Date: Thu, 15 Nov 2012 15:00:45 +1300
From: Arthur <artcart65@vodafone.co.nz>
Subject: the thread chapter 10

				THE THREAD

				CHAPTER 10

				 BY ARTHUR



We could do little more than watch the large well trained Dinka warriors
close in on the two smaller teens as they stood side by side, their weapons
ready and their metal fittings shining in the sunlight, Tzuma's short
handled Assegai was held high while his shield scattered light around him,
its very sharp lower edge glinted with menace as the warriors ran closer.

These were well trained warriors, they had no intention of being caught out
by bravado and inexperience, there would be no individual show of bravery,
these men had been sent to kill the nuisance boys standing alone on the
field, all six of them spread out in a curved line as they approached, by
attacking in a single unit they would overpower the two smaller boys with
their superior size and numbers, the two boys stood firm, only the slight
shuffling of Tzuma's feet as he looked for his balance, betrayed any sign
of nerves, Gregor stood still, holding his head up high almost as though he
was arrogant and thought the approaching warriors were no more than flies
to be swatted away.

The semi circle of warriors was now no more than a few steps away, as one,
they ran forward, their long spears lowered to gut the two boys before they
could defend themselves, the echoing sound of metal on wood rang around the
now silent field, silent except for the continuing hum of high flying
arrows as they continued to take their toll of the massed ranks, their
leader seemed oblivious of the damage being done to his men as the tableau
unfolded below them.

Tzuma went to one knee as the closest warrior stabbed viciously at his
midsection then, with the speed of a striking snake, Tzuma half rose and
whirled around on his knees, his left arm outstretched with the leading
edge of the shield slicing through the stomach of the attacker, his assegai
he used to parry another strike by the warrior on his right, the Mythral
shield was now crimson as the first warrior yelled and collapsed on his
knees, his insides now falling to the dry grass of the field.

Gregor's sword had flashed twice in the blink of an eye, the first slash
had severed the long spear just behind the metal head, the returning slash
had severed the warriors head from his shoulders, Gregor turned his
attention fully on the remaining two warriors on his side, they were not
going to just rush in for the slaughter, smartly using the longer reach of
their spears, they tried stabbing Gregor from a distance, keeping his
deadly sword out of reach of their flesh.

Tzuma was also now at a disadvantage as his two remaining warriors also
took up their stance just out of reach of his assegai, his Mythral shield
was now the only thing keeping him uninjured as the two spears probed and
stabbed at him, his one big advantage was his youth and physical ability
which had been honed by Peitro, Tzuma continued to block with his shield or
parry with his assegai as he waited to find an opening, his feet danced
over the grass and soon the larger warriors were sweating profusely, the
awkwardness of their long spears starting to take a toll on the arms of the
bigger and heavier men.

Both boys kept their concentration as they slowly began to wear down the
larger men, every now and then, Tzuma or Gregor would close in and be able
to inflicted a flesh wound on one or other of the attackers and then dance
back out of the way of the longer spears, this, added to the already anger
of the men, soon had the frustrated warriors starting to make small errors
of judgement, the nicks and small cuts grew as the two boys saw their
adversaries weakening, both from the frantic pace of the fighting but also
from the slow blood loss the small cuts caused.

It was now evident too all that were watching that the remaining four
warriors were outclassed, Tzuma danced, twirled and leapt as he parried and
cut with his assegai, the end coming as something of an anti climax as,
suddenly, Tzuma went in close to the two warriors, another slash with his
shield and an upward thrust of his assegai, and the two warriors were lying
dead on the ground, followed quickly by the two that had been trying
futilely to rid themselves of Gregor, three flashes of his sword and they
also joined their compatriots.

The drawn out groan of the last warrior was heard by everyone watching,
Gregor and Tzuma looked down at their fallen foe, their bodies glistening
with their own sweat and some of the blood of their vanquished enemies,
from along our ridge top came the long drawn out call of "Bayete" as the
two small warriors turned their backs and made their way back to us, on the
field below lay only the bodies of those foolish enough to attack boys that
were protected by the Creator.

