Acacia - Secrets of an African Painting by Paul Bondsfield

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN - CONFRONTATION

  Our celebrations were short lived as the two witchdoctors appeared silently, as if from nowhere. Tara saw them first and gave a little gasp, her hand at her mouth. I spun round to see them simply standing there, smiling, but without any trace of mirth evident in their eyes.

  ‘Congratulations my friends, it seems that you have found whatever you came for.’ The old man spoke first, the smile never leaving his face. ‘But now is the time to honour your side of the bargain and share with us.’

  ‘We have found nothing yet,’ I replied, ‘just a place that’s all. We don’t know if there is anything here or not.’

  The smile left their faces and they came closer to us, looking around for any signs that we were lying. ‘So, how will you know? Where will this thing be if it is here?’

  I thought briefly about trying to bluff our way out of this, but decided the risks were too great. I wasn’t sure what these two were capable of, but out here, they could get away with anything and they probably knew that.

  ‘It is buried here somewhere, but we don’t know exactly where.’ I was telling the truth now as we hadn’t quite got around to solving this part of the puzzle.

  Tara’s face was once again masked with fury as she listened to this conversation, but I think she knew as well as I that we were in no position to negotiate, so for now, she remained silent.

  ‘Then, I suggest you find out and start digging.’ The younger man chipped in now, ‘we have not got much time.’

  A thought occurred to me. ‘How do we know that you have upheld your end of the bargain?’ I asked. ‘How do we know that you have not arranged all this and that this other man is not hiding amongst the mopane, waiting to attack with his friends?’

  The old man answered. ‘You do not know, but I have seen the shame of an old warrior and I can tell you that it is so.’

  His answer was mysterious and didn’t really settle my nerves, but for some reason, as he stared sadly into my eyes, I believed what he said.

  ‘The time for talk has come to an end.’ The young man said. ‘Now you must dig.’

  ‘And what if we refuse?’ Tara hissed back, taking a step towards him, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

  ‘This is a big empty land. People can get lost here.’ That was all he needed to say to convince me of the danger we were in. I put a restraining hand on her shoulder and she stopped, trembling with fury, but knowing we had to do what they asked.

  We pulled the shovels we had borrowed from Albert from the car and turned to the dark patch on the ground, where the old acacia must have stood.

  ‘He said in his diary that we should look behind the acacia,’ I said quietly, ‘so I guess that means the opposite side of the tree to where he stood when he painted the picture.’

  It seemed to make sense and Tara nodded agreement. We hit the hard ground with the blades of the shovels, and immediately knew that this was going to take some time.

  ‘You might as well make yourselves comfortable,’ I said over my shoulder to the two men, ‘the ground is hard as rock, so it won’t be quick.’

  ‘Thank you for your concern for our well being, but we will stand.’ The old man said, planting his feet as if ready to endure a long wait.

  I shrugged and turned back to the task at hand. ‘At least you could try and help.’ I turned again to the young man, ‘You would surely not let a woman do the work of a man.’ I didn’t know if this would stir his ego at all, but thought it worth a try.

  ‘I think this woman is worthy of such work.’ He smiled a thin, humourless smile, standing firm where he was.

  The blisters had started to rub painfully on my hand and the hot sun was burning my skin when Tara suddenly fell forward into the pit we had dug. I jumped in to help her out, but she was exhausted and refused to move. It had been several hours now and we had not found any sign of a hoard of diamonds or anything else to indicate we were anywhere close. I called out to the two witchdoctors, who stood implacably where they had been from the start. I had to admire their stamina at least; they didn’t seem to notice the heat at all and had not so much as twitched since we started.

  ‘We are going to take a break.’ I said. ‘She needs to rest for a while.’

  I didn’t wait for an answer before I picked her up and assisted her over to the car where we could rest in the shade. I grabbed a bottle of water and we both drank thirstily, the warm liquid spilling down our fronts in our haste.

  After ten minutes, the younger man lost his patience. ‘You will dig again now, time for rest is over.’

  ‘No, we will rest some more.’ I replied, not willing to start again until Tara had recovered.

  ‘I say you will dig now.’ His voice raised in anger.

  Again I refused. ‘No we will not. If you want to have a go then be my guest, but we are tired and we will stay here until we are ready, and not before.’ My own limits were getting close now and my voice was louder in defiance of the treatment we were receiving. I jumped to my feet, fists clenched ready in defence.

  He suddenly pulled a knife from nowhere and started towards me ready to strike when his mouth flew open in surprise and pain. With his eyes wide in bewilderment, he stopped short and looked down at his chest. I followed his gaze to see something protruding, dripping with the blood that was already starting to run from the wound. He pitched forward to the ground, strangely silent and lay still.

  I was transfixed by what had happened, my brain not able to comprehend it. The old man was similarly affected and just stood there, staring at his apprentice, jaw slack with amazement at the long spear that stuck out of his back, wavering slightly with what was left of the momentum that had driven it there.

  There was a loud yell from behind and he turned just in time to witness his own death coming towards him. The blade of the assegai swept a flashing arc through the air, barely slowing as it bit into the flesh of the old man’s neck, slicing through tendon and bone like a hot knife through butter. His head didn’t move for an instant, like the crockery on the tablecloth, ripped away by a magician. Then slowly it toppled to the ground, rolling over in the dust that stuck to the wet, bloody stains. The eyes were still open with the look of amazement they had shown in their last seconds of life, and then slowly they closed as the old man’s body slumped to the ground for the last time.

