Pirates of the Sub-Sahara

Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

Description

After his escape, a sailor immediately seeks to settle old scores. He meets a dangerous man who knew the gunmen that killed his father. But in the process, he comes to learn the true cost of vengeance. In the Gulf of Guinea, dark spirits roam free.

Sujets

• Juvenilee Fiction
• People
• Places
• Africa

Informations

• Publié par: Human Change Communications Company
• Date de parution: 07 avril 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9789786020242
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 5 Mo

Extrait

Pirates of the Sub-Sahara

Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

Human Change

Communications Company

[e-mail]

Published in 2023

Copyright © Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-978-50494-7-3

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Chapter One-Strange Night

Poor weather wreaked havoc on the waters of Guzah. A ship which had struggled all day, bubbling with Makundah pirates, anchored at the shores. They were happy that they had survived the madness of the weather. They chanted victory songs and shot several bullets into the quiet hands of the night. A ladder went down. One after another, the men clambered down and waded waist-deep through the water to land.

They had enough weapons, foods and treasures stolen from past expeditions. They conquered the day and now they faced the way home to feed from their valor. The night was cold and treacherous. Glowing insects paraded the forest. Some animals roamed free because it was dinner time. Hunting was crucial for their survival. There are no better times to snatch a snack. In this world, it is easy to tell a prey. The one that drifts to unfamiliar territory and dies wears the tag.

After the men had gathered at the shore, they took a body count. No soul was missing. They set off in a file into the forest behind their leader, Mukande, a wicked dwarf, whom they feared like a god. They looked in every direction to make sure that nobody followed them. In a treacherous world, you cannot trust the night. Out of its belly are issues of death. There were a few stars in the bare chest of the sky. They gave light near the moon. When darkness treads the sun’s old path, going further would be a risky choice. A man is for himself, but God is for us all.

The forest was old, and the stench of treachery hung in the air. Fruit bats made the forest their own and her fruits their restaurant. The human presence did not hinder the bats from moving from one tree to another to find food.

The old feet of the pirates tormented the earth and crushed the leaves under their boots. There were dead woods and limbs here and there. The trees were in their rows, separated by inches and yards.

The pirates were eager to get to their hideout in the cave and did not know that interlopers lie in wait. Oza hunters were waiting for a chance to unleash terror on any wanderer. Some old forests have always been a battlefield. In the jungle, the strong thrive on the shadow of the weak. The intruders were Oza hunters from the hinterland who occasionally venture south of the waters.

After covering a suitable distance, they struck. As expected of people who emerged victorious after a long struggle. On the way to their hideout, the men were chanting and brandishing their weapons. An interloper attacked a man from the back and dragged him into the forest. Because of the disturbance, the move went unnoticed. Before the victim could raise an alarm, the hunter had buried a blade into his neck. As he lay struggling for life, the attacker grabbed his battle-axe and exerted a mighty heave to zap off his head. The body of the pirate

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rested on the bare chest of the earth as his head rolled to the edge of the bush path. The hunter collected all that was on the severed man. His rings, beads and all his belongings were in his pockets. The hunter flashed a menacing smile at the severed body. He looked to every side to make sure that no eye was watching. He faded into the waiting hands of the forest.

As the gang journeyed against all odds, the hunters attacked again. One of them took cover behind an old baobab tree. He fell on the traveler who was trailing his cohorts. He was struggling to catch up with the quick feet of his cohorts because he was tired. The hard day’s work was taking its toll. You can’t cheat nature. At some point, even the tough will show signs of weakness. This was not the right time to be weak. The night was pregnant with evil intentions. The men who are on their trail are ready to kill, steal, and destroy. They are ready to use the darkness to their advantage. The poor soul was tired because they had toiled all day. Under normal circumstances, they should have rested by the shores for the night. Spend the night under the watchful eyes of the evening. And continue the journey to the cave at daybreak. This wasn’t the case. Mukande seemed to have led his men into a trap.

The hunter and the pirate had a fair struggle. He tried to pin him to the ground. The pirate fought back with his battle-axe. But the blow that he dispensed was a bit late. The hunter had already driven his sword into his chest. He elicited an agonized cry that drew the attention of his cohorts. They paused and glanced at the direction. One after another, they ran to the corner. Before they ever got close, the hunter ran into the nearby bush. The trees covered his tracks. But his victim surrendered to the incoming blackness. He was in a heap on the floor. Blood covered his body. His destiny cut short. This was only the beginning of sorrow.

