Unicorn Tracks (15 page)

As we rode down the path, I could hear the dissenting murmur of conversation growing louder behind us. My father’s eyes remained in front, and he seemed not to notice the way a few of his warriors traded glances as we rode past the Pits. Fury bubbled in my chest, and I remembered once again why I had followed Tumelo and left the only home I’d ever known behind. What Obasi did had broken me, but it was the town—these men—who finally drove me away.

“What’s wrong?” Kara asked. She didn’t bother to whisper, but I doubted any of the warriors spoke her language anyway.

I ground my teeth and looked toward the Pits. “It’s like they all blame me. I mean, I know that everybody accepts it was Obasi’s fault… but still, whenever I come here, it’s like people keep expecting me to forgive him. Because he was a paragon. Because he wasn’t a bad person, before. Because he was their friend. They don’t understand that it’s not about them, and it never has been. It’s one of the reasons I don’t come home anymore.”

Even though he couldn’t understand the language, my father understood the anger in my tone. He turned in his saddle, pulled his horse up, and rode next to me. Following the direction of my gaze, he squeezed my arm and said gruffly, “I know what you’re saying, Mnemba, and how you feel. And I know that before you left home, I didn’t try to understand. Now I wish I had listened better about how some of the people here made you feel. Until Obasi takes his life, and he will, there are always going to be people who wish it was different. People hold out hope that the past can be healed. But the weight of this doesn’t have to rest on you anymore. Know that if in a moment of weakness, you give in and that animal ever claws his way out of the earth, I will be standing there to gut him.”

Emotion made me speechless. Silence fell behind us. I chanced a look back. The men who had been whispering stared at my father with gaping mouths. A few of the other warriors bore a smile that surprised me.

The man nearest to us looked between my father and me, whispering, “What’s bound in blood cannot be undone.”

Pain and hope both swelled inside me.

Father looked toward the Pits and spat on the earth.

AS WE
approached Mugdani from the height of the mountains, the whole city seemed to move like a stream of multicolored water beneath us. I hadn’t visited the capital since I was a small child, and seeing it with fresh eyes took my breath away. The streets were paved with polished bronze. The oblong houses of the ministers and top military officials lined every road, painted in brilliant reds and blues, the tiles of their roofs glittering like a fish’s scales. Terraced farms lined the mountain’s sides, holding stalks of wheat and corn that billowed in golden wisps. Mounted warriors manned every street corner, their masked faces impassive while children, merchants, and aristocrats scurried past them.

I wondered what kind of weapons Arusei planned to bring in from Echalend that made him think he could overthrow a General who governed a place like this. No wonder he needed the unicorns.

The General’s villa stood on a man-made hill at the very center of Mugdani. It was positioned so he could watch everything but live well above the noise and smell. As we descended into the crowded streets, Kara covered her nose with her hand. The city’s perfect image was shattered by the stench of human sweat and animal manure.

Everywhere we rode, eyes turned to stare at us—at Kara. In a city full of ministers, the people were used to seeing processions of chiefs with their entourages come to petition the General. But a white girl with red hair, carrying a tiny unicorn foal, riding a stallion that lived to show off, drew their attention, and people came to the front of their shops and stalls to stare. Brekna danced under her, snorting. The stallion knew when people were watching him, and he thrived on their admiration. Tumelo would have been proud of his horse’s display.

“He’s feisty today,” Kara panted as she tightened Brekna’s reins. “I expected he’d be exhausted by now, but he’s going to unseat me if he doesn’t stop bouncing around.”

“He’s excited. It’s not every day huge crowds of people come out to stare at him. Plus he knows he’s got a rider worth showing off.” I winked at her. Her cheeks were already pink from the sun, but she blushed as red as a hogfish snout.

“All the tour companies and shipmen told us we couldn’t go to Mugdani. Even diplomats meet the General outside the capital, usually,” she said. “I might be the first person from Echalend to ever see it.”

That explained the reaction of the crowd. Children were now lining up along the streets to point at us. The guards squirmed in their saddles.

My father scowled at the attention. He motioned to the rest of the warriors behind us. “Let’s trot the rest of the stretch. People are getting too curious, and I don’t want to get stuck in a mob.”

