DANUSHIKI

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mhonse soon forgot about the initial exhaustion she felt from walking, while enjoying the food, but was jealous of the fact that Harshiri was a better cook than herself.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Darjer returned, looking in the direction of the oil lamp, with a look of satisfaction at its present level of brightness. He waited patiently for Choshi and his daughter to finish eating while he conferred with his wife in whispers. After Gohryo and Makiya had cleared the calabash bowls, he waited until he was sure they were inside before he spoke.

“We all know the customs and traditions of Shaingwa,” Darjer began, while trying to avoid the faces of Mhonse and Harshiri who had begun to eye each other.

 “Since it has been ‘confirmed’ that my son put your daughter in the family way, it behoves on us to propose something, anything with regards to our daughter here… Harshiri, whether you like it or not Sarme is now your daughter, and you have to treat her like Gohryo and Makiya.”

 When Choshi whispered to Mhonse if she had anything to say, she simply shook her head and quietly hissed in Harshiri’s direction.

“I didn’t come here only because of the pregnancy my daughter is carrying,” Choshi began. “After all, we family heads all have our small chambers that always tell us what we want to know about any knotty problem, and where we can go to inquire the truth about anything at any time. I came here for you to tell me how Sarme would be taken care of, and the provision to be made for the coming baby until the baby is born and weaned.” Choshi said with an air of finality.

He spoke this way because he knew the advantage he had over Darjer: his soft-heartedness towards any matter concerning pregnancy and motherhood, despite his fearful reputation in his warrior hey-days.

“Is it okay if she stays with us in the meantime?” Darjer asked his wife who had since kept quiet.

“It all depends on you,” she said slowly, “whether she stays here or with her parents doesn’t matter, what matters are the expenses.”

Darjer turned sharply to Choshi and Sarme and said with a smile, “Since it’s her third month, there’s no problem if she stays with us… she’d be like a family member to us, and when the pregnancy is due, we’d arrange for the Simowa women to attend to her. He paused to get Choshi’s approval, which he gave with a nod, after which Darjer continued.

“I want to know as Danushiki’s father, what is going to happen, should your daughter give birth to a boy or girl…”

Choshi gave a quick smile before he stood up and adjusted the woven cloth that covered his body.

“It’s getting very late my friend, and it’s also time for you and your family to rest. Try to forget about trivial things like the s*x of your unborn grandchild, since we’ve arrived at a conclusion concerning the main issue at hand.”

He beckoned on his daughter to get up, and while she obeyed almost immediately, he made a humorous statement: “my daughter is tall and your son is also tall. I hope when the baby is born, it won’t be of average height like me?”

 Even Mhonse managed a smile, as she went outside with her daughter. Choshi waited for his wife and daughter to go outside, before he walked over to Darjer for a quick tete-a-tete.

“Everyone is conversant with the customs and traditions of Shaingwa relating to matters like this. Whether she gives birth to a boy or girl is no problem, because the baby will still belong to Danushhiki. I feel we should concern ourselves with more interesting things like the name it’d be christened with in the near future. The next moment he went outside, held his daughter’s right hand and bid Darjer goodnight, before the three of them walked back home.

Bolting the door after they’d gone, Darjer heaved a sigh of relief and looked at his wife who didn’t seem bothered by what had just happened.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said to her, while picking up the oil lamp and calling at his two daughters. She looked at him, hesitated, then and hurriedly went inside the bedroom, before her husband could give her any more ‘orders.’ He walked until he reached the entrance of his bedroom, stopped and looked in the direction of his personal chamber, raised the oil lamp to his face and put it out.

The next day Harshiri was at her best as she transformed her son’s room to one fit for a Shaingwan Princess. She instructed Gohryo and Makiya to see and treat Sarme not just like an aunty, but like their sister. 

Mhonse on her part proceeded to lecture Sarme on the nitty-gritty of what entailed a typical Shaingwan ‘marriage,’ and how to abide by the several customs governing it. She spoke to her about the issue of dressing, and informed her that she would have to graduate from wearing clothes which exposed her tummy and thighs downward, as Shaingwan custom demanded, to a large piece of woven cloth which would conceal her cleavage down to her ankles…

Looking at Sarme’s buttocks later, she added, “You’ll have to loosen it a bit when you advance in your pregnancy, so you’d be comfortable.”

Mhonse was the kind of woman who believed nobody could care for her children better than herself. This was why she made up her mind to pay her daughter a visit at least once every fortnight to see how things were with her. Six days after both families met, Sarme came to stay permanently in Darjer’s house. Although she felt coy at first, Gohryo and Makiya made her feel at home, and spent evenings telling her about their elder brother’s escapades and secrets.

