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I n the days that followed, Sholei was depressed. She didn’t see anyone besides Mueni, who kept her company and provided her with her daily needs. She stayed inside the room and didn’t venture out. Ojore didn’t appear again, but at times, his deep drawl drifted from the outer room.

He visited her late at night when he thought she was asleep. He moved around the room, his alluring scent filling the room space. At first, Sholei was scared about what he would do. But her fears were put to rest when he didn’t try anything apart from tucking her in, tracing his calloused fingers against her cheek, or just looking at her. After a while, he would leave.

“My lady, you have to take your medicine.” Her medication, like everything else, was delivered on time.

“Mueni, I wish to walk outside today,” Sholei said after gulping down the bitter liquid. The servant girl beamed, glad Sholei had come out of a miserable state.

“Let me get you dressed. It has been chilly in recent days.” In addition to the quality medication she received, Sholei had an endless supply of the finest clothes, thick furs for cold nights, and fitting boots. When did he take her size? Mueni assured her Ojore ordered the clothes from the Dembe capital. Sholei wasn’t comfortable in fine embroidery, but she couldn’t walk around naked.

Mueni placed a heavy white fur coat on Sholei’s slender shoulders and helped her out of her room. Sholei braced herself to face Ojore in the outer room, but he wasn’t around. Sholei didn’t know much about war, but the wide space screamed battle with its equipment. Gear of every kind lined the high, dark walls, and maps of the region lay on the table. A miniature clay structure resembling the plains’ layout was molded and mounted on the farthest end of the room; underneath it was folded bedding.

“That is where the general spends the night,” Mueni explained, following Sholei’s gaze. Sholei’s heart beat faster. She didn’t know he slept so close to her every night, separated by a thin wooden wall. Something about it caused her stomach to flip.

Sholei could tell why Dembe’s army was formidable when she stepped outside the general’s quarters. As far as her eyes reached, tents upon white tents spread in the open field. In the far distance, hills loomed, offering cover. The camp was enclosed in a valley, hiding it away from intruders .

It was early morning, and the campsite was rife with activities. Soldiers ran up and down in formations, their weapons glistening in the early rays. She thought these men must spend months away from home, unlike back in Mukuru, where the training was periodic and the camps were closer to the palace. Back in Mukuru, she had seen soldiers training, but never with such intensity. The soldiers barely looked at her and resumed business as she walked around. Remembering how Mueni told her they thought of her as the general’s woman, she wished to turn back and hide, but she pressed on. She had to learn about her surroundings if she ever wanted to run away.

Weapons of every type lined the walls against an expansive training pavilion in the middle of the camp. She didn’t see Ojore during her walk, and relief washed over her as Mueni told her that the general was attending to other duties outside the camp. Sholei couldn’t care less if she never saw him again.

“They start training early in the morning. They hardly rest,” Mueni explained.

The men wore black pants that reached their knees and loose white shirts. Steel armor finished the regalia. On their feet, they wore knee-high animal skin boots. Leather belts were strapped around their waists, and they held various weapons. Those guarding the high watch towers were also dressed in full body armor. The men were tall with impressive physiques. Sholei racked her brain for how she would escape such an environment. It didn’t help that her wound hadn’t healed yet. She wouldn’t get far with such an injury .

A distinct tangy scent wafted to her nose, originating from a tent at the far back of the camp.

“Do you have a medicine yard around here?” she asked Mueni, her nose in the air.

“That is where the physician cooks your medicine.” Mueni nodded her head.

Sholei changed her direction toward the tent with Mueni fast on her trail.

She came upon a large tent secluded from the others. At the entrance, she found rows of beds made of wood and blankets. The space was wide and airy, on the wall was an extended work table full of all sorts of medical equipment, different sizes of mortars and pestles, and sterilized instruments, and medicine pots used to cook herbs. On the walls and high on the roof lay dried roots, leaves, tree bark, pastes, powders, and fruits used in medicine. Sholei closed her eyes and inhaled. For a second, she could see and smell the medicine yard back in Mukuru.

Only one bed was occupied by a soldier with a head injury. He appeared to be having a fitful sleep, with beads of sweat coating his forehead. He’s running a fever . Sholei observed his symptoms, moving to his side.

“Shouldn’t you be lying down?” a curious voice said before Sholei could reach the patient. She turned and instantly schooled her features not to appear so surprised.