The leader of the Dinka seemed stunned as he watched the two small boys
walk away from what he thought was their certain death, twelve of his
warriors lay on the burnt grass and not even the smallest of cuts had been
administered on the two boys, as he watched, his anger grew, turning to the
rest of his warriors, he called for the blood of the Mandingo, he was met
with a low grumble and a shuffling of feet, to his warriors there had to be
a special magic used, they were not happy about going into an attack
against magic, the anger of the leader grew even hotter as he saw how his
massed warriors had been decimated by the arrows, something they had not
faced before, the fact that so few archers could cut his lines to shreds
with such ease, now began to settle in his stomach.

Although he still had more numbers than the Mandingo, the obvious use of
some form of magic to give his enemy more speed and strength began to creep
into his irate brain, the Mandingo warriors alone he could defeat but,
magic was another thing, the before unseen flashing metal of the boys also
spoke of magic and, the fact that a single Mandingo warrior who was not
much more than a boy as well as the strange white boy who looked more like
a spirit ghost than a black skinned Mandingo also shook him awake.

Simba Aali could feel the indecision in his opponent, with a loud call he,
and all his warriors rushed down the side of the ridge in a full out charge
at the Dinka lines, for myself, I could not resist the temptation to
unsettle the Dinka further, wriggling my feet into the soil of the hillock,
I lifted my right hand and called for Ranganui to give me help, after
chanting the correct words, I felt the power of the sky father build inside
me, once full, I reached out my right hand and threw the built up sky fire
into the massed ranks of the Dinka, it was all that was needed to confirm
in the minds of the enemy that there was magic here, as the first lines of
the Mandingo clashed with those of the Dinka and, with the heavy smell of
ozone in the air from the lightening, the ranks of the Dinka began to
crumble.

Large numbers of the Dinka began to turn and run from the fierce enemy that
could use magic, the Mandingo followed close behind causing more slaughter
as they realised they had won the day against their most hated enemy, the
blood letting would not finish in a hurry, it was a chance for the Mandingo
to get revenge for past losses including the enslavement of the Kings two
sons, as the lines had closed, my archers had stopped firing, Tzuma and
Gregor had rejoined us, we had no intention of joining in the bloody
slaughter that was taking place across from us.

The King's men were taking a terrible toll on the fleeing enemy, he was
also suffering losses but no where near the same numbers as the retreating
enemy, the smell of death and blood was now heavy in the air as the toll
mounted, looking at my friends and as if in full agreement, we turned from
the ridge top and started the journey back to our Kraal, our fight was over
we had no intention of being part of the slaughter that followed.

We had been back at the Kraal for some time when we heard the first of the
returning warriors entering the main Kraal, there was the sound of
jubilation as they shouted out their own stories of conquest to the women
who had gathered to watch for their return, it was tradition that had the
King arrive last so that all the warriors could form an honour guard as he
strode in through the main gate, behind him were tied those he had
captured.

The prisoners were all tied about the neck with thick rope, their hands
bound behind them, at the head of the long column of beaten Dinka, walked
their leader, he had a limp and was bleeding profusely from a large gash in
his forehead, you could easily read in his eyes that he knew what was to
come, there was not even the faintest hint of defiance left in him, his end
would not be quick, for King Simba Aali, there was much revenge to be had
from his sworn enemy.

Once all the returning warriors had rested and been fed, the sun was
beginning to set, we received a call from King Simba Aali to join him in
the main Kraal, tonight there would be a large festival to mark his victory
over the hated Dinka, it was also an excuse to wreck his revenge on those
he had captured, it was on this night that I learnt a lesson that would
stay with me for many, many years.

Once the sun had set and the first shadows of the night had begun to fall
around us, the King called for dancing and music, the women formed up in
long lines around the very edge of the kraal and began their high pitched
ululations while the men, dressed in their best feathers and finery,
stamped and sang about their victory, fresh cooked meats and large platters
of fruit and vegetables were laid out before us and the King, all the small
children were included in the victory ceremony, it would go on all night.

The victory feast finished apart from those who wished to continue
snacking, the King called for the first of the prisoners to be brought out,
the first group was a string of thirty very young looking warriors, it was
obvious that they had only just made it into manhood, most of them had
little or no man hair as they stood naked in front of the whole tribe.

