So His Name Is Shaka?

[NubianMercenary]

NOTE: This is a story I decided to write about historys' most brilliant, black, militaristic leader: Shaka Zulu, leader of the Zulu nation from 1816-1828 and founder of the Great Zulu Empire.

Enjoy!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Intro: "Centuries passed, as the tales of fallen heroes were brought to the Bantu by the wind.
Yet only one tale was told with a hint of fear, the tale of a boy who became a warrior, before he became a man, his name was Shaka Zulu".

This is his story...................






.............................................................................................................................................

Chapter One: The Meeting

1786 AD

The acapella harmony of a group of Zulu hunters' echoed throughout the Mkuzi Forest, they had just hunted a leopard of good size and were now making thier usual route back to the Zulu royal Kraal: "Ama-Zulu" .

Crossing over a small stream, one of the hunters - a muscular man with huge haunches - signaled to the rest of the group to hault.

"Look down there" - he slowly raised his arm and pointed towards a small group of ladies gathering water to carry back to thier vilage.

"Diwayo, take the men back to the royal Kraal"

"Prince Senzangakona, I advise you not to talk to these girls, it is very risky"

Senzangakona grinned. "That is half the fun of it Diwayo, now go".

"Yebo Baba, as you wish prince" - Diwayo gave a quick bow before waving to the other hunters to follow him.

As they went off ahead, Senzangakona made his way down the stream, carefully closing in on the ladies below.

"Look Nandi, there is prince Senzangakona of the Zulu coming towards us"

"I know" replied Nandi

"Now is your chance to finally meet him Nandi"

"I know" - Nandi gave a devilish grin - "Take the girls back to the village, tell my father that I wanted to stay behind and fetch more water"

The girl smiled back and nodded in response, filling the last of the clay jars with fresh water, her and the rest of the girls made their way back to thier village. Leaving Nandi alone to meet Senzangakona.

"Who is there?" - Nandi teased her intruder.

"You know who I am, Nandi" Senzangakona replied with a humurous tone.

"No I dont" - Nandi played along

"I saw you from the bushes, your eyes told me you loved me" - Senzangakona pointed towards Nandis' eyes.

Nandi blushed.

Senzangakona moved closer and closer until he was but less then a breath away from Nandi.......

Little did they know, that this fateful "meeting" would change the course of South African history for ever.

........................................................................................................

Chapter Two: The Birth that changed Zulu history

1787 AD

It appeared absolute that Nandi was struggling to undergo this tremendous "mission".

She had gone into labour around sun set, and sun rise was slowly appearing above the greenish mounds north of the Elengani encampment. Her face was flushed a bright red colour, her eyes fighting to remain constantly open.

"Come on Nandi, you must have this baby for the good of your people"

Nandi although half uncouncious knew very well that the elder was correct in what he announced. If Nandi had this baby, then Senzangakhona would (by protocol) have to acknowledge this new born child as the rightful heir to the Ama-Zulu kingship.
But Nandi knew this already. What really caused fear in her, was the mere thought of her and her baby not living through this tremendous agonising accurance.

"One final push should do it Nandi" declared the elder.

Nandi, tired and worn out, prayed to the gods of her ancestors to help her. And with a breath of determination, Nandi pushed the life force out of her womb, and into the African sunlight.

But suddenly, with three meagre words, Nandi invisioned the beginings of an Empire bent upon conquest.

"It's a boy"...............

........................................................................................................

Chapter Three: Seeds Of Anger

1799 AD Twelve Years Later

The chirping of Swallows and the roaring of Lions echoed throughout the land.

It was morning.

"Mother?" - Shaka, now aged 12, was a slim and rather danty boy for his age. He however was very tall compared to the rest of his "comrades".

"Why doesnt my Father acknowledge me as his son?" Shaka knew that ever since he was born, Senzangakhona his so called father never really gave Nandi the respect she deserved. And deep down he was beginning to hate his father as the years passed ever so slowly.

"It's because he is afraid of you" Nandi knew this was as honest a answer he was going to get. Ever since she gave birth to Shaka all those years ago, Sengzangakhona had neglected his right as a father. Hardly even looking at her when she would put on her most flambouyant isidwaba' or adorn herself in the most stunning ubuhlalu that the kingdom had to offer. Nandi understood why, she just didnt want to admit the truth to herself.

"Afraid of me?" - Shaka, although usually quick whitted, did not understand why his father: the "great" Senzangakhona would be afriad of him.

"Dont worry son, in later years you will begin to understand, now quickly go, you are late for your training" Nandi gave Shaka a little nudge and tied his club to his waist band before he sprinted off for the long day ahead.

The african sun conveyed its powerful arms over the kingdom, it was midday, and Shaka was late for training.

"Late again are we?" - Philani, the chief instructor of the royal "school" stood an impressive 6'1. A whole head taller than Shaka.

