“That is so,” said Kinguri. “You had no refusal. And you are one with him now.”
“We are all one with him,” said I, finding this conversation most awkward and discomforting, like the conversation a man might have with his wife after he has left her for a new lover. “Come, Kinguri, reproach me not! I had no refusal.”
“So I am given to understand.”
“Have you had the same rite with him?”
“It could not be. I am his mother-brother.”
“But you have had the rite?”
“I have,” said he.
“And with whom?”
“With Ngonga, once. And with a man who is dead.”
“But yet they did not become your brothers?”
“Nay,” said he, “I have only Calandola for my brother, and you.”
“Then the brother-rite is a closer one than this other, so why do you reproach me? I am dearer with you than I be with him, even afterward.”
“Ah, so you are,” said he. “But what you had with Calandola, no one else has had with him ever.”
And therefore was he sulky and wounded, and felt betrayed and cast off. It is like all lovers, and in a way that was not of the flesh we were surely that: he had shared me with another that was more powerful, and felt now that something had been spilled that could not be put back in the bowl. All the same he could not have been greatly surprised that it had happened, knowing that Calandola did hold him to be a rival, and thus that he coveted all that Kinguri did have; and from the first I had to Calandola been something most precious, a giver of light and brightness in the dark of the jungle, as I had seen from his handling of my fair hair. So there was no repairing it: I was the plaything of these two powerful brothers, and I had to take care for myself, that they did not tear me asunder in their struggle for me.
So thereafter Kinguri was polite with me, and I with him, but we were cool, and did pretend that nothing had changed while both aware that a great change had come. And no longer did he invite me to go hunting with him, or come to my cottage to draw me into deep discourse, which I lamented. But we sat side by side at the feasts, and smiled, and gave outward show of warm brotherhood, even so.
With the other Jaqqas was I altered also, in another way. Owing to my golden hair and white skin they all had taken me to be some kind of ndundu-creature, an albino of a new sort, with warlock powers. That had been greatly heightened by my becoming blood-brother to Kinguri, and now was elevated even more by my having shared this deep rite with the Imbe-Jaqqa. So I walked among them now like a man eleven feet tall, whose feet did not touch the ordinary ground. They made a hand-gesture to me of obeisance, and cast down their eyes, these swaggering devilish cannibal lords and princes. And at their feasts I had the finest morsels and all the wine I chose to drink, and I am certain I could have taken any woman, too, though I was content with Kulachinga.
In a day or two after my initiation with Calandola, we resumed our march toward the city of Kafuche Kambara. Shortly we drew up our position on high ground to the northeast of it. I saw it far below, dry and dusty, the color of a lion in the hot sunlight, and crouching like a lion at the base of low dark hills. The city was a great one, but it seemed a swarm of ants and nothing more, from here.
I cleaned my musket thoroughly and made ready my remaining shot and powder. And on a day of great heat and some little rain the Imbe-Jaqqa did mount his lofty scaffold, and utter a long and most ferocious oration, and we did sound our battle-drums and mpungas and other musics of war, and with a great rush we swept down on Kafuche Kambara.
It was Calandola’s stratagem to terrify Kafuche, and break his spirit on that first day by a sudden onslaught. But it did not happen that way. This lord did stoutly withstand the Jaqqas, and we had that day a mighty battle, but neither side had the victory. In this warfare I was placed upon a wooden engine that the Jaqqas had constructed, so that I could shoot my musket downward upon the enemy, and perhaps slay the opposing general. Three bold Jaqqas stood before me with great shields of elephanto-hide, to form a phalanx in my protection, and again and again they parted at a signal, and I did thrust my weapon through the opening, and discharge it with a terrible roar.
But Kafuche Kambara did not fall. At sunset we withdrew with many of our men dead on the field, and made ourselves a palisado of trees in the Jaqqa fashion behind which we might encamp. And the next day it was the same, and the next, a battle without outcome.
We remained close on four months in the wars with them, to great cost. Some days we had the better hand, some days they did; but it mightily perplexed Calandola that he could not shatter the forces of Kafuche Kambara no matter what tactic he employed. Never had a blackamoor lord withstood him before in this way. We held a long council to discuss it, at which I was present along with Kinguri and Kulambo and Kasanje and the other great Jaqqa princes, and I could see the wrath of Imbe Calandola smouldering within him. And he did look toward me from time to time, as though I might offer some plan to break the stalemate. But the only plan I had was one I thought he would deeply mislike, so I did not voice it.
And at length it was Kinguri, after we had talked for hours, that put forth the same idea that had come to me. “Since it seems we cannot defeat them, let us make alliance with them against the Portugals.”
At this, Imbe Calandola’s eyes blazed with fury, and he snarled like a jungle beast and clenched his fists tight. Peradventure only Kinguri could have made that proposal without giving mortal offense. For alliance with an enemy was not Calandola’s way; and he was not eager to admit he had failed against Kafuche Kambara.
Yet around the council-house the other princes did nod and give assent to Kinguri, first old Zimbo, and then others, in a cautious manner, for they knew how perilous it was to support that which the Imbe-Jaqqa opposed.
Calandola turned then to me, and said, “What say you, Andubatil, shall we parley with Kafuche Kambara?”
His eyes did gleam most craftily. Clearly it was a test, to see whether my love lay more with him or with his brother. So I chose my words with some care, and said, “What is our greater goal, O Imbe-Jaqqa? To destroy Kafuche Kambara, or to wipe from our soil the Portugals of the coast?”
“That question does not answer to my question.”
“Aye, but it does! If Kafuche is the higher foe, why, then we must stay here until we break him. But if our greater thrust is destined to be against the Portugals, Lord Calandola, then it behooves us not to slaughter many more of Kafuche’s warriors. For we will need them in the attack on São Paulo de Loanda.”
I saw a keen smile quickly cross Kinguri’s face, and knew that I had spoken myself rightly.
Calandola, too, showed pleasure. “Yea, that is so. Each day do we kill great number of his men.”
“And also do they kill great number of ours,” said Kasanje, but not so loud that the Imbe-Jaqqa might hear.
Kulambo, that was a wise and bold commander, now said, “The Andubatil Jaqqa speaks sooth. Let us spare Kafuche Kambara’s army, and put it to our own uses. And when the Portugals are destroyed, why, then we may turn again against Kafuche, and deal with him as he deserves.”
Calandola did ponder this a long while in silence, and I saw his face change from moment to moment as he weighed this argument and that. And then he did brighten, as though he had weighed it all, and saw the truth.
“So be it, as Kulambo proposes,” he said at last.
And so it was that on the next day a negotiation commenced, under a flag of truce, between the Jaqqas and their foes. I say “a flag of truce,” that being the way we do understand such things, but in fact the way it was done was quite other: for a pig was slaughtered, and turned so that its entrails were on the outside, and this was carried into the open ground by six of the Jaqqa women, with two dozen Jaqqa warriors behind them as a guard. By this display was signified a willingness to parley, which Kafuche Kambara did comprehend, and he did send forth by way of agreement a slaughtered calf, similarly opened, so that there was blood and entrails all about. These meats were cooked and shared by the ambassadors of both sides, and after that it would have been unholy to make war, so that truce was struck.