The silence that settled around the Kraal was almost palpable as the King
stood up from his throne like chair, he then went on to talk about the
great victory over their most hated enemy the Dinka, at the end of the
cheering and ululations of the women, the King looked at the young
warriors, most had already soiled themselves in their fear, they knew they
were going to die but it was the thought of how it was to be done that
really scared the very young boys, these far away tribes had a very cruel
streak in their make up.

The boys were being held by two large warriors, one on each arm, at a
command from King Simba Aali, two more warriors joined them and the boys
were unceremoniously thrown on the ground on their backs, the warriors
holding the boys arms, sat on the ground one on each arm and placed one
foot against the boys rib cage, pulling the boys arm tightly out to the
side, it was easy to see the strain on the boys arm sockets as the two full
grown men leaned back.

Next came the warriors on the boys legs, they also spread the boys legs
wide and braced themselves, the boys legs were almost spread level with
their hips, next came the Kings voice and, from the crowd of women, thirty
older women came running, the glint in their eyes was both from the
fermented millet beer they all drank, and from the prospect of what lay
ahead.

The thirty boys lay writhing on the ground but movement was very restricted
by the four large warriors holding them, the old women closed with the
captors, going down on their wrinkled knees, they grasped the testicles of
each boy and began to belittle them for their smallness, all the time
squeezing them and bringing loud yelps of pain from the hapless boys.

The boy's screams increased when the old crones flashed sharp cooking
knives in their hands and continued their teasing of the youths by running
the knives over their scrotums and penis, what happened next was so fast
that it would have been easy to miss it, with a sudden flash of the knives,
the old women slit the sack of each boy and pushed with their fingers, the
boys testicles popped out of their sack as the blood ran from the cuts, the
boys screamed louder as the old women bent to their groins and, with a
movement so fast for such old crones, they bit through the cords holding
the boys testicle in their sack.

The screams of the young boys could be heard echoing out on the empty grass
lands as the old women chewed, then swallowed the boys testicles, leaving
only an empty bloody sack and thirty castrated boys screaming and writhing
on the ground, even the large well built warriors had trouble holding the
boys down as the pain coursed through their bodies, for over an hour this
scene repeated itself with all the youngest of the enemy warriors, there
were over two hundred boys that were now castrated.

Once the old women had finished with the boys, they were bound up and left
in a hut under guard, if they were still alive in the morning and did not
die from infection, they would eventually be sold into slavery, it appeared
that the Toureg had a penchant for eunuchs of a very young age as they sold
well on the markets of the known world.

It was then the turn of the older warriors, those who had just reached
manhood were given the choice of death or slavery, much to my amazement,
most chose death, it seemed that they preferred a quick death rather than
having to bow their heads for the rest of their lives, I am now sure that,
had they known the form of their deaths they would have chosen slavery, the
vicious streak of these Mandingo, knew no bounds.

The penchant for mutilation of captives appeared to be a normal thing for
these people, of all of them, the women were the most vicious, this was the
lesson I would never forget, men can be cruel but, women were plain vicious
and very inventive in their ways to torture a man, most of the women had a
definite liking for the reduction of the mans genitalia, it was as if they
were getting revenge for their station in life, not that the men did not
find some very creative ways to dispose of their captives, the most popular
was the staking of the captives while still alive.

Staking was also done in numbers, the King had had ten stakes buried in the
ground, they were as thick as a mans thigh and sharpened to a point at the
top, the captives would be lifted high by many hands and. With their legs
spread wide, they would be lowered with a little force onto the sharpened
stakes, once they had been impaled, they would be released by their
captives and, as they writhed in pain and agony, their movements would
force them lower on the sharpened stake until eventually after much agony
and pain, they would die of blood loss and shock.

Once dead, the staked bodies would be removed and thrown over the walls of
the Kraal for the wild animals to feed on, all through that night the
staking took place and, when the sun finally rose, over four hundred enemy
had been staked and disposed of over the wall, it would be the work of the
women this morning, to drag the bodies further out onto the grass lands,
for us, we had retired to our Kraal long before the main event started.

