₦airaland Forum

“Stop. Moving.”

He did, but he panted, he had to work at it, to fight against the impulse to take his pleasure. His teeth worked into his bottom lip. He bit down hard, almost hard enough to break the skin.

When I finally released him, he let out a low growl, like a wounded animal, but he didn’t speak. The extent of his arousal was painfully clear, still he didn’t try to stroke himself against the surface of the cross. For this night, his pleasure was wholly mine to give, and he showed me with his actions that he understood that. I kissed him on his right shoulder. “You did well, sweetness, very well. I’m proud.”

The tension drained out of him. I had to walk around the cross to see the smile of contentment that filled his face. “Thank you, revered.”

He shouldn’t have spoken, we both knew it, but Eghe was never one to accept praise without offering gratitude. I smacked him on his ass anyway, as a warning to remind him of the rules.

“I’m planning to have quite a bit of fun with you, sweet boy, can you take it?”

His head moved towards the sound of my voice, but his eyes remained closed. “For you, revered, I can take anything.”

I chuckled at that. “Will you stay still, or do you need restraints?”

“Restraints, please, revered.”

I nodded, even though I knew he couldn’t see. “Blindfolds?”

He panted, “yes, please, revered.”

I made quick work out of restraining him. Every time I touched him he inhaled sharply and his breathing grew unsteady. I loved the sound of him, those little pants of arousal he made, the deep inhales when our skins met, the groans when I stroked his erection. I tied the blindfold over his eyes and kissed a trail down the back of his neck.

He shivered when I swiped my tongue across his nape. “What is the slave’s prerogative?”

“Abeg.”

“In the mood I’m in, you might have to use it,” it was a dark promise, one that made him squeak and shudder. I always pushed the people I played with beyond their limit, to make sure they would use the slave’s prerogative. The ones that didn’t, I never played with again. I was oba, too many tried too hard to take more than they could to please me. It was an impulse I squashed as soon as it came up. Eghe and I had done this too many times for me to question his willingness to call out when the pain had crossed beyond the point of pleasure. Still, it didn’t hurt to remind him that I expected him to keep me from crossing that line.

I made my way around the room, letting my thoughts fall away as I gathered my implements. Only one thing mattered from this point on, one person, and he was chained to the cross, waiting on our mutual pleasure. I selected a single tail whip from the rack and picked up a sharp dagger.

As soon as I made that first snap of the whip, my focus had zoomed to a single target, the trembling back laid bare in front of me. I let the whip fall and luxuriated in Eghe’s grunts, his whimpers, his cries, they wrapped me in a blanket of control so comforting I felt the troubles of the world fade away. The power was intoxicating, it made me feel as if there was nothing I couldn’t do, no problem I couldn’t fix.

The sounds lulled me.

The snap of my whip.

The thud of leather against flesh.

The whimper of pain.

The grunts of arousal.

I broke off every so often to run my fingers and tongue over the welts I’d made on his back. To stroke his unflagging erection. To check that he wasn’t dehydrated, or too spaced out on endorphins. I asked him for a number each time, a point where he was on the pain scale, I asked him to repeat the slave’s prerogative, I asked once for the names of all the fledglings who’d come with us. Each time his mind snapped back from the edge of the high the pain sent him to, and when I resumed the whipping the lash felt like the first.

I’d stopped to check on Eghe, for what was perhaps the twelfth time, when I had the inexplicable feeling that I was being watched. I swiveled, the whip coiled around my hand, and turned to face the door.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe. My chest tightened, as if someone had slammed a truck into me and I was suffocating from lungs that couldn’t fill with air.

The sight of her.

She leaned her upper back against the wall, and had her legs spread wide. The burning incense had formed a slight translucent cloud around the room. But I could still see clearly through it, to the left hand that cupped her right breast and the thumb that rubbed over a nipple so hard it poked out through her clothing. My eyes trailed down, of their own accord, down her body, down to the right hand, the fingers resting stationary on the puffy lips of her labia, and the long middle finger stroking frantically between them. I knew it was too far away, that my eyes had to be playing tricks on me, but I could swear I saw the wet patch between her legs.

I didn’t even realize I’d let go off the whip until I heard it fall. The thud was faded, like a distant buzz. I found myself moving, my legs acting as principal driving me forward before my brain could even catch up to it. I was standing in front of her by the time it dawned on me that I was walking.

She was shameless. She looked me in the eyes as she teased herself and moaned. The sound and sight of her was too much. It hit me with a wave of arousal so strong I would have climaxed, if I hadn’t trained myself out of involuntary orgasms a long time ago.

I had no thoughts, no words, I was stunned speechless. I wasn’t even sure that it was real, this, her, here, touching herself, it felt too good to be real.

She leaned forward, and I knew, she was going to kiss me.

This was the moment I’d been pining for since the first time I laid eyes on her ten years ago. I watched her face move closer, and it was excruciating, the wait, the wanting. I knew what the right thing to do was, and for the first time in my life, I struggled with it. I wanted her. I wanted her so badly I ached. I wanted her so badly my clit throbbed and my nipples bunched and tingled. Every part of me wanted her. And I could have her. I could push her against the wall and feel her body pressed flush against mine. I could lap at her lips till I’d consumed all traces of her arousal, then I could flick at that button her finger stroked, with my tongue, and watch her explode in my mouth. I could rip those clothes off, and finally taste her flesh. I wanted to devour her, to take those hard nipples in my mouth and learn her tolerance for pain. How much suction would it take to make her flinch?

All the things I wanted.

But it was wrong. I could not take a lover against their will. And Mede, as sweetly dripping as she was, was under the influence of the aphrodisiacs burning in the censers. Aphrodisiacs she had no tolerance for. I would be the worst kind of hypocrite if I took advantage of her in this state.

But I wanted to, by all the masquerades, I wanted to. I knew that if I let this opportunity pass, I might never get another.

My better senses won out in the end. I wrapped my hand around her neck, stopping her before our lips met.

She seemed dazed, surprised that I would stop it. “Please,” she said, just as she’d said to me before I walked into this room, begging for something neither of us could name.

I squeezed, not too hard, but hard enough to exert some control on the both of us. The more force I put in, the more power I regained over my body. This it understood, control, domination, bending another to my will, it was my body’s natural state. It pushed away the daze of longing.

For Mede, it did the exact opposite.

She came.

I couldn’t believe it. I gaped at her.

She came.

The sound of her orgasm rung in my ear. The pitch of it. It came out wild, completely uninhibited, as if it had been ripped from her, forced out of her without her control. And the way she’d tipped her head back, pushing her neck even further into my tight hold. It was like an offering of trust, her neck, her orgasm.

I released the check I placed on my emotions and I choked her. I squeezed until it was beyond playful, until the shock of it chased the afterglow of the orgasm away from those beautifully dilated pupils, until she struggled to breathe and wrestled with my grasp. I squeezed until fear was the only thing shining through those sweet eyes of hers. Then I released her and enjoyed the sight of her falling to her knees and struggling to fill her lungs with air.

“Get out,” I said to her, and she scrambled on hands and knees to obey.

By coming into the room without my permission, she’d disobeyed me. I tried to find the anger, but all I could think about was the sight of her leaning against the wall, stroking herself. The sound of her orgasm. She’d come from me choking her!

“Revered?”

Eghe. I’d forgotten all about Eghe. I cursed at Mede then, the anger finally arriving. Eghe was my focus, my primary, I’d left him chained to the cross, completely forgotten because of Mede. Just the sight of her had completely robbed me of my senses. There was very little pleasurable in the sudden desire I had to march out of the room and beat Mede until she remembered that I was her Oba, and obeying my orders wasn’t optional.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax, then I walked back to Eghe and tried to explain to him what had happened. Our scene had been broken. The release we’d both earned snatched away by Mede’s interruption. No, I couldn’t blame her. I was the one in charge, I should have kept my focus on Eghe, he should have been my priority.

Why had my brain completely shut down the moment I saw her? That had never happened to me before.

“Let me give you your release,” I said to Eghe, stroking his face to calm myself as much as it did him.

“Please, finish with the whip, revered, please.”

I wanted to give into the yearning in his voice, the plea, but I was too emotional to use the whip on anyone. He deserved better. I’d failed him.

“I’m sorry, sweetness, not tonight. Let me give you your release then tend to your wounds. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

He sighed, then nodded.

“Oral or vaginal?” He knew vaginal would have to be with someone else. I would find a slave for him if he chose that option.

“You, revered, always you.”

I leaned into him and pressed a light kiss against his lips. “You are too good for me, my sweet.”

He started to argue.

I shushed him with my lips, then I went down on my knees and took him into my mouth. I tried to focus on him, on his pleasure, on his release, but I couldn’t get the picture of Mede out of my head.

19

“Your pleasure awaits, revered.” The den master stopped in front of a smooth white door with a red knob, encased in glass. “Do you desire an attendant to wait on you?”

I shook my head.

“Tug on the bell cord if you need anything, revered, an attendant will rush to your summons.” Then she bowed deeply and backed away from me. I absently noted her departure in my peripheral vision. My focus was on the doorknob. The deep darkness of the red metal within surrounded by fragile glass. It seemed an apt analogy for the flagellation suite, the room where the fragility of human flesh was exposed and shattered, giving way for the rich, red, hue, of life sustaining blood, to flow.

I reached for the doorknob and stopped short when I saw Mede’s hand had reached the destination inches ahead of mine. I’d bent forward to reach the door and Mede had bent too, for the same purpose. The angling of our bodies left our faces so close that I could stick out my tongue and run it over the crease that had formed between her eyebrows.

She stared at me. I’d known Mede for a decade now, and in that time, I had never seen her look as scared as she did in that moment.

I pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

She shifted so that her body was completely positioned in front of the white door. I couldn’t look away from those wide eyes and the worry lines that now marred the tranquility of her face. She shook her head. “You can’t go in,” the words were barely above a whisper.

I struggled to understand her. She seemed so scared, terrified. I looked around me, trying to make sure there wasn’t some danger I couldn’t see. The hallway was empty. It was just the both of us.

“I don’t understand.”

Her tongue darted out, pushing its way between her lips and pulling the lower one into her mouth. I watched as she released it, as that tempting tongue withdrew back into its shell. She was killing me with her look. The fear, the tremor in her voice when she’d spoken, the uncertainty in her gaze. It was so unlike Mede, and yet so like every version of her I’d ever dreamt about.

“Eghe is in that room,” she said, “he’s your tumbler.”

I frowned. “So?”

“You can’t go in. He’s your tumbler. You just…” she trailed off, shaking her head so slightly the ends of her braids crept distractingly over her bare shoulders. “You can’t.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you Mede, but I’ve played with Eghe before, he has no problem with it. Neither should you.”

Her lips pulled apart, far enough that I could see a glimpse of her teeth. Then she snapped her mouth shut and cleared her throat. Now the fear in her eyes morphed into something that looked a lot like pain. Mede, hurt? I shook my head. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with me for letting her detain me?

I jerked my head to the side, an act of impatience every one of my tumblers knew to heed. Mede stubbornly stuck her ground. “You can’t do this. He’s your tumbler. It’s not right.”

