Flintock apparated to within a mile from his village. There was a small cave which he knew well as a child and was able to visualise it accurately enough to apparate in. He stepped out into the sunshine and felt the heat of the African sun on his face and the hot sand between his toes. A white guy would not be able to stand barefoot on the hot sand, but his feet were hard, as it was not his custom, even in Trymyll to wear cumbersome footwear. “Wand,” he thought and then reformed his clothing into the traditional tribal wear of his people. “Staff,” and he walked away from the cave towards the village.
He looked around at the trees and the flora and fauna he had not seen for so many years; he marvelled at its richness, he smelt the smell of Africa and filled his lungs. Trymyll, for all its beauty, did not have this kaleidoscope of vibrant colours, the deep green foliage of the trees and shrubs, or the vividity of the bird and insects. He was in many ways happy to be back, he would have felt ecstatic if it weren’t for the buzz of flies all around him. He had not missed them at all, in fact, he had forgotten all about that peculiarity of living near the equator. But no worry, he clicked his fingers, and they were gone.
He would now have to revert to his original tribal name of Funsan Njau Osei. He hoped that they would recognise him now he was an adult and that he would be accepted back into his family. He had not been ‘home’ since he left as a teenager with his great uncle, Faraji Mwita Osei over twenty years ago.
As he approached the village, he set up an impenetrable defensive field around himself in case he was met with a traditional hunting spear or even a bullet. He knew there had been unrest in the region, an unruly militia had taken over large parts of the land and he didn’t want to take chances. It would be a long way to travel just to die in the first few minutes. He had already sensed two people up ahead of him lurking in the undergrowth.
He walked only a few steps more when a young man stepped out from the bush and challenged him.
“Who are you and what do you want?” the young man asked bluntly.
“I am Funsan Njau Osei, my father is.......”
“I know who your father is, what do you want,” he said more aggressively.
“I have been travelling for many years and have returned to visit my people and my family if they are still here.”
Flintock maintained his calm, he knew that he could come to no harm. He also knew, that if provoked, he could do a lot of damage. He felt the fear and heard the racing heartbeat of the young man before him and that of his still hidden companion.
“They are alive, and they are here, but you cannot go any further; turn back and continue travelling,” he replied.
“Why? What has happened,” Flintock asked, gripping his staff tightly, “why can I not visit my family and my father?”
“It is too dangerous. There are many armed militias in the area, they steal the little money we have and burn our crops. If they find you here, they will kill you. Dead.”
“I know what killing means, but why would they do that?”
“Because they will tell from the way you speak that you are educated and from another land. They will think you will take the news of what is happening back to wherever you come from and cause them trouble.”
“If you think the news of what has happened has not reached out into the world, you are sadly disillusioned; that is partly why I have returned.”
“Well, return no longer, we don’t want you bringing any more trouble, we have enough of our own.”
“Then it is even more important I see my family. I can help and I can defend the village so no one will come to harm you.”
“And how can one man with a fancy stick save us from many soldiers with guns?” he said mockingly.
“If I told you, you would not believe me, if I showed you, it would scare you even more than you are already.”
“I am not scared, I am brave.”
“I can smell your fear, I smelt it even before you emerged from your hiding place.”
Flintock pushed the point as he knew that by doing so, the man’s fear would increase even more.
“Well, tell me or show me, either way, I will kill you if you do not turn around, I cannot put the village and my own family at risk; I have a wife and many children.”
“Okay, you have a spear, try it, try it now and see what a man with a stick can do, I have no intention of turning back.” Flintock started to continue his walk to the village.
The man raised his spear and charged at Flintock. He hurled the spear forward with all his strength, it hit Flintock squarely and firmly on his chest and shattered into a thousand pieces. Flintock continued walking as if nothing had happened. The man did not give up, he pulled out his knife and charged. Flintock caught the man’s wrist and snapped it like a twig, disarming him and putting him on the ground. The other man stepped out from behind a tree and loosed an arrow at him. Flintock just snatched it out of the air and carried on walking.
“Now,” he said, “if you don’t mind, I will go and see my brethren.”