We awoke to a silence in the Kraals, everyone except the old crones was now
asleep, either from the excess in killing or from too much of the fermented
beer, in the air I could smell the blood of the previous night, I also knew
that it was far from over, there were still prisoners left, when I left our
Kraal to look for water, I was followed by Peitro and Tzuma, it seemed that
I now had two body guards or, Tzuma was there protecting Peitro, it was
hard to tell with them.

I walked through the main Kraal, of the two hundred young boys that had
been turned into eunuchs; there had been some ten that had died during the
night, of the others there were only listless looks of defeat and pain, for
them their normal lives had finished, they would now be bought and sold at
the whim of their new masters, most of the boys still tried to stay alive,
they kept the ever growing horde of flies from their blood encrusted groins
in an attempts to stave off infection.

As I watched the hopelessness of the boys, my heart gave a jolt, while I
could not change anything for them, it was the way of this land, I could
however, help the surviving boys, I stopped and looked around the Kraal,
there was no one in sight, I stooped low and rested my right hand on the
ground, pulling power from nearby ley lines, I stretched out my left hand
and spoke the words of healing, making sure I covered each and every boy,
at least now they would be healed and no infection could enter the cuts on
their scrotum, I did not have enough power to replace their testicles and
it would also not be a good idea to be caught doing so.

I now felt my conscience to be a little clearer as the groans of pain
slackened among the young boys, at least now they had a chance to survive,
of the dead men who had been staked, their bodies were even now being
dragged unceremoniously out into the grasslands, the women working in
groups of three or four, it was a grisly task but they seemed unconcerned
as they cleared away the walls, in some places the bodies had already been
chewed upon.

On our return to the Kraal, I saw a very large pile of arrows, each had
been cleaned and tied in bundles of twenty or so, it appeared they had been
collected from the sight of the battle and returned to the boys, although,
with the aide of the Creator, they were not really needed but, I saw it as
a sign of generosity by the warriors, they had been well served by the
archers.

Our small Kraal was now busy as the boys broke their fast and sat talking
about the night before and what had happened, none of them were all that
happy about the means of revenge by the Mandingo and, after some
discussion, asked if we could make plans to leave this place as soon as
possible, I readily agreed, I was used to the blood of battle but the
aftermath of this one was a little more than I liked to think of, I could
forgive the Mandingo to a certain extent as it was their way but, I was
still not happy about it, it was time to move on and follow the Thread, its
pull was stronger than ever and was getting harder to hold in check.

That night, the torture of the captives continued, King Simba Aali showed
surprise that so many of the young boys had survived and that they were all
showing signs of healing so soon, before the killing of the captives
started, the King called for both Gregor and Tzuma to step forward, once in
front of the wooden throne, the King began to tell the village of the
bravery of the two boys, describing in detail how they had fought against
larger numbers and better trained warriors, when he had finished his
speech, the King told Gregor and Tzuma to go and select ten castrated boys
each for their own use as slaves, it was one of those presents that could
not be refused and so, both boys went over to the now quiet boys and
selected ten each, had they been able to they would have taken them all but
that could not be, at least they had saved twenty of them.

Again we left before the really bad part of the torture started, it was in
the morning that we saw what remained of the enemy leader and could only
guess at what he had been put through by his tormentors, his remains were
hardly recognisable as that of a man, the old crones had been at work on
him as well as the stakes and many other forms of torture I had no idea
about, his end had been long and painful, it was definitely time for us to
leave.

It was Tzuma that took charge of the twenty slave boys, he had grown
quickly now that he was held in high regard by the boys and also now his
own tribe even though he would never be accepted back with them, during the
night I was never left alone, Tzuma had the twenty slaves sleep on the
ground inside my hut so that I was surrounded by their bodies, for anyone
to get to me they would have to climb over the boys, it was a very
effective alarm, during the day the twenty slaves were put too work getting
things ready for our departure, I got faint hints that the King was not
happy about it but, I explained we had a quest that had to be finished, he
was still not happy but the laws of hospitality forbade him taking any
action to stop us from leaving.