My eyes narrowed on her. I tried to read her face. I was good at reading people, I would not be who I am if I was not. I could plainly see that she was hurt, I read the look of betrayal stamped onto her features. It annoyed me.

“Get out of my way.”

She crossed her hands over her chest and tipped her chin upwards.

I took one look at the obstinate tilt of her face, the way she’d squared her shoulders, the feet that she’d spread to stand her ground, and I let a cold smile creep onto my lips. I moved towards her, taking one step at a time, till I was only a step away. Then I caught her gaze and held it, pondering at her thoughts, the insanity that drove her to this. If only she could read my mind, and see how desperately I wanted to hurt her, and how sweetly she was giving me a reason to.

“Please,” she said. She sounded lost. I wondered if she even knew what she was asking for. I said nothing, I just waited her out. She moved out of the way.

“No one comes in,” I ordered. I didn’t look at her. “No one.”

“Yes, revered.”

I twisted the knob and walked in.

It was as if I walked through a mental filter. As soon as I crossed the threshold, all of my thoughts, my concerns and worries, all pieces of myself not connected to the purpose of the room faded away. Debisi’s scheming, the intrigues surrounding the Alake of Ikeja, the witch doctor’s inexplicable presence in the den, Mede’s strange behavior and even my worries for Ayisha, all became a distant hum in the recesses of my mind. Nothing mattered more to me in that moment than the suite and its sole inhabitant.

The den’s flagellation suite was like others I’d seen. It was a large space with a massive X cross in the middle of the room. There were other smaller crosses positioned around the room, spaced between vertical and horizontal spinning wheels with chains running over the smooth flat surface of the board. Several cuffs hung from metal links falling from the ceilings and swept the floors fixed to bolts holding them in place. There were several racks filled with all manner of pain implements, a whole section was dedicated to whips.

I walked around the room, ignoring for the moment, the naked boy kneeling in the middle.

The drawers had been left open to display the various implements they held. Knives, daggers, collars, needles. I ran my fingers lightly over the spiked ends of a metal wheel. The bed was expected, but not the size, this one looked large enough to hold over a dozen people indulging in some wild, acrobatic sex. I walked over to the other side of the room. These drawers held blindfolds, leather gags, nipple clamps, hoods, belts with links that could only be chastity devices. I eyed a cock ring, but decided he wouldn’t need it.

By the time I circled back to Eghe he was panting. He knelt the way I liked, with his knees spread wide enough that I could clearly see the extent of his arousal. I could tell the effort he put into controlling his breathing once I drew closer.

My palm moved smoothly over his freshly shaved scalp. “This wasn’t necessary,” I remarked, to test him. He did well, he didn’t speak. “Why did you shave it?”

Now that he’d been asked a direct question, he had permission to speak. “I knew it would please you, revered.”

I said nothing to that, just kept stroking his head. I let my fingers trail down his neck, tickle behind his earlobes, creep along his spine. He twitched a little, but for the most part, he held still.

“Present.”

He stood up, his rise was artful, carried out with a tumbler’s grace. I turned my back on him and walked over to the single table in the room. It was a large desk, one that had a heavy armless chair on one side of it, with a spindly cane leaning against it. I picked up the wine decanter on the desk and filled a golden cup with palmwine. Then I perched against the desk, sipped my wine, and enjoyed the view. He had his hands folded, correctly, behind his back, his legs spread, his pelvis tilted forward, drawing attention to his jutting erection.

His breathing faltered as I circled him again. I left a wide enough berth that our bodies didn’t touch. “Do you want some wine?”

“Yes, please, revered.” The unsteadiness in his voice reached deep into me and soothed me.

“Close your eyes,” I whispered into his ear. He did, without a second thought, without a single furrow of worry or fear appearing on his beautiful face. His trust was a heady thing.

I poured some of the wine over his shoulder, chuckling when he jerked in surprise. His eyes stayed closed though; he was being very good. I bent forward and licked the creamy liquid off his skin. By the time I was done there were goosebumps all over his back.

“Do you want some wine, my sweet boy?” I nibbled on his earlobe before pulling away.

“Yes, please, revered, I am thirsty.”

“Open up.” His lips pulled apart without hesitation. I placed the rim of the cup against his open mouth and poured, a little at a time, till the wine was gone. Then I wiped away the little spills, on his face, across the plains of his bare chest, I cleaned it all with my tongue. He was so good, he left his mouth open, until I pressed against his chin, giving him permission to close it.

“Position yourself against the cross.” This time he failed the test, his eyes pulled open, and he blinked a little dazedly before he began walking. I made a clucking sound and he froze. His head snapped towards mine, and I feasted off the shimmer of apprehension in his gaze. “Did I tell you to open your eyes?”

Now the apprehension morphed into a fear so complete it made my heart race.

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes lids together. “Please, forgive me, revered.”

I let the silence grow, knowing that in darkness his terror would increase. He couldn’t see my face, couldn’t see how annoyed I was, couldn’t gaze the extent of the punishment he’d earned, and so his mind would rush to fill in the details. I let it, and enjoyed watching the tremors when he began shaking.

“Hands and knees,” I snapped, pulling him away from the mental torture he’d subjected himself to, “bad boys don’t get to walk.” He dropped to all fours. “Go to the X cross.” He crawled with his eyes closed. I wondered how many objects he’d bump into before he found his cross. The thought made me smile.

While Eghe muddled about the room, I made my way to the censers. They’d left a pile of aphrodisiac incense on a stone platform by the censer. I plucked a few and weighed them. Eghe and I had played together long enough for me to learn his limits where opiates where concerned. I wanted to burn just enough that it raised his arousal, and lowered his inhibitions, but not so much that he completely lost his wits. Deciding to start light, I placed two piles on the censer bowl.

It didn’t take long before the fumes rose and drifted around the room. They smelled sweet, like mangoes, and left a saccharine taste in the mouth that was oddly not repugnant.

By the time I reached Eghe, he was kneeling beside the large cross in the middle of the room. I wondered if he’d specifically made an effort to find this one, or if it had just been the first he’d stumbled across. His face was relaxed, rubbed free of lines, even his closed eyelids had no crinkles. He looked completely at ease. It was obvious that the aphrodisiacs had already taken effect. For me, the amount I’d burned was little more than a sweet-smelling distraction, but Eghe’s tolerance was nowhere near as high as mine.

“Get up.”

He stood without leaning on the cross or reaching for the ground for support. Even with his eyes closed, his grace was impeccable.

“You get to choose, front or back?”

The bobbing of his Adam’s apple betrayed his nervousness. I ran my finger slowly over that swollen knob, enjoying the feel and the texture of it, enjoying it even more when he swallowed underneath my finger.

“Back, please, revered,” need fought with fear and arousal and I could hear the tremor of each desire in his voice. I drank it in, and craved more. I wanted to hear his screams, wanted to watch him writhe against the harsh wooden grains of the X cross, wanted to watch him bleed, to wet my tongue with the taste of his sweat, his blood, his tears.

I took his hand and pressed it flat against the surface of the cross. A little pressure on the hollow of his back, was all the incentive he needed to feel his way to the cross and then push himself flush against the surface. I ran my hand down his spine and bit his shoulder in warning when he fidgeted. He froze, his breathing became less even, his body tense. I stroked his skin, marveling at the smoothness of it. When my fingers brushed over his nipple his breathing turned harsh. I wrapped my hand around his dick and stroked, while my other hand cupped his balls. I could tell how badly he wanted to move, to force a pace to my stroking, to beg me for release, but he didn’t. He knew me too well to try. Precum spilled out of him, and I stroked him with it, using his fluid to lubricate my strokes. I kept going until his restraint broke, until he couldn’t stop his pelvis from tilting forward, and slamming his cock through my fist.

@tunjilomo lol, I'm just trying my best to keep the story spicy

@PenHub Thank you for reading, I'll try to keep the suspense building

@Elvictor main action loading ...

@GeoSilYe sorry oh, don't worry there's no suspense in this update, we have a break from the suspense

@dawno2008 WOW! Mind blown, lol, thank you I'm going to make sure that the twists keep on coming

@NoChill as in ehn, you haven't seen anything yet, what has entered Mede oh? Somebody help me ask her

DarkPheonix:
Thank you very much for the clarification, I will start reading the Crimson night as soon as possible.
You are a great writer.

I hope you enjoy it

DarkPheonix:
I enjoyed it and all thanks to you!!!!



I have not read any of your work apart from this, where can I get the other stories?



Humans always think they can always have things go there way, and they think too highly of themselves, are human really that special?. Now they have succeeded in infesting the spectral existence, and I will have to blame them for the war going on in the whole four existence.
The Chu of the spectral existence benevolence is annoying, I despise him, and kuwor isn't even fair in his judgement. It breaks my fragile heart to think that Cala will have to suffer or even die in the hands of over privileged humans.
Sobs!!!.

Oh, you're talking about Calane, Nebud's last offspring. Well, I haven't written the story yet, the way the marked series is structured is that I have three books in the human world, set before this book, and this is the last marked book I've written. Calane's story will be told/known in the next marked book set in the human world (and a bit in the spectral existence). The first book in the marked series is Crimson Night, you can get it for free on okadabooks https://okadabooks.com/book/about/Crimson_Night/25954. The next one is White Sight: The Awakening which is also on Okadabooks https://okadabooks.com/book/about/white_sight_the_awakening_-_preview/35519

The bleached man sighed. “It must be nice to be secure in the strength of your rulers. To have an Oba as great as Netite, succeeded by a warrior as fierce as Tanose, a family of rulers that actually care for their people. What a thing. Perhaps I should move to Isan. What do you think, your excellency, is there room for me in your great nation?”

His words troubled me. “You do not think that the Ooni cares for his people?”

“Kabiyesi?” He scoffed. “The Ooni is an old fool who’s grown content with watching his mistress’s stomach swell. He’s cuckolded the Alake and so he tells himself he’s won victorious over his enemy. Then he rolls over and lets the Nuri Bleep him. The Nuri reap our children and the Ooni does nothing. Is it any wonder that the Alake makes alliances with them?” He reached for his glass, swirled the amber liquid for a few seconds, then downed it in a single gulp. “If only they’d let our pure prince succeed the throne,” he said, as he slammed the empty glass onto the table. “We’d finally have a ruler worthy of the name.”

The albino laughed. “Worthy of the name? The pure prince uses glasses, my friend, he is flawed. Remember what my niece said, he stumbles on his own feet when he fights.” He spat. “I’d much rather call a bleached man Kabiyesi than a weak one.”

The bleached shook his head. “No, my friend, no, it is all an act, part of the agreement.”

The man’s words reminded me of others, words that Taiso had spoken to me. He’d told me that he’d reached an agreement with Debisi concerning the crown and warned me to honor it, right after he’d confessed to trying to have Debisi killed, and alleged that Debisi had done the same to him.

“The agreement is a myth.”

“No,” the bleached one insisted. He snapped his fingers for the attendants to fill his glass. “Sisi told me herself. You know Sisi, my sister’s eldest, the prettiest girl in Ikeja. She spent a month in the Capital, being courted by the pure prince. He told her of the agreement himself, he showed her his glasses. They are fake. Sisi wore them.”

The albino let out a dismissive snort.

