Counting his fingers did not work, so Jide kept track of time by paying attention to the cocks, whose voices were announcing the break of dawn. He had given up sleep since the princess brought him here and that was because his racing heart would not let his body relax. The guards might be looking for him; it was hard to tell. But Jide hopes they would not find him. Deep down, he prayed he had left no evidence or sign for the palace guards to track. He couldn't imagine what they would do to him if they find him here. And this place was comfortable, but for the...
Jide stood and dusted the straw from his body, trying to keep down the nauseating feeling. The straws were old and soaked with urine that could almost draw tears from the eyes. Looking at them, Jide could not help the thought of the decaying antelope his father had shot dead some months back. If someone had told him otherwise, he would have argued with them, but now, he was not sure. Were there no servants in the kin
The drummers and their music took the lead again, with the old women dancing in circles, following the Diviner who was behind the King’s guards and the warriors of the village. The palanquin of leaf and wood danced with the sack clothes of the hefty men who had rings, going through their nose and ears. There were six of them, dark-skinned and with scars all over their body. Each side of the palanquin held some white wool, looking sleek and smooth, it was hard to tell which animal skin it was. And, this was the first time Jide had seen a royal palanquin. It also made him wonder why the princess had decided to ride on an ostrich instead of joining the family in their ostentation of wealth, power, and prestige. Well, maybe she was different from her father. Maybe she was not as foolish as Jide had presumed initially. Golden glows herald the gentle wind that came rushing in. It was comforting. The heat was by no means backing down and the afternoon might last for another six to
She swam through the wet foliage, using her free hands to keep the wetness from her skin. It was a futile effort since the wetness drove a chill from her barefoot to every part of her body. The sun had given way for the dark clouds, and the drizzling rain was just too cold on her skin. Since she assumed the role of working on the shrine, she has not been drenched by a downpour. And that was partly because she hated the rainy season for some odd reason. Plus, her experience with these people the last two years, was not a pleasant one. Even as she walked through the familiar path, she could feel her muscle and strength turning to water. If she had her way, she would have forgotten this mission and focused on winning the hunt. That would change the world. It would change her world for good. Wining the hunt would make her the rightful heir to the throne. It would be an amazing experience. A delightful splendor crawled through her stomach and she wanted to swell with the alluring
It took one last flash of lightning for Ejima to see the empty streets. The drizzling rain had fogged into a mist but was spirited by the torches slitting from the windows. Her wet clothes were glued to her body and plunging cold into her soul. Save for the lack of water and food, she preferred the dry season to wet season. It did not ruin things and activities like this. "It's been like this all year," the muscular woman said as if reading her thoughts. "But we thank the gods for their mercies. Better to have wet season than live like a desert rat" Ejima did not respond, they had crossed the muddy parameter and were breaking away from the heart of the village. Not even a dog was outside. If the torches burning inside every house were not lit she could have sworn that this village was inhabited by ghosts. “Dry season is like its name, dry. But it's time for harvest. A time for plenty of food.” Ejima said. “Ah, what about water?" The woman asked just a
Ugomma swam through the bodies and screams of the people who kept jumping and calling out to the eleven gods. The ceremony had eaten deep into the evening, breaking the sadness that kept meddling with her soul. Nothing will remain the same, even though the happiness on the faces of these people seemed to keep the fear at bay. She knows deep down that the world would change after today. It was politics like her father would say. This was the last blow that would give the heated iron its shape. The king had pried with the affairs of the people; he had stretched his hands into a furnace and only time will tell if he will get burnt or not. Rubbing off the smell of sweat, Ugomma shouldered past some group of men who were drinking away what was left of the evening. They seemed not to care, even though her struggle had spluttered the wine on their clay mug. She didn't care either, her eyes just kept track of the red and white animal skin, bouncing back and forth on the princess's s
"This is the end of the road," Jide said and turned his attention to the girl. "I think it is time you head back to the village before your father notices your absence" "And I still think this is a bad idea," Adaku muttered, speaking for the first time since they left the village. The cloud of darkness had wrapped their teenage features, leaving the tongue of fire from the torchlight to lead the way. It was only a few hours since they left the village, yet the awkward silence seems to have stretched to eternity. With the increasing fog of darkness that hazed the parameter, Adaku could only guess how far she was from the walls of the palace. This was the first time she had risked traveling without the shoulders of the palace bodyguards. What will her father say? "We've discussed this before, Ada. This is the only way. You know it is," "I don't, Jide." Adaku frowned, "This is absurd. How can you return to that enemy village? That's the reaso
