Imbe Calandola did extend his scepter of bone to me from his high throne to say, “You are accused, Andubatil, of treasonably betraying our intent to the Portugals of São Paulo de Loando. What say you to this charge?”
“This I wholly deny.”
“Make an oath upon this rod.”
I did touch his scepter, just at the tip. Which made me faintly shudder to think that next week someone might be swearing by some bone of mine. I said most loudly, “Be it known by this that I have done no treason ever against the Jaqqa nation, nor against Imbe Calandola its master, nor Kinguri his brother and mine.”
And so saying, I looked deep at Imbe Calandola and then at Kinguri, who looked back at me with eyes that were like fiery coals, all blazing and hateful.
Calandola gestured. The witch who held the bowl did say to me, “We have mixed within this bowl three fruits that bear a killing poison. Seek, and take, and eat, and if you have done no crime your mokisso will guard you from harm.”
And now my strange tranquility fell from me like a discarded cloak, and I felt great fear from crown to toes, I that had thought I had outlived the sensation of mortal dread; for I did remember that time I had seen this oath administered to Jaqqas, and how the man designated for death had made terrible noises, and had swollen in his throat and died choking, which is a horrible way to die. But I did present myself boldly as I advanced to select the fruit. The nganga-man held the bowl high, to give me no clue by way of mark or puncture on the fruit, and I reached in, and again I grew calm and easy, saying to myself that I had been ready many times to pay God the death that is owing by me, and if this were the moment, so be it, since that if it were not now, it would merely be later. And took a fruit and put it to my mouth, and found it passing sweet and comforting to the taste, with no hint of venom in it, and ate it down and spat forth the kernel, and grinned most widely and said, “There, it is shown now that I had no complicity.”
“Draw another,” said the witch-man.
“I have drawn!”
“The trial calls for three,” said Kinguri.
“It was not so the other time, when three fruits were presented,” said, I, “and only one was poisoned, and the accused did take the jeopardy but once—”
“This is a trial of another sort,” said Kinguri, and when I looked in appeal to Imbe Calandola, he met my gaze without response, and waited like a stone statue for my next taking of fruit.
The nganga did proffer me the bowl. And I did choose again.
I was sure now that they would do me to death this day, that Kinguri would have me go on choosing until I hit one of the venomed ones; and to make a haste for the outcome I bit and spat kernel and swallowed, and stood, and wondered, and felt no murder in my veins.
“Again my innocence is proven, Imbe Calandola!”
“Draw one more,” said the witch most inexorably.
Ah, then, so the sleight of hand would be practiced on me now, and they had saved the poison for the last, to heighten the game for themselves! The bowl was on high. I reached to it and made my choice.
“Jesu guard me,” I said. “The Lord bring mercy upon me. The angels defend me.”
And took the third fruit into my mouth.
This time did I have the pure certainty that I had come to my final moment, and would soon be gathered to my last repose, and walk in Heaven with my father and my dead brothers. And I knew no tremor of fear, but only the greatest assurance that the Savior is the Resurrection and the Life, and that my Redeemer liveth, and that although now I did walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I need fear no evil, for He was with me, and His rod and His staff did comfort me. I consumed the fruit and spat forth the kernel, and looked toward Kinguri, my dark brother that was now become mine enemy, and saw the fire of his eyes, and the sternness of his gaze that did run like a cable taut between his soul and mine. And a moment passed, and I did not fall, and I did not choke and swell, and I did not perish; and there was a snapping of that cable between Kinguri and me, for he sat slumping backward in the greatest of disappointment and the deepest of dejection, snarling a little to see that I lived. From Calandola came a thundering laugh, and the Imbe-Jaqqa did stand and clap his hands, and cry out, “It is done, Andubatil! Thy mokisso is with thee, and proclaims thy innocence!” And taking the bowl of palm-fruit from his witch, he hurled the remainder into the bushes, and reached out his arm toward me in jubilance of fellowship.
12
Thus was I returned back into the good graces of the Imbe-Jaqqa, and lay no longer at risk of my life. I was set free, and carried up beside Imbe Calandola to share his wine, and all men of the Jaqqa nation hailed me once again as one of their lords. All save Kinguri, who drew apart, sulking, as had Achilles in his tent; for Kinguri’s former love for me now was turned entirely to enmity, and he could not bear that I was a favorite of his brother.
There was still the matter of Dona Teresa to be played out: for she was under mortal sentence, and that could not be appealed. Nor did I have enough credit with Calandola to win her free, since that she had committed indisputable treachery, and would have worked the ruin of his scheme of war, had her slave managed to bring the warning to the Portugals. So she would perish, without further trial, but not until the nganga-men said that it was an auspicious moment for the execution.
Calandola’s plan of marching upon São Paulo de Loanda had been entirely put into abeyance and suspension by these recent events, and now was further suspended, for the moon had passed into an improper phase. No heavy action now might be taken until the sorcerers gave their consent. The moon does have great import to these Jaqqas, who think it has forcible operation in the body of man, and is the planet most prejudicial to his health, and to be shunned. On nights when the moon is fullest they do utter special prayers to their mokissos, and postpone any major deeds. Indeed, Kinguri once did tell me that he had forgotten his prayer of a certain time, and the moon shining upon his shoulder left him with such an extraordinary pain, and furious burning in it, that he was like to run mad, but in the end, with force of medicines and cures, after long torment was he eased. The slaying of Dona Teresa required a grand feast, and the feast could not just then be held owing to the moon, and the war could not begin until the feast, and therefore all stood still, held unmoving upon the brink.
God’s blood, but I would not have her slain!
She was huge in my mind, and for all that she had done against me, I could not forget how she had cared for me in that ancient illness of mine, and our early love, and the closeness we once had had; nor was I unmindful of her beauty and the fire that it kindled in me; and I think that even though I had hurled her carven image into the river, yet even now it still held a power over me, reaching forth across many leagues to impinge upon my soul. How could I let her perish? I had vowed to protect her; that vow still bound me; and if I stood idly by and let her die the death, I should be no man. Yet she was doomed, and she was well guarded, and it would be worth both our lives for me to make any sort of rash attempt at freeing her. Nor could I win her pardon from the Imbe-Jaqqu. So I did brood a day and a second day, without reaching a resolution, and time was running short for Dona Teresa. Soon I should have to act, or know that I had failed her. He that is in the dance must needs dance on, though he do but hop.