  I stared in horror at the two corpses lying in the dirt at my feet, still stunned at the speed with which their lives had been taken from them. Then I looked up and saw the old street seller from Harare standing there, panting and sweating from the exertion of what he had done and with a second spear ready in his right hand.

  ‘Shed no tears for these jackals,’ he said, the spear still held ready, ‘they were going to kill you anyway. They are dogs, nothing more, and would kill just for their own personal gain.’

  I recovered a little and managed to prise apart dried lips to speak. ‘And you? What do you kill for?’

  ‘Ah, a perceptive question.’ He paused. ‘I kill for the nation and to avenge the deaths of others. Personal gain means nothing to me; I am old and have little time left anyway.’

  ‘What do you propose to do now?’ I asked, wondering if I could get to him before he let loose with the spear. It would be a gamble as the distance between us was great and I had already seen how effective his throwing arm could be.

  ‘Now, I am afraid that I must take back what belongs to the Matabele people. Taken by your ancestor and buried here for the past hundred years, it is time for it to come back to us.’

  Then he started to chant, almost singing a rhythmic refrain that made no sense to me.

  They will bring only misery to the nation until a time when the dogs rule the land and my people; when false rulers starve the people; when greed stops the food crops growing in the fields; when the nation is cheated by its own; when the warriors who never fought take over the land; when the wise men are taught by the ignorant. Then, the stones will find their use.

  H
e finished and was silent. I was unsure of the true significance of what he had said but knew then how powerful these stones were to this man and that he would stop at nothing to get them back.

  ‘And us?’ I continued, I thought I knew the answer to my question, but wanted to stall for as long as I could, to work out the options.

  ‘If I can regain the diamonds, then you can go free. I came to take my revenge for the death of my son, but I think now that there has been too much death already.’

  I didn’t believe him. His eyes were wild and I figured his mind had already gone past reason, lies coming as easily as truth. But I wanted to try and calm him, to get closer to stand any chance at all of grabbing the spear from his grasp.

  I could feel my heart pounding in my throat as I continued.

  ‘How does your son’s death affect us?’ I asked him.

  ‘He died protecting the stones from your woman’s parents,’ he replied, giving Tara a look that confirmed my suspicions of his intentions.

  ‘He was here with me and so were they, close to a discovery that could have destroyed our chances of ever defeating our enemies. They fought and he died, that is all. I was weaker then, unable to kill them for the grief I felt and they left with the strong woman from the old days. I was so weak that I couldn’t even take his body back with me and had to leave him here so that the land could take him back.

  This story seemed to confirm our fears that Tara’s parents and Nellie had indeed been involved in the death of a man out here, but what he said made me believe that they killed him in self defence as he fought with them.

  ‘But you say you have forgiven Tara for that time?’ I enquired, wanting to get another admission from him.

  ‘Yes, it is over now. There has been too much blood, with no need for more to be spilt.’ I almost started to believe him, until once again I looked into his eyes.

  ‘Okay. You can have the diamonds. You are right, they are tainted with too much blood now and I don’t want them anymore.’

  Tara, who had been standing silently through this exchange, suddenly took a step closer. A deep growl came from her throat and without looking at her I assumed she was building up for an attack on the old man. I stepped back to be in line with her, never taking my eyes off the spear in the old man’s grasp. I looked quickly at her, ready to calm her for a moment, and then realised that she was looking at me and not him at all.

  ‘You will not give away my treasure.’ She hissed at me, spittle forming at the corners of her mouth. ‘I have come too far and it is mine now, I will kill you if you try and give it to this man.’

  I was shocked at this new turn of events and whispered from the corner of my mouth, ‘calm down, I’m just stalling.’

  To the old man I said, ‘We have just found them here, come and get them and we will leave.’

  Before I had the chance to say or do anything more, Tara suddenly attacked me, her hands clawing at my face, nails raking through my skin, drawing blood that I felt run down my neck. The tears that sprang from my eyes temporarily blinded me and what followed happened in a slow motion pink mist, tainted with the blood from the cuts on my face.

  I pushed her away, but then saw that the old man was drawing his arm back ready to throw. As I looked on in horror, I could see that he was aiming for Tara who by now was screaming at the top of her voice, hysterical with rage. I ran towards him, arms stretched out in front of me, trying with every sinew in my body to reach him before he let his weapon loose. Tara screamed again and ran forward, putting herself back into his line of sight. I saw her face for an instant and didn’t recognise her at all, her features replaced by an horrific mask of hate and I knew in that instant that she intended to kill the old man. I dived for him just as he lunged towards her, his spear arm a blur as he let the long weapon fly. I collided with him, knocking him to the ground and listened with fascinated horror as his head smashed against a rock with a dull, wet thud. I rolled over and watched the spear arc through the air. It seemed to be airborne for minutes and I screamed her name as Tara took the full force of the metal point high on her chest, piercing her flesh and driving through her, blood spurting from front and back. She was knocked back instantly, the shock registering on her face for a second before she slumped to the ground. Then her eyes closed and there was silence as she laid still, her blood dripping slowly from her body to be claimed forever by the dry, African earth.

  THE END

 
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