Lord of Darkness

by Robert Silverberg

  “These men my companions are Portugals. I am an Englishman!”

  “And what is that?”

  For answer I swung my head vigorously from side to side, so that my long golden hair did fly about and sparkle most brightly in the sun, and the Jaqqa, at that, did widen his eyes and look deeply amazed.

  With my arms uplifted and my hands outstretched I cried, “An Englishman is a son of Albion, and a lord among men. And we serve Her Most Protestant Majesty Elizabeth, who is paramount among the princes of the globe.”

  This fine speech did cow the Jaqqa by a trifle, as it was meant to do. Coelho, who comprehended not a word, leaned close to me and said, “What is all this babbling about?”

  “We are in no danger, I think,” said I. “For these are Jaqqas who have never seen white men, and know of Portugals only by rumor and repute, and may believe me a god, for the color of my hair. I think they will not dare harm us.”

  “Let us pray you are right,” said Coelho sourly.

  The long-shanked Jaqqa spoke again. I did not follow his words; but it was some flowing grand announcement. Then there was a stir among the general mass of cannibals, they moving back and away from the center, and I saw that a new figure had arrived among us, led by the messengers who had gone to the camp. He strode into the middle of our group and stood regarding us with the deepest attention.

  I think this man was the most frightful vision I had ever beheld, as terrifying as the fiercest of coccodrillos or the most savage of howling wolves. He was of great size, a true giant, and black as the darkest of nights. Yet for all his blackness his face looked something other than pure Negro, with a straight nose and narrow harsh lips that made him all the more cruel of visage, somewhat like a Moor, though much darker. His hair was curling and very long, embroidered richly with knots of the shells called mbambas, which are whelks or trumpet-shells. About his neck was a collar of other large shells of shape of twisted turrets, that I know are sold on these shores for the worth of twenty shillings a shell; and about his middle he did wear a string of beads cut from the stuff of ostrich-eggs. His loins were wrapped in a blazing bright swath of scarlet palm-cloth, fine as silk. The rest of his body was bare, but was painted with red and white ornaments of the most terrifying kind, and where he was not painted, his skin was carved and cut to raise it with sundry decorations that rose a startling height in relief, as if it were a branched damask, all covered over with pretty knots in divers forms. And he gleamed with a high gloss, so that I thought almost I could see a reflection in his skin, like unto a mirror. In his nose he wore a piece of copper two inches long, and in his ears also. In sum he was naught but the utmost image of barbarism.

  And his eyes! God’s death, those eyes! They were pools of night surrounded by a field of dazzling white, and they drew me and held me like the most powerful of lodestones. I felt weak of the knees when I saw those eyes.

  I was minded once again of that time long ago in the isle where I had been cast away by Abraham Cocke’s treachery, when a vast allagardo or coccodrillo did step from a river and smile at me and put out its tongue, and I stood transfixed, and then had gone not away from it but toward, like one who has been magicked. This Jaqqa king magicked me in the same way.

  The tall cannibal who spoke Kikongo said, “You are in the presence of the great Jaqqa, Imbe Calandola.”

  And I felt as though I had fallen rather into the presence of the Lord of Darkness himself, the Prince of Hell, the Great Adversary, the vast Lucifer of the Abyss: Satan Mephistopheles Beelzebub, the Archfiend, the King of Evil.

  SIX

  IN THE silence of the beach the crashing of the surf was a noise like the roll of the drums of Judgment. This Calandola did come forward and stand by me, so that I smelled the reek of his skin, which I learned afterward came from his being daily anointed with the fat of human victims, to give him that burnished gloss. Yet I dared not flinch from him as he inspected me close.

  The bigness of him was overpowering. I saw now that he was not in sooth the tallest of this company, and indeed was only two inches greater in height than I, I being of no mean stature myself; but what gave him his look of great size was the enormous breadth of his shoulders and the thickness of his neck and the power of his arms and hands, which could easily seize two men by their heads and crush them at the same time like eggshells.