“You are an albino,” Sholei said. Much of the man’s body was covered in attire similar to the soldiers outside. His arms were exposed, and his unique skin tone contrasted with his black pants.

He was much older than her, closer to Musembi’s age. She bent her head in greeting according to Mukuru traditions. Mueni had explained some essential customs in the Dembe Kingdom, but Sholei wasn’t keen on learning them. Besides, their cultures weren’t so different. Sholei assumed she wouldn’t get to use them if her escape plan went through.

“Even though you’re the general’s concubine, that isn’t a kind way to address an Imperial Physician,” the man chuckled at her, reciprocating her greeting with a slight bow. She ignored the snide comment and the amused glint in his light eyes. Sholei heard about people with albinism but had yet to meet one. Rarely was a child born albino and allowed to live. Sholei thought the practice was cruel. Those children were seen as bad luck by the community. She was amazed by the man before her.

An Imperial Physician? Sholei stared at the man, her mouth gaping open. Had she taken medicine prepared by a physician from the Academy of Imperial Physicians? With small steps, Sholei approached the man.

“You were trained by the Academy of Imperial Physicians of the Faye Islands?” she asked, her voice squeaky. He raised a pale eyebrow at her.

“I have an insignia to prove it.” He retrieved a small round white marble and tossed it into her hand. Sholei ran her fingers over it and felt the engraving of the water waves, the Academy’s symbol. Graduates who passed through the Academy carried the pendant as identification.

Words failed her as she gazed at the one thing she wished to have with all her life. No Imperial Physician in the capital of Mukuru gave her time or space. Then the man took the small stone back and tucked it into his robes .

”My name is Litonde, and I am the head physician in this camp.” The man walked to the bedside of the injured soldier. He held a small medicine bowl.

“You were the one preparing my medicine?” Sholei found her voice.

As a physician, Sholei was impressed by Litonde’s skills before meeting the man. It was no wonder he was a graduate of the Faye Islands. She had been hesitant to take the medication until she learned of the contents. The military camp had some high-quality ingredients. Musembi would have a heyday if she came upon their supply.

“Seeing that you are walking around, I think I did a good job patching you up.” He didn’t look up as he talked and started feeding the patient the medicine. Sholei still couldn’t believe she was in the presence of someone so esteemed.

“Thank you so much for your help. I will not forget it.” Sholei bowed, grateful to the man for preparing her medicine. Physicians felt appreciated when patients expressed gratitude.

“Don’t go jumping in front of swords next time.” He spoke low, as if he didn’t want her to hear, but Sholei caught each word. His statement caught her off guard, reminding Sholei that she was in an enemy camp.

The patient he was feeding spit out the medicine and started thrashing on the bed, his long arms flailing. Sholei ran to the other side and felt his temperature. Litonde watched, his eyes sparkling with interest.

“Can you think of a way to reduce his temperature?” Litonde asked her .

“Have you tried a steam bath? He has a high fever,” she answered, her hand on the man’s forehead. The patient’s skin was hot and clammy. Then she remembered she wasn’t in the medicine yard and stepped back.

“Why are you backing up? Go on, what about his fever?” The older physician raised his bushy pale eyebrows at her, his hands on the man’s shoulders.

“A steam bath with herbs might lower his temperature,” Sholei explained, feeling the man’s erratic pulse at the base of his throat. Sholei went on to name different herbs to be boiled together.

“How do you know that?” Litonde leveled his eyes at her.

“I have treated these symptoms before,” Sholei went on, encouraged by his keen listening. “Mueni, get me a bowl of water and a clean cloth.” Mueni jumped into action, rushing toward the work table.

“The general said you worked in the medicine yard back in Mukuru. It must be true then,” Litonde said. Sholei wondered how much Ojore had revealed about her background and why.

“Sholei.” Sholei opened her eyes to Ojore sitting beside her. In the low light of the torches, his sharp features softened. For a second, she stared at him, mesmerized. He was dressed in a long dark robe that covered his broad shoulders and he held a robe, preparing to tuck her into bed like he did back in his residence .

It took her a moment to remember she was in the physician’s tent. It was night, and the campsite was quiet. She gazed around. No one else was about.

“What are you doing here?” Sholei sat up. His spicy scent blended with the cool evening air.

