Page 10

O jore watched as rain sprayed on the ground before his tent, thinking about the upcoming war. A bright fire was burning in the room to keep the night’s chill away. It had been raining heavily the past few days, putting a dent in his plans.

“An envoy from the court has arrived, my lord,” Akima said from behind him. Ojore sighed and balled his hands into fists behind his back. He had no energy to deal with the troublesome old men in his father’s court.

“My father is getting impatient.” He didn’t turn around. The bright flames danced on the side of his face. “Send him in.”

“Greetings, my lord. I have a message from the king.” The messenger bowed before him, dressed in long, dark, and drenched robes. He appeared weary after the journey from the Dembe capital to the southern army camp, where Ojore and his army were stationed.

“You are a long away from home.” Ojore turned and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew he had to be on his guard whenever he received a visitor from his father’s court. He had yet to find the assassin sent to kill him.

“The king wishes to know the progress of your assault and why you spared Prince Gane’s life. Your orders were to kill him to loosen the morale of his soldiers.” The envoy couldn’t keep the accusation out of his tone.

“Decisions made on the battlefield are a matter of life and death. I did not spare his life easily. He will serve his purpose when the time comes,” Ojore explained, holding the man’s gaze.

“Prince Gane is leading an army of four cities to attack us in the battle of the Keseve Market. If you had killed him...” the elder’s voice trailed off.

“Have I ever lost a battle?” Ojore’s quiet voice stopped the older man. He took steps forward, and the old man was wise to step back. With his back against the fire, Ojore’s silhouette appeared twice as big and more menacing.

“No, but the decisions you have been making lately have us questioning your motives in this war. You know well that the kingdom needs access to the great lakes in the south, and only by conquering Mukuru and her cities will we be able to achieve that,” the man pressed on, even though tiny beads of sweat covered his forehead.

“I have yet to forget the purpose of this war, elder. I don’t need you to remind me.” Ojore stopped inches away from him .

“I didn’t mean to sound impetuous. Forgive me, my lord.” The elder averted his gaze and bowed deeply.

“Tonight, you will rest in the camp. Tomorrow, you will leave. Tell the king I will deliver him Keseve Market and the passage to Lake Alokove.”

“Then we shall all await your good news.” The elder seemed to have something more to add, but Ojore’s harsh glare stopped him from speaking. Akima led him out of the shelter for the night.

King Kaza of Dembe Kingdom wasn’t a man to be trifled with. Ojore’s father knew of everything that happened in the army, and sending an old man that far out to the southern post meant more than just reporting the war’s progress. The king must have heard about the mysterious woman Ojore rescued. The elder didn’t ask questions, but his stolen glances toward the inner chambers of his room were obvious to Ojore.

“Is the elder settled in?” Ojore asked as soon as Akima rejoined him. Ojore moved to sit on one of the chairs by the table. He leaned forward and tapped his long fingers on the wooden table. Much like the rest of his quarters, he had no luxury, only bare necessities.

“You know the real reason for him coming here.” Akima raised his brows toward the room where Sholei was resting. Akima sat in front of Ojore and folded his massive arms across his chest, stretching his garment across his back.

“These old men know nothing about war but always accuse me of sabotaging their grand plans.” Ojore knew of the spies among his soldiers. He let them live because they served their purpose when the situation called for it. He knew the presence of an injured young woman in his lodgings would arouse many questions.

The elder came to inquire about Sholei, but he kept beating around the bush. Ojore didn’t care about satisfying his curiosity.

“We barely escaped Bondeni Valley before Gane’s army descended on us. The court envoy is correct. We would have an easier time if we killed off Gane than if we spared his life. I feel he will be a thorn in our flesh.” Akima leaned forward on his seat, his bright eyes questioning, and the single white shell on his forehead swayed with the slightest movement.

“You were present during the congregation of the four cities. You saw how he managed to sway the crowd and get the other cities to join his course. He is not a bad fighter, either. He should not be underestimated.” Ojore nodded his head. He was surprised when Gane held out for as long as he did in Bondeni Valley. The young prince was nowhere near him in skill, but Ojore knew better than to underestimate an enemy, no matter how weak they appeared.

