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‘What are you talking about?’ asked Akuebue in alarm.
The Court Messenger continued to smile menacingly. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Your friend Wintabota’ (he mouthed the name in the ignorant fashion of his hearers) ‘has ordered you to appear before him tomorrow morning.’
‘Where?’ asked Edogo.
‘Where else but in his office in Okperi.’
‘The fellow is mad,’ said Obika.
‘No, my friend. If anyone is mad it’s you. Anyhow, Ezeulu must prepare at once. Fortunately the new road makes even a cripple hungry for a walk. We set out this morning at the first cock-crow and before we knew where we were we had got here.’
‘I said the fellow is mad. Who…’
‘He is not mad,’ said Ezeulu. ‘He is a messenger and he must give the message as it was given to him. Let him finish.’
‘I have finished,’ said the other. ‘But I ask whoever owns this young man to advise him for his own good.’
‘You are sure you have given all the message?’
‘Yes, the white man is not like black men. He does not waste his words.’
‘I salute you,’ said Ezeulu, ‘and I welcome you again: Nno!’
‘There is one small thing I forgot,’ said the Court Messenger. ‘There are many people waiting to see the white man and you may have to wait in Okperi for three or four days before your turn comes. But I know that a man like you would not want to spend many days outside his village. If you do me well I shall arrange for you to see him tomorrow. Everything is in my hands; if I say that the white man will see this person, he will see him. Your kinsman will tell you what I eat.’ He smiled and put his fez back on the head.
‘That is a small matter,’ said Ezeulu. ‘It will not cause a quarrel. I do not think that what you will put into that small belly of yours will be beyond me. If it is, my kinsmen are there to help.’ He paused and seemed to enjoy the messenger’s anger at the mention of his small size. ‘You must first return, however, and tell your white man that Ezeulu does not leave his hut. If he wants to see me he must come here. Nwodika’s son who showed you the way can also show him.’
‘Do you know what you are saying, my friend?’ asked the messenger in utter disbelief.
‘Are you a messenger or not?’ asked Ezeulu. ‘Go home and give my message to your master.’
‘Let us not quarrel about this,’ said Akuebue stepping in quickly to save the situation which his spirit told him was fraught with peril. ‘If the white man’s messenger gives us some time we shall whisper together.’
‘What are you whispering for?’ asked Ezeulu indignantly. ‘I have given my message.’
‘Just give us some time,’ said Akuebue to the messenger who complied and went outside. ‘You may go out with him,’ he told the escort.
Ezeulu took no part in the consultation that followed. When the Court Messenger and his companion returned to the hut it was Akuebue who told them that because of the respect he had for the white man Ezeulu had agreed to send his son, Edogo, to bring back whatever message there was for his father. ‘In Umuaro it is not our custom to refuse a call, although we may refuse to do what the caller asks. Ezeulu does not want to refuse the white man’s call and so he is sending his son.’
‘Is that your answer?’ asked the Court Messenger.
‘It is,’ replied Akuebue.
‘I will not take it.’
‘Then you can go into that bush there and eat shit,’ said Obika. ‘Do you see where my finger is pointing? That bush.’
‘Nobody will eat shit,’ said Akuebue, and turning to the messenger he added: ‘I have never heard of a messenger choosing the message he will carry. Go and tell the white man what Ezeulu says. Or are you the white man yourself?’
Ezeulu had turned a little away from the others and begun again to pick his teeth with the broomstick.
Chapter Thirteen
As soon as the messenger and his escort left Ezeulu’s hut to return to Okperi the Chief Priest sent word to the old man who beat the giant ikolo to summon the elders and ndichie to an urgent meeting at sunset. Soon after the ikolo began to speak to the six villages. Everywhere elders and men of title heard the signal and got ready for the meeting. Perhaps it was the threat of war. But no one spoke of war any more in these days of the white man. More likely the deity of Umuaro had revealed through divination a grievance that must be speedily removed, or else… But whatever it was – a call to prepare for battle or to perform a communal sacrifice – it was urgent. For the ikolo was not beaten out of season except in a great emergency – when as the saying was an animal more powerful than nté was caught by nté’s trap.
The meeting began as fowls went to roost and continued into the night. Had it been a day meeting children who had brought their father’s stools would have been playing on the outskirts of the market place, waiting for the end of the meeting to carry the stools home again. But no father took his child to a night meeting. Those who lived near the market place carried their stools themselves; the others carried goatskins rolled up under the arm.
Ezeulu and Akuebue were the first to arrive. But they had hardly sat down before other elders and men of title from all the villages of Umuaro began to come into the Nkwo. At first each man as he came in saluted all those who were there before him but as the crowd increased he only greeted those nearest to him, shaking hands with only three or four.
