In Search Of The Peacock Throne

Speculative Fiction by Frank Sonderborg

We were in the Wicklow mountains. Six of us sitting beside a blazing log fire on a cold winter’s night, in an old An Oige Irish Youth hostel. We’d just heard the story of, ‘The Irish Nagual.’ From Seamus, an old Irish folkie. He was there just to entertain us. Sing songs we all enjoyed, as the fire warmed our souls. Seamus had spun a grand tale of Cartels and Shapeshifters on his trip along the Mexican border. It sounded so unbelievable we were stunned into silence. I sipped on my whiskey and stared into the fire. Then Razor said, “Docherty, tell them your story.”

This brought me back to the present. We were six adventurers. Having a break from our jobs and wives. Playing cards, spinning tales. Each one had a strange tale to tell. Every year we met up in the Wicklow mountains and tried to outdo each other with tales of Deering-do. Now it was my turn. And I gathered myself to retell this equally unbelievable tale.

I was made for adventure. I joined the Irish Army at eighteen. Made special forces selection and served in the Irish Army Wing for ten years. Left, and got bored doing security work, so I enlisted in the French Foreign Legion.

Was that a massive mistake, more than likely. It was a brutal learning curve. But it made me fluent in bastard French, Arabic, plus Swahili. The Swahili was very important to this story. Swahili serves as a lingua franca in Eastern Africa. So equally as important as the Queen’s English.

Having done my time in the Legion I left and went looking for more adventure. I was signed up by Niklas Tellus, the so-called richest man on the planet. One of his hobbies was scouring the earth looking for buried, lost, or just stolen treasure.

It’s a very expensive hobby. But Tellus, the man who had given the world self-driving cars, planes, rockets and deep space Asteroid mining, had vast cavernous pockets. He interviewed me personally for the job. In his Palace in Joburg South Africa. And spun a tale of adventure. He outlined his recent search for the treasure ship, ‘The Grosvenor.’

The Grosvenor was a 729-ton, three-masted ship. Returning from Ceylon to England. Belonging to the British East India Company. It sank August 4, 1782, off the coast of South Africa, near Lwambazi Bay. The cargo included 2.6 million gold coins, 1,400 gold ingots, and nineteen chests filled with emeralds, rubies, and sapphires.

And it also carried the thing Tellus coveted the most. The Peacock Throne, the fabled jewelled seat of India, that symbolized the power of the Mughal Empire. And Tellus being a bit of a modern-day Mughal Emperor himself, wanted this for his vast collection. And possibly to sit on, when he made his numerous Mughal Empire world changing business decisions.

But my job was general security. One of hundreds he hired and fired at a whim. I assumed, I was getting hired to protect his recovered gold horde. So, I paid very little attention to this tale. He wasn’t really interested in my tactical nous. Or even my military background. What lured him to me was my knowledge of Swahili. I suppose the combination of all my bits and pieces added to my CV.

He just asked me a couple, of very odd questions.

“Was I ever afraid?”

My answer to that was, “of course, you show me a man that’s never been afraid, and I’ll show you a liar and a fool.”

Then he asked, “what was the situation where you were most afraid?”

“Some operations in Mali went Scary Mary. Yea, a lot of brown pants time there.”

 “Are you afraid of the supernatural?”

“No, though I’ve seen some very odd and weird things in Somalia and Djibouti. People that just disappeared with no trace. But if I have a loaded gun. I’ll take my chances with the natural way of the world.”

Tellus seemed happy enough with my answers. Then he continued. “My manager in charge of things down there at the site is Linda le Strange. She’ll fill you in when you get there.”

She was waiting in the Tellus HQ at Lwambazi Lodge. Along the wild coast of South Africa’s Eastern Cape. Helicopters were flying in and out. It was a hive of activity.

Linda le Strange was a young, willowy looking female. Incredibly good looking. As would befit a Tellus acquisition. She sat behind her large conquistador wooden desk.

I knew it was a conquistador desk, as it was the first thing she told me after I introduced myself.

“Sean Docherty, new security, just in from the Palace.” I’d learned that term pretty quickly if you wanted Tellus stuff done in a hurry.

“It’s from Manila, in the Philippines.”

“What?” was my surprised reply, “from where?”

“This desk I’m sitting behind, it’s a conquistador desk. Rumoured to have belonged to, Miguel López de Legazpi himself.”

“I’m sure he’s happy it’s been recycled to good use,” I said.

She got out from behind the desk and offered her hand.

“Linda le Strange, CEO of operations here, and everywhere along the Eastern African seaboard for Tellus Enterprises.”

“I shook her hand. “Sean Docherty, ex Dog Soldier and newly hired general roustabout for Tellus Enterprises.”

“Dog Soldier! Is that a joke? Or did you know about your special assignment,” she said, without smiling.

This confused me. “Special assignment? I was under the impression I was hired for general security.”

“No, you’re here to look into a special case for Mr Tellus.”

