The Narrator
Two days passed by, and Michael prepared to venture out to the location given by the anonymous caller, who had troubled Michael heavily with the evidence he had. Evidence that could easily be the desolation of his family. Threatened by the caller, he was warned not to inform any of his men; this meant that this journey was his alone. Ayer could not know about this; this was because, due to his duty as the high servant, he was obligated to protect the king even if it meant going against the king's orders.
Though he could not directly tell Ayer about the situation, he could, however, make him aware of his whereabouts should anything happen to him. Ayer, as the high servant, cedes to him the title of general, the vice commander of the King's men, and all his arsenal. In the absence of the king, he has the authority to lead the king's men to search for the king should he be considered missing.
The day before his departure, Michael, in his secret hideout, addresses Ayer about his venture.
¡Ayer! Please come here; it is urgent, Michael calls Ayer. "Sire? Ye have summoned thee," he responds. Tell me, Ayer, as a high servant to the King, is there a command you would dare disobey? "Disobedience in our world means execution, Sire! Therefore, a master must rule and a servant must serve; this creates order and balance in our hierarchy. Any transgression or defiance in the sight of the gods is equal to death."
I see, and if I were to command you not to act on something that would compromise my safety, would you obey?
Ayer remains in silence for a while and then finally says, "I'm afraid I could not, Your Eminence, only because the law (lex) of our world prohibits me. Should I obey thee and ye die, then the gods and the organization would have my head for transgressing our sacred law, as I yield to you and you to Caesar, so we all to the law."
I see, so we all are bound like cattle to this law. Michael replies, "Yes, indeed, my king," Ayer replied.
Ours is a cruel world existing without any freedom; our fates are determined by those above us. Like cattle, they chain us and bind us to harsh realities. You just wonder what the difference is between us and the liberated other than puny titles.
"The liberated are consecrated soldiers, made to obey at the sound of their masters without wavering; if commanded, they would kill even their own kin. Their 'will' lies only with their masters; there is no personhood beneath them; they are nothing but weapons of war," Ayer explains to him.
Well, that's not how I see it. When I gaze upon them, I see nothing but my kinsmen. So many things we share in common—we all are servants to one master, and our master's chain binds all of us. Michael says as Ayer stands staring at him, surprised at the words he spoke, for no man in his sight has ever spoken so favorably about the liberated.
Anyway, the real reason why I called you here was not to mob over our insufferable lives but rather to tell you about my business trip to KZN (KwaZulu-Natal) this weekend. It's a two- to three-day trip, and I will be meeting a powerful individual concerning our hotels. As you know, we haven't made much progress in that city; our greatest flaw is time, and we need to change that.
In my absence I need you here, observant and vigilant. I need you to watch over Lucia and make sure she's taken care of till we find a permanent solution for her and, of course, watch over our family.
"Your word is absolute, my king; I shall do as I am tasked. I shall also prepare at least two men for your departure."
There is no need Ayer I will be just fine alone. Michael replies. "Alone? Why alone, my king?" Ayer says, surprised, with his face already widely disapproving. Well, because I desire it, and besides, I want some time alone.
"My king, I fully understand your decision; however, we must consider and prioritize your safety. We cannot be certain that nothing will happen to you in that pit hole, and we also must consider Scorpion's last words."
Michael chuckles and says, Durban isn't a pit. Ayer and about Scorpion's words, don't you think if he had brothers who would look to avenge him, then they would be in this city? Or nearby?
"Well, it's plausible, but the problem lies in only that we don't know where exactly he originated from."
My point exactly. Michael says. "Your Majesty, you're not…." Enough! Ayer I will do as I wish, Michael interrupts Ayer, dismissing him entirely. "Very well, your eminence, as you wish," Ayer replies, fully disapproving.
Now that I have addressed you, I want to go home. Ready yourself, and let us head home. I'm sure the lady of the house is expecting us to pop up for dinner any minute, and you know how furious she gets when we miss dinner.
"We ought to be quick, Sire, before we are scolded more than last time. Last time we were scolded so heavily I wished we could travel back in time in order to arrive early," Ayer says, making Michael laugh.
They both went home.
