Following his brief flirtation with decisiveness, Okosene had reverted to his usual state of semi-lethargy. His thoughts alternated between amusement at what he imagined to be the expression on Nwankwo’s face when the kungurus-kansusu turned Ajema into a monkey, and speculation as to what his fourth wish would be.
Okosene was painfully aware that his two previous wishes had been used unwisely. No one could have faulted him for his first one, which saved him from the leopard. Still, the nature of his requests had been determined impulsively. This time, he vowed, he would ask the guinea-fowl to materialize a dream that would serve him well for the rest of his life. But ... which one? He had so many fantasies to fulfill ...
Okosene was still trying to come to a decision when the soldiers, finally desperate enough to search the least-likely hiding-place, burst through the flimsy entrance-screen. Feeling foolish because their long search had just been rendered superfluous, and recalling Nwankwo’s charge to bring Okosene back in any condition as long as he was alive, the soldiers attacked the befuddled dan-Zamfara before he could move.
“Damned sorcerer!” they raged as a storm of fists, spear-butts, feet, and sword-hilts crashed against Okosene’s head and body.
Just before the blows began to land, Okosene cried: “I wish I were gone from here!”
Too late, he remembered that the guinea-fowl had warned him that his wishes could only be granted in the bird’s presence ...
IT WAS A BATTERED, bedraggled Okosene that the soldiers finally dragged into Nwankwo’s throne chamber. By then, the obufin had gathered his decorum and clothing, and dismissed his fawning wives. Now, he fixed Okosene with an ominous glare. The deep wound on Nwankwo’s lip lent his countenance a demonic aspect that boded ill for Okosene’s future.
“So, Alakun the Daydreamer is a sorcerer in disguise,” Nwankwo sneered. “Who knows what misfortunes you have been responsible for over the years, posing as an utterly useless idler. Well, this is one piece of trickery you won’t get away with! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll bring Ajema back – in her proper form – now!”
Okosene could only moan and shake his head. Even if he had wanted to, he could not have spoken with his swollen jaw. And if he could have spoken, he would not, for he would rather have died than reveal the secret of the kungurus-kansusu, and lose his final wish.
“All right, then,” Nwankwo said as the silence stretched. “In the morning, you will die as an example for anyone else who contemplates the use of sorcery against me. How does being torn between a pair of pack-elephants sound to you?”
A groan was Okosene’s only reply.
“You, soldiers,” Nwankwo commanded. “Take this piece of hyena-dung and put him in the prison-house. No, better still – throw him behind it. Just make sure he stays tied up.”
Wordlessly, the soldiers dragged Okosene away.
SECURELY BOUND, OKOSENE lay motionless on the dank ground, the shadow of the prison-house blocking the moonlight. The soldiers had beaten him again before departing. They did not deign to leave even a single guard behind. If Okosene really were a sorcerer, they reasoned, he was a powerless one now.
A sudden, sharp pain on his nose jerked Okosene out of oblivion. His eyes blinked open – then snapped shut again. The wrinkled, simian visage he had just seen could not have been real ...
Again, pain stabbed into his nose. Okosene let out a yelp and opened his eyes. The monkey was still there, sitting on its haunches and glaring balefully at him. Reflected moonlight shone in its eyes. Okosene recognized the look the beast was giving him. He had endured it countless times before – from Ajema.
Abruptly, the monkey scampered beyond Okosene’s line of vision. Then he felt small, hand-like paws working at the ropes on his wrists and ankles, pulling at the knots that held his bonds together. At first, they held fast. Then they began to loosen under the monkey’s persistent pulling and biting. Several times, Okosene winced as sharp teeth occasionally sank into flesh rather than rope. Finally, the last cord fell away, and he was free.
Or, at least, he was no longer bound. As Okosene stretched his aching limbs, the monkey bit at his toes. Okosene was well aware of the reason for the creature’s impatience. But he was loath to venture into the bush at night – not even to find the guinea-fowl.
When, however, the infernal simian’s teeth snapped scant inches from a valued and vulnerable portion of his anatomy, Okosene scrambled to his feet. For all the agony that shot through his abused muscles and joints, the dan-Zamfara moved with alacrity – or, at least, faster than he had ever moved before.
“All right!” he whispered as the monkey nipped mercilessly at his heels. “Just follow me, and I’ll lead you to the kungurus-kansusu.”
Chittering low in its throat, the monkey jumped onto Okosene’s shoulder and clung to a fold of his tattered garment. The beast’s teeth were poised close to Okosene’s left earlobe. Sighing sorrowfully, the dan-Zamfaru made his way toward the outer edge of the forest, making certain that none of the night watch who guarded the sleeping townspeople caught sight of him.
OF HIS GROPING, STUMBLING journey through the darkened bush, Okosene remembered little. On one occasion, he was sure he heard the growl of a hunting leopard. On another, he could have sworn he’d seen a ghost hovering between two trees. But each time Okosene faltered, his companion bit and chattered, driving him onward.
At last, they reached the tree of the kungurus-kansusu. Okosene stared up at the bird-spirit that had promised him so much. Suddenly, he wished he had slit the guinea-fowl’s throat when he’d had the chance. He knew his last wish must be expended on the monkey ... to