"You know, your lateness is beginning to annoy me Shaka" - Philani pointed directly at Shaka then back at himself, making himself appear even more intimidating.

Shaka simply grinned slyly and said "I am the son of the king, I come and go where I want and when I want to"

Whispers began to be exchanged as the rest of the "class" awed at Shakas' response.

"Thats it!" - Philani picked up a short yet thick stick laying under a small pile of dirt next to his feet.

"I warned you before Shaka, to respect your elders, now you must learn the hard way"

Shaka knew that if he didnt do something, Philani would indeed beat him severely. Shaka at first was afraid, then suddenly a feeling of anger and a wanting to survive overwhelmed him.

Slowly, very slowly. Shaka untied his club from his waist band and gripped it tighter and tighter, then with a look of determination, pounced onto Philani.........





I will update sooner or later. I hope you all have enjoyed the story so far.
Replies would be most welcomed.

NubianMercenary

 

[unscratchedfoot]

Riveting material.

 

[NubianMercenary]

Chapter Four: A Successful Hunt


1799 AD Afternoon


A huge circular human ring now surrounded the two human "competitors". And it appeared that the least likely of the two had the upper hand:

His name was Shaka.

"Argggghhhhhh" - Philani had underestimated Shakas' ability, and now he was about to find out just how far a twelve year old "prince" could be pushed before breaking point.
Shaka had now pinned down Philani onto the blanket of earth beneath them, and with the shaft of his club, Shaka heatedly began to apply a massive amount of pressure, which then in turn began to choke Philani who was now making gurgling noises with what little breath he had left.

Shakas' intentions were clear, he didnt want to just disable Philani he wanted to humiliate him.

"Someone get help" - yelled one of the younger boys.

But no one moved, they instead just stood in a near frozen position as if they were actually being entertained by two struggling warriors: One winning, and the other losing.
In a way it was simply ludicrous, a mere boy aged only twelve was pinning down a full grown man.
But it was no joke for Philani, who was now relentlessly trying to pry himself free from Shakas' life-threatening hold.

Shaka, now at the point of commiting murder slowly realeased some pressure from his hold, leaned forward and with a firm voice whispered

"Do you concede defeat?"

Philani, embarrassed and gasping for air, nodded his head desperately.
Only then did Shaka carefully remove all of his force away from Philani, leaving a bright red mark across his neck.

Shaka raised his club and then stabbed it bottom up into the dirt near his left foot, signalling a successful hunt, or in this case; a victory worth remembering. Then strode his way through a wall of spectators who at this point moved aside from where he was walking.

Shaka then paused and turned towards the huddled group of boys that were now looking at Shaka in a new way - a fearful way.

Shaka smiled to himself then announced in a booming voice:

"Who ever else here believes that I am an annoyance, raise your hand"

To his surprise one hand was quickly raised, Shaka then commanded whoever raised thier hand to step forth so he could see him clearly and deal to him next.

But Shakas' "victory speeche" soon ended as his mother Nandi stepped forward hastily with a look of deep dissaproval......

"This is going to be a long day indeed" Shaka pondered to himself.





NubianMercenary

 

[NubianMercenary]

Chapter Five: Exiled

1799 AD - Following Morning
Location - Zulu Royal Kraal

Shaka, bruised and battered from the encounter with Philani earlier, couldnt sleep at all during the cold night.
Instead he simply relaxed (or tried to), as he rested his head onto his firm arms, he began to think about why he was so badly treated as an outcast, and why his own people resented him.

They in fact, gave more respect to the village dogs, then they did to him and his shunned upon mother.

"Mother" - Shaka pondered - "Why do you love my father?, when he obviously shows no compasion for you what-so-ever?"

It was at this point, that Shaka made a descision that would turn his world up-side-down:

He decided to run away.

Shaka planned it carefully in his head (or so he thought):

First: He would wait till everyone is up and about doing thier chores and daily activities.

Then Secondly: He would simply run away when no one was watching.

It was not such a "bullet-proof" plan as Shaka had intended however, because in the morning, he had a visitor.
An unwelcomed visitor at that. It was a guard, sent without a doubt by his father, who wanted Shaka in a type of house-arrest prison.
And even though Shakas mother went away to plead with his father to show some hint of mercy, Shaka knew it wouldnt be granted to a mere boy, a boy who wasnt wanted or needed under his fathers powerful shadow.

Shaka looked at the figure in front of him: a robustly built man, with huge biceps that seemed the same size as Shakas own head.
Not to mention a noticeably long scar, which zig-zagged acoss his left forearm.

"Undoubtedly the result of a spear stabbing" Shaka thought. Shaka realised that he was staring at the scar for what seemed to be a long time.

"Never seen a battle scar before boy?" The Guards tone was one of power and firmness.

"I have, just not one as ugly and revolting as yours" Shaka looked into the guards eyes, he saw anger and rage build up.