It was to be another two weeks before we were ready to leave, the twenty
slaves would now carry all our food and water along with the extra arrows
that had been returned from the battle as well as some little bedding and
thick wool clothe to make a tent for sleeping, the slaves had been given a
skimpy loin cloth to wear they would need some protection for their boyhood
even though they no longer had testicles, their demeanour was now one of
acceptance, they at least knew by now that they were better off with us
than staying in the Kraal.

On the morning of our departure, I decided to leave a parting gift or
should I say, a reminder to the King, that it would not be a good idea to
follow us and try to ambush us at a later time, as I walked through the
huge tusks that had guarded our Kraal, I spoke a spell over them, any man
or woman trying to enter the Kraal would fall ill, in the dark of the night
the tips of the tusks would glow with a blue light, this was to tell the
Mandingo that it was a place of magic and could not be entered, I hoped
they would get the message.

We travelled for two weeks before we saw another person, he was a young boy
with a mighty herd of cattle, the beasts covered many parts of the small
valley below us, the boy was tall for his age and wore only a red cape over
his shoulders, underneath he was naked and, in his hand was a long thin
stick, sharpened at one end, much like a spear but also like a wand to herd
the cattle which ever way he wanted them to go, in the distance there were
other young boys, also dressed as he was, it was Tzuma that told me they
were the Maasai herd boys, it was my first meeting of the tall slender
people that were also not only herders but very proficient fighters and
feared by most of the other tribes.

Gregor was quick to set out our boys in a defensive pattern, one that they
had practiced often for just such an occasion, our willing slave boys took
up their place in the centre of the two columns and behind Peitro and
myself with Tzuma at the rear, Gregor lead from the front along with his
swordsmen.

When we were seen by the young herd boy, he immediately raised his head and
sent out four long whistle blasts that echoed around the valley and carried
a long distance, from every nook and cranny, the other herd boys came
running and, in the distance, on top of a low ridge, came the figure of a
grown man, from this distance it was hard to tell his height or age but by
the look of things, he was very tall, almost as tall as a plains Elf, I
could see he also wore the long red cloth but held a spear tipped with
metal, as we stood and watched, he turned and disappeared while the boys
below went into herding the cattle into a close group for protection.

There was no panic or alarm from the boys below, they seemed to know just
what to do when strangers appeared, their first concern was for the safety
of the cattle, I would learn that the whole world of the Maasai revolved
around their cattle, without them the Maasai felt as though they were
nothing but lesser men, they would fight and die to hold onto their cattle
and yet, would walk away if some of their women were taken by slavers or an
enemy, as long as the cattle were safe they had little concern.

It was a genuine surprise to see that the cattle kept coming from all
corners of the shallow valley, when finally they were amassed at the centre
of the valley and the herd boys were spread around the outside, it looked
like nothing more than a sea of cattle, their large greyish bodies stirred
up the soft dust and their large thick horns clashed with each other as
they tussled for position, the herd boys somehow keeping control.

We were about to go down the small ridge when we saw the tall warriors
appear over the far off ridge, they kept coming and the numbers grew
quickly, it soon looked like lines of tall dark trees with long red cloths
swirling around their trunks, their shields held in the left hand and their
long spears in their right, at a silent signal they all moved into the
valley in a long loping stride that covered the ground effortlessly.

It took no time at all before the large group of warriors were spread out
in three ranks across the valley below us, to get to the cattle one would
have to go through these lines, even for us, it would be a daunting task,
it was Tzuma that took the initiative, with Gregor and Peitro by his side,
he led them towards the Maasai holding his spear and shield above his head,
it was a sign of peace, it also opened his torso to show the Maasai he was
vulnerable and meant no harm.

Once the three of them were on flat ground, they stopped some little
distance from the Maasai warriors and squatted down to wait for the
warriors to make up their mind about them, it didn't take long before six
Maasai came towards them, spears and shields at the ready, their whole
posture indicating wariness, these people did not take too strangers
easily.

It was another ten minutes after the Maasai had closed with our small
party, finally squatting down and beginning talks, that they again rose and
the three boys turned and signalled for us to join them as the warriors
called out loudly to their own that all was well and we were no threat, it
was not until later I found out how brave Tzuma had been, the Maasai and
Mandingo had been enemies for generations and most were usually killed on
sight but, Tzuma's bravery had somehow impressed the Maasai and they had
been prepared to at least listen to his reason for being on their lands.