The time was 19:35, and Michael and Ayer were not yet home. Nicolas sat at the dinner table, consistently looking at the clock. Both Michael and Ayer were late for dinner. If there's one thing Madelyn hated, it was both of them being late or anyone being late for dinner. Nicolas sat there smiling, for he knew that Michael was about to get scolded. Nothing made Nicolas happier than seeing his elder brother scolded by their mother, Madelyn.
He said to himself, 'Oh, you are dead for sure, brother; you and your phlegmatic self won't withstand this. Mother will burn you alive, and I'm going to love it'.
The main door opens. Michael and Ayer quickly rush to the dining room. "So nice for you to join us at this time and hour," Madelyn says. "Mother, before you shout at us, please understand that we were stuck in traffic; we did all we could to avoid it," Michael replies. You know how I feel about arriving late," she replies. "I will try by all means to make sure it does not happen again, ma'am," says Michael. "You're forgiven, but never again. Now sit and dish up; you must be starving."
Nicolas stares in disbelief; this was not the reaction he wanted and expected to see. 'What is this?' he said to himself. 'So no disciplinary action taken against him? No blasting, nothing? I swear this has to be favoritism, because all hell would freeze if I were forgiven free of charge'.
Oh, lovely. My favorite brother has arrived. Jordyn says, sparking a reaction to Nicolas. "Excuse me, you have two brothers, both are your favorite," Nicolas replies. Oh, really? Clearly I wasn't aware that Mother has a 3rd boy child that I didn't know about, she replies. "Oh, that's funny; you know how happy I would have been if I had a little brother. Sadly, reality is often too disappointing," Nicolas says, causing a reaction from Jordyn.
Yeah, reality is disappointing. I mean, reality gave us you, so yeah, we understand your sentiment. Jordyn replies. "Okay, you know what? I'm going to say it, just going to let it out. Jordyn, you are adopted. There, I've said it." After hearing this, Jordyn laughs sarcastically. Really, that's all you got? I'm adopted? I mean, it's funny because the only misfit in this family is you, loser, she replies.
"At least I'm a loser who's not adopted. I mean, that oversized forehead clearly isn't from this family; it's a rare feature nowhere to be seen in our ancestry. I'm sure you've seen that."
Oh wow! Clearly you've not been acquainted with that hideous face of yours. I mean, you would blend in with the apes in Congo, but come to think of it, that face would probably scare them. It's a miracle we eat dinner with you without throwing up at our table.
"Enough, please! We've had enough. Madelyn replies, "God! You guys should've outgrown this instant bickering between the two of you by now. Are you still children?"
Michael at that moment had his hand covering his eyes, laughing at what was said.
"Mother, I have grown, matured, and upgraded. My problem is when children start acting out of hand, I just have to discipline them," Nicolas says. Jordyn laughs. Wow, nowadays children want to be adults so bad, she says. "You are also a child! And you are also adopted, and Michael is adopted," Madelyn said. "Aw, Mother, I'm also adopted," Michael questions Madelyn with a sad voice, pretending to sad, this causes everyone to laugh. "I think I'm also adopted, madam," says Ayer. At that moment they all burst out with laughter.
After a while, still at the dinner table
Michael decides to address his family about his departure to KZN. He says, "I have something to tell you guys: I'm going to KZN, specifically Durban, for a meeting with a very important client, a potential partner in constructing our own building. As you guys know, we are on the verge of expanding our hotels in different provinces across the country before we go worldwide.
And how long will you be gone? Madelyn questions him, "Ah, two days, ma'am," he replies. Okay, so long as you will be safe, his mother replies. Upon hearing those words, Ayer was fretful.
After telling his family about his departure the next morning, Michael caught a flight going straight to the City of Durban in KZN. Upon his arrival at King Shaka International Airport, an anonymous message appeared, sending a location. The location was pointing at a place away from the city, to a village side near the mountains. A minute after opening the location, a message pops up in his notification bar again from the anonymous number. This time a text message saying 'Find me at 6pm.' Michael then decided to go and prepare at a hotel called the Sun Hotels.
Michael arrived in Durban at 10 am, which meant he had 8 hours to prepare before the meet-up. Considering how tired he was from a dreadful day of work the previous day, he decided to sleep for a few hours. He rose up at 1 pm; before doing anything, he checked his phone for updates, realizing there were none other than Madelyn and Jordyn wishing him a safe journey to Durban.