"Watch your mouth, son of Nandi........." before the guard could complete his opinion, Shaka cluthed his fist and leapt onto the seated Guard.

The Guard was more shocked then scared as he held up his two arms in a defensive position, to try and block what ever came upon him.
Shaka punched furiously, landing ever single blow on the unsuspecting Guard, who was now trying to push Shaka off.

Shaka flew a good two metres back, as the guard kicked him with a powerful blow. Shaka began to gasp for air, as he hugged his stomach, trying to relieve the indiscribable pain that now surged throughout his body.
The Guard smiled and then approached Shaka slowly, as if taunting him. Shaka knew that if he didnt act quickly, he would soon be killed, as this was the law for such a crime as treason.
Shaka searched frantically with his left hand while still trying to rub his gut with his right hand, he felt something sharp prick his index finger as he gripped his hand around what seemed to be a spear head.

The Gaurd suddenly stopped, then looked at Shaka, worried if the boy was serious about what he intended to do with the blade.

"Are you going to kill me, little boy?" the Guard annonced sarcastically.

Shaka glanced directly into the Guards eyes and replied with a cold look: "Yes, I am".

The Guards smile quickly dropped.
"We will see about that, you little vermin" The Guard approached, closer and closer until barely two breaths away, he halted and then swung his arm forward preparing to strike Shaka with his fist.

Shaka reacted on pure instinct - "It was either him or the guard that would be meeting thier ancestor soon, and it wasnt going to be him" - Shaka thought, as he spinned to the right side of the Guards leg and then with all his might stabbing the spear head into the Guards throat.
A gush of blood came flowing out of the Guards neck, a gurggling noise was all that accompanied the Guard to the afterlife, his body fell upon the dirt floor, he was dead.

Any normal teen would of been scared of just committing murder, but Shaka was no normal teen, instead, he looked down upon his lifeless opponent and very very slowly, but confidently, smiled.

Shaka then, with a great feeling of satisfaction, sprinted out of the village, and into the African wilderness.

 

[Kommari]

I've got a bad feeling that this will include sex

 

[NubianMercenary]

Chapter Six: Survival

1799 AD - Several Hours Later
Location - Qora River, Zulu border

Shaka slowly bent over the lifeless water and gently dipped his sun-wearied face into the Qora River, Shaka gasped, the warm river water seemed to pierce its fingers into Shakas' cuts and blisters, that now layered his face.
He had ran several miles north from his "home", encountering nothing more then the occaisional Impala or Vulture, who in turn gave little notice to thier surroundings except if being harmed or indangered, and as much as Shaka was tempted to quickly make a spear and kill an Impala or a dumbfounded Vulture, he knew he had to keep running.

He knew that his father, although a poor warrior, conquerer and role-model would not tolerate such reckless and ill behaviour.
His father would at least, send ten of the tribes fastest runners after his "wild-child".

To Shaka, the choice was very very simple - if you stop, you die.

And now here he was, exhausted from the long run, conjuring up just enough strength to repeatedly dip his face to and frow on the face of the river.
Shaka was proud of himself - "I am the slyest Zulu warrior ever born" he whispered to himself.
In actuality, Shaka was indeed very sly.

For he knew that once he reached the Qora River, he was safe.
This was because the Qora River was the traditional border line of the Zulu kingdome, and even the King himself not venture too close to the river border, for beyond it, lay the barbaric villages of the Bantu.
And even though the Zulu themselves could trace thier own humble beginnings back to the Bantu, the Zulu believed that they were more "structured" and stronger then the "Wildmen" from the north.

To Shaka, it didnt matter, he was going to kill any one of these Bantu peasants in order to escape his dark past, and his ba****d of a father.

Shaka finally rested his head under a nearby Shrub, and relaxed a little while, later he would start looking around for some sturdy branches for a fire and to make a roughly built hut on the opposite side of the River.

By the time the Sun started to set underneath the Heavens, Shaka now under the "protection" of his crude hut, just stared into the blazing fire in front of him.
He thought of all the bad things that his father put him through, and how much pain it caused him to even think of forgiving his father for his wrongs. Shaka would rather, to his liking, kill his father by thrusting a spear straight through his heart, while still looking into the eyes of his victim: His Father.

Suddenly Shakas' stamoach began to tremble, Shaka then realised that he hadn't eaten all day.
Just then, a small particular sound erupted from the bushes close by.

"Impala it is" - Shaka announced to himself, he grabbed a thick stick next to him, broke it in two, then slowly crept towards the bushes, imagining the taste of a freshly cooked Impala in his mind.

Then Shaka saw something which alerted him greatly, making his eyes widen with a controlled surprise .
It was a little glimmer, something shinny, reflecting the weakening suns light.

It was, without a doubt a spearhead, someone not something was in those bushes.
So Shaka, armed with little more then a broken stick, began to wonder whether he should of actually made a spear.

