Chapter 4 — The Leopard's Gambit

For a moment, Dande couldn’t speak. His thoughts were racing faster than his mouth could. Hondo had stolen the drum. He had leaped into the Zambezi. He had survived and disappeared. And now, here he was, wearing a mask, and crouching before him. The way the men treated him. It meant that Hondo was the head of the Vana Valungundu. Which meant that…These men. Could they be Barwe Tonga?

Hondo saw his confusion and his lips thinned into a grin. Then he rose, and went over to Zugudini.

"My daughter. It's good to see you again after all of these harvests. You've grown into a beautiful young woman. You look so much like your mother." He took her cheek in his rough hand. She jerked her head away.

"And who is this?" he asked, kicking Luba maliciously. "It seems my wild dog has picked up some strays along the way."

"Hondo," Chenzira said. "If you let us go, all can be forgiven." Hondo laughed.

"And why would I want forgiveness from you?"

"Not from me but from the Emperor."

"What Emperor. The seat is vacant. Here, I am Emperor. And soon, my empire shall extend even beyond any borders that Chimedza dreamed of.”

He turned back to Dande, who still stared at him confused.

“You are wondering how I came to be in charge of the Vana Valungundu?” he asked. “I am not. Look around you." He nodded at the men milling about.

“These are the missing Barwe Tonga soldiers," Chenzira said.

“Indeed.”

“Why would they choose to become rebels?” Dande asked. Being Barwe Tonga was the highest honor that any soldier could ever wish for. It had been his dream ever since he was a little boy.

"The problem with you, Dande," Hondo said, "Is that you never got to know what it was like to be Barwe Tonga."

"I know it is the highest military honor in the land."

"Is it, really? Look at these men. All of them are free. All of them can now own whatever land they want, live wherever they wish, and come and go as they please. Could they do that when they were Barwe Tonga slaves?"

"Don't speak like that of the sacred order," Dande said. Hondo grinned.

"A dog would never understand not having a master. That is what these men are. They are now their own masters."

"I think they serve you," Chenzira said.

“You are mistaken, old friend. These men, each of them, is going to occupy a chieftainship when I usher in the new kingdom. They are all hand-picked. No two men from the same clan of the same tribe. You see, ambition can drive men to do amazing things. A man would rather own a horseshoe than ride a borrowed horse."

"So you plan to wage war against the Empire?" Dande asked. "You don't have enough men."

Hondo shook his head.

"I won't have to wage war. The land is already on its knees. The people are hungry. Their so-called Emperor has failed to make it rain. I don't blame him. It's not his destiny to rule this land."

"Oh, and is it yours?" Chenzira asked.

"Yes," Hondo said simply. “Mwari chose this destiny for me. He has given me all the pieces that I need to fulfill it. Except..." He paused and looked at Zugudini. "I don't suppose you brought the drum with you? No. That would be too simple."

Zugudini spat on the ground. Hondo grinned and turned to the masked man who stood a few paces away.

“Gamba, where is the ngomalungundu?”

Dande started at the name. Only then did he notice the man’s spear tip, darkened by the juice of potent herbs, and the little owl feather in his hair. It was his old friend.

“Gamba? How?”

Gamba ignored his question.

“They did not have it, Grey Leopard” he said. “We saw no sign of it.”

“Did you search them?”

“Thoroughly.”

“And the surroundings?”

Gamba hesitated.

“And their surroundings?”

“We caught them by surprise, Grey Leopard. They did not see us coming nor did we see them discard anything.”

Hondo turned to Dande. “You had the drum, last time I saw you. Where is it?”

Dande did not reply.

“Where is it?”

“I do not know.” Dande said. He averted his gaze. Hondo grinned.

“You learned many things from me, I see. But you never learned how to lie. You know where it is.”

“I do not.”

He turned back to Gamba.

"Where exactly did you find them?"

“Near the edge of the western tip of the forest. Close to Tsuro’s hill.”

“In a camp?”

“No. From what our scouts reported, they had a fight amongst themselves. Two of their number were dead.”

“No doubt the Wild Dog killed them over the drum,” Hondo said. He turned to Dande.

"Where is the drum?"

“I told you I don’t know.”