“Why didn’t you kill Gane? Why did you stop us from shooting arrows at him? Why did you save that woman?” Akima narrowed his gaze.

“Sometimes, cutting off a snake’s head is not the best solution because two other heads will grow in its place. I don’t want to deal with several rebellious groups, but taking them out all at once would save us many resources,” Ojore explained, and Akima nodded and relaxed.

“What about the woman?” Akima paused after his question .

“She is the one who cured my arrow wound in a night,” Ojore said with a slight smile, the first one in many days.

Akima’s eyes widened, and Ojore could trace the questions in the open look. Having been through thick and thin together from a young age, Ojore had gotten a good chance to read Akima’s moods and attitudes. His friend waited for him to explain further.

From what Ojore had gathered from days of spying on Sholei in the medicine yard, he knew she had a strained relationship with the senior physician. He had been planning how to get her out of the yard for days, but a chance presented itself, and she left. Then he witnessed her getting cozy with the prince of Mukuru. The image didn’t sit well with him, but it gave him an idea, and Gane blindly fell into his trap. What he hadn’t anticipated was Sholei’s intervention in the fight and her coming close to dying from losing too much blood. Litonde, his physician, said if he hadn’t attended to her as soon as he had, she wouldn’t have made it.

If I don’t gamble my life, I can’t win . What did she mean by that statement? Ojore turned to the door to his inner room, where she recuperated. What did she stand to achieve by putting a wager on her life?

”And I can’t answer your questions because I have yet to get the answers.” Ojore sighed and found Akima’s gaze, his tapping fingers halting.

“How did she escape from our men guarding her in the caves? I mean, what did she do to them? They suddenly fell asleep, and she was gone.” Akima released a frustrated sigh .

Ojore tried to contain a smile at that. Somehow, Sholei had managed to escape his battle-hardened soldiers without a fight. From what he heard, one moment, they were alert, and the next, they couldn’t keep their eyes open. She had probably drugged them, but how? Litonde had mentioned she had used a combination of herbs potent enough to knock down a grown man in mere seconds. The Imperial Physician had been fascinated by her ingenuity and he couldn’t wait to meet her. Litonde also said she was healing well, but she needed rest. Ojore grimaced, recalling how he had stabbed her. She wasn’t supposed to be there.

“My lord,” Akima called, and Ojore raised his brows.

“I still don’t…’

“In time, Akima, I will tell you everything. Inform the generals that we have a meeting in the morning. Let’s get this war over and done with.” Ojore got up and dismissed Akima.

Sholei’s eyes flew open, her heart thumping in her chest, her breathing ragged. The bright light in the room almost blinded her. She raised her hands to block the offending brilliance, but sharp pain cut through her stomach, stealing her breath away. Her eyes adjusted to the light, and she tried to figure out where she was.

The room was quiet, but muffled voices reached her from outside. Burning lanterns adorned the high wooden walls. She was not in the medicine yard. She was lying on the softest bed of furs and covered with the lushest blanket. She didn’t know what the material was made of, but it was smooth, and it felt comfortable against her skin. A foreign, spicy scent clung to the bedding. The smell was calming. The room was sparsely furnished, but from the arrangement, it was clear that the owner was a person of means. The bed design, the small table at her bedside, and the gold-plated cutlery hinted at wealth. The tangy scent of herbs assaulted her nose. Someone had been feeding her medicine.

She raised the covers and noticed a thin cloth around her wound. Her clothes were different too. Her worn-out cotton dress had been replaced with smooth, colorful silk embroidered in intricate patterns. Sholei never dressed in silk. Then everything flooded back: the battle in Vipingo Gorge, Prince Gane falling, and Ojore, her captor, stabbing her.

Where was she? Did Gane survive? How long had she been unconscious?

“You are awake.” She snapped her head toward the deep, drawling voice. Ojore. Sholei hadn’t heard him come in.

