucky," Luba added with a shudder. "What do you want us to do, though? We're stuck with these two."

"Remember that soldier said that they're not camped too far away from here. We can wait until the others are asleep. Then, we can sneak off and find the slaves. Set them free and return."

"I like the way you make it sound so simple. What about the guards?"

"I counted six. We can handle six easily. We will have the element of surprise on our side. They'll be scared out of their wits because they won't know how many of us there are."

"I wish Jilo and Karama were here. They'd have evened out the odds."

"I know it's hard, but we can try and do the whole thing quietly. So that most of the slaves would have escaped by the time the soldiers even became aware of what was happening."

"If they get caught again, their punishment will be worse."

"They won't be. We can pick off the soldiers as they go hunting for them. None will survive."

Luba thought about it for a second. It was a risky plan. A lot of things could go wrong, but Zugudini was right. They had the element of surprise on their side, plus with their experience fighting at night in the forest, they knew it would be quick to at least incapacitate six soldiers. It wouldn't be entirely necessary to kill them. All they needed to do was prevent them from following the freed slaves. Luba nodded in agreement and extended her hand.

"The Eagle Claw strikes again," she said, shaking hands with Zugudini. "And just in case."

She opened the pouch that hung around her neck. It contained a handful of the black tail feathers of the African Fish Eagle. It was their calling card. They always left some black feathers behind at the scene of their deeds. It was to make sure that whenever they struck, the authorities would know exactly who was behind it.

They returned to the camp and stretched out on their mats. Soon, Dande's sonorous breathing and Chenzira's snores told them that it was time to go. Zugudini sat up slowly and glanced at Luba, who had heard her stir. Together, they stood up and took up the spears that lay beside them. They tiptoed to the horses tied up nearby and took their masks out of their saddlebags. To avoid detection, they would always carry out their work wearing masks. They paused at the edge of the camp to make sure that they were still undetected. Chenzira stirred on his mat, turned over, and soon resumed snoring again. Zugudini nodded at Luba, and the two snuck off into the night.

They traveled quickly along the forest path, being used to walking at night in the forest. The branches cast eerie shadows all about them, and hyenas and jackals yelped in the distance. They quickened their pace, moving as quietly as the wind that rustled through the bushes they went past. A patch of moonlight up ahead showed them the clearing they were seeking. On one edge of it, the wagon with the slaves was securely latched to a tree. Two soldiers slept beside it. The slaves huddled within it, their heads lolling on their shoulders as they dozed away in their uncomfortable seated positions. The other four soldiers were scattered about at different points of the clearing. One of them sat awake, keeping guard.

Zugudini motioned at him, then drew her finger across her neck. Luba understood. She lay her spear at Zugudini's feet and took out the dagger that was tucked around her belt. She moved like a cat through the shadows, not making a sound as she approached the sentry from behind. She paused just before she sprung, and then she leaped on his back, wrapping her legs around his chest and pressing a hand firmly to his mouth. The man toppled over backward under her weight. Her dagger slit his throat neatly and quickly. She kept her hand firmly pressed over his mouth as the man coughed and spluttered and struggled to breathe and to shake her off. After a few moments, he stopped moving entirely, and Luba loosened her grip. Nobody else stirred in the camp.

Luba wiped her bloody hands and dagger on the man's chest, then searched him. She found what she was looking for – a set of keys. It was usual for the sentry to have the keys in case anything happened. She ripped them off his belt and crept back to Zugudini.

She held the keys up to Zugudini. Zugudini nodded. Together, they made their way to the wagon, where the slaves were chained. There was a craftsman-like quality to the way in which they dispatched the two soldiers who were asleep behind the slaves. They did their work with ruthless efficiency. Their daggers flashed. The soldiers spluttered and struggled as rough hands pressed firmly against their noses and mouths. Then they stopped moving. Luba unlatched the chain securing the wagon doors and threw the doors open. Zugudini pressed a finger firmly to her lips as several of the slaves woke up with surprised gasps.

"Quiet," she whispered. "We are getting you out of here."

Some of the slaves shuddered in fear and drew back. "Do you want to go back to the city? Do you know what they'd do to you there? Is that what you want?" Most of them shook their heads.

"Then show me your hands." They stretched out their arms, and Zugudini set about unlatching their manacles.

***

Dande made his way as best as he could along the forest path. He had heard the two women sneaking off into the night, and what Zugudini had told him, that she was a thief, had come back to his mind. He had found it hard to believe that she was a criminal, but here she was, sneaking off into the night with her partner. He had waited awhile, then decided to get up and follow them. As he went, he wondered what there was for the taking in the forest. Maybe they knew of some hidden village that had some ivory or cowrie shells laid up that they could steal?

He came to a clearing. By the pale moonlight, he made out the slave wagon and could see two figures moving about inside quickly. His throat tightened. He took a step forward and stumbled over something. Glancing down, he saw the dead body of a soldier at his feet. The realization hit him like a spear through his chest. Zugudini and Luba had murdered the soldiers to set the slaves free. He didn't quite know what he was doing. He simply reacted. He took a step forward towards them, not looking where he was going. His foot went straight through a twig that lay across his path. The sharp crack resounded through the night air like a whiplash. He froze and looked up.

To his left, a soldier sat up groggily, then locked eyes on Dande. In an instant, he leaped to his feet, and then, with a voice that could wake the dead, he shouted,

“Thieves! Thieves!”