The Legend of Hombarume (Legends Series, #1)

1.

The full moon shone and the villagers basked in its majestic glory. It illuminated every crevice, allowing the fireflies a well-deserved rest. The soft wind howled away through the night and swayed the trees while the children danced and sang their merry hearts away. Peace and harmony's reign in Chief Banga's village would soon enough be thwarted by a terrible scourge brought about by the spirit of vengeance.

Hombarume perched himself on the rock at the edge of his hut after he lay down his latest kill. He had always been a formidable hunter but his skills fast improved. What made the perfect hunt was a heightened patience and assertiveness that most village men were yet to acquire. He would conceal himself in the thick brush for the stretch of the day, steady his breathing and wait for the perfect moment, what he called death's beckoning. The time when his prey would have to face its inevitable fate and for sure, he wasn't one to miss.

The precision of his arrow was coveted and his reputation unprecedented. Exhaustion wasn't foreign to him; his hunts drained the energy out of him and rendered him lifeless when he returned to his homestead. He was only just brushing into adulthood but he had already made his parents prouder than most. As he rested his head and marvelled at what he had achieved, his consciousness slipped away and he was plunged into a deep sleep.

'Chimukai ka, nhai Shumba? You sleep like the dead.'

Hombarume was awoken by the sound of his mother tearing through the remnants of his drowsiness. She stood in front him with a basket she was yet to put down, waiting for him to get up from his mat. The hunter was still a bit disoriented and he had a hard time remembering how he had found himself in the hut on this warm morning.

He tried to remember past coming from his hunt and celebrating his victory but his mind failed him completely. He finally got out, still fumbling through his mind for a plausible reason for his missing memory and met his father, VaMurambwi sitting under the Muzhanje tree whose crown was decorating the compound.

'Don't pester him so much, my wife. Valiant men like him deserve all the rest they can get. That is what makes him the warrior of the forest that he is.'

Hombarume's father was a strong man even when unwanted aging was creeping up on him. He was proud of his son for taking after him and becoming the successor that he had always felt he deserved.

Hombarume celebrated his latest triumph with his family, discussing everything that had happened in the last few days, all up to the previous night, a night that he still didn't remember at all.

'None of that would happen if you brought a young, beautiful woman home, Mhukahuru.'

They had just left the compound and had started down the path that led to the heart of the village and cut through the stream along the way. The path was still deserted this early in the morning, save for a few people who desired to fetch water before the stream was heavily populated.

'And what would she do nhai Amai?' Hombarume asked his mother while wrestling with a thorn bush to clear his way.

VaMurambwi eyed his wife and they chuckled in unison.

'A young maiden brings you joy for the night but a good woman, she will make you happy even in the afterlife, my son,' his father said.

They finally arrived at the hive of village activity, the market where Hombarume's mother sold dried meat and vegetables to make an honest living. Different voices and murmurs, low and high filled the atmosphere as market sellers were already setting up for another fruitful day. Some reared chickens and goats for sale and others specialized in maize, pumpkins and groundnuts. Charm sellers were also popular at the market and the villagers would spend every cowrie to solve their problems, so long as there was something that met the need. Hombarume's mother was already consumed in chatter with a few of her mates and her son had run into one of his friends, Ushe, leaving his father to roam around the market aimlessly.