Although, like other tribes, the Maasai had their own dialect, they also
used the common Swahili when dealing with outsiders or for trade, it was
not until we were allowed to enter their large village that we understood
what sort of trouble we could have been in, if we thought that King Simba
Aali's Kraal was large, the Maasai put it to shame, from a distance I could
see that the village was spread out over many acres of land, the stake
fence that surrounded it went on for ever.

In the village the number of women alone, were more than the total
occupants of the Kings Kraal, add the herd boys and warriors and they
outnumbered the Mandingo King's Kraal by some large number, although the
Maasai were formidable warriors, they truly were more concerned with their
cattle than going to war on others, that evening, I was too see the largest
herd of cattle that had ever gathered in one place, they came in from the
for winds, the dust stirred up by their hooves filled the air until it was
like a red haze over the village.

Once the herd was around the village, we saw that the herd boys still never
left them, I was to learn that the boys would stay by the side of the
cattle until they came of age to join the warriors, the boys meals were
taken directly from the cattle and, only in the evening, did some of the
women take a thick soup, much like gruel out to them, the rest of the time
the boys would suckle milk directly from the cows teat or, using their
sharpened sticks, they would puncture the blood line in the neck of the
cattle and drink the warm blood as it flowed from the small wound, of the
milk suckling, it was hard to tell who enjoyed it the most as many of the
young boys soon had erections as they sucked on the warm teat.

We were taken to the centre of the large village, fully surrounded by the
warriors, the first person we were to meet was their medicine man, he was
an ancient but his eyes were clear and penetrating although his body was
bent and the skin was wrinkled with age, when he glanced at me, his eyes
opened wide and he began to mumble to himself and his hands were making
signs in the air as the bones on his thin hide belt rattled, when his small
spell or whatever it was, was complete, he turned and hobbled off to one of
the larger huts.

>From the door of the darkened hut strode a man of middle years, he was
taller than even a plains Elf, his almost black skin shone brightly turning
it almost blue in the dying sun light, on his cheeks were the thin scars of
his initiation, he carried only the long spear of the Maasai and was
dressed, as were all the warriors, in the knee length red cloth under which
he was like the others, completely naked, he was a very impressive looking
man, as were most of the warriors and young men of the Maasai.

After looking over the others, this man whom I guessed was their chief,
stared long and hard at me, suddenly his face lit up and his broad lips
spread into a smile that showed off a fine large set of perfect teeth, with
a few words in his own dialect, he sent off the warriors and then, in
Swahili, he invited us to sit and eat with him, this of course did not turn
out to be as simple as it sounded, eating with the Maasai for a special
occasion turned out to take up most of the night, we were yet to find this
out.

The first thing served was a mixture that we all found hard to accept at
first, it was a concoction of warm milk and fresh blood served in a wooden
bowl, the first swallow was the hardest but had to be endured for the sake
of hospitality, once drunk by all of us, the tension eased and everyone
began to enjoy the occasion, soon lines of young girls were dancing and
singing as we ate, the mountain of food seemed to appear as if by magic.

The chief was a talkative man and had no trouble in keeping us entertained
amid the dancing and singing of the young ones, as the girls danced they
were occasionally joined by younger single men who's form of dance seemed
to be a competition to see whom could leap the highest from a standing
position, it was very impressive when you saw the massed ranks of single
men all trying to outdo each other, the young girls also seemed to be
impressed.

The chief was only different from the other warriors in that the medicine
man never left his side, it was the only way to tell he was different,
there were no other outward signs of his position in the tribe, it was very
late in the night before we were shown to a large hut at the centre of the
village, it was made from thick branches that were then covered with a type
of grass matting and then plastered with a mixture of mud and cow dung and
left to dry, the floor was tamped earth and quite solid, at the centre of
the hut was a small fire, also fuelled by cow dung, it seemed the Maasai
wasted nothing that came from their cattle, even the young warriors hair
was plastered with it after it was mixed with red ochre, it was the symbol
of the Maasai.

