Page 18

A t dawn, Ojore woke her up, and they resumed their journey. On their journey back, they didn’t encounter the assassins from the Sokwe Society again. While she felt a twinge of sadness as she left the grasslands and returned to camp, Ojore couldn’t neglect his duties for too long.

Neither brought up the kiss Sholei replayed in her mind over and over again.

Mueni greeted her with a wide smile as soon as the horse stopped by the stalls. Akima took the reins as Ojore climbed down. His eyes shifted between Ojore and Sholei with silent questions neither wanted to answer.

“Make sure that Radi is well taken care of,” Ojore instructed a stable boy before he turned to Sholei. “Later in the day, I will send for you.”

Ojore reverted to his usual indifferent demeanor, speaking with little emotion and a passive tone. With a curt nod, he turned toward his tent, Akima on his trail. They conversed in low tones. If Sholei didn’t know better, she would be convinced she had spent the day with a different man. A prince, a war general, and a worldly traveler.

The man who stole her first kiss.

“The journey must have been worth it.” Mueni cleared her throat and diverted Sholei’s attention from his spear-sheathed wide back.

“I witnessed a Dembe wedding and made a new friend,” Sholei said.

“You must be talking about Princess Ngele. She’s the princess closest to Prince Ojore,” Mueni remarked and followed Sholei to the medicine camp. She told Mueni about the wedding and avoided the kiss that burned in her mind. Mueni asked her to rest before she attended to patients, but Sholei directed her to the medicine camp. Working put her mind at ease.

She stopped at the entrance and found all the beds occupied. When she had left, the room was almost empty. The injured soldiers from the war had been treated well and healed.

”What happened?” Sholei asked. Soldiers clutched their stomachs in discomfort. Litonde moved from one bed to another as he administered medicine.

“Last night, we lost five men.” Mueni’s voice was heavy and Sholei’s stomach dropped.

“They died?” Sholei approached the nearest patient. His forehead was covered with sweat .

“You are back.” Litonde noticed Sholei’s presence and came to her side. Dark circles underneath his pale eyes.

“How come we have so many patients?” She moved to the next patient and felt the temperature of the soldier who lay still. Her blood ran cold as she felt the chill of his lifeless body. Dead. What kind of illness swept through the camp in a day?

“They complained of stomach aches. I prescribed medicine, but they came back with worse symptoms. We lost several yesterday. I am afraid if we don’t find the cause, we will lose more.” Litonde’s lips pressed in a thin line.

“This man is dead,” she whispered to Litonde, but other patients caught the statement. Audible gasps rent the air from the other sick men in the room. Sholei had dealt with some deceased bodies back in Mukuru. She understood the urgency to dispose of his body to prevent the spread of whatever afflicted the camp. Dead bodies carried numerous contaminants.

”Where are the other bodies?” Sholei plucked her coverall from the wall, and Mueni helped her put it on top of her riding robes.

“Out in the back, waiting to be buried,” Litonde answered, a grim look covering his face. His shoulders slumped.

“We must burn them. Delaying it will only spread the disease further. Who else came into contact with the bodies?” Sholei reached for roles of white bandages.

“I understand you want us to get rid of the contaminants, but according to Dembe customs, we must conduct funeral rites,” Litonde objected, his deep eyes wide .

“If we don’t find the cause of their deaths, we will lose more. “Burning the bodies is a preventive measure.” Sholei took several white sheets and turned to Mueni.

“Cut this into smaller strips and give them to the men. They must cover their faces when coughing. The disease might be spreading through the air.”

Mueni nodded.

“We need the general’s approval,” Litonde said.

“Do as she says.” Ojore’s voice boomed as he walked inside the tent. “Akima, organize the burning of the deceased men. We’ll conduct their burial rites posthumously,” Ojore instructed with a grim voice. Akima nodded and left the room.

Sholei approached Ojore. “It’s not normal for men to die from a simple stomachache and cough. We must find the source of this ailment.” She handed him a strip of cloth and demonstrated how to tie it around his nose and mouth. Her eyes lingered on his lips for a moment, and her breath hitched when his gaze bored down on her.

“Akima has briefed me on what is going on. Will you work with Litonde to find a cure for the poison?” Ojore cleared his throat, and Sholei tore her gaze from his.

“We should check the water source and food storage. The camp’s supplies might have been compromised. We need to clear everything out, and those who came into contact with the sick men should be isolated.” Sholei found her voice again.

“Litonde?” Ojore turned to his Imperial Physician.

“It’s possible, General,” Litonde answered with a slight bow .

“Then make haste. One soldier’s death is one too many.” Ojore’s jaw ticked as he glanced around the room.

“General, we have arrested the two intruders within the camp.” A soldier rushed inside.

“Take them to the training pavilion. I will question them myself.” Ojore instructed, and Sholei wondered who’d be crazy enough to break into the guarded camp.

“They might have information about the poison. If we find the components, we can concoct an antidote.” Sholei suggested when Ojore turned to leave.

“I’ll send a message to the court. Our supplies have been compromised. We need fresh food and weaponry. Empty the stored water; we will fetch it directly from the source. Every soldier must be alerted, and send out spies to gather information on the alliance’s movements.”

“The alliance?” Could the alliance be behind this? Prince Gane?

“We can’t rule them out,” Ojore said as his gaze settled on her. “We are at war, and they will use any means possible to secure victory.”

“The most urgent thing we need to do is find the source of the infection,” Sholei reminded him.

“I believe you will cooperate with her,” Ojore turned to Litonde. “Her word equals my orders.” Sholei felt both empowered and speechless by the trust he placed in her.

“I will try my best.” She bowed as he left.

“We are awaiting your instructions, My Lady,” Litonde said, a half-smile lifted the tired lines on his face.