Flintock entered the village, now escorted by his two very scared assailants, their eyes wide with fear, sweating profusely, and one with a broken wrist. It was much as he remembered it, huts made of mud bound together with straw, with reeds and leaves on some of the roofs and corrugated iron on others. They mostly had dirt floors, and smoke curled out of the crude roof coverings from the cooking stoves inside; it was how they had lived for hundreds, if not thousands of years. There were a few animals scattered around, a lean looking cow, a handful of chickens and some goats. The goats were scrawny and thin with a smell of neglect about them, a strong and unpleasant smell of abandonment, one he had not smelled for many years, one that greatly offended his now westernised nose. The village seemed empty, he could see no one. He could, however, sense that the people were there, and of course, knew the position of every single one of them, some hidden in their huts, others hiding in the trees and a few who had scattered into the scrub when they saw him coming. Did they believe that mud and straw could protect them from the bullets of the militia? In the centre of the village, there was the place of meeting, it was a large wooden structure with a roof, open walls and one chair, the chair of the chief. This is where the village elders met and where they addressed the people. He went to the centre of the building and sat on the chair.
“Summon my father and the village elders. Tell them that Funsan, son of Akua Njau Osei has returned.”
The two men ran off, frightened at what they had seen and terrified that Funsan, or Flintock as we know him, had sat in the chief's chair.
After a few minutes, elders and warriors started to appear timidly from their houses, the women and children remained hidden, they would appear only when told it was safe to do so. One big, heavy, and strongly built man, dressed in some sort of military uniform, stepped out and spoke.
“You are sitting in my chair. Move, or I will kill you. Dead.”
“First, answer me this, is my father still here?”
“Yes, he is, but he is weak. I am the strongest, so I am now the chief.”
“In that case, for now, I will be chief, because you are a pathetic excuse for a chief and I am far stronger than you, and fitter, looking at the size of that belly,” Flintock said with a mocking tone.
The man pulled out an ancient-looking pistol, raised it and shot at Flintock. He had aimed well and was on target. Flintock slowed time and caught the bullet in his hand without even flinching, held the bullet up to show him and threw it back at him. The man then ran full tilt at Flintock in a powerful rage, shouting and swearing as he did. Flintock held up the palm of his hand and the man stopped dead as if he had hit a wall about ten feet from him. Flintock then flipped his hand, and the man was thrown back about six feet, landing on his back with a groan; all the wind knocked out of him.
“Now, let us restore some order and dignity into this village. My father is the chief and will be so until he dies. You all should be ashamed of yourselves that a bully and an impostor has intimidated you. You were a proud people; you should not have bowed your knee to someone because of fear but should respect your traditions and be led by the village elders and by consensus.
With that, he stood, walked over to his father's house, and brought him out, they embraced warmly and exchanged greetings. Flintock then sat him on the chief's chair. The other elders of the tribe then gathered around him. They all had a look of trepidation on their faces, eyes darting around, left, and right as if looking for some great danger.
“Father, I have been gone for many years, travelling, as you would say. But I have not been idle, I went to England to receive an education, I no longer live there, but even where I do live, word had reached me of the sorry situation that has greeted me here. You are the chief of the peoples in this and the surrounding villages and shall remain chief until the day of your passing. You need no longer fear the local militia. I will deal with them and with any others who stand against you and our people.”
“Welcome my son, I feared I would never see you again after my uncle, brother to my father took you away from us. But now you are returned. How can you, one man, stand against many men with guns and bullets?”
“I have my ways, so fear nothing. I will keep you safe.”
The man whose wrist had been broken was sculking at the edge of the crowd, nursing his painful arm.
“Come,” Flintock said beckoning him over. He gripped his wrist tightly, the man screamed in pain, but when Flintock let go, his wrist was healed.
“Go in peace,” Flintock said quietly, “and do not mess with me again.”
That night there was a small celebration amongst the villagers. The bully king had disappeared into the bush, so with what meagre food they had, they prepared a feast to celebrate Funsan Njau ‘Flintock’ Osei’s homecoming.
The next morning, vehicles were heard approaching and the shouting of soldiers. Into the village walked the bully king and he had brought a little band of militia with him. A ragtag bunch with mismatched uniforms, armed with an array of weapons that looked like they belonged in a museum.