When we awoke the next morning, it was to the subdued sound of the women at
work, the warriors, all apart from those set to protect the village, were
now out on the grasslands, the herds had long departed for the day of
feeding and watering by the young herd boys, we were met with the milk mix
for the first meal of the day as well as the same gruel that the herd boys
had eaten the night before.

On exiting the hut after the small morning meal, we were met by the chief
once again, as we followed him he led us out of the village and talked
about his clan as we went, the old medicine man close on his heals, his
eyes continually glancing at me as we walked, the chief explained about the
boys and warriors, he was also the one that told us how important the
cattle were to the Maasai, his stories and information kept us captive
until we came to a large area of cleared scrub, here we saw a large number
of young warriors going through various practices, it was noticeable that
they seemed to stay in certain groups and, although they competed with each
other, it was noted that they always stayed within certain groups, the
chief explained it to us when we mentioned it.

The chief himself had thirty wives and twenty six sons, his eldest were
already warriors, the middle sons were in the young groups and his youngest
were herd boys, the boys were sent to herd the cattle at the age of six
years, they stayed there until they reached about thirteen or fourteen
years at which stage they were brought into small cabals of boys of the
same age, they stayed with these cabals until they reached the age of
initiation where they had to kill a great lion and then become a full
warrior, they were not allowed to have a wife until they were in their mid
twenties, all their sexual outlets were only had with the boys of their own
cabal until they married but, even at that stage, their cabal always came
first for the rest of their lives, it made for a very tight and robust
warrior cast, this is what made the Maasai so powerful.

As we looked around the practice ground, we could see these cabals in
practice, some were learning how to fight with their long spears, others
were sitting under trees and grooming each others hair or bodies but all
were paying attention to what was going on around them, it was a scene of
intense but peaceful contact.

The chief mentioned that we all seemed a little young to be moving in this
wild country without grown warriors to help guard us, when I explained that
all the boys were competent warriors in their own right, he seemed amused
at the thought of such young boys being able to defend themselves, I
pointed out the scars on Gregor and Tzuma, then went into an explanation
for him as to how they got the scars, at the end of the story he was
impressed and asked if he could see a demonstration of the boys skills as
the archers were a novelty to him and his warriors as was the shortened
assegai of Tzuma, our use of Mythral also held his attention as he had
never seen the bright white metal before.

We decided on a friendly competition, he would get some of his best
spearmen and we would have a couple of the archers, then he would select
the best of his young warriors to spar with Gregor and Tzuma, I could tell
that he thought his warriors with their long spears would easily defeat
Gregor and Tzuma and that the unknown archers may have a good competition
with his best spear throwers although he had no great expectations for the
small little arrows to be better than a full size spear.

For the spear competition, they set up an old shield at forty paces, this
was to be the target, the highest number of hits would win, the chief
called for six of his finest spear throwers, we all stood back and waited
for them to throw, at forty paces, they all hit the shield with ease,
Peitro, whom had decided to take the place of lead archer, refused to take
any shots until the target was moved further back, it was repositioned
twenty paces further away, again he let the warriors take first throw, only
one of the spear hit the far off shield, when they had finished, Peitro
asked that the shield be taken back another thirty paces.

The shield was now no bigger a target than a leaf on a tree, Peitro lined
up the six archers and set them to fire, as if they were one, the arrows
were released with a twang that could be heard far away, the soft sigh of
the arrows as they sped through the air was met with silence as the
warriors all watched with bated breath, as one, the six arrows found their
mark in the centre of the shield, a loud shout went up from the massed
warriors as they saw the effects of the arrows, their respect for the young
archers went up immediately, even their best spear thrower could not reach
the target, let alone actually hit it, the chief also was greatly
impressed.

Next came the sparring, in all fairness, Gregor asked that they have at
least six warriors to contest with the two of them, the chief, having seen
what the archers could do, had little problem in assigning six of the best
of his young warriors to spar with Gregor and Tzuma, it was decided that
the sparring would continue until first blood on each contestant, once
started, it was less than three minutes before the six young warriors were
showing small cuts on their arms and legs, they were not deep but just
enough to draw blood, Gregor and Tzuma had no intention of hurting the
young men.