Other than his family, Michael had no friends to call or to fill his DMs, no woman to call his own; all he had was the people he had sworn to protect. Often he would see the necessity of not having friends; having too many people he cared about meant compromising him. Sometimes he would wonder if maybe it was just simply his inability to actually converse with people; perhaps he had detached himself from the outside world so that connecting with people was challenging for him.
After checking his phone Michael decided to prepare for the big meetup; he began by taking a shower. After showering, he dressed for the occasion. Michael may not have his mighty men among him, but he sure wasn't going to meet this individual unarmed.
As he prepared, he decided to wear a bulletproof vest and wore a black t-shirt and grey trousers. Upon coming to Durban, Michael had called a bank and made arrangements with his personal bank concerning the 3 million rand demanded by the anonymous caller. He then went straight to the bank. After two hours, Michael returned to his apartment.
It was 15:49, a bit early for the exchange, but Michael saw that it would be wise for him to arrive early so that he would be able to explore the place that his foe was sending him; perhaps exploring the place would give him some sort of leverage or allow him to conjure a strategy to use against his foe.
At 16:15 he took his pistol and placed it at his backside, with it being held by his trousers. He also took a readjustable knife, putting it on his left leg, which was held by his socks. He then took his phone and ordered an Uber. He then left the hotel with a large black bag carrying the 3 million rand.
The Uber arrived, and they went straight to the location. An hour passed, and Michael arrived at his destination, a mountainous place. It was at least mountainous from a far distance; the slopes were plain and gentle enough for people to build houses, with hills here and there.
The location had pointed Michael to the top of a hill; following the location he saw, he climbed it. Upon arriving at the very top, he beheld a beautiful sight: the sun was minutes away from setting at the horizon, and at its departure, it struck the land with its sun rays, making the scenery pleasant to behold. He went further to the edge of the hill, and he saw a beautiful scenic river beneath. From where Michael stood, it looked quite deep and vast.
"Such majestic landscapes," he said to himself. "If only it were under better circumstances, he would fully enjoy it all." After standing for a while, the sun had set, and the entire place was covered in darkness. Michael saw three vehicles approaching where he stood. These vehicles looked like 4x4 vans, he said to himself as he gazed at them, yet he could not fully see as the sunlight had disappeared. The vehicles stopped as their lights were beaming and fixed on Michael.
Before he knew it, the doors opened, and each vehicle held at least four to five men. As they came out, each of them carried heavy machine weaponry and ammunition, such as AK-47s. Michael estimated void of sight. Thinking their numbers and firepower would frighten Michael, instead he stood there unbothered and nonchalantly unimpressed.
Michael yelled, saying, "You honor me, bringing me to such glorious places. At first I was skeptical, but I must say I'm glad I took the risk, for I would've not seen such majesty."
I assumed that you would like it; I figured it's a sight befitting a king's gaze. A brown-skinned, bearded African man with a huge belly approaches from the men facing Michael. He was at least 5'8 in height. "Well, I must say I didn't expect an entire squadron facing me tonight; I assumed it would be just us two," Michael responded.
Squadron? Hah! These few lads? No, they are just here to escort me, that's all, nothing more. Michael has a small laugh and replies, "And I thought that they were all here for me should I slightly become belligerent. Good thing that I'm not troublesome, however. Let's proceed with that which led us out here, shall we?"
Of course, let us begin, the man replied. "As our deal required, 3 million to the very last cent," Michael says, grabbing his bag off the ground and pointing it towards the man's direction.
The man approached Michael, attempting to take the bag out of his hand, but just after having a hold on it, Michael tightened his hold on the bag. This shocked the man. He then looked at Michael and said, Problem?
To which Michael replied, "How will I know that you will hold your end of the bargain?"
The man laughs, replying, My king, do you not trust me? Michael did not reply, though his lips did not utter a thing, his face spoke many words; his gaze towards the man was unsettling—it was as though he was staring at a thief.
Okay, okay, the man said, seeing that Michael was unsettled. I understand why you would not trust me; you don't know me after all. I suppose I should introduce myself to make you feel at ease. My name is Zweli Mthembu. I am a taxi owner. I own the largest taxi operation in these valleys; all the taxis that drive through this place are mine. I am also a businessman owning plenty of businesses. In these valleys I am a giant; my shadow stretches so far and vast, covering the entire place. In other words, it is my territory, Zweli said to Michael.