Ojore’s dark eyes gazed down at her, and an unreadable expression crossed his face. He tried to reach for her, but Sholei scooted back on the bed, her back against the wood wall. He let his hand drop and stood.

“Mueni said you don’t wish to return to the general’s quarters?” he went on with his deep voice, filling up the space between them like a warm cover.

“I won’t be returning to your quarters,” Sholei stood. She felt small sitting down while he towered over her. If she ever planned to escape her captivity, keeping her distance was the first step. She couldn’t achieve that if she lodged in his chambers.

“You would trade comfort and security for a cold place?” He frowned and glanced around the mostly empty room. Only one bed was occupied by the patient she had attended to earlier. The steam bath had worked, and his temperature went down. Sholei fell asleep as she monitored his condition.

Ojore towered over her. He didn’t appear as threatening in the dim light. Water dotted his muscular chest. Sholei noticed. He tied his wild hair on top of his head and shaved his stubby beard. She wanted to run her hands against his cheeks to feel the texture of his skin. The thought came out of nowhere, and she wanted to slap herself to chase away her errant thoughts .

“I have been raised inside a medicine yard since I was a child. The place you refer to as cold, I call home.” She cleared her throat. Living with Musembi was not always easy. The daily comforts of life came as rarely as the blue moon.

“I can’t guarantee your safety if you stay here. I trust my men, but I can’t be completely sure you will be protected.” Ojore wrapped the robe he held over her shoulders. Sholei swallowed as heat licked her where his fingers touched her skin.

“Protect me?” she focused on his words and ignored how her body warmed under his touch. “You can always let me go back to Mukuru.” She took a step back, away from his intense presence. But he held fast.

“Very soon, your Mukuru will be part of Dembe. I have saved you from witnessing its downfall,” Ojore stated, dragging Sholei close to him.

“You don’t expect me to thank you?” Sholei gritted her teeth and looked up at him. She was so close she craned her neck to look at his face. With his fist on the cloak, Ojore tugged her closer until a breath separated them. If she leaned in, their chests would touch. Sholei blinked rapidly.

“If Gane and the others lay down their weapons and pay tribute to my king, I promise no life will be lost.” Her heart missed a beat when she heard Prince Gane’s name. He was still alive. She had a chance of survival.

“What if they don’t surrender?” She glared at him, dreading the answer.

“Then their fate is sealed,” he answered, a cruel smile stretched his lips. “I told you I don’t take hostages. ”

She stumbled back from his harsh tone and Ojore reached for her, catching her by the waist and pulling her toward him. She rose on her tippy toes. This time, their bodies touched, and Sholei recalled their time in the cave and how she always ended up in this position with him. His scent surrounded them and his clothes were smooth against her palms as she was held against his dark cloak.

“Why would you feel any mercy for them after the way they treated you?” His voice softened, and he angled his head. His mouth was close to hers, and Sholei wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked.

“How do you know about that? How long did you stalk me? They are still my people, and not all treated me poorly. Prince Gane…” her voice came out rushed as she tried to grab hold of her scattering wits. What was it about Ojore that was affecting her so?

“Do you think he will take you back after learning you have spent time in my rooms?” His hand tightened on her waist, and his deep voice lowered even more. “Sleeping in my bed?”

With force she didn’t know she could wield, she pushed him away. Ojore let go of the cloak on her shoulders and it fell on the floor, the dark cloth pooling at their feet.

“He wouldn’t believe the lies you’re spewing,” Sholei whispered.

“Gane will believe what I want him to believe. An irrational man makes desperate decisions,” Ojore answered, taking a step back and giving her room to breathe.

“You are using me to rouse him? Again?” she realized. “Is that how the Dembe fight their wars?” With a distance between them, Sholei could think clearly .

”We are at war, and you are a mere pawn. I will use you however I see fit.” Ojore smirked, reaching for her again, but she stepped back.

“My lord, we are ready for you.” Akima cleared his throat behind Ojore as he came through the entrance. He barely looked in her direction as he handed Ojore black gloves. She searched around, trying to locate Mueni. Where had the girl disappeared to?

“Don’t plan any escapades. You won’t be able to get away like last time.” This time, he tipped her chin up with his black leather-gloved hands. The material cooled her heated skin. “I will never let you get away from me again.”