“No matter,” I said, “as long as he pays the rent, I’m his man.”

She handed me a folder, “read it, and get to work.”

I was led away by a servant to a spare HQ desk. And settled down to read my special assignment.

It was labelled, ‘The Peacock Throne,’ and had a large, ‘Top Secret,’ stamped on it.

Tellus had a major ongoing diving operation recovering the gold bullion from the shipwrecked Grosvenor.

But they couldn’t find his coveted Peacock Throne. Then one night his ship was attacked. It was a modern ship with modern security. But somehow, someone or something had come on board. It killed three security guards. And two of the divers. The description of the attacker was to say the least, very sparse and inconsistent. It was dark, they said. The attacker moved too quickly to be seen. It was wielding a sword.

It was also, they said, covered in fur. Docherty smiled and thought, Bigfoot on board, Sasquatch takes to the seas. Obviously, some very scared people are making up outrageous stories to cover their ass. Some gold bullion was stolen. An insider job?  Tellus declined to involve any outside agencies. The deceased employee’s families were paid off. A Tellus internal directive stated that the perpetrators must be found. A million-dollar bonus was allotted to any information which led to the capture of these local bandits.

Tellus hoped to break the wall of silence that had been created by these killings. Everybody was convinced it was local bandits or pirates that had attacked the ship. The ship’s crew was fired and replaced.  Docherty sighed. How was he supposed to get any information from the old crew, who now had been spread to the wind. Docherty was no gumshoe but needs must. He put in a request for the names and addresses of the fired crew members. The captain, it seemed, had returned to Norway. The rest were spread all over the world.

He set up a Zoom call with captain Magnus Magnussen. Magnussen had nothing new to offer. Security had been tight. Whatever came on board was quick and deadly. No, there were no on-board cameras. He personally had seen nothing. Just heard the commotion. Yes, he did know one of the crew that may have seen something. The ships cook. A Filipino, Liam Rafael, who used to work for the US Navy. He was still in Africa. Working at some hunting lodge in Kenya. Had an Irish father. If that helped.

Docherty thought that the Irish father may be a break he needed. He packed and headed for Kenya. Rafael was employed by the Tsavo Majestic Lodge. Licensed to kill. So, a magnet for those big spending Oligarchs with a passion for killing animals. Docherty managed to get some down time with a very busy Rafael.

“I heard your dad was Irish. We have that in common,” I opened with.

“Cut the crap, what does Tellus want? He fired me for doing my job. Nearly ruined my reputation. I owe that shit nothing,” was his fiery reply.

“Look, I’m only the piano player here. I’m looking into what exactly happened back then. Tellus went a bit off the rocker. As he is not used to not getting his way. Maybe he was a bit hasty in firing everybody, before he found out, just exactly what happened.”

“I told them what happened. Nobody would believe me!”

“OK, so tell me, again, in your own words what happened.”

“Last time, understand.”

I said, “Yes.”

“It was late, and I was getting everything for the watch to change over. The morning watch would be coming on, and late watch going off, and both expecting their food to be ready. I heard a commotion outside, shouting then shots from an automatic rifle. The lighting went out all over the ship.”

“Wait, the lighting went out. That is not in any report,” I said.

“No, it would point to a grievous error by the Captain, I suppose.”

“Go on.”

“I could hear the screams of the security guys and some of our sailors, which is when I stepped out of the galley.”

“And saw?”

At this Rafael stopped and looked away. “You will not believe me either.”

“It’s my job to collect information. Just tell me what you saw.”

“A cat, it looked like a large cat. But it wasn’t a cat. It was human. Or looked more human than a cat. It stood up-right. It was very hairy.”

“Now that is weird,” I said.

“It gets weirder though.”

“How so?”

“She was wielding a long sword. Using it to kill our security guards.”

“A female cat with hands wielding a sword. A She Cat?”

“Yes,” said Rafael, “definitely a striped cat. With very sharp teeth. She moved like the wind. Was gone in an instant.”

Docherty thought this was a waste of time. Total nonsense.

Rafael sensed this. “You don’t believe me, do you!”

“Would you? In what universe would there exist a striped She Cat, wielding a sword,” I said smiling. “Are you sure what you say you have seen,” I asked, giving him time to retract this ridiculous story.

Rafael just got up and left.

Docherty headed back to his hotel in Nairobi. A busted flush. Back to the drawing board. Tellus will not be happy. That evening he was having dinner by himself in the hotel restaurant. The waiter was from Tanzania. And introduced himself as Juma. While making conversation Juma asked if he had had a good day. Docherty just laughed at this. And added, “if you call meeting a man who saw a She Cat wielding a sword, being a good day, then yes.”

“Oh,” said Juma, “he met the Mngwa, he’s lucky to be still alive to tell the tale.” Then he moved off to another table.

Docherty was still half shocked by this exchange. Gathered himself and waved for Juma to come back to the table.