He stalked in like a wild cat and leaned against the wood door frame, his arms crossed over his massive chest. He was dressed in pleated black attire tucked into a belt around his lean waist, the material stretched past his long legs to his feet. A loose, light, matching coat draped on his broad shoulders. The thick belt at his waist held a strapped knife. Sholei wondered if he went anywhere without a weapon.

The rich hue of the black color lined with gold stripes added to her suspicion that the man before her came from wealth. His sculpted legs were encased in black animal hide boots peeking underneath the luxurious robes. Not everyone could afford such footwear. She ran her eyes back to his face to confront the obscure looks he sent in her direction. He had let down his long locks, and they now framed his angular face. The overhead lantern cast a warm glow on his skin, making his sharp features appear like a predator in the dark. Sholei swallowed. She felt like trapped prey at the mercy of a hunter.

She threw the blanket back over her body and clutched it close to her chest, instant pain hitting her. No man had ever seen her in such a state, and having him look at her so casually rubbed her the wrong way. What was it with this man and his indecipherable looks? Wait, was he the one who changed her clothes? Sholei panicked. She tried to move from the bed, but her wound protested.

“Easy, you are yet to heal.” In two long strides, he was by her side and called for someone behind his back. He pushed her back under the covers and ignored her hands as she tried to drive him away.

“This time, you won’t get away as easily as you did from the cave, witch.” He tucked the covers to her neck, his dark gaze on her. His scent wafted to her nose, spicy and fragrant. Just like the bedding she lay on. Was she in his room? His bed?

“Stop calling me a witch.” Sholei’s anger rose as she tried her best to ignore the warmth he emitted. “What happened to Prince Gane?” she breathed.

At Gane’s name, he stopped and frowned at her. “Is that all you can think about? You almost died because of him.” His voice was low, and his jaw muscles ticked .

“Did you kill him?” The words came out labored. Prince Gane couldn’t be dead.

“What do you think?” He tightened his hold on the blanket, his face inches from hers, his deep brown eyes glinted so hard they almost turned golden in the orange torch burning above them. “I warned you at the cave to forget about him.”

“He can’t be dead,” Sholei whispered through gritted teeth. “Prince Gane is someone who values loyalty. He will soon come for me.” Sholei hoped her hard gamble would pay off. She had proven her loyalty to Gane, and her mind chanted the words. “He will come for me.”

“Is that why you jumped in front of my sword? Risking your life to carry his favor? Does your life mean so little?” His hands tightened on her shoulders, as he pressed her down on the bed.

“What would it mean to you if I lived or died?” Sholei asked. “With Prince Gane’s death, my dreams die too.” Sholei gambled everything away; if Gane died, that would put a dent in her plans.

“My lord, you called.” A timid voice came from the door, and Sholei broke her gaze from Ojore to the young girl standing by the door holding a tray with a steaming bowl, her eyes downcast. Sholei tried to break free from Ojore’s hold, feeling embarrassed having been caught in such a compromising position, but he held on, his gaze still on her.

“Your medicine is here.” After a hard glare, Ojore released her and straightened his tall form. “I am impressed with your daring escape from the cave, but that won’t happen again. You will not be able to drug hundreds of soldiers inside this camp like you did before, so don’t try.” He removed imaginary lint from his robes, and Sholei sat up, ignoring the pain in her stomach.

“You are a war captive now. Better act like one.” With that, he left the room in a huff, and Sholei sat up, ignoring the pain. She tightened her fists into balls. A war captive? He didn’t even answer any of her questions. His arrogance infuriated her, but underneath all that, she was scared. What had happened to Gane? What would happen to her?

The girl by the door approached Sholei and offered the bowl. Based on her bright, youthful skin, the girl didn’t seem much younger than her. The tangy scent of herbs wafted to her nose.

“My Lady, your medicine is here.” She knelt beside the bed on the animal skin that adorned the wooden floor, dressed in a short, blue cotton gown, the material stretching from under her arms to above her knees. A simple beaded waistband wrapped around her midsection and her hair was plaited in neat braids intertwined with blue beads.

“Why do you address me like that?” Sholei asked, looking at the stretched bowl like it contained poison.