It was too late for that now though, Shaka would stand his ground against whatever or whoever came out of those bushes, Shaka would fight for life tonight.

Shaka, would fight for his SURVIVAL.

 

[NubianMercenary]

: Adding more chapters soon.



NubianMercenary

 

[NubianMercenary]

: That would be a good chapter, but no

 

[NubianMercenary]

: Well, I think it's about time I got back to finishing this story, I will be uploading some extra chapters soon.

 

[NubianMercenary]

Chapter Seven: Mercy Is For The Weak

1799 AD - Present Moment
Location - Small Foliage, Qora River

Heavy,
Hot and Hungry.

Shaka was all three, barely gathering enough energy to stand in such humid conditions
he felt himself drifting away to a land filled with giants, witchdoctors and famous Zulu
warriors, a land in his imagination.
Hastily, he shook his head violently from side to side and regained focus, he needed to stay focused at such a time as this, and he needed to be prepared for whatever came out from the shrub-bushes ahead.

Shaka stepped forward, his opponent was obviously too much of a coward to come and face him
properly.
"This son of a swine, has no back-bone" - Shaka contemplated to himself with bemusement.

Holding his stubby stick directly in front of him, as if offering the final blow to a wounded enemy,
Shaka heartedly stabbed the bush, hoping to lure the coward out from his position, penetrating the Shrubs thorny arms Shaka felt something collide with the blunt tip of his branch.
A near-silent whimper erupted from the bushel, Shaka leapt back and held his 'weapon' in a defensive stance, preparing for a frontal attack from the coward inside the bush. Shaka felt his feet caress the surrounding dirt, and grounded himself the best he good.
Without warning, a solitary arm rolled from the bush and relaxed itself onto the dirt carpet beneath, not unlike a tree falling in slow-motion.
Shaka restrained himself to help the coward, as it could easily be a trick to lure him in then kill him at a moment’s instance.
Anyway, he was not one to bestow mercy on any man who couldn’t survive in a shrub, shaded from the angry sun above. But just to make sure, Shaka neared the lifeless arm and keeping his distance, poked it hurriedly.

No response.

Shaka was more than certain that whoever this unbrave warrior was, he was certainly not playing coy or else the 'trap' would of already be sprung.
"Scoundrel!!" Shaka thought to himself, what a waste of time and breath preparing for a battle that did not even commence. With a final kick to the opponents arm, just to make sure, Shaka slowly walked away in the opposite direction and headed for the river.

But with each step he took, Shaka felt something that he never knew he would ever feel: "Compassion". Shaka shook his head - he was not going to help someone who was not strong enough to help themselves, he was a warrior, and warriors who show mercy and who pity the weak deserve to be dead as well!
Too late..... Shaka turned his attention back towards the hostile shrub and its helpless victim and with a feeling of obligation, slowly approached the troublesome bush.


On the way, Shakas’ conscience screamed at him: “You are making a big mistake!, Mercy is for the weak”……..

 

[NubianMercenary]

Chapter Eight: Unexpected Love

1799AD - Moments later
Location - Small Foliage, Qora River

A Lions roar boomed, echoing in a distance, as flocks of various birds soared above the heavens, migrating to and fro.
Signaling their departure with fading chirps here and there.
Shaka looked at the Sun above him - it looked so simple and strong, yet was so sour and hot.

"Just like my Father.." - Shaka whispered to himself, as a faint smile brushed across his face.

Shaka was less than a metre away from the fallen warrior, when he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat, something he never bothered to notice before.

"It can't be!"

The arm!,
Or more accurately, the hand.
Whoever this was, it was not a warrior but in fact a girl!.

Shaka studied the hand more closely, turning the palm towards the sky, Shaka looked at the soft, tender skin that presented itself to his deep dark eyes. Definately a girl, as no scars or rough-skin could be found. Shaka found himself starring abit too long at the lovely tanned arm, blushing to an invisible crowd, Shaka dug his own arms into the Shrub-Bushes and attempted to pull her out.
After what seemed like an eternity, Shaka finally plied the girl free from the Shrubs strong grip.
Browsing over the several small cuts on his arm, he quickly studied the unconscious girl, before checking for any slight hint of life.

Cocking his head sideways, Shaka's heart danced the salsa, as his eyes scrolled up and down her tall, trim body.
She seemed about Shakas age, sixteen, but her beauty surpassed her age.
Not unlike how a Swans' beauty surpasses its' grace in flight.

Her dark-brown shaded hair flowed off her perfect shoulders, and curled themselves up in small ringlets just under her chin.
She wore a two piece animal skin, what looked to be some sort of Lepord skin, Shaka guessed her to be of noble blood, as her clothing was arrayed with several patterns, detailed squiggles and lines covered most of the skin itself.

Shaka softly brushed the skin with his palm, it was very soft, he felt the fur glide in between his fingers as he slowly bent his knees to study the skin closer.
Travelling rather far-south with his wandering hand, Shaka felt the warmth of her tummy with his open hand, she still had life in her.