This confuses Michael. If he was indeed the man he's claiming to be, why then would he want money out of him?
"If you are indeed what you say you are, then why do you need money from me?" Well, you know how greedy us businesspeople get when we begin making a lot of money; every opportunity we seize without any hesitation. It's pretty much the same thing here; I could not pass on free money.
What Zweli said left a bad taste in Michael's mouth and made him angrier. "I see. Final question: How do you know Scorpion?"
Who? Zweli asked him.
"The man who told you everything about me and about my world," and what makes you think someone told me anything? "It's the only applicable reason; how else would you know?"
Zweli laughs at his response. You know, Michael, only one tribe occupies these prodigious mountains; there's one culture coursing in every household. You see, we Zulus are people rooted and indoctrinated by one teaching alone: 'The love and preservation of one's family name.' Before we became a nation, our forefathers segregated themselves into clans and fought greatly to protect all that they had from invading clans.
From those times till now, our family name has remained sacred to us. Our bond and our love for our families run so deeply that we refuse to cut ties with our fallen brethren. To keep our ties unsevered, we connect with them by means of necromancy. As a result of refusing to cut ties with them, our fallen continue the fight to preserve our family on the other side; this is our identity. "Why are you telling me this?" Michael replied, confused.
As he heard Michael's question, his forehead creased, and his demeanor changed from pleasant to resentful, all in the blink of an eye. He remained quiet and finally replied, The bitterest pain a man could ever feel is losing his brethren by someone's hands and not being able to bury him so that he finds his way to our ancestors.
Michael remains ever more in confusion: 'Why is he telling me this?' He asked himself, 'Why should I care about his culture? Unless he's trying to communicate something to me' And like lightning, it struck Michael that perhaps he's enraged by actions Michael committed to his brother or relative. One name rang all over Michael's head, one individual he remembers vividly, a face of a man his mind had not yet forgotten.
"Wait, Scorpion is your…brother?" Michael said to him. Though it was dark, the light beams behind him enabled Michael to see Zweli's face entirely. Just after asking him if he was Scorpion's brother, Michael could see Zweli's eyes watery as they were turning red. He knew the answer before he spoke it.
His name was Fanele Mthembu, my brother! Do not disdain his memory by calling him by that nonsensical, pathetic name!
The sheer agony in Zweli's voice stripped Michael with guilt, the guilt weighing so heavy as a prodigious stone lodged at his back; for a few seconds suddenly the reasons for being monstrous towards Scorpion did not justify his actions. In fact, in that moment Michael felt empathy towards Zweli, for he is a child among siblings; he could not imagine how deeply broken he would be if he lost Nicolas or Jordyn.
"Listen, I did what I had to do; your brother was set to sabotage all that I had fought for in preserving my family," Michael attempted to explain to him.
I don't care about your worthless family. I couldn't give a damn about their lives; it's my brother's life that I cared about, Zweli replied with anger.
"Sadly, my family is not worthless to me; if your brother knew that, then he might still be alive." Zweli looks at Michael, surprised that even when surrounded, he has not lost his grit. You surprise me, King Michael. Zweli said even when surrounded, you do not quiver.
"Well, these lot don't scare me; the only danger they pose are the weapons they carry."
What I'm going to do to you tonight, I will surely enjoy. Zweli turned his back, facing his men, and he shouted in Zulu, saying, "Men, draw out your weapons towards this foolish man!" The men did as he asked; all guns were pointed at Michael.
"This doesn't have to end this way; if you choose to let me go, I will pardon you, but if you so choose to retaliate here and now, then rest assured knowing that I will rain hell on you and your remaining family," Michael said, cautioning him.
Let's see that happening. Zweli said, taking a few steps back to his men, Now Michael still held his bag full of 3 million rand. Zweli lifted his hand up towards the sky, indicating that his men should shoot. The men shot at Michael, and as an instinctive reflex, he grabbed his bag with both hands, covering his face and upper body, and as bullets were flying at him, Michael ran to the edge of the hill, and he jumped, descending to the river.