The pirates rushed to the scene, flashing their torchlight and wielding their weapons. They checked the man. He was like a headless chicken. One pirate flashed his light about. A strange mask on a tree attracted him. The pirate walked to the tree to have a closer look to find out what type of mask it was. Then he plucked the mask from where it hung; he flipped it back and forth. He tried to think and figure out its source. As he inspected the mask, a large man emerged behind the tree and drove a spear into his body. The pirate yelled up to the high heaven and fought back with his axe. He missed his aim. He staggered. The large hunter stabbed him by the side again and fled.

Before the attacker could take cover, his pair of legs betrayed him. He stumbled on a log of wood and fell to the ground. He tried to regain his footing and run. Arrows from another pirate hit him on the back. He elicited an agonized cry and fell to his knees. But as they rushed to vent their anger at him for killing one of them, the creature drew his knife and aimed for his own neck. He fell on his face to the ground. He gasped and choked until the last of life left him.

They rushed to his corner. They stood over him and looked at his lifeless body. “He’s a hunter from Oza!” Moadab said and spat on him.

“What is an Oza hunter doing here? They hardly go beyond the other side of the forest,” said Salis. He frowned and looked about.

“Where does that leave us?” Moadab raised his eyes in the direction of Mukande.

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“Trouble,” Mukande stepped forward. “We have a big problem in our hands, Moadab. This is not good. The hunters are tracking us,” Mukande disclosed. He blinked his eyes almost a million times.

“Who are they?” a man asked the dwarf. “What are they?”

“They are dark spirits. They have mastered the dark arts. It is said that they can strike with the intensity of a black mamba,” Mukande told his men.

“Hmm… that’s impressive,” Salis noted.

“Of course. It is Salis. It did not surprise me they picked our men like grains and we did not sense any danger.”

“It is the dark arts,” said Salis. “It makes gods out of ordinary men!”

“The jungle is not for ordinary men. It is for us,” Moadab raised his eyes in the direction of Salis. He scratched his head and let go a yawn that took some time to mix with the air. “They can’t stop us.”

Mukande cocked his head. “We can hold our own, no doubt. But tread carefully if you don’t want to stop swallowing,” he cautioned. The fierce balls that sat on the socket of his skull traveled round the trees and back to his men. “Salis and Moadab will protect the treasures. The rest of you will make sure they are safe. You must fight as if your life is in your mouth. If you do not resist this storm, we may never make it out of here alive! The Oza hunters are no mere men. Legends say they are sons of a dark spirit that once roamed the earth. Yet, they bleed like us and draw breath from the wings of the morning. Spare no one. Make them pay for the departed!” He clenched his fist. “We must make it out of here alive. Is that clear?”

The pirates nodded in agreement. They grabbed their weapons with iron grip and continued their journey. Not long after, five or more arrows flew out of the woods. The arrows hit their targets. Some fell stone dead. Others sustained various degrees of injury. It was an invitation to fight. Because it was pitch darkness, the pirates could not see their adversary. The forest was old. It was hard to see beyond the nose. Mukande and his men had to run. The dwarf started off, and the others followed. They ran fast through the forest to avoid getting killed.

The pirates tasted misfortune as their meal for that day. What they thought was the best way to avoid death was only the highway to hell. As they ran, they stumbled on some hunters waiting on the other side of the forest. It was sad to see Mukande and his men struggling to contain the interlopers. The hunters fell on them and they fought from one end of the forest to another. It was a long night. Tragedy and despair roamed freely. It was sudden. It was hot. As the walls of an old building crack, giving no notice, Mukande and his men went into the battle unprepared.

The horror of death stared them in the face. Those who escaped the frenzied attack of spears and arrows fell by the sword and axe of the hunters. Many lay struggling for life like

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primitives that fell stone dead at the blast of muskets. The battered bodies of the pirates littered the floor. Hidden behind the tall trees, the hunters had the advantage. They grabbed the opportunity with both hands and wreaked havoc.

But, the hunters also suffered loss. Some pirates wiggled their way out of the commotion. Mukande, Captain Salis, Moadab were among them. As the battle raged, they fled down the road. The hunters chanted victory songs and brandished their weapons before they gave chase. They chased them down to kill them. At intervals, arrows pierced the darkness and robbed the soul of his life.

As they flee from the nightmare, Mukande and his men run to a swamp. Some territorial crocodiles had taken refuge. But the night hindered them from seeing the danger ahead. The three or more pirates who waded through the swamp to the other side fell into the mouth of the crocodiles. They drowned and died.