  And those great hands did go to my own head, but not in any violent way. He scooped up my hair and let it drop again, and ran his hands through it, most lightly as if handling a fabric so fragile that it would melt at a harsh breath. He stared me deep in the eyes, as though seeking to read my soul. Rarely have I been stared so deep. He walked around me, studying me from every side, and touched my hair with the tips of his fingers, and my beard, and drew his fingers even across my eyebrows, which are thick and very golden. While so doing he muttered words to his high princes, and to himself; and when he had done with me he clapped his hands and let forth a loud diabolical laugh, as if to say, “Your strange hair gives me a great pleasure, Englishman!”

  Then he swung round and marched up the beach to his camp, and Jaqqa Longshanks made a signal to me that I should follow, with my companions.

  Which we did, and came before Imbe Calandola again when he was seated upon a sort of high stool in a tent. Five of his princes stood to his side, and two man-witches, and two women that might have been sisters, for both had heavy breasts, and the same face, with four of their teeth pulled out for beauty’s sake and their hair piled high with mbamba-shells thrust into it.

  A great bowl of palm-wine was brought, and Calandola drank of it, and then it was proffered to me. And when I had had some sips of it Calandola did dip his hands into it, and shake the sweet heavy wine out onto my hair, as though he were anointing me. After I was thoroughly drenched in the stuff he took my head very gently between his hands, and rubbed the wine deep into my scalp, all the while saying things in his language, with a low rumbling voice, to the man-witches beside him. To which I submitted without hesitation, for when one is in the camp of the cannibals and their king would bathe your head with wine, and they are five hundred and you are one of but a very few, one does not play the fastidious fop and refuse the honor.

  When I was thus soaked, the long-legged Jaqqa who spoke the Kikongo tongue said, “Imbe Calandola would know why you have come to this place.”

  “To trade upon the coast,” I replied. “We deal in goods of all kinds, and mean to purchase cattle and any other useful merchandise.”

  This he told to Calandola, who made a reply.

  To me the Jaqqa said, “The Imbe-Jaqqa makes you welcome here, and instructs you to have your people come on shore with all your commodities.”

  I did translate this for Coelho, who showed great sign of relief, and would at once have boarded the longboat to return to the safety of our ship. But first there were certain rituals, and more passing about of the palm-wine; and then when it was plain we could go, Calandola gestured that I stay behind, with two others of the Portugals.

  At this I sank into leaden despond, for my despairing imagination at once threw forth a likely sequence of event, by which Captain Pinto Dourado, fearing some trap, took his ship and crew away from these waters the instant his longboat returned, abandoning me and my two fellows here. I was an old hand at being abandoned, and ever mistrusted my position. And I doubted much that Pinto Dourado would want to march his own precious self into a den of man-eaters. Even did I take the picture a little farther, and see myself as the grand feature of the cannibal feast, at which all these Jaqqas did jostle and shove to get themselves some morsel of the flesh of the golden-haired god.

  But my forebodings proved to be mere vapor. Pinto Dourado indeed hastened to come ashore with all his crew, and heaps of beads and gibcracks to trade with: if he had any much fear of Jaqqas, his love of profit altogether eclipsed that fear. We went into the Jaqqa camp, which was very orderly, entrenched with piles of wood; and we had houses provided for us that night, and many
loads of palm-wine, and cows and goats and flour for our use.

  There was after darkness a mighty feast, and here I expected to see human flesh upon the banquet. But no: the Jaqqas dined that night as we did, on roasted goat, and beef, and copious draughts of the palm-wine. With this was much loud harsh music of a very barbaric kind, made on drums and fifes and mpungas and a thing called a tavale, which is a board rising on two wooden sticks that they beat with their fingers. And there was dancing by the women, who wore nothing but masses of beads about their necks and arms and legs. They leaped across the fire like prancing witches, grinning widely to show their gap-toothed mouths, and laughing and screaming. And in the midst of all sat the king-demon Calandola on his stool, his oiled body glittering by firelight, his huge legs thrown far apart, his head back as he roared out his great cries of pleasure. And at all times there were three or four women about him, doing foul things to him, rubbing him and tonguing him and taking his giant yard into their straining mouths, whilst he idly stroked their woolly hair.

