Beyond the Hago Gate: The Adventures of Zogi

By Adeola Sonola

Beyond the Hago Gate is a tantalising, historical fantasy story which will keep you gripped from the outset. The Kingdom of Harlem is ruled by the feckless King Bantu; a young bitter man who is blighted by dark secrets and terrible nightmares. Riddled with guilt and fear, he is plagued by an event which took place when he was just 16 years old a

• Language: English
• Publisher: CMD
• Release date: Feb 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781952046254

Book preview

Prologue

I t was a dark and gloomy day. King Bantu Banujala IV gazed out of the large glass window of his private chambers. He had been staring for a while, not at anything in particular—just staring. Grave lines appeared across his forehead as he walked across the room in deep thought. The King sat on his long reclining chair to rest his head; closing his eyes he began to slip into memories of the past. The face of his mother was as clear as day.

‘Bantu, it’s time to go.’

‘Mother, I don’t want to go,’ declared Prince Bantu. He kicked open his bedroom door, allowing it to slam hard against the wall. Although he was sixteen, his behaviour was often akin to that of a six- year-old.

‘It’s time to do the rounds, Bantu, and there is no getting out of it,’ his mother instructed as she walked out of his room. Prince Bantu followed her across the large decadent hallway, paved with polished ebony wood, to her bedroom chambers.

‘I’m not going!’ cried Bantu in defiance. ‘I don’t care what you say. I’m not going this time.’

‘You must go my dear.’ Shoving her shawl into her handbag—she responded without looking up. Tears began to run down his face, as usual, he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

‘You can’t make me go,’ he said sheepishly.

Prince Bantu hated completing the rounds with his parents. They walked around the Kingdom of Harlem, meeting everyone but spending time with no one in particular. He wasn’t allowed to interact with others or do anything that was remotely of interest. Bantu never asked if there was any meaning attached to the rounds; he simply wasn’t interested. For whatever reason, unbeknown to him, he was always dragged along.

‘Mother, have you seen how grey and dark the clouds are? Can’t you feel the chill?’ he continued, hugging his arms round his lean body whilst wiping the insincere tears from his face.

‘Get here this minute—and stop acting like a baby,’ snapped his mother as she made her way out of the royal grounds. Queen Barta Banujala III had lost her patience and they were behind schedule. ‘We must leave now!’ she added, pulling at Bantu’s hand.

The Queen walked briskly, dragging her spoilt son along; he snatched his hand away in protest but walked as quickly as he could to keep up with her.

They swiftly walked up the winding paths of the damp farm surroundings, the clouds were getting darker. As they walked along, the roaring sound of the wind transformed the trees into monster-like creatures that swayed to and fro. Bantu was scared.

‘We’ve never come this way before, Mother, and why on earth are we walking?’

Queen Barta didn’t respond, instead she picked up her pace and continued walking faster than before. Composing himself, Bantu began to run after her as she turned the corner. As usual, they were running late and the palace guards had already gone ahead with the King; he was never late for anything. Bantu’s mother thought that by taking a shortcut they could catch up with the King’s carriage or at very least the last of the royal guards.

Unexpectedly, they came across an old woman on the side of the path. She had deep wrinkly lines that framed a shrivelled hollow face furnished with a crooked thin nose, pale lifeless skin, and brownish yellow teeth partially covered by shapeless chapped lips. The old woman looked grotesque. The woman was tall—skinny with a giant-like frame. She wore stained navy breeches with black men’s boots that were scuffed and smothered in mud. The red soiled scarf that was tied around her head partially covered her face. Clinging to a crookedly wooden walking stick, the old woman tried to steady herself.

‘Mother!’ shouted Bantu, pointing in the woman’s direction. ‘What is that?’

Hearing his voice, the old woman peered at them suspiciously, squinting her eyes to obtain a clearer view. Bantu froze. He could not move.

‘Move!’ snapped Bantu’s mother, tugging at his hand. ‘I can’t, Mother,’ whispered Bantu with a shiver.

‘I’m stuck.’

The red scarf around her head made it look as though the woman had half of a face. Bantu noticed her picking up a brownish plate for alms as she balanced herself with the crooked stick.

He grabbed his mother’s hand and began to beg her, ‘Mother, please, let’s go—I’m really scared. You need to help me—I can’t move.’ To his surprise his mother stepped towards the old woman and placed a gold coin on the alms plate.

At that moment Bantu had had enough; he felt ignored by his mother and decided to throw a childish tantrum.

‘Mother, I said let’s get out of here!’ he shouted.

She didn’t budge.

His brown eyes narrowed as he stared at the woman coldly. He clenched his fists and started screaming uncontrollably.

‘You are nothing but a blind, ugly, evil witch. Who do you think you are? Don’t you know that we are royalty? How dare you approach us so casually?’

‘Stop it, Bantu. Do not be disrespectful!’ his mother shouted. She walked towards him intending to calm him down, but he became aggravated and continued hurling abuse.

Slowly moving forward, because of her height, the old woman towered over Bantu and his mother. She looked like a tall, thin stark elm tree that was being blown from side to side in the roaring wind. Once close enough, she roared at Bantu, displaying her stained teeth in full.

‘One day, you will feel as much pain as I do!’ she shrieked. ‘You will never have joy, you will never…’

‘Please don’t say any more, don’t curse him, he is just a boy and my only child, please forgive him.’ The Queen turned to Bantu. ‘Apologise for your appalling behaviour this instant.’

‘I will not,’ snapped Bantu disrespectfully, turning his head away from his mother and the woman in defiance. He picked up a stick lying next to his foot and flung it at the woman with so much force that it smashed her alms plate and bruised her frail skin.

‘You... are... dead!’ mumbled the woman.

Those three words seemed to hold such weight—such truth. Bantu was old enough to know that they were not mere words and his face went ashen. Struggling to breathe and gasping for air, he turned to the woman. ‘Leave me alone, just leave me alone—no one wants you here.’ He could not stop. He knew that his words and actions were wrong but it was like some uncontrollable force continued to propel the words out of his mouth.

Reaching out her right hand to grab Bantu, it seemed the further she stretched the longer her hand became. Suddenly, Bantu’s feet were free and he started to run. The old woman began hopping and limping speedily in an attempt to chase after him, she was closely followed by Bantu’s mother. Panting heavily, Bantu glanced back and saw the strange look on her face; she growled at him like a wild animal chasing its prey.

Still running—he yelled out in the hope that his mother would heed his desperate plea and catch the old woman, or at least overtake her. ‘Mother, command her to stop chasing me.’ The young Prince just wanted his mother to make everything stop; he wanted her to fix his problems like she always did. The old woman’s walking stick began to smoke and bubble, hidden by the cloud of smoke it morphed into the head of a large beast-like dragon with sharp, protruding teeth. The dragon’s head opened its mouth wide in an attempt to savagely attack the Prince. Upon sight of the monstrous creature Bantu picked up his speed and began running frantically. There was only one direction he could go and that was back down the dark, damp, winding farm path towards the Hago area.

Slowing down to catch his breath, the old woman was able to firmly grip her hands around the teenager’s neck, squeezing tighter and tighter. Her strength was unbelievable. Bantu began to choke; struggling to breathe, he lashed out, hitting and pulling the woman’s hands. She lost her hold and he was able to break free. Running as fast as he could, Bantu found himself at the