We trotted to the base of the General’s villa complex, scattering merchants like minnows ahead of us. Some of them raised their fists and cursed as they quickly wheeled their carts out of our way. The odor of manure and bodies was replaced by the fragrance of cinnamon, orange peel, and nutmeg as spices fell onto the street. A lump formed in my throat. Those smells reminded me of Bi Trembla’s baking, and I wondered what she must be thinking now. Tumelo had promised her we would return by nightfall, but I hadn’t dared ride for the camp before going to my father. If Arusei’s men had tracked our horses home, I didn’t want to think about what they might have done to Bi Trembla. Especially if they believed she was hiding us.

Five guards stood watch over the cobbled path that led up the mound to the General’s residence. My father raised his hand flat to greet them and then bent in his saddle to answer their questions. Unlike the rest of the warriors on the streets, they didn’t wear masks. Their brown eyes swept accusingly over Kara, and they pointed, tone angry. But they kept their voices so low I couldn’t make out all the words they said. When the name “Arusei” passed my father’s lips, the guards exchanged uneasy glances and stepped aside. I was suddenly curious how my father, and everyone else, seemed to know of him.

General Zuberi met us on the terrace outside his red brick villa. He looked nothing like the proud warrior I remembered from my childhood. His back had stooped, and he walked with a cane. An attendant followed closely after him, clutching a folding wooden stool in her hands. She set the stool up for the General, and he lowered himself onto it with wobbling knees as our party filed into the courtyard.

He had never been a large man, but when I was a child, people used to say that the General was like a leopard. Not so big as a lion nor as bloodthirsty as a hydra, but when he struck, he moved unseen, dragging his enemies by the throat to their deaths with such grace people never even saw the slaughter. Even now, old as he was, when he sat, his posture had a rigid straightness, and he balanced his cane across his knees like a rifle.

He looked up at my father and his weathered face cracked into a smile. “Ade! It’s been too long, my friend. What an honor… and a surprise.”

Father raised his arm in salute and then climbed down to greet the General. They grasped forearms, and then the General peered over my father’s shoulder. His eyes narrowed, and he stood up again, limping toward Kara.

She removed the hat Mama had given her to block the sun, a gesture I knew was meant to show respect in Echalend. The General leaned his weight on Brekna’s sweaty flank and spoke in Echalende. His accent was thick and musical and his words gentle, but I was suddenly aware of the predatory intensity in his eyes. All at once he definitely didn’t look fragile or old anymore, and I wondered if we should have left Kara with his guards at the gate. “My dear, you’re a long way from home.”

“We’re here about your cousin, Arusei,” Father said. “He’s building a railway and planning to bring weapons from abroad.”

The General abruptly turned away from Kara. His eyes snapped up to my father’s face. “Where did you get this information?”

“My daughter.”

Everyone turned to me.

I swallowed as General Zuberi turned his intense stare on me. “I work as a safari guide now, for my cousin in the lower delta. I was out with one of our guests—Miss Harving, who you see there—and we came across a pile of unicorn horns, thirty of them at least. It’s not normal… they don’t shed their horns or live in groups.”

“Come to the point,” the General urged, tapping his cane on the ground.

“Arusei and a group of men are capturing the unicorns. We followed them to their camp. They’re building a railroad, as my father said. And they have my cousin; they took him captive. And Miss Harving’s father. They’re going to bring weapons in on the railroad.”

“And they just let you waltz into their camp to have a look? Did you see these weapons? Arusei just told all of this to you?” General Zuberi raised an eyebrow.

I flushed, having to repeat it yet again made me realize just how foolish and naïve we had been. “No, sir. Initially, we tracked them back to their camp to see what they were doing with the unicorns. One of Arusei’s men saw Kara and assumed we must be dealers from Echalend. Then we went back, and her father and my cousin met with him. But it all went wrong, and he arrested them. We only just managed to get away. We dressed my cousin up like a chief and Mr. Harving as a weapons dealer.”

Father chuckled, rolling his eyes despite the situation. “I bet Tumelo loved that.”