“Truly,” the bleached insisted, “the Alaafin was jealous of the pure prince after he beat him in that archery tourney the late Alake of Ibadan held. The Alaafin swore that if the pure prince did not put on glasses and appear to be less than what he was, he would kill him, and kill every member of every noble family who has ever supported him. That is why the pure prince appears weak and why he wears glasses. He told my Sisi. He is a man of character that one, he would rather appear less than see innocents killed. That is what we need in a ruler.”

The albino still wasn’t convinced and the bleached went on talking, eager to set him straight. The conversation faded to a distant buzz in the back of my mind. I couldn’t pay attention to it, I couldn’t, not when that day with Debisi kept playing on a loop in my mind. Debisi and me walking to that clearing, him telling me his life’s tale, allowing me to expose his secret about the fake glasses, him swearing me to secrecy because no one else knew. If the bleached man was right, then it was a lie. All of it. How many other women had he told his story to, confident that they would take it back to their families and spread it? No wonder he had staunch believers everywhere he went. I imagined they’d all heard about the agreement, or at least some version of it.

“But can he fight?” The albino asked. “What use is an Ooni who cannot fight?”

“Sisi says he is an even better fighter than the Alaafin and that is why the Alaafin works so hard to discredit him, so that no one will ever know the truth. But I know, we all know. The Eyo masquerade chose the pure prince, it is why he is albino and his brother is not. It is why.”

I was speechless. Could Debisi really have lied to my face? The truth was evident, but I couldn’t get myself to believe it. I recalled the look on Debisi’s face as he told me his story, the shock when I discovered the glasses were fake, the pleading when he begged me not to tell anyone else. Maybe this, Sisi, girl had stumbled onto the secret too and he’d begged her not to divulge it. It wasn’t his fault if she went back on a promise she made to him. Yet, I couldn’t fight the feeling that others knew. That if this bleached man living in Ikeja knew of Debisi’s secret, his agreement with his brother, an agreement which Debisi had never told me about, then others knew. Just thinking about the agreement made my head throb. Taiso had told me that the agreement existed, but Debisi had told me a different story when he talked about the fake glasses. He’d told me that Taiso didn’t know they were fake, but if this bleached man was right, then Taiso had insisted on Debisi wearing them.

And if this bleached man was right, then the Alake of Ikeja had barred our entry through the gates of those impenetrable marble walls, because he was hosting the Eze of Nuri. I thought about it, and warred with it, because the implications of an alliance between Ikeja and Nuri, the implications to Bono and to the Nulin nations as a whole, would be devastating.

“What is the Oba, most revered of the Isan nation, doing skulking around a den of Iniquity in the ogiri of Ikeja?” A dry voice called out behind me. As soon as the words were delivered, the bleached man stopped talking and turned to gape at me, his mouth hanging open like a dead fish.

Though the voice that spoke was familiar, it wasn’t friendly.

I turned around. My eyes locked on the brand on the man’s forehead. I clenched my jaw and then had to force myself to relax. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my gaze still on that brand. I’d ordered him branded, and watched as that, and other things, were done to him.

He made me a mocking bow. “What reason indeed, could a eunuch healer have for frequenting a den of iniquity? You may have cut of my dick, revered, but you didn’t have my eyes removed.”

I leaned back, resting my back against the edge of the wooden table, and eyed the man. I took a sip of my drink, only too aware of the wide Bono eyes that stared at me. A slave had heard him call me revered, he’d gasped and rushed scurrying away. Soon, more people would know. I couldn’t keep the coldness from seeping into my gaze. “You should be grateful that your head is still on your body,” I said calmly, my lips forming into a smile as chilly as my eyes.

“Should I?” he shrugged. “Perhaps, but it is not a gratitude I owe to you. It was your father who saved me, after you’d given the order to have my head removed. You took your revenge in other ways, though, didn’t you?”

His words evoked a painful memory. I’d fought bitterly with my father over the eunuch healer’s fate. If it was left to me the man would have died a painful death. But father intercepted my order and had him banished instead. Banishment, for a child molester, so that he could travel to some other land and take advantage of some unsuspecting children. I could still hear the argument, our voices bouncing off the walls, father’s roar every time I interrupted him. He’d wanted to release the healer without punishment, I told him that if he did so, he might as well go ahead and disown me. Tiwo’s calm voice of reasoning broke in. He’d talked father into agreeing to a banishment and when I’d been inclined to argue, he’d given me one of his ‘trust me’ looks and I’d held my tongue.

After father’s ruling, Tiwo, Mede, Eghe and a handful of my most trusted tumblers escorted me and the eunuch healer to the border. We castrated him on the way there and put the Isan scourge of a pedophile’s brand on his head. There would be no more unsuspecting children in his future.

I studied the eunuch healer. He’d had a name once, a name I remembered, but the Isan scourge on his forehead stripped him of that name and whatever Isan wealth and titles he’d accomplished in his illustrious life. As much as I despised him, even I had to grant that he had been a genius in the healing arts. The years had been kind to him. He would be in his early fifties now, though he looked at least a decade younger. He didn’t slouch. He still had those smile lines on his face, and the wrinkles around his eyes that made him look kind, approachable, welcoming. He’d been the head of the royal healers, I’d known him as a child, laughed with him, been comforted by him. Until his true nature had been revealed. His frame was still as slight as it had always been, he was a man who believed wholeheartedly in exercise and the healing benefits it carried.

“How apt that you found a home for yourself in Nuri?” I remarked casually, eyeing the Isiagu he wore over brown khakis. “Where else would a pedophile be welcome?”

When I was younger, I’d gotten so much comfort from looking into his eyes. He had the same calming presence that my mother had, a gift of their calling to heal. Even now, he still gave off that calming aura, it felt like some sort of cruel joke. There was nothing calming about the anger that tightened his features though.

“I am no pedophile.”

“You were complicit in the sheltering of a child slave, who you raped. If that is not a pedophile, I don’t know what is.”

I’d forgotten about the Bono men sitting beside me, until they gasped. The eunuch healer glared at them and they scurried away. I frowned at that, alarm bells chiming in my head. The eunuch healer should not have the power to dispel Bono nobles with a glance.

When his gaze turned back to mine, I made sure to keep my face impassive.

“You are still as uncompromising now as you were then. I told you before and I’ll tell you again, even though I have little to fear from you now. I did not know she was a child. Her master told me that she was eighteen, slow to mature. My mistake was in believing him.”

To enslave a child, it made me shudder. The man who’d done it was dead, killed by the oracles, as was the fate for all who committed sacrileges against the callings. A person had to have reached the age of maturity, before they could beseech the oracle for the right to call themselves slave. They had to make the request, and only an oracle could grant it. It made me sick to think of what was done to that child. She was safe now, well taken care of, but she would always bear those scars.

“You are a genius. That’s what my father said, it’s why he forbade me killing you. A genius. What kind of genius healer cannot tell between the body of a woman of eighteen and a child of twelve?”

“I…” I arched a brow and his words trailed off. “Revered…” again he couldn’t finish his sentence. He sighed. “I thought she was of age.”

I scoffed. “Now, you’re just lying to yourself.” Then I flicked my gaze away, dismissing him. When my attention returned to the dais, I noticed, with a measure of disappointment, that the entertainment had long since ended. There was nothing on the stage now but pillows strewed about. It left me with an odd feeling of loss, as though I had missed out on seeing something spectacular.

“Forgive me, your excellency, I…I mean revered, if I had known who you were…” The bleached man was back. The eunuch healer was gone to another part of the room. I watched him as he wound his way around couches. People hurried to make way for him, and bowed to the waist in greeting as he passed. How had he accumulated so much power?

“Are you well acquainted with the witch doctor?” The bleached man asked, his gaze following mine.

I looked away from the eunuch healer. “Witch doctor?”

He jerked his head at the eunuch healer. “He is the Eze of Nuri’s witch doctor. They say that he follows the Eze wherever he goes, and that his presence alone is enough to ensure the Eze’s longevity. No ailment can befall the Eze, no weapon cuts his flesh, no wound festers, not when his witch doctor is by his side.” The bleached man shuddered. “He will be part of the reaping.”

I was about to ask more, but the bleached man’s attention was already on something else. Someone behind me. I turned around in time to see an elderly woman bowing deeply to me. Her skin was a dark shade of honey, a cross between what was usual for Nuri and what was usual for the Isan. I could not tell from looking at her where she haled from. She could just as easily have been Bono. Her velvet wrapper and the braids falling from her head told of an Isan heritage.

“You honor us with your presence, revered. If it please you, I am Osareme, master of this den.”

I gave her a curt nod, distracted by the bleached man’s words.

“Your slave, and the suite you requested are both ready for your use.”

Another curt nod and she backed slightly away, waiting for me to follow.

“Follow the eunuch healer,” I whispered to Mede. I kept my voice low, so that only my tumblers could hear. “I want to know what he’s doing here.”

The eunuch healer had grown used to attending on royals, it made sense to me that he would seek similar employment. Working for the Eze of Nuri would account for the authority he seemed to command here. But then, would that also be proof that the Eze of Nuri truly was in Ikeja? And if he was what was I going to do about it? I’d come to this den to find the release that came with indulging my needs for sadistic domination. But now, pleasure was the furthest thing on my mind. I thought of Eghe, kneeling in a flagellation suite, waiting for me to give us both the release we craved, and I sighed.

“Osas will go,” Mede said, “I will stay with you.”

I studied Mede. She’d never countermanded my orders in public before. Never. Just as she’d never ‘insisted’ on accompanying me to a den of iniquity. Insisting, overruling my orders, she was forgetting her place. I thought about all the ways I could force her back in line, and images of Mede tied naked to an X cross invaded my thoughts. I imagined circling her. I could hear the snap of my whip and see her answering shudder. I imagined her lips pulled apart, her panting, the sound of her breathing, in tune with mine, her eyes, opened wide, shimmering with fear and an undeniable arousal.

Shaking my head, I forced my thoughts free of Mede. I’d pushed those feelings down, buried them deep, why did they keep crawling back up?

I caught and held Mede’s gaze. “Careful,” I warned her.

Her gaze lowered. “Let Osas go, please, revered.”

I turned to the tumbler and nodded. He bowed and backed away, keeping his front to me. Then I stood and walked beside the den master to the flagellation suite. As we moved, my head throbbed with a desperate need to assemble the pieces of the puzzle into a clear picture of what was going on behind the marble walls of Ikeja, the plots the Alake hatched, the schemes Debisi planned. But my body throbbed with a different, much baser need, one Mede had inflamed with her defiance.

18

There was a certain allure to the den that I could not name on first sight. The building, up close, loomed larger than it had when I’d initially seen it as we’d ridden by. Now I could see the nuances in the texture of the red paint that coated the walls. It took me back to Isan, back to my colorful nation, back to the rich clay soil that marked us. The paint was so lifelike it made me feel as if I could run my fingers over the exterior and feel granules of sand.

A little squeak preceded the opening of the den’s large doors, revealing a half-dressed male slave. I caught glimpses of the ambiance behind him. The hallway was dimly lit, giving off an aura of mystery intricately wound with danger. Faint glows of red light, a red as dark as blood, punctuated the darkness. I couldn’t help but smirk at the menace that the décor promised.

Eghe shivered beside me.

