The Legend of Hombarume (Legends Series, #1)

35.

Dererai, as if the gods had spoken to him, had already prepared his chimera, the millet and maize had been left to germinate for the previous three days and now he ground them to a coarse mixture in his store behind the kitchen in preparation for what was to come.

He did not need any assistance, he made sure all his ingredients were ready by himself and he pounded them personally. Dererai brewed beer with so much care and finesse that it often worried his two wives, made them suspect that he loved the intoxicating brew more than he ever cherished them. They did not blame him though; the sparring contest was the best event of the year for him. They knew that men loved to show off their strength, make their power known by those around them and as long as their husband was satisfied, there was nothing else to worry about.

The large pots that were used in the process were also readily available in the room where he fermented the mixture each time. The malt was roughly, thoroughly, then gently mixed in large amounts of water before the next stage which required assistance came. Dererai's two sons helped him carry the pots to the large ember ovens dug into the ground beside the kitchen where the heat would start up the  next stage of the process which required a couple of days more. The brew would be young but potent enough when the sparring contest came within the next seven days.

Dererai's was the best brew in the village; he was well-known for keeping the onlookers at the annual contest satisfied while they watched him battle to victory every year. And now that the contest had been confirmed the previous day, he vowed to make it memorable despite the village's present predicament. After a long pause while feeling proud and well contented, Dererai left his store and was about to head to the fields when his youngest daughter came to him to announce that he had a visitor.

'Vakuru matishanyira nhasi,' he said.

Hombarume was seated under a tree at the front just near the kitchen, hence why he hadn't seen him all this while.

'Nhasi ndawana muchibika doro,' he replied, pointing to the earth ovens Dererai had left in the care of his two sons.

'The gods allowed us to wrestle once more, may they be praised.'

He was holding his hands up to the sky and not putting any effort in concealing his mirth.

'May their gourds never run dry,' Hombarume said, imitating his friend's hand gesture.

They moved together towards the fields with the intention of conversing more freely and delving into deeper topics of conversation.

'How is the family? I trust it hasn't grown any bigger the few days I have been away,' Hombarume said laughing.

'You have little faith in me, my friend and I don't blame you.'

They both exploded instantly into laughter at the remark.

Dererai had a sizeable field, not large but enough to cater to his brewery needs. He grew his finger millet, sorghum and maize on a minor plot of land. He had done a little of everything in the past years but his beer had brought in more cowries than everything else, however he never really did go far with it despite his friends encouraging him to take his brewery to the next level.

'The gods haven't been as kind to you, my friend, but you prevail.'

Hombarume looked up at him from the fallen tree they were sharing as a seat and nodded without saying a word.

'It is what happens now that I fear my friend. I do not fear much for myself. I am a hunter, the chase is embedded in me, it courses through my veins. But if no action is taken, the village will perish at the hands of whatever evil has gripped it.'

Dererai looked out to his homestead where his daughter was singing sweetly at the fire and sighed.

'Indeed we are in danger. But as you prevailed against the beast, so must we.'

Hombarume sensed the air getting thick.

'Hopefully your brew will be strong enough by the time the last fight elapses.'

'You won't even remember your name, my friend,' Dererai replied.

'Last year we insulted Tamuka at his tavern, told him his beer tasted like old man urine, among other things, do you remember?'

'He will never allow us to set foot in that tavern ever again,' Derera said.

Hombarume chuckled then replied his friend.

'Let us go and find out, my friend.'

The last thing Dererai wanted right now was to provoke the tavern owner but he had to lift his friend's spirit. He had to lift his own spirit too.

Tamuka's tavern, being the famous one in the village, was the hive of activity. Men from everywhere in the village came to quench their thirsts daily. He had a hoard of regular customers who always made sure that his business stayed afloat. There were regular drunks, people who would get highly intoxicated but knew their way back home and then there were the hardcore drunkards who would spend the night on the floor outside the tavern and commence the following morning, theirs was a terrible cycle that would surely never end well.

The tavern was concealed within the village, a part of it that people did not usually frequent to prevent judgment from the masses but in a small village, at some point everyone always eventually knows everything.

The tavern was large and thatched with a shed outside to provide space for the partakers. Outside in the compound, two other sheds had been fashioned, complete with wooden benches and stalls. In the center of the compound were drum players and regular singers, two fires had been lit at the two small sheds. There was raucous laughter which made it hard to believe that the singers were useful at all.

Hombarume and Dererai approached one of the smaller sheds with full knowledge of the fact that Tamuka would not be there since he would be attending to customers at the tavern. A few people sat on one bench laughing their way through a pot of beer. They sat down and soon enough their beer was on its way, they were comfortable and engaged in the ongoing conversation when Tamuka suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

'You two are gluttons for trouble and danger. Do you think I will allow you to drink here ever again?'

He was trying to remain calm so that his customers wouldn't see him angry but Dererai could see the vein at his temple bulging with every word.

'Come on Tamuka, will you blacklist us forever? Those were small insults merely rooted in truth,' Dererai said, catching his friend unawares with his statement.

'Ibvai pano ndisati ndatsamwa!' Tamuka said, advancing.

His speed while moving towards the two men was unmatched, he was suddenly halted by a hand to the chest. Dererai looked up, the hand was Revai's.

Glossary.

Chimera - Malt, created by germinating grains by immersing them in water then drying them and grinding them.

Matishanyira nhasi - you've visited us today.

Nhasi ndawana muchibika doro - i found you in the mddle of brewing beer today.

Ibva pano ndisati ndatsamwa - leave before i get angry.