Redemption in Indigo Read Free Page B

department, with keen, deep, sympathetic eyes.
    In the meantime, Ansige awoke and found his servants gone. He went to the hotel proprietor and was told there was a note, but then the note could not be found and seemed to have blown away. Ansige, who was not a hard-hearted man, took it into his head that his two servants had stepped out briefly and been waylaid and probably murdered by vicious city thugs. He became so upset at this picture that instead of doing the sensible thing, which would have been to inform the authorities, he shut himself up for two days of constant room service and ran up such a bill that even the generous prepayment arranged by Pei and Rahid could not cover it.
    Now you understand how we come at last to this quite different picture of a delayed, distressed Ansige departing for Makendha. He was forced to sell the mules and the majority of the baggage, partly to pay his bill and partly because he could not afford to hire anyone to take care of them on the onward journey. He did not wish to part with the horse, but the hotel proprietor convinced him that he should leave it behind to be rented out so it could pay for its own keep until Ansige returned. Pei and Rahid's plans for transport had to be scrapped. Now that he lacked a chef, he needed to get to Makendha as quickly as possible so as not to miss any proper meals.
    Driven by the mania of his obsession and blinded by the melancholy of loneliness, Ansige made his choices and boarded a five-hour omnibus to Makendha with nothing more than a small suitcase and a packet of antinausea, antacid chews. Then, because he still had quite a large amount of money, he hopped off briefly at the first stop to buy food, just in case his stomach recovered during the trip.
    * * * *
    [Back to Table of Contents]

 

    2
    ansige eats lamb and murders a peacock
    * * * *
    Semwe headed Ansige off before he could come to their door and ushered him into the village's guest lodge. For the sake of his daughter, he tried to talk as if he were really glad to see Ansige. ‘How nice to see you again. Did you have a pleasant journey?'
    It was the perfect trigger. Ansige unreeled the tale of his tribulations, thoroughly ransacking the truth and then dipping into the bag of embellishment and sprinkling with a free hand. He noted how Semwe's face grew agonised in sympathy at hearing that such a horrible experience could happen to anyone in a supposedly safe country. He was only partially correct. Semwe was counting under his breath with a kind of furious amazement at the fact that Ansige had been talking nonstop for twenty-five minutes with no more encouragement than a glazed look.
    'You must be hungry,’ he interjected desperately.
    It was the perfect distraction. Ansige choked off in midflow and murmured weakly that yes, he was indeed rather famished.
    'I have the perfect solution. Come with me.'
    Semwe led him from the lodge to the edge of his own field, where a young lamb was tethered.
    'Yours,’ he told Ansige, untying the cord and hooking the loops over Ansige's eagerly outstretched hand. ‘It will make a good dinner. Take it, tie it in the court in front of the lodge for now. I must go tell Paama you are here.'
    Off he went to find Paama and tell her about Ansige's arrival. It took him a while because Paama had already seen Ansige from a distance and didn't want to be found. Eventually she relented, to spare her family the shame of a grown daughter hiding like a child.
    'Besides,’ she said to herself, ‘if I know my husband, it will not take him long to get into very deep trouble.'
    She went to the lodge, but to her surprise he was not there. She began to wander through the village, looking for him with more duty than enthusiasm. Finally she made herself widen the search to the fields. By then twilight was deepening to dusk, so rather than go far, Paama decided she would only visit her family's lands. The moment she saw what was happening there, she clapped her hands over