  I felt the powerful presence of that man as a real and heavy pressure on me. Waves of force and might rolled from him like the booming of drums, like the crash of the tempest. There was no escaping him, no hiding from him.

  I saw him as a giant mouth bestriding the breast of the world, and feeding, feeding, feeding.

  We slept but little that night, for the festivities went on almost to dawn. And when the first early light came, and sleeping Jaqqas lay sprawled like ninepins everywhere, sleeping Portugals, too, there was a conference among Imbe Calandola and his interpreter-Jaqqa and Captain Pinto Dourado and me, and I discovered then why the king of the Jaqqas had been so glad of letting us come on shore.

  Through the interpreter, whose name was Kinguri, we were told that Calandola was determined to overrun the realm of Benguela, which was on the north side of the River Kuvu. That is, he did not intend to menace the small Portugal settlement there, but he would have his way of conquest with the Benguela folk, who were ruled by a prince named Hombiangymbe (or so it sounded to me.) For this he did want our help, in bringing his men over to the other side of the river with our boat. “If you will aid us,” said Kinguri, “the Imbe-Jaqqa will let you have all the captives to take as slaves, for we know you are hungry for many slaves for selling.”

  This astounded me, that we should go in league with man-eaters to subjugate a native tribe already giving tribute to Portugal. I did not think we would do such a thing, and was forming in my mind the words of refusal, when Pinto Dourado said unto me, with his eyes gleaming with money-lust, “Aye, it will be worth fortunes to us! We will do it!”

  “Can that be so?”

  “We will do it,” said he sternly. “Tell him. Give him our warm pledge!”

  And so it was agreed. All that day long, preparations for the war went forth briskly among the Jaqqas, and by night there was another great feast, as wild as the one before.

  The women danced to the drums, and some young ones performed an obscene rite, dancing in pairs, one following behind the other and the second one aping the gestures and movements of a man pursuing a woman. At a certain moment, when the pounding of the drum came to its most envigored moment, the girl who played the man’s part did grasp hold of the other and turn her around. Then they held one another by the shoulders and in a fierce and frenzied way did mime out the sexual act, with a thrusting of loins and a grinding of bellies and a rubbing together of the dark hairy zone of womanhood in high mock and counterfeit of copulation, until they fell exhausted to the ground. Then a second such couple did the like, and a third, and when everyone was suitably inflamed the chieftains of the tribe did select women from the dance and drag them aside, and spread their legs and have them in the open, all the while making hard growling sounds more suited to the coupling of savage dogs or hyaenas. But I noticed that the Jaqqas took care to pull out and spill their seed on the bellies of these girls, and not to plant it in their wombs: which I learned afterward was a feature of this rite, and not the general Jaqqa custom of coupling.

  This festival ended by midnight and there was sudden silence, like a falling curtain, and everyone slept. I lay on my rough pallet a long while, listening to the soft breathing of the cannibals everywhere about, and through my mind tumbled the spectacle of the day: the naked women miming copulation, the huge Jaqqa warriors spurting their seed onto them, the Jaqqa smile with the missing teeth, the fires blazing high, and always Calandola, Calandola, Calandola, presiding over these hellish games in broad delectation, singing and shouting among his playfellows with a wondrous roar.

  In the morning, before break of day, Calandola did arise and strike his ngongo, which is an instrument of war that has the shape of a double bell, and presently made an oration with a loud voice, that all the camp might hear. I had already in a single day learned enough of the Jaqqa tongue so that I knew something of what he was saying, which was that he would destroy the Benguelas utterly. This he cried with such vehemence as to shake the earth.

  And presently they were all in arms, and marched to the river side, where they had built jangadas or rafts out of a light wood that grows abundantly on the swampy banks of the rivers. Owing to the strength of the current, poling these jangadas across the rivermouth was an awful task, that would strip the warriors of their vigor before they reached the other side; which was why they wanted the use of our boat. They swarmed about us, every one eager to have the credit of being first into the campaign, and Calandola was fain to beat them back to keep them from overflowing us. He picked his prime men and we took a load across, the bravest of the cannibals, and then another group.

