rustling enthusiasm of the tribe all around him.
Dook had explained it all to him. All was as had been prophesied for generation upon generation. T heir living god would lead the tribe to become the chieftains over all chieftains…
Manassa continued. “I told you that past the horizon, where the sun sets, lies a land ruled by the white man, a land of untold riches and plenty. Though we know of them, they know not of us. We are but a speck to them, a termite, an ant. They know not that their living god walks the earth today. They fear not the Chosen Tribe.
“But today, Manassa has made the white man his slave, has made the white man to recognize the living god. For today, the white man, the Jesus-man-no-more, Edward Styles, is healed!” He dramatically pulled aside the bamboo reeds. The white man exited the temple.
The priest stood resolutely, every muscle in his body tense. There was no sign of his head injury. Tien had seen Edward’s body in the clearing after the panther fight. There was no way he could be standing so soon; no human could recover so quickly. White demon. He is here to work his witchcraft on our g od. He wished he knew what Manassa was saying. It would help him kill this demon.
Tien felt a fluttering in his stomach, the same that he got while on the hunt. A part of him wished the white man had never shown himself. He did not want to have to perform. I must not fail. Dook had promised to kill him if he failed. Tien gripped his knife’s reassuring handle. To succeed was glory.
“I am healed!” shouted Edward, also in traditional Onge. “I am grateful eternal ly . I renounce my God and my ways.” Edward took the cross hanging from his neck and broke it off its necklace. He threw it to the ground. “Manassa, you are my god, the only living god on earth, with the power to change nations.”
Tien slid the dagger from its sheath . Odd the priest was throwing down his necklace. Perhaps he was working some kind of spell. He was always wearing that strange cross. Why is Manassa permitting him to do his magic?
Tien launched through the rows of onlookers. They resisted his surge instinctively but he pushed through. Finally, he was in the open, stumbling forward, the white man within his reach. He leapt to plunge his knife into the kneeling priest’s back.
In a flash, Manassa interposed himself in front of the white man . Tien couldn’t stop his momentum. Manassa chopped the knife out of Tien’s hand before it reached him. Oh, gods, thought Tien. I attacked our god!
“TIEN!!!” shouted Manassa.
Tien collapsed on the ground, trembling. He sensed the eyes of the Onge upon him.
Manassa loomed over him. Tien felt his shadow. It would be nothing for Manassa to shove the dropped dagger into his head. He’d seen what Manassa had done to the panther.
“My child!” shouted Manassa. “Think you a dagger can stop a god?” It was in that old Onge tongue, again. Tien risked looking up at him. Manassa narrowed his eyes.
“I…” Tien mumbled. He looked back down at the ground. “I don’t know what you’re saying, my lord,” he mumbled in vulgar Onge.
“My child,” Manassa said, matching his dialect. The god sized up Tien and the silent crowd. “You didn’t hear my words, unmindful of the tongue of our ancestors. Others have heard my words, however, and still they disobey. For them there will be no mercy.” Manassa’s eyes locked with Dook’s, but only for a second. “ I thank you for your service and your heart, but this white man recognizes me now as his god.”
Manassa glanced over at the white man. He was shaking heavily. Perhaps he ’d gone into terror over the assassination attempt.
“The white man is now my chosen servant,” continued Manassa. “Let it be known that he is higher than all mortals, for he is the first of foreign lands to recognize the
Dook had explained it all to him. All was as had been prophesied for generation upon generation. T heir living god would lead the tribe to become the chieftains over all chieftains…
Manassa continued. “I told you that past the horizon, where the sun sets, lies a land ruled by the white man, a land of untold riches and plenty. Though we know of them, they know not of us. We are but a speck to them, a termite, an ant. They know not that their living god walks the earth today. They fear not the Chosen Tribe.
“But today, Manassa has made the white man his slave, has made the white man to recognize the living god. For today, the white man, the Jesus-man-no-more, Edward Styles, is healed!” He dramatically pulled aside the bamboo reeds. The white man exited the temple.
The priest stood resolutely, every muscle in his body tense. There was no sign of his head injury. Tien had seen Edward’s body in the clearing after the panther fight. There was no way he could be standing so soon; no human could recover so quickly. White demon. He is here to work his witchcraft on our g od. He wished he knew what Manassa was saying. It would help him kill this demon.
Tien felt a fluttering in his stomach, the same that he got while on the hunt. A part of him wished the white man had never shown himself. He did not want to have to perform. I must not fail. Dook had promised to kill him if he failed. Tien gripped his knife’s reassuring handle. To succeed was glory.
“I am healed!” shouted Edward, also in traditional Onge. “I am grateful eternal ly . I renounce my God and my ways.” Edward took the cross hanging from his neck and broke it off its necklace. He threw it to the ground. “Manassa, you are my god, the only living god on earth, with the power to change nations.”
Tien slid the dagger from its sheath . Odd the priest was throwing down his necklace. Perhaps he was working some kind of spell. He was always wearing that strange cross. Why is Manassa permitting him to do his magic?
Tien launched through the rows of onlookers. They resisted his surge instinctively but he pushed through. Finally, he was in the open, stumbling forward, the white man within his reach. He leapt to plunge his knife into the kneeling priest’s back.
In a flash, Manassa interposed himself in front of the white man . Tien couldn’t stop his momentum. Manassa chopped the knife out of Tien’s hand before it reached him. Oh, gods, thought Tien. I attacked our god!
“TIEN!!!” shouted Manassa.
Tien collapsed on the ground, trembling. He sensed the eyes of the Onge upon him.
Manassa loomed over him. Tien felt his shadow. It would be nothing for Manassa to shove the dropped dagger into his head. He’d seen what Manassa had done to the panther.
“My child!” shouted Manassa. “Think you a dagger can stop a god?” It was in that old Onge tongue, again. Tien risked looking up at him. Manassa narrowed his eyes.
“I…” Tien mumbled. He looked back down at the ground. “I don’t know what you’re saying, my lord,” he mumbled in vulgar Onge.
“My child,” Manassa said, matching his dialect. The god sized up Tien and the silent crowd. “You didn’t hear my words, unmindful of the tongue of our ancestors. Others have heard my words, however, and still they disobey. For them there will be no mercy.” Manassa’s eyes locked with Dook’s, but only for a second. “ I thank you for your service and your heart, but this white man recognizes me now as his god.”
Manassa glanced over at the white man. He was shaking heavily. Perhaps he ’d gone into terror over the assassination attempt.
“The white man is now my chosen servant,” continued Manassa. “Let it be known that he is higher than all mortals, for he is the first of foreign lands to recognize the
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