CHAPTER TWO

Splash ! of water. Several horses clutter across the river crossing in pursuit of dying dark order, ambushing the attention of Christine. Flames of fire danced backwards from the pressure of the wind. Her muscle and tussle become restless. Her euphoria was incarnated by anxiety. She was bewildered by the actions to take. If it too runs where to? On the west stood a labyrinth that connected the whole village. If it to climb the tree she was incapable due to its slipperiness and flimsy branches. The tress served as are ethic of beauty to the serene. Full red flowers that wafted their inventible scent for anything that clanged to the atmosphere around it. This was the first flower gifted to her by Adrian.

Christine was sure of the Mark Slater’s soldiers convulsing capability due to the extended hand of order. As they draw closer to her, pallid complexion entangled her light complexion face. It was an appealing duty to any male to notice at her young age. She could not hold it any longer. The fierce convoy of the soldiers spread like fangs of snakes. On its touch to something, it dries.

“Was it wrong to follow my desire? No.” She question herself. A vivid picture of her and Adrian as they always sat under the shade of the tree exhilarated by their love. In romanticism, they were the love birds after Romeo and Juliet. Christine would always hold him by his waist as she laid her bosom on his chest and raised her head at an angle of fixed degrees. A white eyes with black spots at the centre and always immobile. They swallowed each other's tongues as their heart delved to nourish their satisfaction. Adrian was a despot for her. His hand on a shoulder and the other on her thighs. They seemed in their world. They felt themselves on a beach. Only papyrus reeds annoyed their beach ambience and at some point, Adrian hurt himself as he carried his caricature along the reeds.

The neigh of a horse caught the attention of other soldiers who passed by Christine. The horse almost hit her but on sense, it braked by holding its speed, standing on it behind, two legs and trying to swerve back. The soldier fell off and got immersed in the water. Christine hastily holds up the papyrus reed around the bank and vigorously slides into the water. Her skirt due to speed, bulged from the voluminous water making it float and leaving her bear under the water. The drama scene would be watched by the fish. Regarding a fish living under the water, it knows a lot of things. The soldiers' hysteria confines the attention to the lost soldier. They raised their ram stick a lot. The wavy flames contorted their shadows as they walked around the river bank.

The drowned soldier becomes buoyant ."There he is !" One of the soldiers shouted. "The red waters swallowed the sparrow's life!" Another commented as he draw closer to where Christine was. Sparrow raises his hand to affirm his last struggle on earth. Christine exchanges her right hand to left, clinging onto the papyrus reeds and completely immersed herself in the water holding her breath. Not even sure how long should she muster the air inside her. The skirt was pushed up by the water making loosen at her waist and ruffed out of her body. The speed of the skirt down the stream was between the velocity of the water and the thrust.

Two soldiers, jump into the water, to help sparrow out. The splash of the water, induces another momentum in the skirt, making it stuck in one of the soldier's garments. Duck in, duck out. The skirt covers his face. This makes him lose his buoyancy. A little struggle under the water manages to unseal the harbinger. On the surface of the water, he raises it. “save him !” Soldier who seemed highly ranked agitated fiercely.

It has been several movements of stitches of a clock now Christine could barely control body movement. The breath she held harassed her patience. She could not hold it any longer. A little push by her legs didn’t successfully manage to lift her above the water. She became heavy every second that counted. A sting from a scorpion on her toe makes her scream. The sound could not pierce through plenty of water. This made her release the reeds and sunk the bottom of the river and gave her last thrust upwards. Irritability harnessed her body. Brave ! she makes it to the surface of the water, panting and gasping for air. Her eyes were as red as haemoglobin. Blinks severally as she cleared her face with her hands in a close way. Having drenched a lot of water the water impedes her clear visibility. The water danced around her neck.

Having regained back a breath, she retched. At a stone's throw, She could see the soldiers surrounding Sparrows. One pressing his chest rhythmically. All they did was a futile resuscitation.

"The skirt..." one soldier tried to initiate the attention of the skirt but the superior ranked officer commanded "Go! Go! Go! find her! " The commotion of the soldiers as they ran to climb their horses initiated. The soldier in the skirt remained a lot looking gloomy. He looked at the skirt and then Sparrow. He was in a two-way despair situation. He placed the skirt near Sparrow and gave a false smile and remarked, "You too and you will be missed.”

“Jack!” The superior officer reverberated.

“Yes sir!”

“You want to join him?”

"No –ye…''Jack says as he runs to his horse. The convoy propelled to the village.

Christine clenched her teeth together. She was in deep agony of pain. The poison had spread through the veins to almost every part of her body. She pulls herself out of the water relieved of the captivity of Mark Slater's soldiers. The cold made her tumble as she lay hopelessly on the leafy grasses on the bank of the river. The pain left her exasperated.

Her body becomes numb. With a little effort, she manages to slither to the horse. Sparrow's horse revolved around his master who had buried a hatchet between him and the unknown world.

The shrilling and screaming of the people in the land of Ura pierced the ambience. This astonished Christine. “Was it a desire I followed or being driven by unknown forces? Or am I a spirit myself?” She thought. The ambush befell the land of Ura. It seemed even louder to Christine as if they retreated. Sparrow horse just laid herself near Christine as a sign of help. Resonating with it she struggles to climb on it. It was her first ride on a horse. “It's with pleasure for your extended hand of help.” She whispered as she tightly clutched onto it. The horse remains unconcerned and the undisturbed. Rattling of horses' wattles draws closer and close again. "How do I make it wake up?" Christine questioned impatiently. She sunk her teeth in its skin making it jump and start to race. Christine bounced severally on her stomach. The hit accelerated both pain of the scorpion sting and that from a hit. It was unbearable now. The horse chooses to follow the soldiers' route. "Oh no! Just spare me!” she said rubbing the horse. The horse changes and goes back to cross the river. Christine enters the Mark Slater's land for the first time since birth. The land was wealthy and promising.

Sometimes in life, nothing happens by chance. It reaches a point where you are being driven by unknown powers. Christine was superstitious. Though desires have consequences. A haunting desire needs a sacrifice for it to be fueled successfully. It just draws somebody into a field of responsibility.

A grotesque sight capsized the land of Ura. Huts were being consumed by a lake of fire men and women lay help in great pain and agony. Mutated hands, limbs and heads threw the area into a catastrophe. Swords sliced through their stomach exposing an orifice. Blood spurted in different ways. The path and homestead were covered by a pool of blood that viciously flowed into the Thagana waters. Stiff dimensions were enacted by men in the land Ura but the cruel and ruthlessness of Mark Slater's soldiers tamed their efforts.

“Where is Laura?” The leader of the soldiers questioned as his horse banged the flimsy logs across the gate of Njenga's homestead. The logs could not restrain the force induced onto them. It raptured and spread into two, ushering in the Mark Slater's soldiers surrounding the homestead. They set it ablaze. Wails descended faintly. Every second that counted their mission became arduous to solve. The red hot charcoal and amber sparks as they reduced huts into ashes deemed their mission. In Njenga's homestead, it appeared none was interested in their activities. Nobody rebelled or contorted back. It seemed iganjo. This even left them with insatiable answers to give back to Mark Slater