“No, you naked eater of cattle-dung!” Zuburi growled. “But where does this man come from? Why is –”
“Silence!”
All the mouths of the Three-Faced One spoke simultaneously in a deafening roar. Tuatat stepped backward; Zuburi flinched. Only Imaro remained steadfast.
“This one will be of no more consequence than the others,” Itu-Nusani Mujo declared. “Begone – both of you.”
With as much dignity as they could muster, Zuburi and Tuatat made their way back to the lines of their tribes.
Then the Shinda began.
* * *
Imaro closed quickly with his foe. Earlier, he had listened to Yahyi’s account of previous contests, as Guguk remained unconscious in the grip of the illness Tiba’s magic had inflicted. Imaro had listened respectfully ... but he would battle Itu-Nusani Mujo in his own way, not that of the Nubala.
The combatants grappled, hand seeking purchase on bare skin. Itu-Nusani Mujo underestimated the strength of its smaller opponent, and Imaro was able to force the Jijiwi Champion to take a step backward ... then two ... then three.
Gasps rode from both the Jijiwi and the Nubala, for no other Nubala champion had been able to make Itu-Nusani Mujo retreat more than a single step. Now, the man-like entity was actually giving ground.
Then Itu-Nusani Mujo stopped moving backward. Planting its feet firmly, it lifted Imaro from the ground, and tossed the warrior as though he were a child. With jarring impact, Imaro landed several feet away. The Nubala groaned as their Champion lay inert.
Immediately, Imaro sprang to his feet. He showed no sign of any injury from the force of his fall. The Naglopa ceased their expressions of dismay. But their confidence in Imaro’s ability to defeat Itu-Nusani Mujo was beginning to fray.
Again, the Champions closed on each other. Imaro exhibited none of the caution that might have been expected after his first exposure to the Three-Faced One’s might. Instead, the warrior bent at the waist, wrapped both arms around one of Itu-Nusani Mujo’s thighs, and jammed his shoulder into the abdomen of his foe.
Unexpectedly thrown off-balance, Itu-Nusani Mujo tottered a moment, then fell to the ground with a thunderous crash. Imaro released his grip, sprang backward, and moved beyond the reach of the Three-Faced One’s flailing limbs.
Both the Jijiwi and the Nubala stared in stunned silence as Itu-Nusani Mujo clambered awkwardly to its feet. Both sides were well aware that Itu-Nusani Mujo had never before been thrown. Renewed hope kindled among the Nubala, while the Jijiwi experienced their first gnawing of doubt.
The central face of the entity glared at Imaro, who calmly awaited his adversary’s next move. The other two faces turned, to the greatest extent possible, to scowl at him as well.
“Am I still of ‘no consequence,’ Three-Faced One?” the warrior asked.
The eyes of all three of the entity’s faces blazed in a brilliant shade of scarlet as Itu-Nusani Mujo’s muscles suddenly swelled to twice their already-impressive size. All three mouths opened wide and issued a collective roar louder than that of any lion. Nubala and Jijiwi alike clapped their hands to their ears to lessen that awful sound. Imaro’s hands remained at his sides.
Still bellowing in wordless rage, Itu-Nusani Mujo charged toward Imaro. The entity spread its arms wide to forestall any avenue of escape. But Imaro made no attempt to evade his attacker.
At the moment a collision appeared inevitable, Imaro ducked beneath the right arm of Itu-Nusani Mujo, then stepped nimbly to the side of the onrushing entity. When Itu-Nusani Mujo passed him, Imaro leaped onto his foe’s broad back. He locked his legs around Itu-Nusani Mujo’s waist. Then Imaro’s fingers reached for the neck of the Three-Faced One.
In the meantime, pandemonium erupted among the spectators on both sides.
“What is he doing?” was the most common outcry.
“This is wrong!” more than a few Jijiwi shouted.
“How can the outlander throw Jijiwi by climbing onto his back?” Yahyi demanded of no one in particular.
But Imaro had no intention of attempting to throw Itu-Nusani Mujo a second time. The grip of his legs held his body firmly in place as Itu-Nusani Mujo twisted and spun in ferocious attempts to dislodge him. The teeth on the faces at the sides of the entity’s head gnashed perilously close to the warrior’s forearms as his fingers probed for what he had seen during his first grapple with his foe.
It was what he had hoped to see ... something that would make the battle less difficult, even though it was already one of the deadliest he had fought since the time of the Naama War.
There ... he found it! A crack between the neck and jaw-line of the Three-Faced One ... the opening Imaro needed.
He wormed his fingers into the gap, pushing it further open. Then he hooked them into an iron grasp, and the muscles in his arms coiled as he pulled upward with all his preternatural strength.
Itu-Nusani Mujo stood stock-still for a moment, before all three mouths opened like caverns, with a single word erupting from three throats:
“Noooooo!”
As the outcry echoed, Itu-Nusani Mujo hurled itself backward, hoping to crush Imaro beneath the entity’s greater bulk. Breath whooshed from Imaro’s lungs and his head cracked painfully against the ground. But he did not lose his grip, and the gap between Itu-Nusani Mujo’s jaw and neck continued to grow.
Now Itu-Nusani Mujo rolled in one direction, then another, scattering Nubala and Jijiwi as it strove desperately to dislodge its tormenter. But the Three-Faced One’s efforts were to no avail, as Imaro clung resolutely. And the gap widened with a cracking sound, accompanied by a keening wail from Itu-Nusani Mujo. No longer did the entity’s voices cry out in chorus; they bellowed separately in distress and desperation.
Slowly, Itu-Nusani Mujo’s struggles waned. Its outcries dwindled to whispers. Imaro, in contrast, redoubled his effort. It was as though he were attempting to rip Itu-Nusani Mujo’s head