That was good,
Or was it? - What would she do when she woke up? - Would she fight, or thank him?
Smile or Frown?

Shakas' mind started to go through thousands of different scenarios, with a deep sigh, Shaka picked the fallen beauty up and brought her fine body closer to the river.
Gently cupping some water in his hands, he slowly released the water by making a small funel like hole in his hands.

The water sprinkled off her angelic face, but no response.

Shaka repeated this time after time, when just when Shaka was about to give up hope - the girl tensed her eyes, then very very slowly opened her eyes.

Her eyes immediately met with Shakas',
Her eyes, Hazel with a hint of Green, peered deep into Shakas' own dark brown eyes.
At first Shaka was afriad that she would go crazy and try to hit him or something similar along those lines, however, she did something Shaka never expected.
Lifting her hand towards Shakas' finely carved cheek bone, she rested the weight of her soft hand onto his left cheek, and whispered a sentence that made Shaka blush heavily:

"My Hero...."

 

[NubianMercenary]

Shaka highly embarrassed felt a jolt of electircity run through his body as her hand seemed to melt into his soul, her warmth seemed to penetrate his ice cold heart.
He was caught off guard, Shaka an untamable Lion subdued by a deligate Dove.....

"No" - His conscience screamed at him - "No!! You are the son of the heavens, and you will not be tamed by some unscarred girl".
Shaka pulled himself from her hand, and let it drop hurridly to the dirt ground beneath. The girl gave a puzzled look, as if asking a question without speaking, squinting her soft, emerald eyes she slowly drifted off to the comfort of exhausted sleep.

Shaka felt his cheek, exactly where she had touched him - it felt different, as if softer, raising his other hand he felt his opposite cheek - indeed it was hard, cold and dead.
"Dead, yes, that is what my father will be very soon" - Shaka knew that if he let this girl creep into his iron-heart, he would be swayed from his mission, he would be distracted and Shaka knew that distractions are not a luxury someone in his position could afford.

He would move on.

Shaka packed what little provisions he had aquired - some dried fish, flint stones to make a fire, and a thick stick, which would later become a spear... hopefully.
Dipping his head into the rather warm stream he headed off, worrying about nothing, not the girl, not the hot sun, not his mother at home, NOTHING.

He knew his mission, and he knew that if a man wants to achieve power in this life, or the next, then he must be like a Lion stalking its' prey, strong, swifit and silent - and most of all...

Undistracted.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*********

Ashanti awoke.

The sun started piercing her soft skin with long, outstretched spears of heat. Ashanti got up, her back felt sore as if crushed by a heard of elephants, rubbing her back Ashanti stretched her long sleder legs.
Ashanti looked around her, she was alone.

"Where is the boy? Why did he help me back to health then leave me to die?" Ashanti was worried, her village had been attacked by the northern kingdoms - she was surprised she made it this far, on the brink of the Zulu lands.
Ashanti knew that if she headed any further into Zulu territory, she would surely be put to death - or would she?

Would they care about some princess who had no where else to go?

Would they care about a drifter, a stray..?

Ashanti, standing up realised she hadn't eaten anything solid in two days, she was hungry, eventually she found a small berry bush.

"Better than nothing I suppose" - plucking a fat berry from the bushels' hand, she quickly stuffed it in her mouth - Ashanti looked around to see if anyone was looking - nothing.
Ashanti smerked to herself, life in the palace was different to the open wilderness that was for sure.
No fancy cloth, no guards, nothing.

For some strange reason, at the very back of her mind, Ashanti thought of the boy who helped her back to health - his dark black eyes seemed to carve themselves into her heart.
Ashantis' thoughts spoke aloud -
"Forget it Ashanti, he doesn't care about you, he left you here to die..nothing more to it".
But Ashanti knew that she had to find out exactly why he left her there, not because she liked him a little, but because destiny had put her and him together for a reason.

...and maybe because she liked him a little.

Splashing some water on her face, she hoped to rid herself of any more 'scret' thoughts her mind conjured up of this dashing young warrior, with the dark eyes.
Ashanti stripped the bushel bare and put all the sweet berries in her pouch and made a small driking bottle from some carcuss hide filling it up with stream water, she took a quick swerve.

Yuck!!

It tasted like something her servants would drink, but Ashanti knew she had to survive, she would go find this young warrior and ask him personally why he left her there to die.

Noticing what looked to be some footprints, not her own, going north, the way she had came, she followed on.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

[Zhuge_Liang]

Where isz the continuazion?
Where is the continuation?
Nasaan ang kontinuasyon?

