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S holei could tell something was off about Musembi when she walked in. Musembi stumbled on the threshold of the main hall and dropped her walking staff, nearly hitting Sholei with it.

When Prince Gane left for court, Sholei was escorted out of the palace. She had asked if she could wait for him so she could tell him about the Dembe soldier, but the guards sent her away. Due to the threat of looming war, no one was allowed to loiter around the palace.

“I cannot believe that old woman and his son would come up with such an idea,” Musembi muttered under her breath and rummaged through bags lined along the wall. She most likely searched for alcohol. Musembi had a habit of binge drinking when stressed, which was almost daily.

“Why did the court summon you?’ Sholei wiped her brow, curious about what they had discussed in the court.

“What are these?” Musembi pointed toward Sholei’s bag on the table, where the golden pouch lay. Sholei got to her feet and reached for the bag just as Musembi picked the package up and flung it before Sholei. The flimsy bag gave way, and gold bars spilled out.

For several passing moments, neither spoke. The only sound came from the crackling fire. The golden pieces spilled on the stone floor, and their surfaces shone in the light and reflected in Sholei’s eyes. She dropped down and tried to collect her prize, but Musembi grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Did you get these from Prince Gane?” She pinned Sholei with a stern gaze. “We had already received payment for our services. Why did you take his gold?”

“They are gifts for my tonic. Gane…” Sholei attempted to shrug her shoulders from Musembi, but the older woman held on tighter, her eyes blazing. Sholei had counted the amount in the golden pouch; it was enough to pay for her passage into the Bahri Ocean. Freedom and a life of luxury awaited her.

“I forbid you from calling him by his name.” Musembi’s temperament was terrible, and the anger behind her eyes threatened to spill out. Something upset her, and Sholei paid the price.

“He appreciates my efforts.” She attempted to defend Gane and shrugged her shoulders from Musembi’s grasp. Her eyes shifted between her gold and Musembi.

“What do you need all this gold for? Do you still have dreams of going to study in the Faye Islands? Do you think you qualify to become a Royal Physician just because you can concoct herbs?” Musembi’s words stabbed Sholei deep. Musembi knew of Sholei’s ambitions and stifled them. The topic of the Faye Islands was forbidden in the medicine yard. When the Imperial Physicians came to select students every two years, Musembi sent her out of the city on errands, never meeting them.

This year, she wasn’t going to miss the selection. It didn’t matter what Musembi thought.

“What’s wrong with wanting to expand my knowledge? If I learn at the Faye Islands, I can become a better physician and rise in the ranks in the capital. I’m tired of scraping at the bottom to survive.” Imperial Physicians were revered next to the royals. They lived in better neighborhoods and rubbed shoulders with the mighty in the capital. Sholei dreamt of that life; no one would bully her about her tattoos and shady background when she made a name for herself. She and Musembi would be respected members of society.

“So, this is all about making more money? Being rich? What have I taught you about humility, giving back, and serving the people?” Her words were harsh, and her laughter lacked mirth.

“We deserve respect, too.” Sholei spent years learning her skills and had perfected them. She rarely failed to treat her patients, but she still lived like a second-class citizen.

“Prince Gane isn’t as simple as you think. By taking his money, you have become his accomplice in the dirty politics in King Gusiwaju’s court. We both know his injuries aren’t normal; the king’s court is full of traps, and you’ll be a pawn in his game if you take his favors.” Musembi gazed at the scattered gold bars with a forlorn look. “These should not distract you.” She proceeded to collect the gold. Sholei tried to fight, but she was shoved back so hard that her backside hit the work table. She yelped in pain, but Musembi didn’t spare her a glance.

“The pain should help you get back to your senses before you lose your head,” Musembi said, the bag clutched in her hand.

“Musembi, please,” Sholei pleaded. She couldn’t stop the tears flowing from her eyes.

Musembi shouted, almost desperate. “It’s better to cry now than later when you live in regret.”Through her tears, Sholei could feel the pain and bitterness in Musembi’s words.