Tonight, he wasn’t a tumbler. He wasn’t dressed in the tumbler’s girdle, but in a seamless white galabia. His wide eyes and slightly parted lips somehow imbued a measure of innocence on his weathered features. I smiled.

The slave bowed deeply to me, it was a waist bow, too well-orchestrated to be spontaneous or unique. “Be welcome, madam,” he said, stepping out of the way and extending his hands into the darkness behind him.

‘Madam.’ I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been called that. This evening, my braids were unadorned by the royal gems which usually gave away my identity.

I gave a curt nod to the slave, my eyes perfunctorily sliding over his body. He looked to be in his early twenties. His exposed chest showed lean muscles which reminded me a little too much of Debisi. His white silk trousers billowed around his legs, stopping short at feet which were left bare.

The door closed behind us, sealing us within the enigmatic haze of the den’s lighting.

“What is your desire, madam?”

My eyebrow rose instinctively in response. It wasn’t the question, but the way he uttered it, with his voice low and breathy, nibbling on his plump bottom lip after. He lowered his gaze demurely away from mine.

“How are the slaves prepared?”

His head rose slowly. When his eyes snapped back to mine, they drifted deliberately to the side, just enough to appear as though he was too shy to meet my gaze.

He licked his lower lip before responding, giving it a glossy shine. “A bath.” he said, in that breathy voice, the one that made it clear he was aroused, though his flaccid cock told a different story. They trained den attendants to look like this, act like this, demure in this way. “Shaving. Lubrication.” He panted between each word, as if just saying the words made him think of being prepared to wait on my pleasure, and that the thought left him short of breath. “Shall we go to the viewing, madam?” he asked.

I studied him carefully. “And will you be amongst the slaves on display?”

His eyes widened. “No, madam, I do not cater to sexual needs, it goes beyond my calling.”

A knot in my chest loosened. It set my mind at ease to know that even here in Bono the Isan slaves were afforded the same protections the calling necessitated. I smiled at the boy. “A viewing won’t be necessary, I brought my own.” I jerked my chin in Eghe’s direction and smirked at the predictable shudder he gave. “Have him prepared. And a flagellation suite if you have one.”

The slave bowed. “As it please you madam.” He extended his hands deeper into the darkened hallway. “Please, go straight ahead, madam, I will come for you when your wishes have been met.”

I nodded. I could almost smell Eghe’s anticipation as I walked past him. He kept his head bowed, his gaze lowered and away from me, but I didn’t need to look into his eyes to read what he felt. His body told me all I needed to know.

The hallway ended in a door that opened up to a large circular room with an entirely different mood. This room was brightly lit. White light streamed down from hanging chandeliers and from lanterns positioned in cubbies built into the walls. The wall was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was a wall of doors, separated by narrow strips which contained the lanterns. In the center of the room there was a slightly raised dais. The dais was furnished with pillows and with two people of opposite sexes, both wearing nothing but Nuri masks over their heads. They stood facing each other, arms by their sides, not moving, the slight movements of their chests the only signs that they were alive, not statues.

The steady sound of carefully controlled breathing drew my attention to the left. Mede was on edge. She’d been like this since we left the inn. I probably shouldn’t have let her come. Why did she insist? I looked away. I’d come with two tumbler guards. They were both dressed in their girdles, but they carried no spears, just daggers buried into the pockets at their sides.

I wove through the cluster of partially filled couches, arranged around the stage, were the patrons lounged idly, picking from sparsely filled trays. I kept going until I reached the semi-circular bar at the edge of the room. Two slaves attended to this region. They worked around a circular column of shelves and cubbies reaching as high as the ceiling, each part of it splendidly filled with an artistic display of bottled drinks.

I took a seat at the bar and gestured for my tumblers to do the same. Mede was still as tightly wound as before. The other tumbler was more relaxed though. He was younger than Mede, but he’d been with me for a long time, almost as long as Eghe. Unlike Mede, this was not his first time following me to a den of iniquity. Dens like these were filled with aphrodisiacs. They put them in drinks when requested, and burned them in censers in the playrooms. Mede, hating aphrodisiacs as much as she did, usually stayed away. This evening she’d insisted on coming.

I shook my thoughts free of her, and picked up the clear crystal glass an attendant placed behind me. I took a sip, then grinned at the tumbler who’d ordered it. It was pineapple zobo, made with a shot of ogogoro, with a light topping of ground opiate kola nuts. I rarely indulged in alcoholic zobo, but when I did, this was exactly how I liked it made.

My eyes flicked lazily over the room and its occupants. I saw couples twined together on the couches, in twos, threes, fours, they fed their exhibitionist streaks, idly playing with their partners. Fingers crawled over rising phalluses and thumbs brushed against pebbled nipples, but there was a sense of anticipation in the languid stroking, as if they were waiting for the real entertainment to begin.

My attention caught on the couple standing in the middle of the room. With their heads covered I could not tell if they were slave or free, but I could tell from the darkness of their skin that they were Isan. They stood just as still now as they’d been when I first walked in. The masks they wore only had holes cut out around their nose. There were no slits for them to see through. I stared at them and wondered at their stillness. As far away as I now was, I could no longer see the rhythmic rise and fall of their chests, the only signal to their being alive. From this distance, they were statues.

The lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Then something changed. The soft lull of whispered conversations faded away, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. A bang sounded, the thud of a door being slammed close. It reverberated through the room, made even more poignant by the silence that it had invaded. A man walked in. His face was covered, his skin the light brown of the Nuri, but he had no aha markings on his bare chest. He was a big man, with broad shoulders, and limbs thick with muscle. I watched his saunter, and had a fleeting thought that there was something predatory about the way he walked.

He stopped in front of the dais and circled it. His mask was different, it wasn’t a Nuri mask, not a full cloth mask that covered the entire head, but a face mask, one with an oddly familiar style. He stopped abruptly, kicked a pillow out of his way and stomped onto the stage. He circled the woman first, inspecting her. She didn’t move, not even when his fingers tweaked her nipple. He released the pincer hold and thumbed the jutting peak with the back of his finger, a careless caress. A step a little to the left, and his fingers moved away, casually creeping across her skin. In between her breasts, down her flat stomach, over her wide hips, across the round globes of her ass.

Then, suddenly, he snapped his hand away.

She moved for the first time then, stumbled backwards, as if the absence of his touch left her without support. I found myself leaning forward, the glass cup I held to my lip momentarily forgotten. There was something engrossing about the act. It was like a dance without music, dialogue without words. Somehow the man had become a magician, his touch capable of breathing life into what had once been a statue.

“The dance of the Ekpo masquerade, Nwada, fascinating, is it not?”

The voice that broke my attention was gravelly and sounded slightly amused. His voice held all the arrogance of one fully aware of the superiority of his station in life. I didn’t need to look at him to know that he was a noble. I also didn’t need to look at him to know that he was a fool. Only a fool would call me ‘Nwada’, the common title for a Nuri noblewoman. Did I look Nuri?

I inclined my head slightly to the side.

“Forgive my friend, your excellency, he has never been out of Bono.” He turned to his companion, “she is Isan, you fool, not Nuri.”

I studied them both, slightly irritated that they’d interrupted my viewing of the dais and the scene taking place on it. The first one who’d spoken was an albino, he stood a head shorter than his friend, but he was bulkier. The second was bleached. They were both older, in their early forties I guessed, dressed in neatly pressed dashikis.

“May I?” the bleached one gestured to the empty seat beside me. I didn’t need to turn around to know that the slight shuffling I heard came from Mede, no doubt preparing to throw her dagger at the man for his presumption.

I nodded at him. He sat.

I turned my attention back to the stage. Both statues had come to life now, they both trembled under the man’s caresses. He walked between them, drawing closer and then leaning away when the object of his gaze leaned forward to meet him. It was like he was a musician and they were the instruments he played.

“Is this your first time witnessing the dance of the Ekpo masquerade?”

There was something so odd about seeing a beard with hair as frosty white as his. This one was smart, unlike his friend, he’d called me excellency, the honorific for an Enogie. He’d seen my tumblers and made that connection. Only landed Isan nobles and their families could submit requests for personal tumbler guards. Most of them were refused.

I nodded, in answer to his question.

His expression dimmed. “The den master always puts it on the night before a reaping.”

That caught my attention. What the heck was a reaping? “Reaping?”

It was his companion who gave me an answer. “Yes, the Nuri have taken residence in Ikeja, and every Ikejan knows that whenever the Nuri come, a reaping follows. The more prestigious the Nuri visitors, the more brutal the reaping. And I hear that this time the visitor is as prestigious as the Nuri get,” he leaned closer and whispered, “the Eze himself.”

I reeled from the shock of those words. The Eze was in Ikeja? It made absolutely no sense.

The man’s eyes widened and shimmered with the thrill of having knowledge which was clearly highly prized. “The last time we had a truly brutal reaping was when Oza Onitsha came to Ikeja. There were wailing mothers rolling in the muck of the ogiri for weeks after.” He chuckled.

“It is nothing to joke about,” the bleached one chastised, his voice a low growl. Then he turned to me. “Forgive me, your excellency, we will not speak of such upsetting things.”

The words came from their mouths, I heard them, and even understood them to some degree, but I could not get past the reeling, and how heavy my head suddenly felt. I cleared my throat. “Why would the Eze of Nuri be welcome in Ikeja?” The stories Debisi told me came back in a rush. The Eze of Nuri had stolen the Alake of Ikeja’s only son and enslaved him. It was the shared hatred of the Eze of Nuri that now bound the Ooni and the Alake of Ikeja. It made absolutely no sense that the Alake would welcome the Eze, or really any Nuri.

“Ikeja is like a fruit rotting from the inside, and the Alake is the root of the rot. He is friends with the Nuri, he permits them free walk of the land. He allows them the Oro forest for their hunt, their reaping.” He snapped his fingers, as if to cast off an evil spirit. “Even now he dines with the Eze of Nuri on the flesh of the Bono.”

I shook my head. “No.” It made no sense. The Alake of Ikeja loathed the Eze of Nuri, I knew at least that much from Debisi’s tale. What was the son’s name…it was right there on the tip of my tongue, I remembered it had made me smile when Debisi mentioned it in connection with his sister, Lola…Kola… that was it, Kola. the Eze of Nuri had stolen Kola, enslaved him, and then sent him back to his father, who’d refused to claim a slave as his son. The Alake of Ikeja hated the Nuri as much as the Ooni did.

The albino leaned forward. “Why do you think the Alake refused the pure prince entrance to Ikeja? The Alake might be as thick as thieves with the Alaafin, but not the pure prince, the pure prince wouldn’t stomach the reaping.”

I’d thought that the Alake of Ikeja had barred our entrance into the village as some sort of power play with Taiso, but it hadn’t occurred to me that there might be something, or someone, he didn’t want us to see in his village.

Ayisha.

The thought came out of nowhere. I couldn’t help it. What if Ayisha was in the village, only kilometers away from me? If the Eze of Nuri was in there, then the chances were high that Ayisha would be too. And what was this reaping they spoke about?

@Elvictor thank you...you're right at least Taiso admitted he isn't innocent, as for Debisi...anyway, let me not come and spoil it

@tunjilomo well, okay then, that's the feeling I get, humor when I've written it well...