Hondo turned to Chenzira.

"Old friend. Where did you hide it?" Chenzira didn't answer either. Hondo looked at Zugudini.

"My daughter, will you tell your father where the drum is?"

"You're not my father." Hondo frowned and glanced at Luba. She winked at him and grinned, shook her head. Hondo turned to the soldier.

"I want to question them separately. Put them all in different tents."

Gamba nodded. He summoned three other men. They each grabbed a prisoner and frogmarched them to a tent. There, they bound them hand and foot, making it impossible for them to stand or sit. They left them there, lying on their sides.

Dande's ribs ached. He'd lain on his side for what felt like an eternity. The shadows cast by the trees outside his tent lengthened. It was getting late. Nobody had brought him any food or water. He wondered about the others. How were they faring? Had Hondo been to see them? What had they told him? Those two women knew where the drum was. Would they betray them and work with Hondo? What could he possibly promise them? As if in answer to his thoughts, the flaps of the tent parted, and Hondo walked in. He gazed at Dande. Dande met his eyes, unflinching. Defiant. Hondo stepped out of the tent, then returned a moment later with two stools in his hands and a gourd. He set them both on the ground, then cut through Dande's bonds with a knife. He sat down on one of the stools and pointed at the other one.

"Sit."

Dande stood up, pain shooting through his sore legs and back. He stretched and sat down. Hondo handed him the gourd.

"Drink."

Dande hesitated. Hondo shook the gourd before his face, tippling some of its contents onto the ground. Dande took the gourd and sniffed it. The sweet, musty aroma of palm wine rose up to his nostrils. Hondo nodded. Dande took a sip. The cool, sweet wine trickled down his dusty throat. He coughed, wiped the wine from his lips, and took another swig. The wine sent tentacles of warmth crawling through his body. He shut his eyes and enjoyed the feeling.

"It's funny that the ancestors wanted us to meet under these circumstances," Hondo began. "You were my most loyal servant."

"I was your dog."

"Yes. And the best one I ever had. Drink."

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Maybe."

"What did the others tell you?"

"Not much. They were uncooperative. I'm here to ask you to reconsider."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you and I want the same thing."

"Which is?"

"To bring an end to this drought and famine. You've seen what's happening outside of the capital. Whilst the royalty are within the walls of their city, safe and sound and enjoying their feasts, the people are starving to death. I want to end that. That's all."

"Why did you steal the drum?"

"Because nobody else had the courage. I did what it took. The rest would just sit back and pray for change to happen. I took matters into my own hands. I'm not ashamed. Nor am I mad. If I were, would all of these men have followed me?"

Dande didn't reply. They sat in silence for a moment.

"Why did you never tell me about the Vana Va Lungundu?"

"I never knew if I could trust you. I know you hate me. You've hated me from the day I took you in. I know that."

"You made me do that.”

“Yes. Because of what your father did to me. Because of how he betrayed me. But you and I will hate each other until the end. And that's fine. We don't have to like each other. We don't have to pretend. But what I'm asking you to do right now is to do what is right for the people."

"What's right for the people is to return the drum to its rightful place."

"And then what?"

Dande fell silent. Hondo pressed his point.

"Return the drum to Mwariwe. Let it sit there while some fool ascends the throne, makes his sacrifices, beats it, and nothing happens. Do you know what will happen after that? The people will stop believing in the drum. And once they stop believing in the drum, they will no longer feel safe. And once they stop feeling safe, once they stop feeling that the Mutapa will protect them, you know what they'll do? They'll protect themselves. They'll turn on each other. You're too young to have seen what civil war does to a land. But I've seen it. I’ve travelled further than you. I’ve seen more things. An empire is a delicate thing. A fragile peace that can break at any moment. And it’s already started breaking apart. What do you think all these slave rebellions are? They’re sherds of a crumbling pot. I only want to put them back together. That’s what I want. What about you? What do you want?"

Dande stared at Hondo in silence.

"Your father was the Captain of the Barwe Tonga," Hondo continued. "Even though he died a disgrace and was expelled, you want to become Barwe Tonga. To clear the shame from your family name. I can give that to you."

Dande's chest tightened. Hondo watched him closely.