“From now on, your allowance is cut off, and you’re banned from leaving this courtyard.” Musembi squared her shoulders and cleared her voice.

Sholei wiped her tears with the back of her hands. She hated crying since it never solved problems, but Musembi crushed her dreams by taking her money.

“Am I to spend my whole life here like you?” Sholei regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She shouldn’t have said that to the woman who raised her single-handedly and taught her everything she knew. What was wrong with dreaming about a better future? Sholei yearned for more than to break her back in the medicine yard.

Musembi gave her a hard stare for several agonizing moments. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped. She sighed and went back to rummage through her bags. Sholei crouched beside the fire and placed her chin on her knees.

She never had good things in life. Musembi forbade her from doing almost anything other girls were doing. She didn’t attend moonlight dances or any sporting activities, and she didn’t dress in fashionable attire. She was forbidden to go to the capitol square unless Musembi accompanied her. She spent her days away at the medicine yard, and apart from going to the forest to forage herbs and the Keseve Market, Sholei didn’t have much social life. And now her only escape from that prison was cut off.

At times like this, Sholei wondered about her origin. Musembi raised her from an infant. Musembi reminded her she was not the same as girls from other families and should know her place.

She was not to stand out.

“Ojore, this is a risky move. We are moving to the heart of our enemy’s territory.” Akima tried to reason with his army general. It was early in the morning, twilight when they descended upon the Keseve Market. They were dressed as a trade caravan from the north and stood on a small hill that overlooked the famous market.

Keseve was an ancient market. Old orators sang its praises from all over the continent. It was one of the few places spared in the ancient war between gods, a fabled tale if anyone were to ask Ojore. It was said that in ancient times, the water god flooded the land, and the sky gods descended to stop him in a fierce battle that left half of the population dead. The Keseve Market existed long before those times. Part of the old world.

The market had four gates, representing the four sky gods who fought the water god. Forces guarded its high walls from the Mukuru Kingdom, and it housed traders from all over the land, as far as the Ngola Kingdom in the distant continent.

In the early morning, it was as busy as ever. Trade caravans from all over the land marched in, and more guards from Mukuru had been posted since the last time he visited. Their bright-colored armor shone in the light. Before the northern gates were a cluster of old and gnarled flame trees. It was said the ancient trees were hit by lightning during the war between the sky gods and Joka, the water god. Their dried barks and twisted branches stretched to the early morning sky.

“Are you scared?” Ojore raised his eyebrow to his friend. “We have done more dangerous escapades than these and achieved our goal.”

Akima shifted on top of his horse. “The last time you were outside camp, you were attacked, and we have yet to find the assassin.”

“Ever since I was born, death has been part of my fate.” Ojore had enemies everywhere, from the court of Dembe Kingdom to the battlefields. He created opponents whenever he won a war and expanded his empire’s territory.

“The arrow is sophisticated, and it tested positive for poison. You were meant to die from your wounds. It’s a miracle you are still alive today.” Akima frowned at his friend .

“Yes, a miracle,” Ojore mumbled as he rubbed the bracelet on his hand. He took the bangle with him everywhere he went.

“If everything goes according to the plan, we will know what King Gusiwaju and his son are planning for the war,” Ojore went on.

The Keseve Market is a strategic point for accessing the southern regions. Mukuru Kingdom will want to protect it, hence the convened meeting. We must listen in on what they are discussing.”

“Even if they band together, they cannot defeat our might,” Akima huffed. The Dembe army was used to wars and was rarely defeated. Well-supplied with weaponry and sound strategies, they could face any adversary.

“Information is power. We must attend the meeting.”

“Do we have to dress as traders to infiltrate the market?” Akima asked and straightened the blue turban on his head. Their disguise was a trade caravan loaded with salt and silk from the far northern regions. They were accompanied by several other soldiers disguised as fellow traders.

“Don’t forget, Akima, a chameleon needs to blend in with its environment.” Ojore urged Radi to advance and led the caravan into the Keseve Market.