Set in the same world as The Lone Drummer, but across the continent of Mbali in the Kingdom of Ghan, two friends seek to escape their parents’ shadow and make a name for themselves as musicians, but they embark on opposite paths. Both uncover a dark hidden sect that threatens to change all of Mbali.
Excerpt
A drummer accompanied the kora playing griot. Neither were novices. The griot’s song was a complicated mixture of challenging chords and mesmerizing rhythm. Obasi was drawn to the front of the crowd.
He recognized the storyteller immediately. It was the wandering griot, Jal. The last time Obasi had heard or seen of Jal, was when Obasi was circumcised at thirteen. Jal had come into town after the ceremony. He played and told stories from all over the continent, including Ghanian histories. It was widely known that Jal warned of a destructive sea storm that would come from the Western Sea. Jal’s prophetic reputation was strong enough that Queen Ogechi prevented all ships and fishing boats from going out to sea. She also made preparations to protect the city from the storm. Her foresight and trust in Jal’s predictions saved thousand of lives when what would become known as the Dragon’s Hurricane roared past our shores and through the city. It is said that Jal travels throughout the land of Mbali, preparing kingdoms for dark days and deadly disasters. Was Ghan in danger, or was Jal just passing through?
“Before I retire tonight,” Jal said to the attentive crowd, “I’ll share an old story. It is a story of the Masanii, but it is one that is a favorite in the south. Its fame has never reached these shores. Maybe, you’ll see why. It is known as A Magical Proposal.
“In the days of old, when magic was abundant, and everyone was one with their tsun, there lived a beautiful warrior in the land of Qatar named Elissa. She was the most powerful musician in the kingdom. She was also the most beautiful woman spanning all the kingdoms, at least in the North. Men and women volleyed for her attention everyday. They tried to woo her with music, but none could play the kora as mesmerizing as she. Many conjured feats of magic to show their worthiness, but few could compare to her power. Elissa was Qatar’s most powerful Masanii. Her fame spanned all of Mbali, for she had never lost a battle.
“One day, Qatar was attacked by the army of Riverland. When the two armies positioned themselves for battle, Elissa led Qatar’s Masanii in striking the first blow. She played a slow but intense rhythm called the Dontos. Her exquisite strumming of the kora caused trees to stretch and twist and take hold of her enemy’s drum line. Thinking they had an easy victory, the Qatar warriors charged across the battlefield to force Riverland to yield. But one single drummer slapped his djembe with such force, that it spoke to the ground’s tsun, and the earth opened wide and left the Qatar army in a giant impassible ditch.
“On the edge of the ditch Elissa stood ready to duel Riverland’s last standing drummer. From across the ditch, the drummer called out her name…”
“Elissa of Qatar!” The drummer’s voice echoed across the ditch. “I am Tamal. I wonder if we might discuss terms of your surrender?”
Elissa’s blood boiled at the audacity of the lone drummer. She flickered her fingers at an unnatural speed against the strings of her kora. The melody her instrument sang, echoed across the battlefield and stabbed at the sky. Dark clouds formed in response, and they centered above Tamal.
“On the contrary,” Elissa said. “It is your surrender that is forth coming. Throw your drum in the ditch you created for our army, and I won’t call down lightning to send your soul to Jind.”
“All the waters of Mbali will dry up before you could send my soul anywhere but the home Jind has ordained.”
Elissa smiled and played her harp until lightning flashed above Tamal. The lone drummer struck his drum three times, and the lightning meant to strike him, twisted and sparked in the air, then stretched down into the ditch to fry some poor souls of the Qatar army.
“You dragon’s arse,” Elissa cried out. She flicked her fingers again, conjuring fire, ice, and wind at Tamal. As before, he redirected every one of her attacks.
“Elissa,” Tamar said, “We could do this until the moons fall from the sky. There is no need for your army to starve deep in the ground, or for mine to starve stuck in the vines and branches of the baobab…”
Elissa tired of Tamar’s words and strum another song. This time a mountain raised behind her enemy. At the rhythm of her music, it rose higher and higher. Some of Riverland’s warriors rose up the rising hill as the mountain grew.
In between the chords of her mountain raising rhythm, her magical fingers played a song within a song. Another melody chased the first like two birds, one pursuing the other, weaving at every turn. At the second song, a wall of rock and stone rose up from the opposite end of the ditch, rising straight up into the air, blocking Tamar from her view.
Then great boulders began to fall from the top of the mountain. The rocks, large enough to flatten a village, thundered down the hill, crushing everything in their path. As Elissa played her song, strengthening the wall that protected her army, she released a smile, believing the battle would soon be at its end.
Although she could not see through the giant wall she had created, she could still hear Tamal’s drumming on the other side of it. The rhythm was steady, not frantic. Controlled, rather than scrambling.
She waited for the crashing sound of boulders to shut up Tamal’s drumming and smack against her protective wall, but no such sound came. The ground under her feet started to shake, and she quickly strummed a protective spell around her. The spell made an invisible shell of wind energy engulf her body, and it lifted her inches off the ground.
The rumbling stopped and gnarled stems and vines sprung up from the dirt all around Elissa. Before Tamal could tie her up or strangle her with the coming branches, she began a series of chords to push her stone wall over and crush all beneath it.
But as she started the song of her final blow, the bush that formed in front of her sprouted bright red roses. Next to her, white daffodils with yellow center petals unfolded. Pink carnations and violet orchids grew behind her. All manner of beautiful flowers surrounded the powerful levitating warrior. Lastly, a tree of cherry blossoms bloomed before her eyes.
“Beautiful Elissa,” Tamal called from the other side of the wide ditch. “I have not come here to best you in battle. I travelled here with my army to gain your attention and ask you a simple question.”
Elissa’s wall fell back towards her, covering the wide ditch, leaving the soldiers beneath in darkness, and landing atop the ledge in front of the garden of flowers. Tamal stood at its edge. He walked through the roses, placed his drum on the ground, and dropped to one knee.
“Incomparable Elissa, I am the King of Riverland. I rule upon a lonely throne. My courts are packed with dull dancers and tired musicians. My halls are gray and brittle. All of us await a spark of magic and life to lift the kingdom out of this dire straight. Only you, Elissa, have the power, the magic, the sparkle, and the beauty that would light the fire beneath our kindling, and bring us to greatness.”
The lone drummer lifted his head, and Elissa looked into his pair of exquisite golden eyes and fell in love. Elissa accepted King Tamal’s offer, and she became Queen of Riverland. She ruled by Tamal’s side for twenty-five years. After King Tamal passed, Riverland prospered under her hand for twenty more years.”
Jal’s story ended with a song of the Riverland. The crowd dispersed with smiles on their faces and murmuring happy tales. Obasi thought that was as it should be. If Jal didn’t leave a crowd worried and tense about the future, then all must be right in the world.
“Obasi!” Jal called from a distance, “Is that you?”
