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DEVIL'S TAVERN: Serial 001

The four-wheel-drive jeep cruised along the ever dusty roads of Marshante and clouds of dusts drifted all over the ambience. The leaves danced to the tune of the breeze occasioned by the speed of the vehicle. The large number of mud-filled holes that had etched themselves on the road necessitated the driver to slow down each time he had to avoid a pothole. Various footpaths adorned the sideways and a few toddlers were playing on a hill at a distance.

The sky over Marshante community was already darkening and in no time, the illuminating crescent would take over. A bevy of ladies walked gracefully down the footpath to the community stream while a hawk flew overhead bearing a lifeless duckling to its nest. Smoke emanating from different huts stained the skyline. A petite woman was frying some beans balls near the community grammar school, her shrill small voice reverberated round the area as she advertised her product. A number of people clustered around the sweating woman, waiting to be attended to.

Two defiant Billy goats were locking horns with each other at a farmhouse while a nanny goat with a large tummy waited nearby. Apparently, the billy goats were in a tussle for who gets the attention of the nanny goat. A group of about ten men were on the farm harvesting a surfeit of cassava tubers. The driver changed the gear and the Jeep Renegade coasted up the hillside, to be welcomed by a noise of worshippers at a church, accompanied by heavy clapping and energetic drumbeats.

The car wheeled through the community centre which houses the Community Hall, Health center, bar, borehole and other structures and in a few minutes, they were back on a lonely and bushy path. Darkness was fast descending and the nocturnals were already out of their hideouts, an owl hooted at a nearby tree. At a particular junction to a footpath, Professor Maurice ordered the driver to stop the engine. The tall and heavily-built don alighted from the car with his two orderlies and started to trek down the footpath, leaving the driver alone with the car.

After about ten minutes of walking, the trio got to a little stream that overlooked a cluster of small buildings uphill. They crossed over and made for the buildings. As they approached the thatched buildings, they were greeted by various kinds of bones, especially skulls, carelessly strewn across the path. A dirty smoke scurried up an encampment in front of the buildings and two strange looking men approached them.

"On a mission to where?", one of them inquired.

"We are here to see the Captain", Professor Maurice responded.

"For what in particular?"

"In desperate need of his help", Maurice replied dismissively.

They were eventually ushered into an expansive compound of about eight separate buildings and were shown into a guest room where four solid sofas were waiting to be seated on. After a few minutes of familiarization with the mode of operation and code of conduct in the cult, Maurice was taken alone down to a tastefully furnished underground apartment to meet the lord Roland, the Captain of the Nitingo Militia Cult. 

Maurice waited for another six minutes before lord Roland sauntered into the room with intimidating arrogance. The man was as grave as possible, his looks were fierce and piercing, his carriage was with a lot of charisma. At the time of his entry, a sentry clapped thrice and all occupants of the room including Maurice rose to welcome him. The fearsome-looking man noisily settled down after which he asked others to have their seat.

Roland then fixed Maurice with a piercing look before requesting from him the reason for his coming.

"Yes, lord Roland, I am here for nothing but the upcoming 2001 elections. My friend, Governor Makkido told me about you. At first, I was taken aback and became skeptical about coming here, you know what we know Nitingo Militia for is to clear and unclear territories. I really couldn't figure out the usefulness of your organization in political affairs but he insisted, saying you would be of great help to my Presidential ambition."

Roland laughed mockingly before he gave Maurice a reply.

"I've never met an ignoramus like you in the whole of Penthurst. I'm really surprised to hear you talk like this because everyone knows the NMC for executing the most Herculean of tasks. It is just that we've not seen a serious politician in this country who wants to oust Marcopolo. They lacked the boldness but I'm happy you came to the right place for help. We shall be willing to do anything, I mean anything for you to become the President"

"Thank you, lord"

"In what areas do you think we can be of help?"

"Uhmmm...areas of spiritual fortification and militancy".

Roland paused for a while before speaking,

"What you've asked for is not hard. Your friend, Makkido, was here in 1997 and he specifically requested for power, influence and you know... our incendiary activities and we delivered as promised – no shortcomings. He likewise did not default in the agreements. Makkido becoming the Governor wasn't by chance, we made it  possible by spiritual means and the physical provocations against the former Governor and his administration. Prof, are you ready to pay the price?"

"You name it."

"Prof, for your information, this agreement is extraordinary and it shall be signed in blood!"

"Calm down, lord, you need to expatiate on that blood issue, I've never killed in my life."

"You asked for spiritual fortification and insurgency against the present administration, then, you will have to swear to the blood oath of the NMC. You’ll become a special member and shall be mandated to renew your membership covenant every two years"

"Lord, this membership issue is somehow, can't we circumvent that route."

"Prof, go ask Gov. Makkido. He is a member till date and he has never defaulted in paying his dues, every six months."

"So, what does he pay as dues?”

"Two young ladies under the age of twenty. Wait! You thought he just became Governor? No, he sacrificed at the appropriate quarters and you too can do it. Yes, you can." Roland said assuringly.

Maurice cursed Makkido under his breath as the lord continued. “We will need a generous sum of money to carry out far-reaching attacks and you will need enough fuel to power your candidature."

"Money shouldn't be a problem now, what I'm confused with now is fuel. What is that exactly?"

Roland broke into a derisive laughter before replying.

"Blood is the fuel here Prof. You don't have it, you kiss your ambition goodbye. Now listen, how do you explain the mysterious auto crashes on the highway and unaccounted for disappearances now and then? The victims are getting converted to fuel somewhere." Maurice remained mute.

"And don't be quick to forget, the sitting President had been there for twenty-eight long years and nobody has been able to unseat him. Can you see why you need a hybrid of spiritual and physical machinations to get him out? Prof, you need influence, you need an irrepressible voice such that whatever you say stands. For your information, your case is a lot different from Makkido's. He had a governorship ambition, yours is presidential and you know what that means; greater price, more strategies, more funds and indeed, more blood!", Maurice had never heard so much emphasis placed on blood. His heart skipped a beat. 

"Let's get it simplified, how do I go about all this?", Maurice inquired.

"Initiation first, you have to pledge allegiance to the great god of the NMC and henceforth, we shall be fully committed to your course"
Maurice paused for a while before responding.

"Lord, you need to give me some time to gloss over this and come back when I've thought things over."

"That is not a problem, but everything that happened here must remain a secret."

"You can trust me.”

Roland then motioned to Maurice to pick up a white handkerchief lying on the centre table and wipe his face with it three times. Maurice reluctantly did this, bowed to the lord and was soon on his way out.

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