 

[NubianMercenary]

Chapter Nine: The Wisdom Tree

Time of day: Later afternoon

Tracking was definitely not Ashanti's strength, and why should it be? She was tracking someone who left her there to die, alone.
As the wind blew more and more layers of rolling sand upon the fading foot-prints, Ashanti strained to see exactly what she was tracking.
"Please don't fade away, I need to find him, whoever he is" - Ashanti announced ever softly as her sweat dripped from her tender face. Quickly popping a berry into her dry mouth Ashanti felt its juice burst inside her mouth and flow down her throat, it was delicious to say the least.
Thirty berries left, Ashanti would have to run faster if she was going to survive this 'chase'.

The sun began to find its place amongst the lower half of heaven, as the slight tears of shadow dropped from Gods' eyes and found there place over the sun light. At least the sun for now, was gone, now it would be easier to run in cool air, Ashanti had hope once more.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*********

"Weak, weak, weak!" - Shaka could hear his father whisper into his conscience.

Shaka shook his head as sweat parachuted off his brow and evaporated before it hit the blanket of burning sand beneath. His fathers' voice haunted him but didn't scare him, like an annoying demon poking a spear into his ribs then pulling it back out until it healed again. He despised his father, oh! how his father despised him!
Shaka kept running faster, his fathers voice angered him, but more importantly.. fueled him.

Shaka knew where to go next, away. Maybe he would find someone who had the same ambitions as him, he didn't know, all he knew was that if had stayed back with the 'green eyed royal' he would of surely been slowed down.
But still, endless waves of thoughts flooded his mind, thoughts of his life, his mother, and her the girl who left to die.
Shaka felt in inner battle commence in his mind once more...

"No you did the right thing, better her dying than you!"

"Why oh why young warrior did you leave such a splendid gem amongst the dirt?"

Suddenly Shaka pictured his father saying one thing and his mother saying the other....This was too much!!
Shaka slowly stopped running, he wasn't tired, nor was he faint, but he was confused about everything. Finding seldom shade under a nearby 'wisdom-tree' Shaka simply sat and thought, for once - undisturbed.
"The Gods' must have a sense of humour"... Shaka bemused himself in thought, it was ironic that now that he needed guidance he happened to sit under a 'wisdom-tree', the tree which the Sangoma (shamans) would speak to and ask the spirits to help their power to be increased.

"Spirits, witch-doctors... rubbish! Gods' are real, but men who wish to be like them are idiots!" - Shaka threw a stone at the dirt, he was mad at the tree the Sangoma and everything that breathed!
Standing up, he punched the tree over and over again as blood started to burst from his hardened knuckles, bark and blood mixed Shaka didn't stop. His anger growing, he wanted to kill, he wanted blood! and he wanted it now!
Minutes, hours passed... Shakas flesh began to tear, his bone faintly appearing.

"It is only a tree you know" - a voice, soft and educated.. a girls voice...
Shaka stopped, frozen in shock. Or was it relief, amazement? Shaka didn't know.

Her! it was her!

Shaka turned around, his hardened heart slowly started to beat again... to see those green eyes...!
A look of surprise gripped his face... it wasn't her.

"What is wrong? Never seen a princess before?" - The girl was taller than Ashanti, and presented herself more graceful than most girls Shaka had seen, with a button nose and hazel brown eyes. The girl stared blankly at Shaka, browsing up and down, Shaka felt small and belittled..

No! Shaka would not be intimidated even by the Gods' themselves!

"You, a princess? huh! I mistook your voice for a field rat" - The girls face began to squint with anger, her button nose lifting in defence. Shaka began to feel worried, not about what she was thinking, but about what she could do, he was foolish to say that, she was a princess and this land was hers but more importantly a princess never travels alone.

"Watch your mouth! Son of Zulu!" - A well built guard announced himself from behind the bushes, Shaka was right and shocked, how did he know his name or his tribe?

Surely he spoke to no-one on the way about his background. No! he didn't, Shaka thought quickly..
Then how could the guard know his name?

..The girl..

From behind the graceful swan and the ugly guard slowly appeared the 'green eyed royal'.
With a voice that sounded like a sweet swallow, Shaka blushed a hidden grin.

"I see you have met my sister, Malinar" - That would explain alot Shaka thought.
Before he could reply, the guard threw a blind hook and knocked Shaka out cold.

"Weak, weak, weak!" - Shaka could hear his father whisper into his conscience.

 

[Civfan333]

This is a pretty good story. BUT, it hasn't been updated in a while.

 

[NubianMercenary]

Chapter Ten: Palace Prison. Part 1.

Time of day: Early Morning

Pain.

Shaka felt it all over his body swelling his limbs like a balloon. Managing just to open his heavy eyes, he saw a blurred image of what seemed to be a girl, feeling his head for any change in temperature, her hand feel soft yet strong. Shaka wondered if it was Ashanti, would she really help a man who left her to die? and more importantly, how did she track him and now be in front of him?!
All this thinking began to take its toll. Slowly, Shaka drifted back into the uncertain grip of faintness.

