When the two travelers met, it was the dan-Ifeti who spoke first.
“Greetings, young sir,” he said pleasantly. “I am Ewuebe dan-Ifeti, and I am bound for the great market at Gobar to purchase some fine adinkra cloth.”
The younger man returned the greeting courteously.
“I am Akuntali dan-Kanou,” he said. “I am bound for Yauri, where I have heard there is a good market for the cloth I bear.”
“And the nature of your cloth?” Ewuebe inquired.
“Adinkra,” Akuntali replied.
What followed was not surprising. Having given the names of their respective cities and ascertained that diplomatic relations between the two were normal, the two rogues proceeded to bargain. After a lengthy period of haggling, Akuntali finally agreed to sell his bale of cloth for one of Ewuebe’s baskets of cowries. After the trade was completed, the wayfarers parted amicably, each chuckling secretly at the gullibility of the other.
After having traveled only a short distance, Ewuebe pulled his duku to the side of the Road and unwrapped his newly acquired bale of blue cloth. To his consternation and dismay, he quickly discovered that even though the wrapping was indeed adinkra, the cloth inside was not. It was only cleverly disguised bark-cloth, which could be found in any rural village.
For several moments, the dan-Ifeti vociferously berated his own uncustomary credulity. Looking up at its master, the duku opened its large mouth, revealing teeth that were formidable weapons, though much smaller than the tusks of its huge river cousins. But the braying roar that issued from that red cavern was not at all menacing. Instead, it sounded very much like human laughter.
Then Ewuebe also began to chuckle. Knowing what the cowrie shells he had used to purchase the false adinkra really were, he had no doubt that the dan-Kano would shortly be coming this way again. He tossed a kola nut into the duku’s gaping mouth and settled down for what promised to be a short wait.
In the meantime, Akuntali had begun to notice something peculiar about the load of cowries he was carrying. Namely, it was growing progressively heavier. In fact, it was now far heavier than any load of cowries that size had a right to be. Puzzled, he unslung the basket and lowered it to the ground to examine its contents. And he was shocked to discover that instead of cowries, the basket was filled with rocks.
Akuntali cursed his stupidity both to himself and to Kwaku Anansi. Fooled like an idiot by the wiles of a sorcerer! Then again, he should have expected such chicanery from a dan-Ifeti. Only now did Akuntali recall that Ewuebe’s duku had been laboring with a difficulty unusual for a load as light as cowrie shells.
Hand closed menacingly on the hilt of his sword, the young dan-Kanou turned and retraced his route in heated pursuit of Ewuebe. Though he knew he could not cut the dan-Ifeti’s throat on the Road of Peace, sooner or later, Ewuebe would have to leave the Road ...
Only a short time passed before Akuntali reached Ewuebe. He was surprised to find the older man waiting for him ... waiting rather leisurely, as a matter of fact. Sitting on the high stone curb of the Road, Ewuebe was abstractedly chewing kola nuts, while his duku was happily joining a herd of cattle munching grass in the meadow beyond.
“Well, it certainly didn’t take you long to get here,” Ewuebe said affably.
Akuntali wanted to kill him then and there. But a half-naked herd-boy was tending the cattle, and would surely betray him to the Road Council. Instead, Akuntali unleashed a tirade of choice expletives, ending with: “You, dan-Ifeti, are a scoundrel!”
“And you, dan-Kanou, are another,” Ewuebe retorted.
Abruptly, Akuntali remembered the disguised bark-cloth. His heavy-lipped mouth dropped open, but no words came out.
“It seems that our respective swindles have backfired,” Ewuebe continued.
The only thing left for Akuntali to do was to burst into laughter – in which he was enthusiastically joined by Ewuebe.
“Have a seat, my friend,” Ewuebe gasped when the laughter was done. “And have some kola nuts. I have a feeling there is much for us to discuss, you and I.”
SPEAKING MORE – IF not completely – truthfully this time, the two rogues learned much of interest about each other.
Akuntali was a man who, in only twenty-odd rains, had fought in five major wars for his home kingdom of Kanou: two against archrival Katsinu, and one each against Gobar, Kwahu and Zazzan. Tiring of risking his life for political conflicts that were traditional to his kingdom but meaningless to him, Akuntali decided to give up military life and live by his wits. Thus far, he had not achieved noteworthy success at his new vocation.
Ewuebe, on the other hand, had been a life-long sorcerer, trained since childhood for the first of the two major professions of Ifeti, the other being bronze-casting. He had, so he said, achieved only middling proficiency in his profession, boasting moderate skills in the arts of illusion-casting and potion-mixing. Such modest attainments proved insufficient to earn an adequate living in Ifeti, so Ewuebe had become a wanderer, plying both sorcery and thievery up and down the teeming West Coast.
As Ewuebe finished his tale, the duku waddled over to them and opened its great, wide mouth. Ewuebe accommodated by tossing a handful of kolas into the yawning red cave.
“Still like the kolas, don’t you, Ikuu?” Ewuebe commented jovially.
To Akuntali’s astonishment, the beast nodded its head in what could only be agreement.
Now, this was rather extraordinary behavior for a duku, a creature whose appetite was far more impressive than its intellect. Noticing Akuntali’s curiosity, Ewuebe was quick to explain.
“Ikuu is the brother of