“The Mngwa, Juma. Tell me everything you know about this Mngwa thing.” And he placed $100 on the table.

“Certainly Sir,” said Juma. As he slipped the note into his pocket. He told the legend of the Mngwa.

According to lore, the Mngwa cat had shapeshifting abilities. The ability to move with uncanny stealth and possibly vanish at will. Legends suggest it can mimic sounds like animal or human cries to lure prey. It was also known as Nunda. The Mngwa is bigger than a lion, with a broad muscular striped body, and a thick tail. It’s said to live mostly alone, hunting humans and livestock. Juma had been raised on these legends in the coastal town he had grown up in, called Lindi. But he himself had never seen one.

Docherty thanked him for the information. Then retired to his room where he started looking up this Mngwa cat. What he found out disturbed him. Tellus had believed the stories. Which is why he’d hired Docherty to confirm them.

Docherty returned to Lwambazi Lodge to discover there been another attack. This time on a small local boat that had been fishing over the treasure diving area. Three men were dead and one in hospital.

Linda filled him in. “Thieves, that’s what they were. Trying to steal a few gold coins from Mr Tellus. And they paid the price.”

Docherty went to the hospital and managed to interview Lomo, the frightened survivor.

“It came up out of the water. A She Cat. It had a sword. It killed Charlie, Bobo and Mundy. Nearly got me. I went over the side.”

“A She Cat?”

“Yea, I have proof. I took a pic,” said Lomo.

Docherty agreed a fee for the camera with the pic. It had a blurry image. A snarling striped She Cat waving a sword as it came over the side of the boat. It seems they all had been telling the truth. There was something else in that picture that caught his attention. He went back to his hotel room and enlarged the image. There was another boat out at sea. This must be the boat the She Cat had come from. He zoomed in. There was an image on the sail. A spear across a circle. And Docherty had seen it before. And very recently.

Docherty knew he was being played. Tellus was playing a game of Texas holdem. With all the cards. Docherty was holding nothing. He’d been sent down this road to shake the trees. There must be another team working parallel to him. Ready to swoop in and finish the game.

There was a parked car out front watching his hotel. Docherty left by the back entrance, grabbed a taxi and headed for the HQ. He wouldn’t have that much time when he arrived. They’d start moving as soon as he entered the building. The lights were still on in the CEOs office.

He felt the danger as soon as he laid eyes on her. Along with the antique conquistador desk, the walls were lined with paintings of Spanish Galleons, and of yachts and boats with billowing sails. One of them, he had noticed, had the same spear across a circle, as the She Cat boat. It was the same boat.

Docherty looked a le Strange, “Why? Why all the killing? What was the point.”

Linda le Strange stood up and walked over to the painting. It’s my father’s boat. We are followers of Parvati. The Indian Goddess. And we could not let that monster get his filthy hands on, ‘The Peacock Throne.’ As for the killing. It’s just the nature of the Mngwa beast. It’s what I do.

“Mngwa,” I said, “is Swahili for Strange. Such an obvious giveaway. And Linda/Lindi. I should have picked up on that much sooner. Tellus suspected but wanted proof. So, he let me fumble my way to it. I suspect he will pack you away in his menagerie or traveling circus exotica. He is, after all a collector of weird and exotic things.”

The noise of the thugs arriving in the building was soon filling the air. The door burst open and six black clad specialists poured in and started firing darts at the CEO.

Who no longer was a CEO, but a very large, striped sword carrying She Cat. Docherty dropped down and hid under the conquistador desk and watched the Mngwa go to work. Slicing through the Kevlar armour designed to stop fast moving projectiles. But no help for a fast-moving razor-sharp broad sword. No mercy was shown. She toppled their heads and split their armoured bodies wide open before they could react. Then she turned, looked at Docherty. And he thought he detected a smile?  Then she was gone.

Tellus closed up all his diving operations and the Lwambazi lodge. Docherty was paid his bonus and let go. No words were exchanged. Case closed.

Nothing was leaked to the press. The Mngwa story was buried.

His friends in the hostel just held their breath. As the story ended.

“What happened? What happened to the She Cat?” said Razor.

“No idea,” I said, but I’ve heard rumours, that when she’s not slaughtering innocent villagers in Tanzania. Every evening, without fail, she goes and sits on The Peacock Throne and dreams a dream, of Sean Docherty.”

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Bio: Frank Sonderborg was born in Dublin, Ireland, Shares his time between the UK and Spain. And does his best to write interesting stories. His stories have appeared in: Action: Pulse Pounding Tales 2:, Noir Nation 3: Noir Nation 5:, Pulp Modern JFK Issue #6, Pulp Alternative, Shadows and Light:, Thrills, Kills ‘n’ Chaos:, ShotgunHoney, Twist and Twain. The Yard: Crime Blog, Punk Noir Magazine, Talkingsoup. The Copenhagen Post.

Cover Photo by:pexels/Dara

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