@PenHub It's okay, you don't have to pick sides, me I've already picked my side, but I'll wait till the story ends to reveal who I was rooting for

@doctorexcel thank you very much!

@Tuhndhay yes oh, I'm trying my hand at something new, no magic, just as much intrigue as I can manage

DarkPheonix:
This story is something else, this one of the best story I have ever read,
Obehid you a great writer I am wowed.


This is the first story I have read authored by you, and I will like to ask what inspired this story.
At the end of this story, I have such a great resentment towards all the imps and human in general, and if Cala actually ever die in the hands of imp after all as been through then I will even hate you the author.

Thank you so much, I'm so happy you enjoyed it!

The story was inspired in part by the previous marked stories, knowing the vacuum that this one had to feel. The other parts, I'm not even sure I remember right now. I'm sure I drew inspiration from a lot of things I'd read and watched.

Don't resent imps and humans we're not all bad, there are some good humans out there

“No,” Tiwo’s forehead creased, “the Alake of Ikeja is no fool. For some reason, he doesn’t believe he has any reason to fear you.”

“Me?” I asked, only listening with half an ear. Most of my attention was on Taiso, who was still so angry at the Alake’s treatment that he was snapping at the proprietor. “Negotiate our fees and see to it that the Alaafin’s mood does not cost us these fine accommodations.”

“Revered.” A guard bowed and withdrew to carry out my orders.

“Why are you not angrier, revered?” Mede asked

“This insult wasn’t meant for me. Besides, I’m too on edge to be angry.” And the Alake hadn’t really prolonged our journey. It was already evening, we would have spent the night in Ikeja anyway. What did it matter where we slept? Now, if the Alake tried to delay us tomorrow, it would be a whole different story. Not that he would, not even the Alake of Ikeja could be foolish enough to interfere with me getting to my girl.

“It may not have been meant for you, Tan, but the Alake had no issues subjecting you to it. Why is that?”

I leaned towards Tiwo and kissed him on his temple. “You worry too much.”

“You’re just eager to go to the den of iniquity,” he grumbled.

A sharp intake of air drew our collective attentions to Eghe. He was suddenly unable to meet my gaze. I just laughed and followed along when we were led to our rooms.

“You do not really mean to go to the den tonight, do you?” Mede had waited till I’d stripped off my clothes to ask me that. It was cute how she made sure to stare far away from my naked body. I ignored her, twisting the ends of my braids into a knot behind my head. I picked up a washing cloth, wet it and wiped the dirt of the road off my body. The proprietor had explained that there was a public bathhouse in the ogiri township we could use, but I was too impatient to wait.

I recognized how out of sorts I was. I was on edge, worried, not sleeping well…harried in a way that I had rarely been before. Ayisha needed me to be stronger, to be in control, and there was only one place I could go to recalibrate.

“What was wrong with…” Mede’s voice trailed off. She wasn’t staring at the wall anymore. My nipples pebbled at the attention her avid gaze gave them. Her mouth parted.

In an instant, my mind darted through every moment of the decade we’d spent together. My infatuation with her the first time I saw her. All the many ways I’d tried to prove myself to her. My endless flirting and her constant rebuffing. My chest tightened, and my body came alive under her relentless stare.

“Mede.”

A single word, a name delivered in an alien voice shaky with wishful hope, and the moment ended. She looked away. I sighed, laughing and cursing myself for the foolish pining. Mede didn’t want me, she’d made that much clear. Well, looking on the bright side, she’d done a good job of preparing me for this evening. Just one look and I was wet, the woman had magical powers.

“Forgive me revered,” the words came out awkward, “I did not mean to stare.”

“No apologies necessary. I should be thanking you actually.” I brushed the washcloth between my legs and wasn’t too surprised to find that my clit was already starting to swell. I made quick work of the rest of my body.

“Thanking me?”

“For turning me on. You have one devilish look girl. Now I’m more than ready for a night of iniquity.” I expected her gasp and winked at her when her shock predictably brought her gaze back to me. Sadly, she kept her eyes trained above my neck. I turned my back on her, walking to retrieve a simple tunic. The boubou dress reminded me of Ayisha and the gown she’d been wearing when I saw her in the Bono palace. It brought me a pang of pain, but not enough pain to dull the arousal Mede had awakened. I slipped into the dress, mindful of Mede’s gaze as I turned back around.

“We should go down. I’m famished. Arousal does that to a person you know.”

She groaned. I laughed.

“Why was Eghe so flustered?” She asked, reaching for the door handle.

“Who do you think I’m going to be playing with in the den?”

She froze. An indecipherable look crossed her face. Then she chuckled. “Very funny, revered.”

I frowned at that. “If you say so.”

The dining hall was unusually quiet. The proprietor had sealed it for our benefit so that only the five of us dined in the spacious room. Taiso was notably absent. I sat beside Tiwo, enjoying the simple fare of jollof rice and fried turkey, with a renewed appetite I hadn’t felt throughout our trip. Tiwo watched me eating, his eyebrow lifted up, but he said nothing. He made light conversation with Neka instead.

It was obvious that Neka liked Tiwo. After a few shots of what appeared to be ogogoro, she was shamelessly flirting with him. It seemed that Taiso’s absence had done a lot to improve her mood. I don’t know what Tiwo said to her, but whatever it was apparently made her think he was ‘trouble’. She was laughing so hard I wondered how I could have missed out on the fact that Tiwo was such a comedian.

Debisi frowned at her, but she was too drunk to care. Two glasses of her drink later and she had her hand wrapped around Tiwo’s arm and her head resting on his shoulder.

“Neka,” Debisi’s cool voice cut one of her laughing fits short.

She flicked her fingers at him, as though she were shooing away a fly.

“Behave yourself, Neka, you are a married woman.”

She eyed him and hissed in reply. Tiwo chuckled.

“Oh relax, Bi, let her have a little fun.” I jabbed him playfully in the side.

His straight face showed he wasn’t having any of that. “It’s shameful. She’s making a fool of herself.”

“I don’t think she’s a fool, and neither does Tiwo. She’s drunk. There’s nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting.”

“Of course, you would think so.”

I stared at him.

“Forgive me, I’m not very good company right now.” He stood up and stormed away from the table.

I was in too much of a daze to react. I just gaped at the empty seat he’d just vacated. Debisi and I had just had our first fight. Not that it was really much of a fight.

“Tsk-tsk,” Tiwo whispered into my ear, “have I taught you nothing sister? Your trust in him is blinding you. Look.” I frowned at his cryptic words, even more confused when he reached for my chin and tipped my head in the direction of the door.

It turned out that my attention landed on the exit just in time. Debisi was being led away by a man in soldier’s garb.

“It’s the soldier from the wall,” Tiwo whispered to me, “the one he paid. What do you think your princeling is up to?” Tiwo turned his focus back to his meal, and to the woman who pouted for his attention. I couldn’t help but note that Neka’s drunken flirtations had stopped the minute Debisi left the table. Her attention had been fixed on the door, watching Debisi just as we had. Now she was back to chattering and flirting outrageously with Tiwo.

My gaze remained on the doorway, staring into the empty space and pondering Taiso’s allegations that Debisi had tried to have him killed. He’d freely admitted that he’d tried to have Debisi killed. The admission had bothered me then and it still bothered me now. Why would he admit to it? I thought about Debisi and the conversation we’d had after I confronted him about his sneaking out of the campsite at night. There’d been nothing on his features to show that he was lying, but his story hadn’t matched up with the details. I couldn’t help wondering if there was any truth to Taiso’s allegations.

Tiwo stood up. He got behind Neka and pulled her chair back, extending his hand out to help her to her feet. My brother, playing the role of gentleman. I watched without comment, as Neka swayed on her feet. Tiwo called to one of our female guards to help her to the toilet.

“Your princeling is very interesting.” Tiwo slumped back into his seat. “Almost as interesting as the princess. But your princeling is better at it.” He waited till Neka was out of the room, then he reached for her glass and took a cautious sip.

“Water?” I asked.

He nodded, his eyes gleaming. “Maybe she’s so in love with me, she doesn’t know any other way to express her feelings than to act drunk and throw herself at me.” He looked so innocent and hopeful when he said it, that if I didn’t know him better I would have actually thought he believed that filth.

“Was the soldier standing there before Debisi left the table?”

The humor faded from his face. He pulled my hands between his and held them tight. “The soldier was there before he chose to chastise Neka.” My jaw clenched. “He’s playing games, but I don’t think he’s a bad person, Tan. I just think there’s more to him than he wants you to know.” He kissed the back of my hand and pulled away. “I think he’s still a good match for you. You’ll just have to work on his jealousy.” He squeezed my hands before releasing them. “Which shouldn’t be a problem. The man is so in love with you, he’ll do anything to marry you.” He picked up his glass and sipped. “Now, what should I do about Neka?”

I wasn’t surprised that Tiwo had picked up on Debisi’s display of jealousy in Lekki. I considered his words and added them to the information I was gathering on Debisi.

It wasn’t till I heard the click of shoes that I remembered Tiwo’s question. “Make her laugh, but don’t sleep with her.”

He pouted. “Why do you get to have all the fun?”

“You could always come with me to the den.”

He shook his head. “My appetites are not quite as dark as yours. A simple Bleep will do for me. One of your fledgling tumblers has been flirting with me. I think I’m finally ready to take him up on his offer.” Tiwo rose and gallantly helped the ‘drunk’ Neka back into her seat. He continued to charm her effortlessly while I watched, contemplating. She was Nuri. Nuri by birth, raised in Nuri, but she’d been married to Taiso for a decade now. She’d obviously learnt a lot about Bono scheming in that time. To what end did she scheme though? And why did Debisi?

I couldn’t have been happier to leave the dining hall and all the knowledge it now held. Perhaps the den was darker, the release I sought in it more complicated. But in that moment, my desires seemed like the simplest part of this day.

17

I captured an image of the oko-orisha forest in my head as we rode out of Lekki. The leather pouch of dried oko-orisha moss in my trunk assured that I left with a little reminder of the small village and the short respite it had provided. According to the Alake, the moss was imbued with the oko-orisha mami wata’s graces of good health and longevity, when taken in small dozes. In large dozes, they warned that it was quite a powerful laxative. I took the moss, not for the charms it was rumored to have, but for the memento of the picturesque green forest.

After that stop, the rest of our journey proceeded without incident. We rode hard for hours on end, stopping twice each day to rest our horses, and then finally at night, when we made camp on the roadside.

I was troubled throughout our journey, plagued by worries for Ayisha. I couldn’t help but see her face, frozen in terror, pleading to no avail with the monster who’d kidnapped her. I wondered how much damage would have been done to her with each day that we spent travelling. Each time the fear took root in my heart, I dug my heels into my horse and it ran faster, but it was never fast enough. I tried to distract myself with conversation, but sleep came harder for me each night that we spent on the road. I dreamt of Ayisha and the horrors she endured and woke sweating.

It was on one of those nights, when sleep eluded me, that I walked out of my tent and found Debisi sneaking away from the campsite. He rode off on his horse and none of the guards stopped him. I spoke with one of my tumblers after and found out that Debisi had snuck off every night that we’d been camped out, and that he’d return a few hours before dawn. When I questioned him about it, he smiled at me, looked me in the eyes, and said he was having trouble sleeping in his tent, and he rode to exhaust himself. He’d said it so calmly, his features so open, that I couldn’t find even the slightest hint of a lie in his expression.