Mukande, Captain Salis and the others coming from behind did not make the same mistake. They took a bend by the swamp and fled to the other side. As the hunters approached the swamp, they faded from the chase. Soon, they faded into the forest. No longer hearing the crashing of boots, they were happy. Heaven heard their supplication. They looked back to see if the devils were still on the chase. It was impossible to see beyond the tall trees. The trees acted as shields of danger. The trees exposed them to danger. Trying to keep their pace, they dashed into their cave and secured it. Every man chose his corner. What had started as victory was now a nightmare.

Men scattered about on the floor, groaning as the horror tormented the camp. The few that were not injured made fire and offered treatment to those that were casualties. Mukande suffered a deep cut on his shoulder, and was languishing in a corner near the fire. Those they felt would survive received treatment. They killed others whom they felt had little or no chance of survival and threw their bodies out of the camp. Salis and Moadab only suffered bruises and were in good company. It was a long night. Uncertainties spread about the camp. Their safety was no longer guaranteed. The group has never come under such an attack. After surviving the raging storm, now they face the proper test. It’s hard to say what will happen next. They are in the middle of a storm.

As the dust settled, and the pirates were under the spell of sleep, the cruel hands of hell crept into the camp! Captain Salis was yet to put the day behind him when he heard footsteps lurking in the dark. He sat up and glanced about. The fire that lit up the room made it difficult for Salis to see beyond his nose. His cohorts were fast asleep. Some were snoring hard, like a steam engine going through deplorable roads. Moadab was beside him with the sack of treasure. Not long after, the shadow of a man appeared on the wall. It drew a knife and sneak on silent feet through the room. The captain’s heart jumped into his mouth as he alerted Moadab. They sat up and watched from their corner. Their gaze followed the creature to a distance until it faded from sight. They were yet to find out the next step to take when a loud cry from the other side of the room hit the air. Someone had stabbed one of the pirate. There was a commotion.

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Almost everyone jumped out of sleep to see what must have caused the disturbance. The Oza hunters had invaded the camp, and unleashed terror. The pirates woke up to face the reality of death staring them in the face. They picked up their weapons and a bloody battle started in the cave. The men shared blows from one end of the camp to another. At every turn, a man dropped dead and never rose again.

Moadab grabbed the treasure, Salis was by his side, and they sneaked out of the bloody mess. Holding a torch, they found their way through a passage. There they had only giant spiders and scorpions as adversaries to contend with. Salis and Moadab crushed the insects with their boots and fled the scene. They went past four or more bends. And flinging glance back at intervals to make sure that no one was in the chase. The cruel hands of fate kissed Moadab. Captain Salis drew his dagger. He pounced and drove it into Moadab’s neck. The strike was enough to send his friend to the silent world. Salis flashed a menacing smile at the lifeless body of his friend. He searched Moadab and found a gold pendant, which he placed in his pocket. As the noise of an angry mob approached him, Salis feared that they were on their trail. He suspected the Oza hunters. Outnumbered, outflanked, he was certain he would meet a sad end, too. Salis gathered himself. Then he grabbed his dagger with an iron grip and slammed the sack of precious stones onto his back. He ran into the quiet night.

Captain Salis found his way to a little opening on the wall. Down there was a raft on the river that flowed to the other side of the region. As the captain pondered what to do, the mob approached. He knew they were coming for him and there was no way he would survive if he didn't act fast. He only has a dagger for defense. There was no sense putting his poor soul in harm’s way when he could escape and be rich for the rest of his life. To be free, he needs to dive into the river. And the rest would be history. Salis was never afraid of heights. So this was a mere formality. It was a calculated attempt. It was a risk worth taking. Then he took his chance. Down there at the other side of the riverbank, there were two men near a fire, roasting a fish. There were members of the Oza hunters. They have taken up positions everywhere in anticipation that someone could try to use the river to escape. Their job is to cut off any attack from his end. Or kill whoever tries to flee the cave through the river. They had weapons and were eating when Salis dived into the water.

The movement in the water alarmed the hunters. They glanced at the water. As the water settled down, one of them rose to his feet. He grabbed his musket and his torch and went to see what must have caused the disorder. Immediately he got to the edge of the river, the hunter flashed his torch about and found nothing. Then he went for a piss. After relieving his bowels and adjusting his belt, Salis emerged from under the water. He pounced and wrestled the hunter to the ground. They had a fair struggle before several blows that fell on his neck overwhelmed the hunter. He fought against the incoming blackness but could not prevail. He bade the world farewell.

After waiting for some time, his cohort did not return to his side to continue the dinner. The other hunter became agitated. The man grabbed his gun and torchlight. He rose to his feet and went in search of his friend. He called his name as darkness stared him in the face, but there was no answer. The man seemed to fear for the worse as he moved to the corner that he had last saw his friend. It was pitch darkness and there was little that he could do with his torchlight. As

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