“These are the soldiers who placed me in charge of the village, I have returned to take back what was mine. I suggest, if you believe in any god, that you pray to him now before you meet him.
Flintock stood there with a slightly bemused look on his face.
“And how do you plan to take over again exactly?”
“That is easy, we have taken many hostages, women, and children, from this and the other Yoruba villages. If you do not reinstate me as the leader, they will all be killed. Dead.”
Flintock was seeing a pattern here, they always seemed to have to explain what killing meant as if in the western world, we didn’t know.
“An interesting dilemma. I will think about your suggestion and come back to you if that’s okay. Could you pop back tomorrow perhaps? I should have an answer by then.” Flintock said smiling at the bully king.
“No, that is not okay. Kill him,” he said to the soldiers.
The soldiers raised their guns and pulled the triggers. Nothing. They started checking their weapons to see why they would not work. When they looked up again, they were all in the middle of a great desert. Flintock had apparated away every single one of them hundreds of miles to the north and into the Sahara Desert. Only the bully king remained. He was still smiling as he had not noticed all his soldiers who stood behind him had disappeared.
“So,” said Flintock, “what is the next part of your plan? Your little gang of soldiers have all deserted.”
He looked around and was shocked to see he was alone. Meanwhile, Flintock looked inside his mind and saw exactly where the hostages were and how many. There were only about twenty, they would soon be safe.
“You have signed the death warrants for all those people we took as a hostage. They will all die now. Even if I have to kill them myself.”
“Look around again King Bully.”
He looked around and saw that all the women and children were standing behind him, all unharmed.
“What????”
“Now,” said Flintock, “what are we to do with you? Would you like to join your compatriots in the Sahara Desert? Or would you like to have a short spell in prison?”
“No, do not send me to prison, there are too many people there that I have harmed, I would not be safe there,” he pleaded.
“Okay, prison it is then.”
The bully king then disappeared and reappeared in the exercise yard of the main state prison. All the eyes in the yard rested upon him.
“You have done us a great service today my son. I am immensely proud of you, as would be your mother if she were still with us,” his father said, "I don’t know how you do what you do or even what it is you are doing, but we all thank you for it.”
“It is not a problem, come, take me back into your home, we will speak there.”
The pair returned to the chief’s house. The place was untidy with empty beer bottles and whiskey bottles lying about everywhere.
“Father, you have been having quite a party by the looks of it.”
“No! He threw me out and I had to live under the tree outside. No one could take me into their home, or he would burn it down. This is his mess. I will get it cleaned away at once.”
He clapped his hands, and several women came in with baskets and quickly sorted out the mess.
“And take away all his clothes and bedding and burn it with anything else that legally belonged to him but be careful to return anything he stole and took from our people,” his father said.
“Well,” said Flintock, “you wouldn’t get away with that in Britain.”
“Get away with what?”
“Clapping your hands and expecting the women to come in and sort out the house. I’m afraid that in the so-called developed world, things have changed an awful lot.”
“Yes, but we live in a different culture here, the men are hunter-gatherers, the women look after the crops, have babies and look after the men.”
“That would be an extremely dangerous territory where I come from,” Flintock said with a smile, “what will you do now if more soldiers come?”
“That I do not know. Can you not stay and protect us with your sorcery? I know you were driven out of the village because the witch doctor feared your power and spread bad words about you, but he is long gone, bitten by a snake he was using to cure someone. Since then, we have not had a witch doctor. Surely you could be our next witch doctor and stay here with us?”
“No, no, no. I’m afraid not, Firstly, your so-called witch doctor had no real magic of his own, he relied only on the power of suggestion. I am not a witch doctor, but a powerful wizard. We have problems of our own in Trymyll, which is where I now live. Big problems.”
“What sort of problems?”
“We have been visited by a very powerful wizard who threatened to lay waste our land, making it a barren land where not even a blade of grass would grow.”
“Could you not defeat him? You have great power from what I have seen today.”
“Yes, we have defeated him once, but it took several of us and three dragons to drive him back from where he came. But he still lives, although he is now short of his left hand which he lost in the battle.”