The goal was to try and frustrate her life, to take away everything she held dear, and finally bring her crawling on her knees. It was the original plan and maybe the only plan. That would keep her away from him, and set him free too. But it was harder than he had thought. All his effort to make sure he drives the nail of affliction into her struggling soul had ricocheted. If he didn’t know better, he would have believed in the supernatural forces, fighting her battles. But he was no fool. The gods do not fight for men. They only eat goats and chicken and whatever pleases their palate. And given the situation, he had offered his gifts to the gods and had sacrificed the best animal in his barn. So why have his plans not yielded fruits.“Someone chose this lovely night to be worried. Again.”Uche blinked himself back to reality. He took and kissed the extended hand before pulling the dark lady closer to himself. Her shoulde
Years have passed since Uche last saw the oscillating skeletons and the feathers that fetter his emotions. Every step forward made him reminisce about how bad an idea coming here was. That someone could live so long in isolation, with horrendous looking creature and still have their sanity was a mystery to him. He had laid so many excuses over the last few years to save himself the horror of living in nightmares and delusion. Last time was bad enough, the diviner—who was also his sister-in-law—claimed that she had everything under control and had assured him that Ejima would be a sorry story. It was soothing words for a hurting soul, or rather, the fuel in a fire. And now he was forced to lay aside his hate and work with the same woman he had sworn to destroy. The sudden crow on the right side of the road caught Uche’s attention, but he eased his hands from his sword when he saw a raven, pitch-black and looking like hell itself. It was not strange that he had seen two ravens
It took an eternity for the light of the sun to break over the horizon. She had waited for it, like a wolf, waiting to pounce on their prey, but it had delayed long enough for her anger to diminish. Plus, her husband had not returned. He had stayed with her sister and now the group was about to leave for the hunt without them. What on earth was he doing? Was he safe?Nneamaka yawned and stretched herself. It was time to play her card and if she was not careful enough, her plans were going to shatter even before they came to limelight.She tried picking the mattress but ended up breaking the loose ends of the animal skin, ruining the material. She hissed and dropped it only to curse when she accidentally knocked her water skin, spluttering the content on the dusty floor. Her attempt to save what water was left in the container was useless as the dust seemed to gulp everything. Her frown deepened, knowing that there w
Another east wind drifted through the trees and rested upon him, easing out the discomfort of the last twelve years. He shifted to the side and smiled when the golden rays that tubes from the trees' leaves, seemed to knock on the door of his eyes. Only one word came to his mind. Peace. Indeed, one does not know the value of what they have until they lose it. But it is also true that one does not know the value of what they have been missing until it arrives. Before now it was wars, killing, revenge, and anger. There have been several sacrifices to different deities and for different purposes. But now, everything has changed. It was the introduction of the divine, the coming of the king of kings that has blotted away the darkness which plagued the land for a very long time."Still enjoying the view or should I say the peace?"Jide's smile broaden as he took the cup of palm wine. It was obvious, the peace. Everyone was enjoying it
It was his only place of solace, his last resort. Even as he walked blindly through the foliage of green, the word ‘I am your son’ kept his mind awake. It was a bold claim, and for the moment, Uche could have sworn that his powers had turned into water. He wanted to run into the boy's arm and wrapped his hands around him. If Bozo was his son, then everything he had been fighting for was useless. Bozo had the kingdom and the power, which Uche could lay claim to once he took the boy in as his father. He could have amassed the boy’s riches to himself since Bozo seemed to be richer than Ame a hundredfold. That way, he would have control of the land, and everyone would bow to him. But on the other hand, accepting Bozo would also mean accepting Ejima. And that was a curse he wouldn’t wish for his enemy, not while the woman was a bag of misfortune and evil. He would rather spend his days in poverty than accept Ejima into his home again.Uche added pressure on
Navigating through the forest was not as easy as the masters had predicted. But that was partly due to the malfunctioning compass which had misled them twice. Goddison had taken charge after the third trial had failed. He was leading them now, through a path in the forest, trusting his nose and ears. Mary on the other hand had said fewer words since they departed four days ago. She had kept to herself, speaking only when spoken to. As usual, there was no age on her face, despite the scorching heat, her expression was plain, yet each time Jide looked in her direction, the woman was always muttering to herself. It was called prayer, Jide had learned from one of the masters, which made him wonder if the prayer is everlasting.Five people had embarked on this journey, excluding Ugomma and Jide. The locale in the village had provided them with horses and supplies and had bid them farewell with the grace of God. Jide had made a few friends though, a man n