Yet, I couldn’t help the feeling that he was lying to me. There was no way that he went out riding for over six hours to exhaust himself. Maybe there was some truth to the tale he told, but he wasn’t telling me everything, and it worried me.

Still, we kept going. It took us five days to reach Ikeja. The village was not quite what I had expected. Right off the bat I could see what my mother meant when she said it was provisioned as a garrison. It had a wall around it, a large white wall, smooth and circular, that appeared to be sculpted from marble. There were soldiers on that wall, armed with crossbows trained at us. I noted that the village was better protected than the palace. It did make sense, being a border village, that it would be so well guarded.

As we drew closer to the wall, Taiso explained that the only other way into Bono from Nuri, was by sea, across the Nulin river, or through the Oro forest. According to Taiso, no one had ever successfully made it across the forest from one nation to the other. He said there were no guards in the forest, just Oro mami watas that turned people into wild animals. It was the kind of fanciful tale that I would have expected to hear from anyone but Taiso. But I could tell by the way he crossed himself after speaking that he truly believed in it. I found that interesting, but I made no comments.

Tiwo and I shared a look after Taiso spoke. Even he refrained from teasing. It was not smart to make fun of the servants of a masquerade. We rode quietly towards the main gates into Ikeja. By the time we arrived, a line had formed in front of the gates. One of the Bono guards blew on a horn and the people fell away. There were no warm cheers and shouts of praises for the princes. No teary eyes filled with wonder or shock. Just silence and cold eyes that showed neither love nor hatred. They simply watched our entourage with apathy.

The gates opened to welcome us in, and I caught my first view of Ikeja, or rather, what Taiso termed the ogiri of Ikeja. The wall we’d seen was just an outer wall. There was an inner wall, one about fifty kilometers away from the outer. In the space between the walls, the ogiri, there was a thriving hamlet with markets and buildings of varying colors. If the rest of the Bono nation was white, the ogiri of Ikeja had all the color that those places lacked. The color was in the brown mud that our horses kicked up. In the paintings on the walls of the buildings that filled the ogiri. It was in the people too. There were brown skins as dark as the Isan, and those as light as the Nuri. I caught sight of a few albinos, but they were vastly outnumbered by those with dark skin.

We rode past a half-dressed man, pulling out buckets of water from a well and filling the drums of those queued up for the service. They handed him a copper kobo, the lowest denomination of Nulin money, and he continued his labor, his body soaked in sweat. I spotted a small space between two houses where three little children, two boys and a girl, took their evening baths. The ogiri was packed full of houses, one built almost on top of the next. Where there was even the tiniest space, someone erected a tent and sold something underneath it. We passed by a woman roasting bole over an open fire. She called out bargain prices to us as we moved on.

The most colorful thing about the ogiri, as far as I was concerned, was the smell. It reeked of a cocktail of foul odors. I was almost certain I caught the whiff of excrement in one breath and rotting food in the next. I had never smelled anything so fetid.

“Believe it or not,” Taiso remarked, “Ikeja is actually one of the most verdant villages in Bono. It is as fresh behind those walls as it is foul out here.” I couldn’t begin to imagine a level of freshness that could counteract the dreadfulness of the ogiri, but I anticipated the promise of clean air.

It was evening, a few hours after the sun had set, and yet there were still so many people moving about. I found it hard to imagine my mother ever living here. Knowing her, she would have kept herself closeted behind the inner walls and travelled in a closed carriage whenever she had to leave.

My heart lifted when at long last we reached the inner walls. Five soldiers stood in front of the large stone doors. These doors were as white as the rest of the wall. If not for the hinges, it would have been hard to spot that they were indeed the halves of a door. The soldiers standing in front of it barred our entrance. They were all male, all dressed similarly to the palace Bono guards in white shirt and trouser sets, with white leather sword belts on their waists. The frosty white of their hair made it clear that they all had bleached skin.

“Your highness,” one of them approached and bowed to Taiso. “The Alake was not expecting you till tomorrow. I’m afraid we will not be able to welcome you into the village till then. We will lead you to suitable ogiri dwelling.”

I just barely kept myself from gaping at the guard who’d spoken. When I was just a child in Isan, running around and getting lost in the border villages, whichever Enogie whose village I fell on, immediately welcomed me in as an honored guest. For an Alake to turn princes away because he was not ready to receive them, was unheard of.

Taiso’s hands tightened on his reins. “Surely, the Alake can hasten his preparations.”

The soldier shook his head. “Those are not my orders.”

Which implied that orders had been given. The Alake was purposefully making us wait outside the inner gates on his pleasure. I jerked my head back and looked up the walls, at the soldiers on guard there and the crossbows held idly in their hands.

Taiso’s jaw ticked. “If he cannot receive us in his home, then we will find accommodation somewhere else in the village. Open the gates.”

“Those are not my orders, your highness. There is a suitable inn, in ogiri township. I will lead you there.”

“You dare defy me?” the words came out low and filled with cold menace.

The soldier did not flinch at Taiso’s tone. “I have my orders, highness. Will you fight your way through?”

I looked up at the wall again and the soldiers with their crossbows. The wall was smooth, too smooth to climb all the way to the top, and we had no way of breaking down the stone doors. We had no choice.

The soldier took Taiso’s silence as an answer. He nodded slowly. It was obvious he took no joy in his job. “Then I will lead you to the inn.” He whistled and a young boy, jogged up to him, leading a brown horse by the reins. The boy gaped at us, but he moved quickly, hurriedly tossing the reins to the soldier and dodging out of the way. The soldier jumped seamlessly onto the back of the horse and began riding. We followed silently in his wake, Taiso fuming with each trot.

“Tan.”

I turned when I heard Tiwo calling out to me, and then tipped my head back in the direction he inclined his in. One of the soldiers was speaking with Debisi. We were too far away to tell what they were speaking about, but not so far that I couldn’t see Debisi hand the soldier a money pouch.

“What do you think that’s about?” Tiwo asked.

I shrugged, then I turned back around. Neka was staring. I wondered if she’d tell Taiso what she’d seen, but she said nothing. There was a calculating gleam in her eyes as she turned her focus away from Debisi.

“I hate this place.” Tiwo whispered to me.

For some reason, the comment made me laugh. Bono scheming. It did not surprise me to see it, what surprised me was that Debisi was in the middle of it.

The Ikeja soldier led us to a part of the ogiri that was much cleaner than the parts we’d ridden through. The houses in this area were spread out, the ground paved with concrete. We were led to a large inn, three stories tall. I noticed as we rode by that a particular building held the Bono guards attentions. They murmured as we passed it, snickering and making bawdy jests. A glance in that direction showed a two story building painted the red of Isan clay soil. It was a den of iniquity, one furnished with Isan pleasure slaves.

I smiled at Tiwo. He smirked at me and rolled his eyes. “Really?”

“I need recalibration.” The words were scarcely out of my mouth before it occurred to me how callous they might sound to him. We hadn’t spoken of his confessed love for Ayisha since the night we left Lekki. I wasn’t sure how he’d take my interest in a den of iniquity.

“You should go.” Tiwo said.

I couldn’t help guarding my expression. “You think so?”

He chuckled. “It calms you, Tan. You’ll be better off for it. Besides, could you deny him?” Tiwo jerked his head sideways. I followed his gaze and chuckled when I saw the hopeful pining on Eghe’s face. When I turned back to my brother, he winked at me, and smiling, turned his gaze back ahead.

The Ikeja soldier bobbed a curt nod to Taiso, as soon as we reached the inn, then turned back around and galloped off. His meaning was clear, whatever lodging we found at this inn would be at our own expense. The Alake of Ikeja was sending a message, I just wished I knew exactly what the message was, and who it was intended for. Considering what I imagined must be a fraught relationship between the Alake and my mother, seeing as my mother was currently pregnant with the Ooni’s child while being married to him, I could imagine a number of reasons for the Alake’s discourtesy. And if I was alone, it would make sense. But why would the Alake think it was okay to treat the future Ooni in this manner? I remembered that there was some history between Taiso and my mother’s husband, a secret Debisi had told me the Alake had on Taiso, but the Alake had to know he was taking a very big risk antagonizing Taiso this way. Whatever he had on Taiso, had to be something extraordinary.

The thoughts drifted through my head as we dismounted, surrendering our horses to the inn’s stables. A dark-skinned man ran out of the inn bringing two dozen servants with him. He bowed and made obscenities to Taiso, fussing over the Alaafin, while his servants saw to our trunks.

“What do you think mother’s husband means by this?” Tiwo whispered to me as we were ushered into the inn. “Are we being punished for her infidelity?”

“The Alake is a fool.” Mede deadpanned.

I ignored them, filling my nostrils with the sweet smell of perfumed air.

@dawno2008 Thank you so much! I'm soo happy that you're enjoying it and I love all the twists and turns that's why I try to keep them coming

@NoChill thank you

@cassbeat yes, yes, that's me, lol

@PenHub We're watching Tiwo and Neka? Okay oh, if you say so, I watch them with you As for Debisi and Taiso...anyway let me just hold my lips

@monalicious Yes indeed it is...well at least I think so, lol

@Goldenfinger I try to keep the updates regular, to Saturday mornings.

@tunjilomo Yes I have, I always do, I read and re-read everything I write. Mostly when I read if I'm enjoying it it's because somethings are funny. I never feel any suspense when I read my own work, since I know what's going to happen, so it's always about which characters and scenes make me laugh. If you don't mind my asking, where did this question come from? Just curious...

Debisi’s words troubled me. I turned to Taiso and he was smiling, nodding approval at his brother, but his eyes told a different story. I saw a hate so profound in those orbs that I found myself searching for my brother. Tiwo was studying Taiso too. I could feel his brain working, putting it all together. He wouldn’t need to know Debisi’s story to understand everything happening between them. He would pick it up in the undercurrents. In the way the nobles now cheered Debisi. In the way several of them reached to touch him, to clap his back, to squeeze his shoulders. The older man seated beside him leaned in and whispered into his ears. He was swearing loyalty to Debisi. I could tell, and I noted that Debisi didn’t pull away until he noticed me watching. In the moments before he pulled away, he nodded, only a fraction, a minute bobbing I caught because I was studying him. Then he shook his head when he caught my gaze, smiled and whispered something back I couldn’t hear.

I felt like an idiot.

How hadn’t I seen it before? Debisi played the game. He was not quite as opposed to ruling as he’d have me believe.

We stared at each other.

“Thank you, Alaafin.” Silas said. “Thank you.”

Debisi fidgeted with his glasses, his sign of nervousness. But was it feigned? He hadn’t looked nervous. Yet he ducked his head shyly, and mumbled some words out about how he was only speaking for his father and that it was nothing. That last part sounded like the Debisi I’d come to know. But, by the masquerade, I could no longer tell if it was sincere or an act.

“The Alaafin is very humble,” Toju whispered to me. “I’d heard it before, but I’d also heard that he was weak, unlike his brother who was strong and sure. But there is strength in Alaafin Debisi, isn’t there? And compassion.”