"I have everything I need to forge a new dynasty," Hondo said. "I am the one that Mwari chose to lead these people and to beat the drum. I can bring rain again. I can bring life to these lands. It is my destiny. That is why these men have joined me. Do the same, and I swear to you by Mwari and by all my ancestors, I will make you the Captain of the Barwe Tonga. All I need from you is the drum."

Dande's heart thumped wildly in his chest. "Why would you make me the captain?" he asked.

"Because you're the best man I've got. I don't like you, Dande. I don't like you because I envy you. You're the most skilled warrior I have ever trained. And you fear nothing and no one. I wish I had those qualities. But I don't. That is why I hate you, Dande. I made you a greater man than I am. And because I hate you, the wisest thing for me to do is to keep you close by my side. That's the truth. If I killed you, I'd be losing the best weapon these hands have ever forged. You’re my work of art. My greatest creation.”

“Which you made by treating me like an animal?”

Hondo sighed.

“Youth is the age of mistakes. I made my fair share. I treated you and your father unjustly. I know that now. And I’m trying to undo what I did. This isn’t easy for me, but it’s the only way.I have thought a lot about this. I have consulted the ancestors. I don't want to do what I am doing. I would rather live out my days getting fat in the capital. But that would only make things worse. This way, at least, I can do right by the people, by your father, and by you.”

Dande stared at him long and hard. Hondo stared back, unblinking. They sat like that, for a long, tense moment. Hondo rose to his feet.

"You may leave," he said. "You're free to go."

Dande’s jaw dropped.

“What? Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“And my friends?"

"Them too. Live your life, Dande. I will find another way to do what my ancestors have asked me to do. They'll open a door for me."

He walked out of the tent. Dande's mind spun. Hondo didn't seem to be lying. He hadn't betrayed any double purpose in his words. Was he telling the truth? Was he truly remorseful? Could he be the one that the ancestors appointed to restore things? His mind drifted back to the starving, emaciated children whom he had seen in the city and in the villages. Their big, innocent eyes stared at him. Pleading. Begging. Dande stood up. He wouldn’t defy the ancestors. If Hondo was lying, it would be up to them, not he.

"Hondo!" he called, stepping out of the tent. Hondo was only a few feet away, trudging off. Hondo paused and turned around.

"I will show you the way to the drum," Dande said. "I know where it is."

Hondo stared at him hard.

"Let me take you there," Dande said. "Just promise me that you will let my friends go."

"I will keep my word," Hondo said, "Whether or not you show me where the drum is."

"Then let us set off," Dande said. "We will need horses."

"Thank you," Hondo said and trudged off.

Dande's horse wound its way along the forest path. Hondo followed close behind him. It was evening. Lances of sunlight splashed the forest's floor. The birds had fallen silent, and the crickets had taken their place. Hondo had not wanted anyone to know where he and Dande were going. He had taken no weapons with him, showing Dande that he completely trusted him. The trees cleared out into a narrow expanse of grass, leading up to the mounds of rock dotted with patches of bush. A cloud cast a shadow over it. An ominous sign, but Dande took no note of it. He got off his horse and hitched it to a short tree. Hondo did the same. Then Dande led the way, climbing up the rocky incline, scrambling along sheer rock faces and grabbing onto thorny bushes whenever he slipped. His hands were soon covered with scars. He wondered how Luba and Zugudini had managed to come up that way. Soon, he came to a narrow gully between two rock faces. Its floor was covered in sand. He could still make out the footprints on it. It led to a cleft in some rocks up ahead. He made his way into the cleft and squeezed through the narrow opening. Inside was a tiny cave. There, lying next to its rear wall, was the drum, covered in a leather hide. Dande picked it up carefully and made his way back down.

Hondo's eyes burned with eagerness when he saw Dande scrambling back down the rocks, clutching the ngomalungundu tightly to his side and keeping his balance with his free hand. Hondo restrained his urge to rush forward and grab it. He bit his lip, and waited. Dande came up to him, panting. Hondo nodded.

“I am proud of you, Dande son of Banga. Now, give me the drum.”

A cloud of doubt darkened Dande’s brow. Hondo caught it, and realized he’d been too eager. He checked his enthusiasm, and took a step back. Dande swallowed hard, and with trembling hands, held out the drum. Hondo's face brightened. He took the drum, and let his eyes run over it, lustily.