“We will begin with burning the dead bodies. The sick should be isolated.” Sholei peeled her eyes back from Ojore’s tall frame. She turned to Litonde, and a few designated soldiers waited for her guidance with expectant eyes.

Sholei was engrossed in her duties for the next few hours, and she didn’t notice the time pass.

“My Lady, you must go to the trial pavilion.” Mueni ran to her with wide eyes. Her temporary mask slid down her face.

“You should cover your face if you don’t want to be sick. Is the interrogation over?” Sholei helped her correct the cloth. “Do they know who poisoned the camp?”

”One of the spies caught keeps calling your name,” Mueni recounted between breaths.

Sholei’s mouth fell open as shock registered on her face. A spy from the alliance? Mukuru kingdom? Someone who kept calling her name? Someone crazy enough to break into Ojore’s camp?

Tula .

Sholei dropped her hands from Mueni’s face and sprinted out of the tent.

She reached the pavilion just in time to witness Ojore slash a man’s neck with his sword. Blood splashed on the wooden pavilion as the lifeless body collapsed at Ojore’s feet. Someone else knelt on the floor beside the fallen man, a soldier dressed in an ill-fitting Dembe soldier’s attire. Her clothing barely concealed her female physique.

Sholei could recognize her best friend no matter how she was dressed.

“Tula!” Sholei exclaimed, and everyone around the pavilion turned in her direction.

Her best friend was disheveled. Sholei’s heart broke as she ran up the wooden stairs to Tula. A soldier tried to hold her back, but she pushed him with such force he let her through. A subtle shake from Ojore stopped the guard from pursuing her.

“Tula!” Tears watered her eyes as she took in her friend’s state. Blood oozed from her mouth, and she sported an open wound on her head. Dried blood coated her thick, plaited hair. Her hands were tied behind her back, and part of her clothing was torn.

“Look at me.” Sholei tried to get her friend’s attention. She knelt on the wooden floor, and the blood of the dead spy seeped into her white coverall.

“What are you doing here?” The last time they saw each other was on the night she was kidnapped. Tula was unrecognizable; her cheeks hollow and her eyes dark. How long had she been away from home?

How long had she spied in the camp, in hiding?

Tula stared at Sholei, and her stern gaze softened. “I’m sorry, Sholei. I was supposed to come and rescue you, but unfortunately, I’ve fallen into the hands of the enemy.”

“You found me. I am right here!” Sholei exclaimed and threw her arms around her friend. Tula had lost a considerable amount of weight. Her body swayed and went limp in Sholei’s arms. Her breathing was shallow, and she mumbled incomprehensible words.

“Step back,” Akima commanded. “She is the one who poisoned the water and food in the camp. She has yet to confess her sins.” Sholei held Tula closer and turned to face Ojore. He wielded the blood-covered sword. He didn’t utter a word, his face unreadable .

“The man she was with confessed to his sins. He received his punishments and died with his body intact. I can’t say the same will happen to her.” Akima pointed to the slain spy.

“Don’t worry about me.” Tula struggled with her breath. “I have a message to pass before I die.” A spate of bloodied coughs racked her and she lowered her voice. “Prince Gane will grant all our wishes if you take down Prince Ojore.”

“Prince Gane? Was he the one who sent you to this death trap?” Sholei whispered back. She couldn’t believe Gane could put Tula on such a dangerous mission. Tula wanted to be in the army and fight like her older brothers, but she didn’t have the training to be a soldier. It was suicidal to even think about it.

“I volunteered to come.” Tula feigned a painful smile, but her battered face turned it into a grimace. “I will not be dying alone. The number of Dembe soldiers who took the poison is high. They will die like dogs in the streets.”

“What have you done, Tula?” Sholei shook her friend’s body.

“She has already confessed, General.” Akima turned to Ojore. “She admitted to poisoning our food and water.”

Ojore crouched down to Sholei’s level. The high midday sun behind him darkened his visage. “You heard your friend.” He looked Sholei in the eyes, his voice cold. “She killed my men. I can’t let her go.”

“You can’t hurt her.” Sholei shook her head and held Ojore’s hard gaze. Tula went limp, her body sagged against Sholei’s arms .

“Trespassers in my camp face death. She is no exception.” Ojore’s tone didn’t change.

Sholei tried not to flinch when Ojore’s words washed over her like icy water. The group of soldiers around the pavilion called for Tula’s blood.

The man before her was no longer the traveler she spent the night with, riding across the grassland, counting stars, and finding comfort in his arms. He was the general of the Dembe Southern Army, the most formidable military force in the region, and the conqueror of the Keseve Market.

“To get to her, you must go through me first.” Sholei fought back tears and gripped her unconscious friend tighter.

Ojore chuckled, but mirth didn’t reach his eyes. “Do you think I won’t hurt you?” His words cut like a blade, and she swallowed, fully aware that Ojore could indeed harm her.

“She knows the component of the poison. I need her to tell me how to create an antidote. We must question her for more information.” Sholei opted for a different approach. She couldn’t let Tula die by Ojore’s sword.

“Her death is inevitable.” Ojore stood up, and desperation crawled down Sholei’s spine when he flexed the blood-covered sword in his hand. The blood spatter on his face gave him a menacing look.

“Give me seven days,” she implored. “I will have found a cure for the soldiers.” Sholei’s voice quivered with desperation.

“Five.” Ojore fixed a stern gaze on her. “Get her to reveal what poison she used, and I might reconsider leaving her body intact.” With that, Ojore threw his blood-stained sword before her and departed from the pavilion. Sholei slumped in relief, and Mueni rushed to her side.

Above, the huge eagle circled and landed on one post beside the pavilion. As she inspected her friend, the screech from its beak didn’t register to Sholei.