“What does Alaafin mean?” I asked Toju.

He frowned at me. “Heir.”

“I thought there was only one.”

Toju colored, chastised. His gaze turned back to his meal. The conversation that arose in the wake of Debisi’s speech was subdued, lacking the previous careless gaiety, but there was a fierce sense of purpose underlying it. They believed Debisi.

“Forgive me, revered, I did not mean to offend. I thought you were on Alaafin De…I mean Alake Debisi’s side. I heard that you were betrothed.”

I turned to Toju. Sides? Debisi had shown me quite a bit this night that I wasn’t certain I liked. First his jealousy, then his anger, now this subtle powerplay. I shoved it to the background. Right now, my focus had to be on Ayisha. Bono scheming and politics would wait until I got Ayisha back.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” I told Toju. He smiled, completely at ease with the world again. “Can you tell me Toju, what is the Oza’s aha?” I was curious.

He excitedly described the lines and swirls, loops of circles, that outlined the second strata which Oza Onitsha belonged to. The conversation drifted towards his nephew and the Eze’s aha. In the end, we both laughingly came to the conclusion that it would be impossible to describe the personal insignia of the crown underneath the marking of first strata the Eze bore. He promised to send me a book of aha markings, a duplicate of one he had. We spoke some more about how the aha could have been copied and Toju told me that it wasn’t just the aha they went on, but the Oza’s body. The Oza’s body structure was known. His height, his girth, that combined with the aha, pointed at it being the Oza’s guilt. He thanked me silently for ending the Oza’s life and swore himself in my debt. I shook my head and told him it wasn’t necessary, but he just smiled and turned back to speaking with his cousin.

I spent the rest of the meal filled with unease. The discontent between the Nuri and the Bono had reached a boiling point and I did not want Ayisha caught in the middle of it. It was clear that I would be. The Nuri and Bono could not go to full-fledged war without the Isan being involved. Honestly, I couldn’t say I minded. The Nuri treated their slaves abominably, treated their women only slightly better, and now they were stealing nobles from the Bono. How much longer till they decided to steal my own Isan nobles for their slaves? They had to be stopped. But I had to take care of Ayisha first. I had to make sure she wasn’t caught in the crossfire.

By the time the meal ended, I was only more than happy to go to my room and sleep.

“Tiwo!” I called out, hoping to have a quick word with him before we went to bed. I did not like the idea of us fighting. Especially not when I was not fully sure why. But Tiwo had other plans. He ignored me and stormed out of the dining hall.

I made to follow him.

Taiso intercepted me.

He looked thoughtfully at the door that Tiwo had just walked out of. “If I may be so bold as to offer some advice, revered, you should not let your brother act that way, especially not in public. It undermines your rule when he disrespects you like that.”

“Tiwo is my twin, your highness, my flesh and blood. My pride is nothing in the face of that. He can act whichever way he wants towards me whenever he pleases. And no, you may not be so bold in the future.” I turned to move around him, he moved a little to the side blocking my path.

He clasped his hands behind his back, fixing a level stare on me. “I want us to be friends Tan, is that too much to ask?”

I glared at him. “Call me revered, just as I call you highness. We are not friends.” My gaze moved towards Debisi, who stood off to the side watching us. “I doubt we could ever be.” Toju was right, whatever doubts I had about Debisi, I had already picked sides.

Taiso followed my gaze and his jaw clenched. Then he exhaled and I could not doubt the sincerity of the sorrow I saw in his face. But all he said was, “I see.”

“If you will excuse me, your highness.” I began walking away, so fraught with emotions that if he’d tried to stop me, I would have put him on his ass.

Taiso made no moves to stop me but his words did the job for him. “There is more than one side to every story, revered. Please do not judge me until you’ve heard mine.”

I was tired of the bullshit. I turned on him. “What could you possibly say to defend you trying to have your brother killed?” I did not actually know that he’d done it.

“He tried to have me killed many times before that. You don’t know Debisi, revered, you only think you do. My brother is a brilliant actor.”

Taiso was admitting it. I couldn’t believe it. He’d actually tried to have his brother killed. I looked into his face, but it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. It was sad. So sad. Something about his last sentence sounded oddly familiar to me, as if I’d heard it before, used in a similar context.

“Please, revered, do not get involved in the politics, do not try to buy my throne for Debisi. Debisi and I have reached an agreement. Ask him about it and honor it. I’ve come to admire you a great deal, and I will always consider you a friend, revered, even if you do not return the sentiment. You can always count on my support.” Then he bowed to me and walked away.

I gaped at his retreating back, completely at a loss for words.

“What did he want?” Debisi joined me.

No, I shook my head. I was tired, too tired to get myself muck-deep in their family squabbles. I needed time to process all of this. I needed time to sort out the doubts I couldn’t help but feel towards Debisi. I needed time, and I needed to know that my girl was safe.

“Revered,” Mede came to my side. “Would you like to retire for the night?”

I nodded. “Goodnight Bi.” I kissed him on his cheek and left him standing there, too tired to care about the confused worry I left him with.

Once we’d left the hall, Mede handed me a book. “From Toju, revered. Apparently, you told him to seduce me.” She sounded amused.

I smiled and accepted the book from her. It was really just a collection of sheets fixed together with hemp. I skimmed through, glancing at the different ahas portrayed inside. “Was he successful?”

She scoffed.

I laughed, then I turned to her and my smile widened at the sight of her smirk. “I hope you didn’t break his heart. That wouldn’t be very nice, not after the Alake has done so much to make us welcome.”

“He’ll survive.”

Her comment had me laughing all the way back to my room. There were already two tumblers standing in front of the door. I frowned at that. Why were they guarding an empty room?

“Do you need anything, revered?” Mede asked.

I heard a strain in the word ‘anything’. That question coming from anyone else would only mean one thing. But with Mede, I couldn’t even trust that the strain I heard wasn’t my own wishful thinking.

“Anything like what?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Anything.”

I was so tired, worried about Ayisha, troubled by Tiwo’s behavior, and reeling on the wheel between Debisi and Taiso, that it would have been so nice to be able to forget for a night. I would have given anything to be able to take what I needed from Mede. But we’d been down this road, and she’d said, ‘no’ in every way possible. I shook my head at her, suddenly angry and irritated at her for making such a vague offer. I stormed into my room.

Tiwo was seated on the ground, his back resting on the bed with Bonnie curled at his feet, sleeping. He idly stroked the dog’s fur. The door closed and Tiwo’s head jerked up. With the braids that had been hiding his face pulled back, I could see that he’d been crying. I rushed over to him and sat by his side. Then I drew him close and rested his head on my shoulder. He wrapped his hands around me and wept. I soothed him, running my hand through his braids.

We stayed like that for a long time. Long after he stopped crying and simply leaned on me.

“What is it, my love?” My voice was entreating, it was a tone I used with my pleasure slaves, a tone I’d used with Ayisha. My heart twisted, but I pushed the ache away, covering it up with determination. I would find her. “You’re scaring me.”

“I love her Tan.”

“What?”

“Ayisha, I love her.”

I froze. The ache in my chest returned with a vengeance. “Oh, Tiwo, why didn’t you tell me?”

He shook his head, his hair scratching softly against me. “I have never been the one she wants. Besides, I know you love her too, and I could never take love away from you. I just…I’ve been blaming you for this Tan. But it’s my fault. I’m the one who sent her away when she wanted to marry you. I’m the one who said no. I was jealous. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop it,” I kept my voice soft, “it’s not your fault. You’re right, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have sent her away. I shouldn’t have agreed to the plan of her marrying the Sehzade. I was selfish, Tiwo, she gave herself to me and I allowed her to get hurt. I won’t be able to forgive myself if anything bad happens to her.”

Tiwo forged ahead, ignoring my words, determined to take the blame. “It was the pettiest thing I’ve ever done Tan, pushing her away from marrying you. I wanted to say something then, but I have little prospects, certainly not enough to impress an emperor, and she didn’t want me anyway. In the end, I wanted what was best for her. Which was you, it’s always been you. I shouldn’t have gotten in the way.”

It was time to put an end to his pity party. I firmed my voice. “You didn’t, and you couldn’t have stopped us from marrying if we wanted to. This isn’t your fault Tiwo.” I wove my hand through his braids. “I just wish I’d known how you felt about her.”

He shook his head. “How I felt doesn’t matter, I’m just sorry that I’ve been such a pain today. I’ll be better, I swear.”

I kissed him on his head. “You can be a pain whenever you want.”

He chuckled. “Can I sleep here tonight?” he yawned.

“Of course.”

“Good, cause I was going to anyway.”

I shoved at him. He chuckled.

He loosened his hold on me and rose. “We’ll get Ayisha back, right?”

“Yes.” I said.

He nodded. Then he slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed. “Bonnie will probably join us when she wakes up.”

I glared at his lying form, but then I just shook my head and laughed. Knowing Tiwo, he’d be snoring off in a few minutes.

“Tan,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Be careful with Debisi. I think there’s more to him than he shows.” Then he predictably dozed off a few minutes later, snoring the way he always did when he went to bed after crying. He’s snoring was light, though, and it relaxed me, so I wouldn’t complain.

I prepared myself for bed, all the while thinking about Ayisha and how I’d let her go off to marry the Sehzade. It hadn’t bothered me. I’d never been a jealous lover. I’d known that I would see Ayisha again, and those little dozes would have been more than enough for me. I would be a hypocrite to think otherwise. Even when I’d had her for a year, I’d still had pleasure slaves and neither of us had denied the other pleasure from others. Then I thought of Debisi’s jealousy and I felt a knot in the pit of my belly. Debisi and I had to talk, and I had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what I had to say.

Later. We’d talk about it later, after I rescued Ayisha, after I’d taken him to Isan and he’d seen my pleasure slaves for himself. If he couldn’t share me, then he couldn’t have me. I had to tell him. It was the last thought I had before Tiwo’s snoring lulled me to sleep.

16

Dinner in the Alake’s mansion was unexpectedly charming. The dinning hall was a simple white room with a long rectangular table. Servants, dressed in white tunics, lined the walls, filling our cups with ogogoro and our plates with wraps of pounded yam and ladles of ogbono soup, which I inferred from the Alake’s pointed look in my direction, had been cooked in my honor. While pounded yam and ogbono soup was one of our Isan cultural meals, it was not my favorite. Still, I was touched that they’d chosen a meal in my honor and I made sure to say so.

I washed my hand with the water proffered by one of the servants and carefully pulled apart the leaf-wrapping covering the mound of pounded yam. Then I cut off a chunk of it and immersed it in the brown draw-soup, all too aware of the eyes watching me with silent anticipation. When I swallowed, the spicy morsel slipping easily down my throat, its passage greased by the soup, I made sure to release an audible rumble of pleasure. The Alake smiled. Her grandson, who’d positioned himself beside me, let out an ear-splitting roar. Then the dining hall erupted in a blaze of cheerful conversation and hearty laughter. The meal began, and I felt at ease in the casual environment that followed.

“I have long since dreamed of visiting Isan. Now that I’ve seen the beauty of its women, I know that I will earnestly endeavor to make that dream a reality.” The Alake’s grandson, Toju, teased. He was an albino, as was every member of the Alake’s family. Toju looked to be about as old as I was, maybe a few years older. He was big, with muscles that told of a living derived from physical exertions. It was a look he shared with his father, the husband of the Alake’s second daughter.