“And you have stolen one of Arusei’s beasts, I see.” General Zuberi gestured toward the tiny unicorn. He reached up toward Kara. “May I see it? Satisfy an old man’s curiosity—I’ve never seen one so small or so close.”

Kara unwound the bag’s straps from around her neck and passed the baby to the General. In the arms of a new person, the foal began to struggle, but he was firmly enclosed by the fabric. The General ran his fingers over the fuzz-covered horn. “How did he capture you, huh? Was it a moonstone?”

“We didn’t see what he used.” I swallowed, glad his eyes were fixed on the little animal instead of me. I couldn’t have the most powerful man in Nazwimbe believing that I had lied to him.

“Did you see the weapons? Do you have any idea what it is that he plans to bring or what we will face?”

I shook my head. “The railroad is not complete yet. But they’ve taken hundreds of slaves. I don’t know where they are getting them. I believe they are capturing townspeople from local villages or offering money to their chiefs in exchange for delivering them.”

My father made a sound like a growl in the back of his throat. His warriors fidgeted in their saddles. The excesses and greed of many local chiefs had been stamped out when General Zuberi took power, but Father took reports of this behavior personally. In our village, we had people who had sought refuge from the tyranny of their own chiefs, many with amputated limbs and smiles scarred by blades.

The General continued to stroke the foal’s baby fuzz. The unicorn gradually relaxed under his touch, sucking on the man’s gnarled finger as if hoping his new friend might feed him. Zuberi’s attendant crept forward unbidden and positioned the stool so that the General could rest again. “My mind keeps returning to these creatures. Arusei has wanted to take power for years. He believes that I’m too old and that the chiefs have too much autonomy. The railroad is worrying. Arusei has always looked to the North for help.” He cast a glance up at Kara. “One of the reasons we do not allow foreigners here, is so that they can’t map our capital. But the use of the creatures, why? It seems like a lot of trouble to go through. Yes, they are powerful, but horses are easier to come by and elephants are stronger. Why these specific animals… unless they are needed for more than building. I fear whatever weapon he plans to bring into this country.”

“We should act quickly,” Father said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Arusei doesn’t have that many men yet. Although he has slaves, I doubt they will fight for him, especially if they see their General and know they have a chance to get away.”

General Zuberi passed the foal back up to Kara. He stroked his chin and one of his legs tapped the earth as he thought. “It will take me a few days to give orders to the commanders here. I can be ready to leave in two days’ time. Until then, you will have a place here as my guests. Your men will be housed comfortably in city lodgings, and you can take up residence in the guest’s cottage at the base of the mound.”

“Two days?” I demanded, ignoring the sharp look my father gave me. “Tumelo could be dead in two days.” If he wasn’t gone already…. “Can’t we leave today? It’s still early, not even noon. If we left now, we could reach the poacher’s camp by sunset.”

The General scowled. “I was not asking for your input, Miss Ohakim. I know my armies and my commanders. We will strike at dawn, not at night when our torches will let them know we are coming. Without more information on the weapons, we must do it that way. I have been a military commander longer than you have been alive. I am sorry that your cousin is a prisoner, but if you had come to your father first, instead of foolishly trying to infiltrate a serious criminal operation, you would not have these concerns. Dismount. My attendants will see to you.”

My face went hot with shame.

He raised an arm and a herd of servants, hiding in places I’d never noticed, appeared in the courtyard. Each of them was dressed in simple black shifts with a red scarf wrapped around their heads. Zuberi made his own way inside, leaving us in his servants’ capable hands. I dismounted, my dress clinging awkwardly to the horn on my saddle.

As soon as my feet touched the ground, my father grabbed me by the arm and shook me. “What possessed you to speak out to the General in such a manner?”

I pulled my arm away but could still feel the places where his fingers had been as I cradled it against my chest. “Tumelo. Even if Arusei doesn’t kill him, who knows what he is doing to them right now? The sooner we get them away, the better.”

“Do you think I like the idea of my nephew languishing in that traitor’s cage? I hate it. But the General will want to do things thoroughly, not rush in and hope everything works out,” he hissed. I looked away. We had rushed in, and it had cost us, but part of me worried now that the cost of moving too slowly might be worse.