Black Leopard, Red Wolf

And like this Sadogo the Ogo talked through the night. Through our stopping and tying off the horses to a tree. Through us building a fire, and cooking porridge, and losing the star that pointed us west, through trying to sleep, failing to sleep, listening for lions moving through the night, waiting for the fire to burn out, and finally falling into the kind of sleep where he spoke through dreams. I could not tell if it was the sun or his voice that woke me up. Fumeli fell asleep. Bibi, lying beside me, was awake and frowning. The Ogo’s voice went lower, with silence eating off the end of his lines.

“From now on I shall be quiet,” he said.

I stared at him for a long time. Bibi laughed and went off in the bush to piss. I rolled myself to a sit and yawned.

“No, please go on, good Ogo. Sadogo. I will have your words. You make a long trip short. You know Nyka?”

His glare was worth it. “I met him a moon before I met you,” he said.

“And he gives you gossip of other people already.”

“When the slaver came to me, both Nyka and Nsaka Ne Vampi rode with him.”

“This is indeed news. What did he say of me?”

“The slaver?”

“No, Nyka.”

“That you can trust the Tracker with your life, if he thinks you have honor.”

“That is what he said?”

“Is it false?”

“I am not the person to answer that.”

“Why is it not? I have never lied but I see that to lie may have purpose.”

“And betrayal? Does betrayal have a purpose other than what it is?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“No worry. It is dead, the thought.”

“This one was in the cart too,” he said, pointing to Bibi walking back.

We saddled the horses and set off. I turned to Bibi. “Tell me this. Your master lied to us about the boy. The truth is he has no stake in the child. But he has much in pleasing Bunshi.

“He is worried by the silence of the gods,” Bibi said. “He thinks he’s displeased them when the gods’ silence has fallen on every house.”

“He should worry more about the silence of all the slaves plotting against him,” I said.

“Ha, Tracker, I saw your face. Few days ago. Much enjoyment I got from it, your disgust. I think you are too hard on the noble trade.”

“What?”

“Tracker, or whatever your name is. Were it not for slaves, every man from the East would be a virgin at marriage. I met one once, this is a true word. He thought woman bred child by sticking her breasts into a man’s mouth. Were it not for slaves, good Malakal would be left with nothing but false gold, and cheap salt. I justify it not. But I do know why it is here.”

“So you approve of the ways of your master,” I said.

“I approve of the coin he gives me to feed my children. From the look of you I know you have none. But yes, I stuff his face because every other work he gives to slaves.”

“Is he who you wish to be? When you are a man?”

“Unlike the bitch boy I am now? Here is more truth. If my master as you call him were any more dumb I would have to prune and water him three times a quartermoon,” Bibi said, and chuckled.

“Then leave.”

“Leave? Just like that. Speak to me of this Leopard. What kind of man, with such ease, walks away as he pleases?”

“One who belongs to no one.”

“Or no one belongs to you.”

“Nobody loves no one,” I said.

“The son of a bitch who taught you that hates you. So, as my master would say, tell me true, tell me plain, tell me quick. Is it you with the boy behind me, or the spotted one?”

“Why does every mis-bred soul ask me about this mis-bred boy?”

“Because the cat isn’t talking. The other servers of the King—they are slaves, mind you—were all casting bets. Who is the rod, who is the staff, and who takes it up the shithole.”

I laughed. “What did you guess?” I asked.

“Well, since you are the one they both hate, they say you are being fucked by both.”

I laughed again. “And you?”

“You don’t walk like someone who gets fucked often up the ass,” he said.

“Maybe you don’t know me.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t fucked in the ass. I said you weren’t fucked often.”

I turned and stared at him. He stared at me. I laughed first. Then we couldn’t stop laughing. Then Fumeli said something about not sticking the horse hard enough and we both nearly fell off our horses.

Except for Sogolon, Bibi looked the oldest among us. Certainly the only one so far to mention children. It made me think of the mingi children of the Sangoma who we left with the Gangatom to raise. The Leopard was to give me word of what has happened to them since, but has not.

“How did you come by that sword?” I asked.

“This?” Bibi withdrew it. “I told you, from a mountain man east who made the mistake of going west.”

“Mountain men never go west. Let us speak true, date feeder.”

He laughed. “How old are you in years? Twenty, seven and one?”

“Twenty and five. Do I look so old?”

“I would guess older but did not want to be rude to so new a friend.” He smiled. “I have been twenty twice. And five more years.”

“Fuck the gods. I have never known men to live that long who were not rich, or powerful, or just fat. That means you were old enough to see the last war.”

“I was old enough to fight in it.”