"You have done the right thing, my son," he said, his voice cracking. He patted Dande's back. "Welcome to the Barwe Tonga." Dande's chest tightened. He choked back his emotions and mounted the horse.

They rode back in silence, getting back to the camp under the light of the crescent moon. As they rode into the camp, Gamba came running up.

"A new batch of soldiers arrived, Grey Leopard," he said.

"How many?"

"Fifty."

"Good. The timing is perfect. We will swear them in tonight."

Dande looked on as Hondo disembarked from his horse and, clutching tightly to the drum, walked past the soldiers playing morabaraba and exchanging tall tales. He got to the little clearing in the middle of the camp. Gamba blew three short blasts on a kudu horn. The soldiers leaped to their feet, grabbed their shields and spears, and gathered in neat rows in front of Hondo. With their masks off, Dande recognized a lot of the faces now. He picked out the new arrivals, looking confused in the very last rows.

Hondo cleared his throat. "Men," he began. "Today, the ancestors have blessed us. We have received new brothers into our brotherhood, and we will initiate them tonight." The men raised their spears and smashed them into their shields three times. "But more importantly," Hondo said, "The promise that I made to you has been fulfilled. Many moons ago, I swore on my life that I would get the drum that would fulfill the destiny we are willing to die for. And tonight, I have fulfilled that promise."

He pulled off the leather hide that covered the drum and raised it above his head. A hushed awe fell over the men. Beginning with the rows closest to him, the men fell on their hands and knees and bowed low, touching their foreheads to the ground. Dande was unsure what to do. He remained where he was, apart from the others, and watched.

"Rise, Vana Va Lungundu. Tonight, we begin the final stretch of our road to glory." The men rose and clashed their spears against their shields repeatedly. Some yelled and cheered shrilly. Hondo lowered the drum and waved a hand for silence.

"You have all been patient. You have held on to hope even when there was none to hold onto. When I beat this drum, I will remember. When the rain falls again, I will remember. When the new empire is born, I will remember. In three days time, the sun will be at it's highest. That is the appointed time for the sacrifice that will bind the drum to me, your father, and to all of you through me. It has been a hard road that we have walked. Breaking away from the old empire, leaving all that we loved and lived for behind us. But now, I ask for one last effort, one last sacrifice. We will march to the forests of the north, and there, we will search for the Lost Temple of Shabaka."

A murmur of voices went up amongst the soldiers.

"I know what you have heard," Hondo continued. "That the temple is cursed. That all who go there will perish. But I myself will lead you. I myself will put my life on the line for you. I myself will slit the throat of the person I love most in this world, my only daughter, to consummate the sacrifice on Shabaka's altar. You have left your loved ones behind, and I will not be left behind in that. I will make the greatest sacrifice. Would that I could give my life for this cause, but because that is impossible, I will do the next best thing. I will sacrifice my very heart. The only person I have ever loved. My daughter, Zugudini. Vana Va Lungundu, arise!" He lifted up the drum. The roar that went up from the soldiers was deafening. The ground shook as the soldiers cheered, stamped their feet, and clashed their spears against their shields. But Dande did not hear any of it. His head was reeling. Had he heard right? There was no mistaking it. Hondo had stated that he intended to kill Zugudini. His eyes met Hondo's across the rows of rowdy soldiers separating them. Hondo's determined, grim gaze answered Dande's question. Dande's heart fell. How could he have been so stupid? He thought back to the conversation that he and Hondo had had earlier that da: how Hondo had sworn that he only wanted to make up for his misdeeds; his conviction that he was on a God-given mission; his determination to find another way to fulfill his destiny. Dande's nostrils flared. Hondo had used him. He had betrayed him. Dande had been so foolish. He had led Zugudini straight to her death. If anyone deserved to die, it was he, for his foolishness, not she.

