Forest of the Pygmies(45)
At no moment during that incredible journey were Nadia and Alexander afraid. At first it seemed to them that they were floating in the nebula of a dream, and they felt a profound calm. As their spiritual pilgrimage expanded their senses and imagination, tranquility gave way to euphoria, uncontainable joy, a sensation of tremendous energy and force.
The moon continued its course across the firmament and disappeared among the treetops. For a few minutes, the luminescence of the ghosts lingered as the buzzing sound and the cold gradually diminished. The two friends awakened from their trance and were once again sitting among the tombs, with Borobá clinging to Nadia's waist. For a while neither spoke, or even moved, prolonging the enchantment. Finally they looked at each other, dazed, doubting what they had lived through, but then before them emerged the figure of Queen Nana-Asante, who confirmed that it had not been a hallucination.
The queen was illuminated from within, resplendent. Nadia and Alexander saw her as she was and not in the guise in which she had at first appeared: a miserable old woman, pure bones and rags. In truth she was formidable, an Amazon, an ancient goddess of the forest. Nana-Asante had grown wise during those years of meditation and solitude among the dead. She had cleansed her heart of hatred and greed; she wanted nothing, she feared nothing… nothing disturbed her tranquility. She was brave because she did not cling to life; she was strong because she was motivated by compassion; she was just because she intuited truth; she was invincible because she was supported by a legion of spirits.
"There is great suffering in Ngoubé. During your reign there was peace. The Bantus and the Pygmies remember those times. Come with us, Nana-Asante. Help us," Nadia pleaded.
The queen replied without hesitation, "Let us go." It was as if she had been preparing for this moment for years.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Reign of Terror
DURING THE TWO DAYS NADIA and Alexander spent in the forest, a series of dramatic events was developing in the village of Ngoubé. Kate, Angie, Brother Fernando, and Joel had not seen Kosongo again and had had to deal with Mbembelé, who by anyone's judgment was much more to be feared than the king. When he learned of the disappearance of two of his prisoners, the commandant had focused more on punishing his guards for having let them get away than on the fate of the missing young people. He made no effort to find them, and when Kate asked for help in searching for them, he refused.
"They're dead by now; I'm not going to waste time on them. No one survives at night in the jungle—except the Pygmies, who aren't human," Mbembelé told her.
"Then send some of the Pygmies with me to look for them," Kate demanded.
It was Mbembelé's custom not to respond to questions, much less requests, with the result that no one dared pose them. The brazen attitude of this foreign woman amazed more than angered him; he couldn't believe he was witnessing such insolence. He stood there without speaking, observing her from behind his sinister mirrored glasses, as sweat ran down his shaved head and the naked arms marked by ritual scars. They were in his "office," where he had had his guards bring the writer.
Mbembelé's office was in the jail, furnished with a pair of chairs and a rickety metal desk in one corner. Horrified, Kate took note of the torture instruments and dark bloodlike stains on the whitewashed clay walls. There was no question that the commandant's purpose in having her brought there was to intimidate her, and he had succeeded, but Kate was determined not to show weakness. She had nothing but an American passport and her journalist's credentials to protect her, but they would be worthless if Mbembelé perceived how frightened she was.
It seemed to her that Mbembelé, unlike King Kosongo, had not swallowed the story that they had come to Ngoubé to interview the king. He undoubtedly suspected that the real cause of their presence there was to discover the fate of the disappeared missionaries. Now they were in Mbembelé's power, but he would have to calculate the risks before he unleashed his cruelty. He couldn't mistreat foreigners, Kate reasoned with excessive optimism. It was one thing to abuse the poor devils he held in his fist in Ngoubé, but something very different to harass white Americans. He did not want to invite an investigation by authorities. The commandant would have to get rid of them as quickly as possible; if they learned too much, he would be left no alternative but to kill them. He knew that they wouldn't leave without Nadia and Alexander, and that complicated things. Kate concluded that they would have to proceed very cautiously, because the commandant's best card would be for his guests to suffer a well-planned accident. It never occurred to Kate that at least one of them was looked upon favorably in Ngoubé.
After a long pause, Mbembelé asked, "What is the name of that other woman in your group?"
"Angie. Angie Ninderera. She flew us here in her plane, but—"
"His Majesty, King Kosongo, is willing to accept her as one of his wives."
Kate felt her knees buckle. Yesterday's joke was now a disagreeable—perhaps dangerous—reality. What would Angie say about having caught Kosongo's eye? Nadia and Alexander should be showing up soon, according to her grandson's note. On their previous trips, too, she had gone through some desperate moments because of those kids, and both times they had come back safe and sound. She had to trust them. The first thing would be to get the whole group back together; then they would figure out some way to get back to civilization. It occurred to her that the king's sudden interest in Angie could at least help win a little time.