There was much consoling to do for the young men once they rejoined their
cabals, the fight had been fast and furious and they had stood little
chance against the combined efforts of Gregor and Tzuma, the chief asked us
back to the village for more feasting and talk, he was now well assured of
our ability to defend ourselves, his next question was about our twenty
young slaves and how we had come by them, he could easily see that they
were of the Dinka and found it unusual that they would be held by us, again
we told the story of the battle and how we came by the boys.

We were invited to stay with the Maasai for a week and rest until we were
ready to move, it was on the night of the third day that the old medicine
man came to see me as dusk fell and the rest of the boys were settling down
for the nights feasting, in his halting and quivering voice, he asked why
one such as I would be travelling so far from my home, I went about
explaining the pull of the Thread, the old man just nodded his head as I
spoke, once I was finished, the old man looked around carefully to see that
we were not overheard, in a very soft voice he told me what he was thinking
of.

Long ago, when his Father was also medicine man of the tribe and he was
just a small boy, almost of age to go out and herd the cattle, his Father
told him of a wondrous people in a valley far away in the land of the
Xhosa, these were a people like no other in this land, their skin was white
like ours and their hair was like the power of the sun, they stood as tall
as the Maasai and their ears were of the same shape as my own, he had been
told that among these were others who had magic far superior to that of the
medicine men of the Maasai or any other tribe, if I was following a Thread
of magic, perhaps that was where I would find my treasure.

When I asked him how far this valley was, he could not answer but said it
was many, many weeks of travel to the south, it had also been many years
ago that he had been told so he was not sure if it was true or just a story
to frighten young boys with but he did say that his Father had been a very
powerful medicine man so, there may have been some truth in the story, I
thanked the old man and went to join the boys for the feast, the story
running through my head as I sat and looked around.

That night, as I sat surrounded by the double ring of slave boys, my
thoughts were on what I had been told by the old man, if his story was true
then I knew that my intended was only weeks away and the pull of the
Thread, though even stronger and more demanding than it had ever been,
would soon be satisfied, my intended was now close and I began to wonder
what he would look like, would he be tall like a plains Elf, or would he be
dark like myself and hold the power of a mage, so much was unknown that my
mind would not rest enough to let me sleep in peace, the added noises of
boys making love to their partners also did not make it easy for me.

Our week with the Maasai was just what we needed before venturing off to
find the end of the Thread, as a parting gift, the chief gave me a necklace
of brightly coloured beads, it was made of many strings and was quite heavy
to wear, he told me that other Maasai tribes would recognise it and give us
safe passage through their lands, he proved to be right and our trip was
made so much easier for his thoughtfulness.

Our little group of archers, swordsmen and the twenty slaves carrying our
food and water along with our tent cloths and sleeping blankets, made its
way forward as the pull of the Thread increased by the day, it was getting
harder and harder to resist its pull, on the last day of the third week, we
entered the land of the Xhosa, our journey was about to get harder and much
more dangerous, the Xhosa, as we were about to find out, lived for battle
and conquest and our small group looked very inviting to such a war like
people, only their fear of the Maasai warriors stopped them from crossing
the border into their lands and giving battle to the Maasai, even though
the cattle were a temptation.

For some time we had been followed, and at night, surrounded by a strange
animal, it was part dog and part something from the spirit world, its yelps
and cries could be heard from dusk until dawn, these animals hunted in
large packs and, I was told by Tzuma, they could be dangerous if we were
separated and alone, while we stayed in a group they would keep their
distance, it was our introduction to the Hyena a very underestimated animal
on the wild grasslands of this continent.

It was on the second day of entering the Xhosa lands; that we came across
the remains of the Xhosa need for battle and blood, the smouldering remains
of the small village and the smell of blood filled the air around us as we
entered the clearing after walking through a dense jungle for two days.

The ground around the burnt huts was littered with the broken bones of many
men, women and children, even the smallest of babies had not been spared
and the ever roaming Hyena had well feasted on the bones and flesh of the
villagers, this was the result of the Xhosa demand for conquest and blood.


TO BE CONTINUED:

Artcart65@vodafone.co.nz