"Sploosh" water tipped onto Shakas' sun-dried face and rippled like a snake down his chest. Spitting both water and saliva Shaka was shocked into the surprise of reality. Jolting his arms up in a distinctive fighting position and clutching his fist, Shaka rolled off what seemed to be a padded mat and peered around for the 'attacker', as water seeped into his squinting eyes. There was no attacker nor enemy, Shaka realised the water was just to wake him up, he felt his neck, it leaked with agony. "Coward son of a hippo, I will get you soon" Shaka pictured his spear being thrusted down the guards throat, and seeing the life being squeezed out of him. Shakas' body began to wobble slightly, Shaka knew he had better sit down. Sitting down, Shaka just realised the young maiden still holding the water-pot with her thin hands, she gave him a look of surprise, with a slight hint of anger. At first Shaka thought a small apology should be given, but again he reasoned such gestures of kindness were just idiotic and a sign of weakness. Instead he tried a different approach.

Humor.

"What is wrong maiden? Do I frighten you in some way?" flashing a cheeky grin, Shaka rested himself upon his now soaking bed of rest.

The dainty maiden dropped the water-pot on the dirt floor and said nothing, just stood and starred blankly. Shaka wondered if she was only a pretty face with a pretty empty mind. Motioning with her hands, the maiden pointed to Shakas' neck, and then pointed to herself again. Shaka figured she was explaining to him that she cared for his pain. Shaka bemused "Could of done a better job, stupid mute" then just gave a limped smile as 'thanks'. The mute maiden bowed a little before picking the water-pot back up and taking her leave. Shaka pondered.

"Why the bow?" I am not royalty, just a mere bastard cat in the eyes of my bastard of a father. Shaka felt his friend anger wrap its arms around him once more, after he escaped from this Palace Prison, he would recruit some followers and let his father escape and pass into the after-world.
Where he belonged.

 

[Civfan333]

Good addition. Keep up the good work

 

[NubianMercenary]

*********

A cool breeze sweeps Ahantis' wild hair, taming it for a while then letting it fall lightly upon her smooth shoulders. With her head finding rest upon long pleasant arms, she relentlessly tried to sleep. But her mind was somewhere else, somewhere it shoudn't be... thinking. About a dashing young and angry renegade prince: Shaka.

"Shaka" Ashantis' conscience tortured her with blurred images of him, he who helped her, just to leave her helpless. Ashanti was confused more than anything, with a deep sigh she stretched her tired limbs. Her long legs stiffened then relaxed as she felt the wind blow its breath up her finely crafted attire, she blushed silently. The wind seemed to tickle her emotions as if the ancestors knew what she was thinking, and who she was thinking of.
Her room was very pleasant to look at, she knew many girls her age would slay a thousand bison to get even a peek into her dwelling place. Long maroon red curtains stretched its arms around her round comb of combfort. Red is the colour of the Gods. Magnificant shell necklaces hung loosly from the ceiling, playing their own tunes from the sea in which they came. Her bed however, acted as a crown jewel. Silk from the eastern lands, laced with golden patterns acted as her night-covers. Ashanti enjoyed the silk, it seemed to caress her whole body, as if it were alive.

Silk.

Ashanti again, thought about Shaka and how his face felt nothing like silk but more like rock. A rough rock, cold, hard and angered. If only she could feel that rock once more..just to touch...and to..

"Hmmphh"... the guard interupted her secret wishes. "My princess, the young run-a-way prince has been cleaned up and is ready to be questioned"

Ashantis' heart skipped several beats. But she hid it ever so cleverly.

"..Who?..oh the criminal, I will be there soon, he can wait." Ashanti said it bluntly, her secret wishes were only hers to wish.

"Yes my lady, do you want an escort just in case?"

"No, I should be fine but post two guards outside the room, fully armed. Just in case that hooligan wants to try something" Ashanti motioned her hand for the guard to leave.

And leave he did, flashing a quick bow beforehand. Ashanti wondered if Shaka even thought the way she did about him. What if he just helped her to gain her best interests, what if he had planned this all along? what if...

Ashanti stopped, she felt like her mind was going to explode. Getting up, she put on her formal attire and took her exit.

Although her face looked cold and dead, her heart was very much beating with glee, as the cold breeze waved her goodbye.

 

[NubianMercenary]

*********

The mute maiden scrubbed Shakas legs and arms rather robustly, Shakas skin tensed. Besides the fact that it was a girl washing him and touching him, he didn't think he was that grubby either. I mean he had always washed or rinsed himself whenever he had the chance.

Her hand went lower.