  On the second trip some warriors of the Benguelas appeared, and took up into a warlike position to menace the first party of the Jaqqas, who were sore outnumbered. But Pinto Dourado said, “Fire upon them,” and we did shoot off our muskets, which slew many of the Benguelas and drove the others off.

  By twelve of the clock all of the Jaqqas were over on the other side. Then Calandola commanded all his drums, tavales, mpungas, and other screeching and thumping instruments of warlike music to strike up, and give the onset, which began a bloody day for the Benguelas.

  We took no part in the slaughter, but watched from afar, and I saw the troops of Calandola sweep down upon that helpless village the way the voracious army of ants had invaded my sleeping hut in that other village by Lake Kasanza. There was no holding back the Jaqqas, nor slowing them. With terrible wailing shrieking devil-cries did they rush upon the Benguelas, who staunchly stood fast a little while, and then, knowing the dread nature of their enemy, gave way to fright. They broke ranks and turned their backs to flee, and a very great number of them were slain, and were taken captives; man, woman, and child. These Jaqqas are mainly men of very great stature and power, and they fight with such frenzy and such energetic wielding of their swords and lances that there is no checking of them once they are fully aroused in martial fervor.

  The prince of this land, Hombiangymbe, was slain, along with more than one hundred of his chief lords, and their heads were lopped off and thrown at the feet of the great Imbe-Jaqqa Calandola, who sat on his stool of state most solemnly witnessing and savoring his victory. Then the men, women, and children of the tribe were brought in captive alive, and the captive men were made to carry the bodies of the dead Benguelas that were heaped up to be eaten. For these Jaqqas are the greatest cannibals and man-eaters that be in the world, and love to feed chiefly on man’s flesh, notwithstanding that they have vast herds of cattle. And I think they had made this war on the Benguelas principally because for some weeks they had been wandering in a land without settlements, and had not had the opportunity for making a dinner on their favorite sort of meat.

  What happened next was frightful, though for my part I had seen something of its like among the man-eaters of Brazil long years ago, and so my soul was hardened somewhat to the sight.

  The Jaqqas did build a great fire, and threw upon it much wood from the houses of the captur
ed, and added to it certain stones and powders that their man-witches carried, to cause the flame to rise up in blue and green and violet and other stark hues. While this was being done, some older men of the tribe, using long copper blades that they wielded with great skill, worked a butchery on the dead corpses, making them ready for the meal by cutting away such parts as the Jaqqas do not prefer, and opening certain slits in the skin for better roasting. For sometimes the Jaqqas do boil their prey and sometimes they roast it, but they had not brought their great kettles with them over to this side of the river, so that it behooved them to do the roasting now. They took certain long spits and mounted them with great care, and plainly they were much practiced and expert at this task; and then they did slide the bodies of the dead upon the spits like oxen, and turn them and grill them nicely and baste them with juices as the very best cooks would do that ever served in the kitchen of a king. The meat did sizzle and crack and char quite well, and a flavor came from it that—God help me, it is the truth!—did smell most savory, so long as one kept one’s back turned, and did not let one’s self perceive the source of the savor.

  Calandola called out to us quite jovial in his loud roaring way, and it was not hard to divine that the words he was crying were something like, “Come, Portugals, join in this our feast! We will set aside the finest cuts for you, since you are our friends!”

  But of course we did not accept the hospitality of him, and in good sooth many of our men went lurching off into the woods, and I heard the sound of retching and puking coming from their direction. I myself was not so hard affected, though it did not enter in my mind to take part of this grisly feeding. As for the defeated folk of Benguela, they were made to stand in two long ranks, naked and weaponless, and to watch as the cookery proceeded. What thoughts went through their souls I cannot say, for they were very silent, except for some wounded who did groan a little, and I could not tell from their eyes whether they were deeply grieved, or else so stunned and numb that they did not comprehend the sense of what was taking place. I think if this had been Essex, and two hundred English men and women had had to stand by while their brothers and sons were roasted, we would have heard some little outcry from them, and more than a little: but these are different folk here, and their way of thinking is very foreign to me. Yet am I fair certain that they grieved, however far inward, for this terrible thing.