She thought she heard herself screaming, but that was a thought that her consciousness did not register. Her head was heating, and the sweat that streamed from her body was like a pool. Uche was laughing now, and the triumph in his eyes only dug the anger that Ejima had harbored for the past twenty years."No, this is not happening,"Ejima panted and watched in horror as Kachi and his men, lifted Bozo out of the pit and placed him on the dusty floor. She trotted towards their direction and rested Bozo's head on her lap, using her free hand to add pressure on his wounded chest. It would have been worse, but his metallic armor had prevented some damage."I will do it all over," Bozo coughed and blood dribbled out of his mouth. His brown eyes had lost their grandness, mixed now with tears and regrets."Please, don't die. Please." Ejima cried amid the hot breath that came pouring out of her nostril. Some inches away was the pit which Uche had dug. Ghost, Bozo
He kept looking into the bright eyes, lost in the exuberance of the woman he had longed so much to meet. The past twenty years had not changed her much, just the crease that was gliding towards the sides of her face. Despite the age, her chocolate skin was almost radiating like that of a baby. Gray was the song of old age, yet her hair had failed to sing its songs. She fitted the picture he knew since he was still ten years. Nothing about her had changed nothing.She has been through a lot. Guilt crawled through Bozo's stomach triggering regrets and maybes. He should have remained here to help her. He should have found her earlier.“You are my son? You are…Bozo?”“How did you know my name, Mmechi made sure we remained hidden from the rest of the village?” Bozo said as he helped her to her feet. He could still hear the rustle and the crushing leaves, he still remembered the night when Mmechi had smuggled them out of the village, for
Cold went through her nape as she went on down the lonely path. Raining season had pathways for the harmattan wind, which fogged the treetops like the smoke of a burning bush. Until today, coming here wouldn't have crossed her mind in ages. It's been a long time and every step into the forest flushes back the memory. How long has it been? Why was the forest notorious for harboring evil?Ejima steadied her hands on her staff. The burning sensation on her side was still there and her head ached. She needed a good sleep. She needs to clear her mind. Life has indeed dealt with her, she could sense the heavy stripes on her soul and the weight crashing on her shoulders. It has always been from one problem to another, one death or misfortune to another. She was the victim. Maybe the villagers were right? Maybe the words of the Dibia were right? Maybe she indeed was a daughter of misfortune.No, that can't be. A voice assured in her head as she continued. She had not met anyon
The almond eyes flashed into Ejima's memory and instantly she could place the horny skin and the rich dark hair that had turned grey. "My goodness. What happened to you? You look-" "Old?" Mmechi laughed, "Ije Uwa. Constantly working on the farm, with the sun blistering its heat on your head could leave your hair as snow white as mine." She laughed again. "But those are the good days. It brought me here." "You look fine." Ejima smiled. The woman's hunchback was gone and even though Ejima would love to know how she didn't ask. With the misery that came with the woman's condition, Ejima decided to keep that part aside. Unless Mmechi told her along the line, she was not ready to prey out the information. The past should remain buried sometimes. "I never thought I would see you again." Ejima helped herself out of the bed. Mmechi was already lost in thought. The woman was once her servant. Ejima had taken her in after the villagers had condemned her because
She opened her eyes to the pounding noise of the mortar and pestle. It sounded distant at first, yet the tantrum on her head, registered like two stones, rubbing over one another. It was a dark room, candled by a dim light, burning wastefully by her right. Horrible-looking creatures hung on the ceilings. Skull of animals, different types and breeds. The soapy smell also made her rub her nose, she couldn’t help but think of some dead fish, left by the riverside to decay. Not that it affected her much, the headache and the occasional blurring vision left her in doubt. Maybe she had hit her head on something. It was hard to tell. But she remembered lying on the cave bed and begging Uche for her life. He had not freed her, the blood lust had driven him into stabbing her continuously with his dagger. And she had...is this the land of the dead? “You are awake.” The pounding noise ceased as an old woman appeared, smiling weakly at her. Her hands were a tendril of vein
Another wave of dust followed the marching feet as the men snailed through the mountain peaks like migrating ants. From one end of the hill to the far side on the horizon, war songs upheld the calmness that once asserted the forest. There were at least a hundred men on horseback and a thousand or so on foot. These were husbands, fathers, farmers, brothers, and uncles. Before now, they were familiar with pitchforks, knives, and other household materials. But not anymore. Years of torture and torment from the Freeborns have drilled them into valiant warriors of anger and vengeance. They were fearless and would battle anything that stood in their way. While some people in the council had argued about their brutality, the truth no one was seeing was the fact that these men had kept the land safe for the past fifty years. It was the will to keep their family and loved ones from oppression that kept them going. That love was so stronger than any force in the universe.Bozo deepened