Lathering just beneath his chest as the soapy substance dribbled itself down his chiseled stomach. She massaged the cows fat into his skin, rinsing it softly with a damp cloth and then repeating the process. The maidens' lose gown flashed a small insight to her young breasts when she would kneel to dip the cloth into the water basin, to replenish its ever-thirsty quench. Shaka avoided the temptation, only looking once on purpose, to see if she had cared for little ones.
She had not. The maiden was now fully onto cleaning his stomach, her hands seemed to travel up and down his naturally carved six-pack. Shaka felt slightly embarrassed to say the least. The maiden however, showed no emotions just wanting to do her job the best she can. She went lower still, upon reaching his naval section, Shaka could take no more of this 'touching' this disrespectful peasant was pushing her boundaries. Job or not, Shaka was no filthy child that needed a bath. No! He was a young warrior, and he knew this well.
Shaka friskly gripped her hand and tightened his grip, her hands felt suddenly small and frail. She looked into his eyes, they were hazel, but not as fragile as her hands. They seemed to be calm yet formiddable. Shaka knew no equal. Gazing deep into her eyes, he blinked not once. To his surpirse, the maiden smirked and released her hand from the cloth.
"She must be mad as well as mute" Shaka didn't care if she really was, he was power. And she was nothing more than a mute with nice breasts. Shaka started to wash himself, each circular rub hurt every limb in his body. He started to think she actually knew what she was doing. Oh well, pain was his friend. Shaka was used to it - pain, anger, grief, they gave him strength and purpose. Concentrating off his pain for once, Shaka looked up in shook. There stood the maiden, silently staring at him clean himself. Looking back blankly the maid remained mute as ever, her face as deaf as her voice.
Shaka went to tell her to go, then remembered her curse. Shaka then motioned with his hands for her to leave him in peace. She remained the same. Shakas' anger got the best of him, standing up he raised his hand to strike her. The maiden then expecting a hit as she had gotten all her life, breathed in deeply, waiting for the cold hand of hurt once more.

She braced herself.

Shaka restrained his hand, and feeling an unexpected explosion flood his soul, mind and heart. He lent forward and planted a soft kiss upon her moist lips. The maiden, shocked at what just happened pushed him back hurridly for fear they would be seen. Shaka realising what he just did, stepped back with the push. The maid felt her lips, they were even moist then before with, Shakas 'saliva-gloss' all over the bottom half of her mouth.
She stood, still in confused shock with a small hint of amazement. Shaka just stood mirroring her with a lustful smirk sweeping his face, he sat back down and commenced cleaning himself. The maid shook herself from the 'electric-kiss' and quickly left the room, her cheeks glowing red.

"Silly mute, she should know better than to kiss a prince" Shakas' prideful mind spoke to himself again. Virtually finished the cleanse, Shaka stood, fully erected and stretched his long limbs.

He smirked again, this time. A new friend called: Lust greeted him with a tight hug.


*********

Ashanti picked up her pace, the room where Shaka would be was barely ten meters away.
She had no idea why she was rushing, but her heart told her to, and she was no fool to not listen to her heart. She was nearly there.

"Yes" Ashantis' heart screamed, she would have to act strict, and she had many questions for Shaka to answer. But she was happy non-the-less. Suddenly, Lungile the mute maid came bursting out the room with bright red cheeks and a shy smile across her face. She didn't even bow before Ashanti, but rather rushed beside her nearly toppling Ashanti over.

Highly angered and slightly jealous, Ashanti erupted into the room, planning on murdering him. However, she stopped as she realised he was still finishing up his cleansing.

Shaka half naked stood up, his lean, dark, well sculpted body seemed to tease her eyes. Ashanti couldn't resist as her eyes moved fast up and down his body, racing from his muscular chest right down to his rippled abs. Shaka himself, caught off-guard, skoped her graceful legs and utterly dropped his mouth.
Both their eyes met on a battle-field of tension, Shaka broke the tense atmosphere.

"Do you often walk in on half-naked warriors?" Shaka teased.

Ashanti played along, still trying to hide the fact that she was more than mildly interested. "I go as I please, this is my kingdom. Besides, I havn't seen anything worth walking in on"

Shaka hid an exposed grin, as he pretended to continue washing his already clean body, he lifted his arm and started to probe for any 'missed' spots. Ashanti, lifting her tender arms to the sky gave out a purposely loud yawn.
Shaka pretended not to care.

Ashanti took the 'offensive'.

"So, are you going to offer me a seat? or simply wash yourself?"

Shaka retaliated accordingly - "Like you said Nkosazana (Princess), this is your kingdom. Find your own seat."

Ashanti flared a disgusted look, who does he think he is? A god? Going against her natural instinct to slap him, she found a nearby stool and sat herself upon it. Folding her dress under her, the way a princess would sit. Shaka dropped the cloth and turned to face the graceful (although rather stubborn) swan.

A good two minutes passed, as either side had the words, but not the sentences....

This time, it was Ashantis' turn to break the tension.

"Why did you leave me there to die? After, you helped me back to life?"

The question seemed too big for the situation, the words pierced Shakas' mind. Shaka opened his mouth, then slowly closed it.

And for the very first time in his life...

Shaka felt guilty.

 

[Civfan333]

is that the end of the story?