Part VI: The Aftermath
The resistance lasted a total of one day before meeting the same faith as the great army. On the morning of the attack, the city was covered with dust and littered with blood and limbs. Corpses laid bare on the ground while vultures feasted upon them. The defeat had unexpected consequences for the emperor. He’d hoped to die during the conflict, however fate decided otherwise. Wounded and tied up the emperor was undressed and sat atop a pile of corpses as a lesson for his hubris. King Phillip had even more disturbing plans for the emperor and his people. All of those apprehended during the skirmish were to be sold into slavery. This was to give him the satisfaction of knowing his foes will live to remember the error of their ways. In the case of Mali, king Phillip insisted the emperor be kept alive to share the same fate. Over fifteen thousand Malians were sold into slavery as a result of the war. Those who survived scattered across the desert hoping someday Kaya Maga will return to bring them back home.
The perilous journey to the seashore lasted five days and nights. Without drinking a drop of water, many people perished in the caravan; carcasses left along the path to rot in hot sand. Although hazy, Kaya Maga could recall seeing Samory Koulibaly walking away with the white men’s leader after the fight was over. So he assumed Samory must have been the traitor. The thought of such a close betrayal haunted his dreamless nights. As he tottered through the desert, he wondered why such a trusted advisor would help destroy the empire. The cause of the treachery may have been due to the decision to make Sembema the military chief. Being a high born, the trusted advisor may have felt demoted and underappreciated. To him, Sembama may have been nothing more than a peasant and the appointment could have appeared insulting.
Upon the fifth day, the caravan reached the coast. Fresh breeze, waves smashing against rocks, positively intoxicating smell of fresh mud and white sand assaulted Kaya Maga’s senses. As he sat in the sand, tangled with other slaves, waiting to board the big wooden vessels, the beauty of the beach quickly subsided to the gravity of reality. The boundless suffering around him was unbearable. Women and children all strapped together like cattle ready for slaughter. The lucid dreaming was soon interrupted by the sound of lashes sweeping across his back and neck. The pain took a few instants to kick in due to the brain muscle time lag, but when it did the feeling was similar to getting hit with hundred knives tied to a rope. The cuts on his back reopened wider.
Still in grave pain, Kaya Maga looked up and saw a black slaver screaming.
“Are you deaf? I said get up and move!”
With his whip the man pointed toward canoes meant to transport them on the superior vessels anchored farther at sea. Chained to the others Kaya Maga embarked on the canoe, looking back one last time at his beautiful land. Silently promising to find a way back. The emperor had lost everything except for his imperial ring he’d swallowed during capture.