“Then you must return, he must be defeated and killed,” his father said solemnly, "I suppose I will have to sort our own mess out. You have emboldened me and made me realise that I have wasted too much of my life pretending I am someone else or something else. Watching you today made me see that I too must act, I too must show my hand.”
“What on earth do you mean by that?” Flintock asked.
The old man stood up and stood before Flintock, "Staff!” said his father, and he stood there, staff in hand, the gemstone set in the top pulsating with power.
“What! You too are a hidden wizard?”
“Yes, it is from me that you inherited your powers, but I have always denied my power and suppressed my inner aura, thinking that I would be better off without it and that I would get on fine. Today you made me realise that my people now need that power and I need to use it.”
“You told me that it skipped a generation and that I received my power from your father.”
“Yes, I know, but no, it was directly from me. I too am a wizard, and it’s time I started acting like one. If I had stepped up to the mark before, we would not have gotten into this mess in the first place, I could have dealt swiftly with Nuru Okoro, or the bully king as you called him, but I didn’t, if I ever meet the like of him again. I will not flinch again from my duty.”
“I will be staying around for a few more days, your magic will be rusty, and looking at the way your gemstone is pulsating, your wand has built up a lot of power during its dormancy. You will have to learn to control that power, and quickly.”
“Come, my son, I hear trucks, we may be putting it to the test sooner than you think.”
Three army trucks rolled into the village and about forty heavily armed soldiers leapt out of the vehicles. These were different, they looked like regular soldiers, matching uniforms, and modern weapons.
“We have lost a patrol, they were heading for your village with our friend Nuru Okoro, they have not returned to base. Do you know where they are?” the officer in command asked.
“No, not exactly, why do you ask?”
“Because they have disappeared, and their hostages have all vanished. I believe you do know where they are. Tell me or I will kill one person in this village every five minutes until you tell me.”
That will not be necessary, I will show you exactly where they are, come with me to my father's house.”
The officer followed him; he did not think about what he was doing because Flintock had made him believe that all the soldiers were in the tiny house. As they entered, they both disappeared and reappeared in the middle of the desert where the rest of his private militia were.
“What have you done? What sorcery is this? Take me back or I will shoot you now! Dead!” the officer shouted.
“You asked me where your soldiers were, so I am showing you. Do not waste your ammunition on me, you may need it to defend yourself. The militia in the desert is not at all friendly either.”
“I will kill you!” The officer raised his pistol and shot at Flintock at close range. Flintock had already surrounded himself with a powerful defensive field, the bullet rebounded off him and straight into the officer's arm.
“There, now look at what you have done. Don’t you people ever learn?”
The soldiers stood looking in amazement and cocked their weapons. They raised them to fire, but as they did, all the weapons including the officer's pistol, vanished.
“No, it appears that you people do not ever learn. Now your motley crew are out here without any weapons. I dread to think what will become of them!”
Flintock and the officer then disappeared again, reappearing at the hospital Flintock had known as a child. A few seconds later, Flintock was gone, and back in his father's house. He walked out of the house to see all forty soldiers high tailing away in their trucks chased by a stampede of bull elephants. Their weapons were abandoned on the ground.
“Nice move father, I see our guests are leaving already.”
As the trucks disappeared down the dusty track, the elephants faded back into the dust.
“I drew them up from the dust and now they return to the dust, their life was brief but effective.”
“Long live Chief Akua Osei!” the people shouted! “Long live Funsan, son of Akua Osei!”
“Why did they leave their weapons?”
“When the elephants came charging through the village towards them, they fired at them, but bullets cannot kill that which has no life, they also saw the bullets bouncing off me as I moved toward them; so, they threw down their heavy guns so as not to slow down their own stampede to the trucks. I don’t believe we will see them again. Now tell me, where are the other soldiers?”
“Somewhere in the middle of the great desert. I promise to retrieve them soon, otherwise, they will all die as well. Dead, as they would say. Their officer ‘accidentally’ shot himself, so he is in the hospital. I don’t think we will see him again either. He will probably be certified as insane. He was rambling about a powerful witch doctor and being transported by magic into the desert and shooting a man who would not die. I have no idea what he was on about.” Flintock said with a smile.