His eyes scanned the tents scattered across the camp. Most held the enemy, but one of them held Zugudini. Chenzira and Luba were also in danger, but Zugudini was the priority. Only she was destined to die. He had to find her and save her and be quick about it. But there were so many tents. She could be in any of them. He couldn’t possibly check them all. His mind raced. The soldiers had marched them all off in different directions. He spotted the tent he'd been imprisoned in and retraced his steps to the last place where he had seen his companions. He would have to move fast if he was going to find them and set them free. He glanced at Hondo and the crowd of soldiers. They were surrounding him and hoisting him and the drum onto their shoulders. That was the distraction that he needed. Dande raced back to the spot where he had last seen his friends and darted off in the opposite direction from that in which he had been taken. He came across numerous tents and poked his head into each one of them quickly. They were all deserted. Just as he was about to give up and think of another plan, he heard a voice call out after him from the tent that he had just checked. He rushed back and found Luba huddled in a corner beneath some skins.

“Where is Zugudini?” he asked.

“I don’t know. How did you get free?”

“There’s no time to explain. You need to help me find them.”

"You'll need to cut these first,” she said, turning onto her side and showing him the cords binding her hands and legs. “Use the dagger in my breast.” She nodded at the cloth wound around her chest. Dande reached into it and pulled out a dagger. It was small, but sharp. In a few seconds, the cords binding Luba fell to the ground and Luba sat up, rubbing her wrists and ankles.

“Where is Zugudini?” Dande asked. “Hondo means to kill her. We need to get her out of here.”

Luba rushed to the tent door, and scanned the surroundings. “Where are all the soldiers?”

“Celebrating getting the drum.”

“What?” Luba’s mouth hung open. “How?”

“There’s no time to explain. We need to find Zugudini.”

Luba eyed him for a moment, but quickly recovered herself. “They led us in opposite directions,” she said. “But they must be close by. This camp isn’t that big. Come on.” She exited then made for some tents nearby.

“I’ve already checked those,” Dande said. “Let’s go that way.” He pointed to a cluster of tents in the opposite direction. They sped towards them. In the distance, the sounds of revelry were getting louder. He checked the tents but found them deserted. Luba went ahead of him.

"Dande, over here!" she called out. Dande spun around to see her entering a small tent some paces away. He sprinted in. Chenzira looked up at them sleepily.

“What’s happening?”

"We're leaving,” Dande said. Luba cut through the bonds on his hands and legs with her dagger, and Dande hauled him onto this feet. Dande was grateful that Chenzira followed them outside without asking any questions. They split up, and searched for Zugudini. It was Dande who found her. She was bound to a post that ran through the middle of the tent, her head slumped over her chest, defeated. Dande ran up to her and shook her awake.

"We have to get out of here," he said. She woke up with a jolt and shot to her feet, tugging at her bonds. “I’ll untie—”

Her forehead rammed into his jaw. Dande went straight down. He rubbed his mouth, and stared at the drops of blood on his fingers. Luba raced in, and took one look at Dande on the floor, clutching his jaw, and Luba glaring at him.

“Leave that for later, Zugi. We need to go right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere with him,” she said. She spat on Dande’s face. Dande struggled to his feet, his chest heaving with anger.

"What is wrong with you?"

“Traitor,” she hissed.

“You’re the one that betrayed me, remember?”

“You gave Hondo the drum. You led him to it.”

“We can talk about this later,” Luba said, as she cut through the cords binding Zugudini. As soon as she was free, she punched Dande in the gut. He doubled over in pain. She quickly followed with another one to his face, sending him down to the ground again.

“Zugi, please!” Luba said.

“Oh, I’m just getting started.” She rubbed her knuckles and loomed over Dande. “Get up.”

Dande coughed and sat up. “I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to free you. Ask Luba.”

“Hush,” Luba said. Zugudini didn’t hear her.

“Why? So you yourself can stab us in the back instead of watching Hondo do it?”

“Can you two shut up?” Luba said. “Listen.”

They pricked their ears. The sounds of celebration had all died down and a tense silence had taken their place.

“The party’s over,” Luba said.

Just then, a horn blasted in the distance, and voices started yelling.

"The prisoners have escaped!" There was another horn blast. More shouts and yells pierced the night sky. The tramp of boots grew louder. Without warning, the flaps of the tent were pushed aside and a soldier raced in, spear in hand. He froze when he saw them. Then he yelled.

“They’re here! The prisoners are here!”