The Song of Mawu. Jeff Edwards

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СКАЧАТЬ laugh of delight from the President’s brother as Joseph Lattua continued, ‘We will use you to show how far the mighty can fall. Everything you have is now confiscated by the State. Everything is forfeit, every last coin, every last cow, every last blade of grass. It’s now all ours to do with as we wish.’

      ‘And we shall start with your family,’ laughed General Lattua, gesturing to his men. ‘Leave your weapons outside,’ he called to them, as the eager soldiers made their way toward where the women and children had been imprisoned, ‘We don’t want to risk one of them getting their hands on a gun while you’re entertaining them.’ The men laughed at their leader’s joke as they unslung their utility belts and propped their weapons against the wall of the house.

      ***

      As the sun rose to its zenith, the horror of what was happening around him became imprinted indelibly upon Chand Zibu’s brain. The screams and groans of agony from the women inside the house left no doubt as to their fate, and tears of anguish and frustration coursed down Zibu’s cheeks as he struggled fruitlessly to free himself and go to the aid of his family, while around him the bodies of his co-conspirators were now covered with flies that had been attracted by the smell of blood from the corpse’s open wounds.

      Now, not even the sound of Mawu’s lament could be heard over the wailing and occasional scream of blood-chilling finality.

      Gradually the noise from within the house abated, as the soldiers drifted outside once again, adjusting their clothing as they emerged before collecting their weapons.

      ‘Finished sergeant?’ General Lattua called to one of his men.

      ‘All done. None left,’ nodded the man.

      ‘Excellent work brother,’ smiled President Lattua. ‘What about the farm?’

      ‘It could become a symbol of resistance as well. Best if it ceased to exist. My men will be able to use the livestock and any equipment but the rest should go.’

      ‘See to it. I have my yacht waiting for me in Lobacra, and there are some French whores in Monaco who need to be taught how to enjoy themselves.’

      ‘I’ll see you when you return then.’

      ***

      By late afternoon Chand Zibu was alone. The bodies of his friends had been unshackled and thrown inside the house, which was now well ablaze.

      Everything of value had been loaded into trucks and the farm’s livestock had been herded away by some of Zibu’s field workers at the point of the soldier’s guns.

      The heat from the burning house dried the tears in his eyes before they could form, and the acrid smell of burning flesh seared the back of his throat

      In the silence of the deserted countryside the sound of Mawu’s lament returned, and joined in with his sobs of woe.

      1

      During the truly bad times Joseph Lattua, the ‘President for Life’of Namola, had occasionally imagined he could hear Mawu’s song of lament, but tonight was not one of those times. The cards had gone his way and the money he had won on the previous two evenings had been added to considerably by tonight’s efforts.

      Joseph Lattua thought of himself as a very good card player, just as he imagined that he was a very good President and administrator. Everyone else knew he was none of these things.

      The President’s success at the tables had been due almost entirely to the fact that he had been in possession of more money than his opponents and had been able to up the ante on his bets, until the opposition had been forced to drop out for lack of funds. Certainly not because they had worse hands, because, most of the time Joseph Lattua had nothing and was bluffing his way to a win.

      He smiled to himself as he counted the chips stacked on the table before him and took a sip of a cocktail which the prostitute who stood behind his right shoulder had ordered on his behalf. The scantily-dressed waitress was much to his liking and Lattua wondered if she too were for sale.

      Probably not, he thought to himself as he watched her walk away. The tips to be earned in this casino would make spreading her legs unnecessary.

      ‘What are you looking at her for?’ asked the blond prostitute with annoyance, ‘Aren’t we enough for you?’ she added, pointing to her red headed companion.

      Joseph Lattua leered at the woman, reached for her hand and dragged her toward him. He placed her captive hand between his legs. ‘I have more than enough for the two of you,’ he sneered.

      Knowing the overweight black man was worth a fortune in fees, the blond prostitute rubbed at his crotch and smiled impishly at him. ‘You’re always too much for only two. Perhaps you’d like a third to join us tonight? I have a friend that would love to experience your wonders.’

      Joseph Lattua knew the woman was lying and merely trying to extract more money from him but accepted the compliment with a grin. ‘I think two of you will be more than enough.’ The woman’s hand was having its effect on him. One more hand? he asked himself. No. I can always come back later.

      He smiled at the dealer. ‘I’d like to cash in my chips. I have other matters to attend to.’

      The dealer smirked at Lattua as he noted where the blond woman’s hand disappeared beneath the table and guessed correctly what she was doing. He made up Lattua’s account and handed him a chit for the total of the chips.

      Lattua tossed a couple of low denomination chips to the dealer and left the table with a decided bulge in his trousers. The pair of high-priced prostitutes followed in his wake.

      He liked the idea of hiring women with skin and hair colours that differed as much as possible from the women in his own country. The variance intrigued him.

      At home he had the choice of many women, and did so on many occasions but the skin colour and kinky black hair palled on him after a time. He was always looking for new experiences and anything to break up the monotony of his life. That was why he had begun paying for the services of two women at a time. Perhaps, he thought to himself, the woman’s suggestion of a third playmate might prove to be just the thing to pique his jaded fancy. Maybe I will try three bedmates on my next trip to Europe.

      He watched with anticipation as the two women walked ahead of him and climbed into the rear of his limousine with their micro minis exposing an impossible amount of bare thigh as they did so. As the luxurious vehicle pulled away, Lattua placed his hand on the red headed woman’s knee and slid it higher as the woman spread her legs to accommodate him. The long vehicle edged into traffic and headed toward the port but the trio in the rear were already too engrossed to notice.

      Lattua placed his free hand around the shoulder of the blond and slid his hand down over the ample breast that was almost fully exposed by the tight, low-cut dress. He found the woman’s nipple and began to massage it to hardness.

      The blond woman responded by placing her hand once more upon his trouser front and rubbed delicately at his rising manhood. She glanced over at her friend who responded with a knowing wink. The more excited that their wealthy ‘friend’ became, the sooner that he would reach his natural conclusion and the sooner that they could collect their fees and go home.

      ***

      The trip to the dockside was a short one and before Lattua СКАЧАТЬ