The nearest inn beckoned him. The only thing he wanted right now was something hot and filling and a comfy bed for the night. The wanderer was about to enter the building until he saw something in his periphery. Two men with a young woman. The woman whose hands were tied with course rope, resisted heavily as she was being dragged by her arms by both men. Other onlookers on the street gave the trio a wide berth, some turning their heads away acting like nothing was happening.

  “Stop defying us, woman,” said one of the men in a thick Bugandan accent. A stocky man of average height with milk to dark chocolate-coloured skin. His facial features were a mix of Nilotic and Bantu and he had a buzzcut hairstyle. “You belong to the master now.”

  The other man nodded. Compared to his companion, he was slightly taller but had a slightly slimmer physique. His skin tone and facial features were similar to his companions but he had short dreadlocks. “Don't make it harder for yourself and have us carry you over one of our shoulders. Have some damn dignity.”

  Like the onlookers, the Bambuti wanted nothing to do with the trio. It wasn't his problem. The only thing he needed to tend to was his hunger and fatigue. Besides, a man of his talents and position never gets involved in petty local and political disputes. Yet, why couldn't he take his eyes off the young woman?

  Was it because of her beautiful ovally, heart-shaped face, high rounded forehead, large dark brown almond-shaped eyes, small nose with flared nostrils, full lips with a medium-sized mouth and large healthy teeth, high yet soft and fleshy cheekbones? Was it her cornrowed afro hair? Was it because she was just under six feet tall and had legs that didn't seem to end? Was it her elegant frame of narrow shoulders, waist and hips? Was it her young ripe body equipped with pert breasts and a perfect peach of a bubble butt that begged to be admired and eaten, figuratively of course? Was it that her deep dark skin, free of any blemishes, shined in the sun and looked almost edible to anybody with a sweet tooth? Who could say?

  “This isn't your problem. Don't get involved. Let it go.” The thoughts repeated within the Bambuti's head.

  Seeing the young woman grimace and being defiant only accentuated her beautiful face. The brain is rational but many times the heart will override it. Maybe a healthy compromise between the two parts. Just ask the trio what's going on between the three of them. No harm in asking. What's the worst that could happen?

  The wanderer made his way to the trio.

  “Hello there,” asked the Bambuti. “What's with this situation?”

  “Stay away, little one,” said the young woman, her voice sweet, soft-spoken and almost childlike.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “You heard her, get lost,” said the average height man.

  The drifter went ahead of them then blocked their path.

  “Surely you can answer my simple question,” said the Bambuti. “Why am I prodding the leopard?”

  “Please, little one, just go. You don't want any part of this,” pleaded the woman. Her grimacing face had turned to one of concern.

  “Piss off, boy or I'll kick you up the arse. This doesn't concern you. Now run home,” warned the taller thug.

  “Boy? I'm no boy. I'm a man. And one far older than you realise, young'un,” replied the Bambuti.

  The woman shook her head. The wanderer shouldn't have said he was a man. The thugs' eyes narrowed. Their hands reached for their weapons. Many wide-eyed onlookers on the street gasped. Whispers and murmurs of concern flooded the streets.

  “That was the biggest mistake of your entire life,” said the tall brute. “Any man that interferes with Bwana Siwatu's business will have to pay the price.”

  “I'm sorry but who is Siwatu?” Asked the wanderer, feigning interest.

  “Forget it. He clearly doesn't have any idea who you guys are. Just leave him al--,” pleaded the woman.

  “Shut up, woman,” interrupted the tall hoodlum. He pulled out his rungu from his belt and unsheathed his mean looking curved dagger. “It's too late for ignorance. This little bug has to be taught a lesson on who runs this town.”

  The crowd grew larger and gathered around the fiasco.

  “Why did I have to get involved in this shit?” The Bambuti thought.

  There was no use in talking it out any longer. The foolish ruffian wanted a fight and assert himself on the little man... Big mistake. It was time to put on a show for the crowd and show who the Bambuti truly was.