The Ancestors of Aduwura slept beneath charred, smoking stumps. Never again would they be disturbed; never again would they be brought to eldritch life.
And silently, Odomankoma accepted his due.
THE SILENT GHOSTS
A SONG INSPIRED THIS novelette – “Pirate Jenny,” as performed by the late, legendary Nina Simone. The song told the story of a chambermaid toiling in a “crummy hotel,” sullenly enduring her condescending bosses’ admonitions to “earn your keep here.” The maid, who’s “counting their heads as she’s making the beds,” ultimately gains vengeance in spectacular fashion. Although the plot and characters of “The Silent Ghosts” do not much parallel those of “Pirate Jenny,” the way Simone sang the song planted the seed for this tale, which draws more on my imagination than any specific African legends or folktales. It first appeared in Space and Time in 1982.
The broad Zaikumbe River flowed slow and sluggish, as if stupefied by the heat of the Nyumbani sun. Narrow, muddy banks flanked the murky brown stream. Huge trees with twisted roots lined the banks like votaries at the temple of a river-god. Other than the occasional splash of bright-scaled fish at the river’s surface, silence hung like an unseen shroud over the Zaikumbe.
Along the banks, the only other signs of life were large butterflies and a small antelope that darted from the trees to drink furtively at the river. After a parsimonious sip or two, the antelope returned to the trees as if fearful to linger at the river ...
A peal of child-like laughter broke the silence of the Zaikumbe. From the trees lining the north bank, a young woman emerged, tugging at a golden chain attached to something still hidden between thick, twisted boles.
Zuriye was not much older than sixteen rains. Her ebony skin shone with perspiration; her only garments were a tightly wrapped turban of silver cloth and gossamer trousers loosely caressing her long legs. Rows of silver bracelets clinked along both arms, and silver-colored paint coated her lips, eyelids and the tips of her bare breasts.
With a final, determined tug, Zuriye hauled the creature on the other end of the chain from its hiding-place. Frightened, the animal scurried to the side of its mistress, who now knelt with one hand outstretched. Approximately the size of a small dog, the young woman’s pet was a chevrotain: a deer-like creature with tiny, cloven hoofs, a hunched, russet-haired body speckled with white, and tiny fangs protruding from its delicately pointed snout.
“Do not be frightened, Siki,” Zuriye soothed as a mischievous smile curved her full lips. “Bambullah will be so angry with me for straying this far straying this far from the encampment! He will never harm you, though, Siki. He knows I love you. I will protect you ... from the butterflies that float so dangerously above this river!”
Neither soft words nor light stroking reassured the chevrotain. Its senses, dimmed though they were through domestication, detected ophidian eyes staring from a tree-branch hanging low over their heads ...
The snake coiled tautly on the branch, its dark-brown scales and octagonal markings identifying it as a jaculi. More venomous than a mamba or spitting cobra, the jaculi waited silently, no telltale rattle or hisses betraying its presence.
The wedge-shaped head moved minutely, aiming at the precise center of Zuriye’s back. Its muscles tensed for the strike. At the moment its serpent brain decided was correct, the jaculi uncoiled with the speed and force of an arrow shot from a strong warrior’s bow.
Perhaps it was the slight scrape of the jaculi’s scales along the bark of the branch that alerted Zuriye of the danger that had been clear to the chevrotain. She whirled, preventing the jaculi from striking her on the back. Still, it fastened its fangs into the flesh of her arm, just above the silver bracelets.
Gasping in sudden pain, Zuriye stared wide-eyed at the snake fastened to her arm. Then she reached inside the sash at her waist, pulled out a razor-sharp jambiya dagger, and slashed at the jaculi. Half the serpent’s body dropped writhing onto the riverbank. But the head remained attached to Zuriye’s arm, pumping deadly poison into her bloodstream.
In frantic haste, Zuriye dropped her jambiya and tore the head of the serpent from her flesh. Colorless, lethal liquid dripped from broken fangs as the severed halves looped spasmodically in the mire. Then the venom began to reap its toll on Zuriye. She staggered dizzily as the poison burned strength from her slender limbs.
While Zuriye tottered, Siki flailed wildly in a panic-stricken attempt to break free from its chain, which had become entangled in a nearby root. The chevrotain squealed louder than seemed possible, given its size.
Zuriye fell heavily onto the riverbank. Already, the twin punctures left by the jaculi’s fangs were swelling grayishly against her dark skin. Still, Zuriye summoned sufficient strength to drag herself toward her pet. Hands trembling, she unfastened the chain from the jewelled collar that encircled the neck of the chevrotain.
“Bambullah ... bring Bambullah, Siki,” she whispered.
As the terrified creature streaked into the forest, Zuriye faded into unconsciousness. The jaculi’s poison continued its course through her bloodstream as inexorably as the mud of the riverbank seeped through her translucent trousers.
Even the slight tremor caused by Zuriye’s impact with the riverbank reached the haunts of the crocodiles that dwelled in the Zaikumbe. Sensing food, the great reptiles swarmed from their subsurface caves and swam toward the bank.
Before they reached the surface, the shadow of a monster even the crocodiles feared rose from the depths beneath them. It was a nsanga, a reptile twice the size of the largest crocodile. As the nsanga swam into view, the crocodiles scattered to safer waters.
Majestically, the nsanga’s blunt, iguana-like head broke the surface. Sighting the human form lying on the riverbank, the gigantic saurian swam leisurely toward it. Then the creature sensed another disturbance in the water – a disturbance drawing rapidly nearer. Ignoring the new presence – it knew no fear, having no natural enemies – the nsanga