“If I don’t, the Prince will be displeased with my service.” The girl didn’t raise her eyes to Sholei’s face.

“The Prince? Ojore is a Prince?” She repeated her question, her eyes widening as she glanced at the door he had gone through.

“Yes… he is the first son of the King of Dembe,” the girl answered, unsure if she was revealing too much .

The news came as a surprise to Sholei. How come the son of a king had such a battered body? Ojore must have led a difficult life if he survived such extensive injuries—a prince with scars, unlike Prince Gane, who barely sported such extensive wounds despite being a war chief in the Mukuru Kingdom. She willed Gane to survive. Even if he didn’t, she had to find a way to escape from Ojore. She would find a way back to her old life, to Musembi and Tula. From there, she would carve another plan to get to the Faye Islands.

“My Lady?” the girl called, raising curious eyes at Sholei.

“Call me Sholei.” Sholei took the medicine from her hand and placed it on the stand beside the bed.

“I can’t. Courtesy does not allow me to do so.” The girl shook her head, and her gaze lowered again. Sholei had never had someone serve her, and it was unsettling to have a girl kneel in front of her and formally address her.

“What is your name?” she changed the direction of her questions.

“I am Mueni, and I was brought here to be your servant.” The girl beamed when she said that, taking pride in her role. “It is the first time I’ve left the capital.”

“Mueni, are you from the Dembe capital?” Sholei pried for more information.

“My family has been serving Prince Ojore’s maternal family for generations. I was brought from his household,” she explained.

“The Queen of Dembe is the mother of Ojore?” Sholei digested the information. Tula always said that information was power. If she planned to escape, she had to learn more about Ojore.

“Prince Ojore was born by a concubine, Lady Sahara. Though the king has several wives who bore him sons, Queen Nnandi only had one child: Prince Kengani, Ojore’s second brother.” Sholei found that Mueni was quite talkative when she relaxed. Ojore, the war general, was a Prince of Dembe, hence the haughtiness and arrogance around him. She scoffed.

“My Lady, you should count yourself lucky. This is the first time our prince has taken a woman…” Mueni smiled at her, trying to appease Sholei. Sholei didn’t miss the affectionate way she referred to Ojore as our prince .

“I’m not his woman,” Sholei refuted, feeling angry and embarrassed at the same time.

“I am sorry for overstepping my boundaries.” Mueni bowed, her slender shoulder shaking, and Sholei felt bad for reprimanding her. It was not the girl’s fault that she was in such a predicament.

“Get up and sit beside me.” She helped the reluctant girl to sit on the bed, biting her tongue as pain shot through her. “Why do you think I am… his woman?”

“He…” Mueni stammered, unsure of her words. “He kept vigil beside your bed for the days and nights you were unconscious. It is obvious to everyone that you are special to him. Even the soldiers in the camp can tell he treats you differently.”

“He did that?” Sholei couldn’t imagine the fearsome man taking care of her .

“He had the physician get the best medication for you,” Mueni went on. She relaxed the more she conversed with Sholei.

“I didn’t know.” Sholei was confused. Why did Ojore bother with her? Wasn’t she a captive of war ?

“You are lying on his bed,” Mueni added, confirming Sholei’s suspicions. “By now, everyone knows that Prince Ojore has taken a woman. He is yet to declare it, but it is well implied.”

“I can’t stay here any longer.” Sholei felt the space around her narrowing. What if Prince Gane heard such despicable rumors? Would he be willing to save her? She stumbled out of bed and tripped on the bedding wrapped around her feet.

“What is wrong, My Lady?” Mueni caught her before Sholei tumbled to the ground.

“Please don’t call me that,” Sholei whispered, trying to catch her breath. The sudden movement sucked the air out of her lungs.

”My Lady, please calm down.” Mueni tried to stop her from stumbling to the door, but Sholei managed to push her away. She was determined to leave the room, but her wound throbbed painfully. She could smell the scent of blood. The wound had opened. Sholei crashed in the middle of the room with Mueni right beside her. Sholei couldn’t stop tears from flowing. She hated the feeling of helplessness that engulfed her.