Although she felt it necessary to put on a show for her son’s sake, she also knew that it was only an insane individual who doubted or challenged the veracity of any prophecy made by the gods and goddesses of Shaingwa. Secretly, she had hoped for more grandchildren as women of her age spent countless hours bragging over the number of grandchildren they had, while at the main market, the stalls and at age group meetings.

As the days dragged on, Sarme paid less concern to the rapid changes around her body, and only thought of Danushiki. Being in his room felt wonderful, but if the main occupant was present in it, the better, she thought. Most times, she felt he could just appear in the room, and be with her, even though it was only for a minute, it would fill her heart with joy. She hoped after three years, he’ll still remember how to kiss her the way she wanted. As far as she was concerned, she’d forgotten everything about kissing and desperately wanted to a ‘revision’.

It didn’t take long for Harshiri to accept Sarme as her daughter. This was due to her diligent and dutiful nature which her own two daughters were still battling to possess. Harshiri believed that even though Sarme could be bad-tempered, or aggressive in nature, the two former traits took care of all that. She had bo doubt inher mind that her son had made an excellent choice. Several nights later, Gohryo and Makiya confided in their mother on how they usually heard Sarme talking in her sleep, and saying things like: “I love you Danushiki,”

“I’m all yours Danushiki,”

“Let’s consummate our love inside the sacred grove,”

“I’ll rather die than love another…”

Surprisingly, when Harshiri asked her about it the next morning whether she remembered saying anything while she slept, she always said she couldn’t remember. With every day that passed, Harshiri thought of her son and the s*x of the unborn baby. There seemed to be a special bond between Harshiri and her son, ever since she gave birth to him. She couldn’t wait for him to complete his training and initiation in Cobra Land, so she could welcome him with open arms and tears of joy. Afterwards, she’d then show him the baby which had been born by Sarme for him.

Seasons came and went, the farmers, hunters, fishermen, artisans and other inhabitants of Shaingwa thought less of the recruits in Cobra Land, with each passing day. Only the fairly aged ones among them knew what it really meant for a young man to spend three uninterrupted years of his life in an ‘unknown jungle.’ He had to metamorphose into a man while adhering to strict rules and regulations at the same time on a daily basis.

Danushiki saw his three years come to an end like three days; it’d been three years of intense physical training, boxing, jogging, running, lifting heavy objects, press-ups, hand to hand combat techniques and training on the usage of his battle-axe. At the end of the three agonizing years, he had only his battle-axe to fight with. Someday, he knew it was going to end up in his small personal chamber, in his own house, alongside other ‘necessary’ spiritual objects. It was forty eight hours to the end of their three years in Cobra Land, as the recruits whispered excitedly among them. Nobody had seen Karugo for a while, as most of them prayed for the time to go quickly, so they could be released from the hideous jungle where they’d spent almost three years.

Danushiki sat down to examine his triceps, and was surprised at how hard they’d become. From his arms to his torso, followed by his legs, he felt them and admired his physique. They were expected after almost three years of… He sighed at the sight of a slithering king cobra, a few metres away and shook his head. His mind went back to the strange ‘meeting’ he’d had that fateful night at the mysterious waterfall. For almost three years, he’d told no one, but kept it to himself. The sight of those creatures scared him, but also reminded him of Sarme’s beauty, aura, and her…lips. The next day a lone instructor led them to a very large pit full of woven apparels for men, and instructed them to pick one each and wear them over their ‘skirts.’ Danushiki examined the garments.

They were red in colour, fitting and were to be worn by each person, wrapping it around the torso, and tightening it around the neck.

Some were ‘modified’ to accommodate several daggers and specified weapons to be used by the recruits, who were now addressed as warriors by their instructors. Danushiki’s red apparel was without any modification or design, but he made sure after wearing it, that his necklace was atop the part of the apparel fastened around his neck. Thereafter, they assembled in front of a large statue of a king cobra. Each warrior held his weapon(s) firmly and prayed for strength, guidance and fearlessness in any battle they’d ever engage in. The prayers and meditation went into the evening, until an instructor appeared and instructed them to retire to their respective huts.

While walking back to his hut with the cool evening breeze blowing around him, he began to wonder what awaited him and the other warriors when they eventually got home. It was then he remembered the prophecy inside the sacred grove that fateful day, when he’d gone with his father. He had no idea why the gods and goddesses chose him to lead the warriors, and why the voice from the large steel pot had not been more detailed. He was not in a hurry to arrive at his mud hut, because he knew that with one look at the walls, all his thoughts would begin to revolve around Sarme, whether he liked it or not.

Lost in deep thought, he didn’t realize he was entering the hut, he moment he accidentally tripped over a bowl of fruits ‘placed’ in the center of his hut.