I turned to face him, smiling slyly at his comment. Debisi who’d been seated opposite me, had a slight crease on his forehead. “What exactly do you think you could do with an Isan woman?”

“A great deal,” he winked at me. There was no blush. He may wear the virgin iro, but something told me that chastity was not a tenet he truly practiced. His voice lowered to a whisper. “I have heard a great many things about your…inclinations, revered, would it be too forward of me to ask for the pleasure of your company later?”

The laughter burst out of me. I leaned closer to Toju. “And what exactly have you heard?” my tone matched his.

“That no man who walks into your bedchamber walks out the same.” There was a twinkle in his eyes when he spoke. “That your calling of guidance gives you the gift to see through to a person’s innermost yearnings and you bring it all to life.” It wasn’t the words that stirred me, but the undercurrents of longing I heard beneath them. He reminded me of Eghe. It had been a long, exhausting, day and playing with Toju would at least be cathartic. I was stopped from considering it further, when Debisi called my name.

“Tan.”

It wasn’t really a snap, not really, but it came damned too close to one for my liking. I pulled further away from Toju and turned to face Debisi. He was jealous. He glared at me, through eyes narrowed to slits behind his faux glasses, and his jaw ticked, counting off the seconds we stared at each other. Ah. I should have expected it, the fact that I didn’t troubled me. I had pleasure slaves, ‘an Alake’s mansion’ filled with them, in his own words. I would not give them up for anyone and I could not marry any man who expected me to remain faithful to only him. The thought made my skin tingle with dread, because I already knew that a part of me would hurt to hurt Debisi. But if his vision of marriage was one where he was the only one in my bed, then either his vision would change, or the prospect of our marriage had to. Either way, there was hurt coming.

The food no longer seemed so inviting.

“Forgive me for my forwardness, revered, I was at fault.” Toju spoke, but his gaze was directed at Debisi. When he turned back to face me, his solemnity had given way to a wicked humor evident in the twist of his wry grin. “Do you think your bodyguard would be more amenable to my request?”

His attention was on Mede. I stared at her, smiling when her eyes narrowed. She didn’t like men in general, but she’d been known to make a few exceptions. “Well, you can try,” I replied.

He laughed, then turned his attention to his young cousin who poked impatiently at his side.

I turned my gaze back to Debisi and stared his anger down. His shoulders slumped, but when the anger went away, it was replaced by so much sadness, I almost wished for the anger to return. For once, I was happy to hear Taiso’s voice, tearing my attention away from Debisi and his pain.

“The Alake has found fifty horses for us to take, revered, exactly enough for your soldiers. Our guards will return to the palace tomorrow. Debisi, Neka and I will be placing ourselves entirely in your protection for the duration of our travels.”

“Would that I could be so luckily as to claim the privilege of placing myself entirely in the protection of you, revered, and your beautiful warriors!” Toju announced cheerfully. He winked at Mede.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. The man was incorrigible, and the masquerade be praised, I appreciated that in him. His humor was like a nice cooling balm at the end of a day rife with unpleasantness.

I lifted my glass of ogogoro up to him, in a silent toast, then I drank a little from it, before turning to face Taiso. Neka sat beside him, eyeing me with all the hostility she kept concealed from others. I had another fleeting thought that her presence on this trip was illogical, but I kept my focus on Taiso. I’d earned Neka’s animosity. First in my own right, by accepting the responsibility for her father’s death, and second by being the daughter of the man responsible for trapping her in what was obviously a terrible marriage.

“We are flattered by your trust, your highness.” I tipped my glass in Taiso’s direction. He bowed to me. “How about we split it? Take twenty-five each of both of our guards.”

“You are the soul of generosity, revered, thank you.”

The conversations resumed then and Toju regaled us with a tale of his first trip to a Bono den of Iniquity. Tiwo, with his sulking, had chosen to sit as far away from me as possible, too far to hear Toju’s descriptive recounting of the terror of sneaking out at night and riding alone from his village, to the large neighboring village where the den was located.

“Tah!” Toju’s mother snapped at him, cutting him off. “My own son! You speak of it as if it is a great lark, when all it is, is your own stupidity! What if the eshu had caught you and taking you away from me?” The older woman’s voice quivered on the word ‘eshu’, and as soon as she mentioned it, the hall fell silent. It was so quiet that if Toju spoke up now, even Tiwo, sitting as far away as he was, would hear every word Toju said.

“Eshu?” I asked.

One of the Alake’s granddaughters sat on my other side. She explained in a voice shaky with terror. “The eshu are Eyo mami watas. Whenever they visit our land during the Eyo festival, they choose virgins, pure of heart and body, to take back with them.”

“Only now, the eshu don’t just visit during the Eyo festival, they are always here, always on the prowl for virgins to gift to the masquerade.” It was one of the Alake’s many grandchildren that offered up this information.

“Nonsense.” The Alake’s oldest son in-law snapped. “It is not eshu stealing away our young nobles, it is the Nuri.”

Rumors of this had reached me in Isan, but I had not known that there was conflict amongst the Bono as to who the perpetrators of the kidnapping were. “Are the Nuri truly so bold that they come this close to the palace to kidnap people?”

My question met with silence. Then the Alake’s oldest granddaughter, the one with children of her own, pushed her chair back and ran out of the room. I’d noticed that the woman was quiet, and appeared reserved and inexplicably sad, which stood out in a family so exuberant. Toju explained why.

“Her eldest child was taken from the Oko-orisha forest.”

The Oko-orisha forest, we’d been told earlier, was the forest we’d come through, with trees covered fully in moss. The villagers believed the forest was sacred, given to them by the Oko-orisha another Eyo mami wata. According to them, the Oko-orisha touched their land whenever it came down for the Eyo festival.

“And the Ooni did nothing about it!” The man, who’d been seated beside the woman who left, screamed. I assumed he was the woman’s husband, the father to the stolen child. “The Nuri brazenly walk amongst us, stealing noble children and what does the Ooni do? He hides quivering behind his high marble walls.”

“Silas!” There was a clear warning in the Alake’s tone. “Be mindful of our guests.”

All eyes turned to the princes, the Ooni’s sons. Debisi’s gaze lowered towards his plate, his face filling with red. Taiso sat with his head high. His hard gaze caught and held the man, Silas’s, till he stammered out an apology. Then Taiso’s gaze softened.

“I am sorry for your loss, my friend, truly. But you are wrong if you think my father does not care for your plight. He is grieved by this rash of Nuri stealing Bono nobles, but without proof, what can he do? Even amongst our own people, there are many who say it is the eshu responsible, and tell grieving parents to rejoice.”

“But there is proof, your highness,” Toju said, “eye-witnesses who’ve seen children taking by the Nuri. One even swears that he saw the Eze’s uncle, Oza Onitsha himself, brand and rape a Bono nobleman.”

The Oza that I’d killed? My eyes widened at the news. “Then there is sufficient proof of the Oza’s guilt.” I cast my gaze towards Tiwo, happy to see that he’d laid his anger at me aside, long enough to lock eyes. I saw his relief, whatever doubts we’d had about the Oza’s guilt was cleared.

“He wore a mask.” Debisi said. “They cannot know that it was him.”

“Lies!” Silas screeched. “Of course he wears a mask, but he wore no shirt, and the identity of a shirtless Nuri man is as plain to see as one with his face uncovered.”

“What does he mean?” I asked Toju.

“The Nuri adherence to their tenet of stratum dictates that they portray the tribal mark of their stratum on their chest. It is their aha, no free citizen of Nuri walks around without one, and each one is unique. They have a large mark, right below the space where their collarbones meet. The aha shows their strata, by virtue of gender and family, and a personal, unique, insignia beneath that, that shows their strata by virtue of position within the family. Everyone knows Oza Onitsha’s aha, just as everyone knows the Eze’s.”

“Can it not be copied?”

Toju shook his head grimly. “Think about it, revered. The Nuri wear their masks for prayers. Sometimes their prayers require them to make pilgrimages, to walk amongst commoners. They value their strata too much to allow lower stratums disrespect them. That’s why they expose their aha when they cover their faces, so even though their faces are covered their worth remains known. A person bearing the Oza’s aha would be giving the Oza’s respect and his word followed precisely. They would not allow anyone take the risk of violating that.”

The silence that followed his words was broken by a small voice. Neka’s. “Not only is it illegal, a crime punished by immediate execution, it is the gravest sacrilege to wear another person’s aha. It is damnation beyond death. No Nuri would do it.”

I frowned at her. “But you said your father was no rapist.”

Her head was bowed and her eyes downcast. I saw nothing of what lay in them, and her body was relaxed, showing no emotions I could see. She spoke softly. “I know my father. The eyewitness was mistaken. It was night and the only light from a moon, under a heavy tree shading. I am sorry for what was done, but it was not done by my father.”

I could tell that Silas was about to speak, but the Alake cut him off. “It’s enough. We will speak of better things.” She pronounced. Then her gaze turned to me. “If it pleases you, revered.”

I nodded.

“Just let me say one thing, olanla,” Debisi spoke up, his voice gentle, his face hard with determination, “before we close the topic.” I looked around and saw the eyes fixed on Debisi. They bore hope, a silent anticipation, an eagerness to devour his words. “The Oza is dead, killed by the Oba of Isan when he tried to profane a Bono nobleman on Isan soil.” A loud cheer erupted at that, from the younger nobles, and the older ones nodded with grim satisfaction, even the old Alake. They turned to me and smiled their approval. I could see it on their faces, that Debisi had just won me their loyalty. Though why I would need it I could not say. Nobody mentioned that the Bono nobleman had later been killed by my brother. Debisi rose his hand for silence, and the hall quieted. “Every time my father hears this news of Bono nobles disappearing, it grieves him. He’s as pained by your loss, as he was by his own, when his own daughter died because of the Nuri. Let no one ever say that the Ooni does not care. Let no one ever say that. There will be a reckoning, no evil done to the Bono will go unpunished.”

@Elvictor Lol, no, the length has nothing to do with voting. It was short because last week was pretty busy for me, but the next one is longer so you can look forward to do that

@tunjilomo I agree, the story is indeed about to begin in earnest...I'm so excited for it to begin

@dawno2008 As in, Tan is asking herself the same question because Tiwo is not usually this on edge. Betrayal from within? That is a very serious concern, hopefully Tan is careful. Yes, that was it for the update, but next one will (hopefully) be a more fulfilling dish lol

15

We rode off at dawn the following morning. We didn’t tarry. My mother and the Ooni stood underneath the white tarp, and watched as we rode away. The Ooni assured me that the presence of both of his sons would ensure that all the nobles we encountered on the way, gave us whatever aid we requested. So, we took our leave, leading our horses on a gallop down the white roads of the Bono capital. I left the nobles who’d accompanied me in the palace, taking only my tumblers and the warriors who’d found lodgings outside the palace gates.

We travelled across the official trade routes. They were roads for nobles and wealthy merchants, Taiso informed me. For some reason I was yet to decipher, he’d appointed himself my tour guide. I had too much on my mind to pay close attention to his prattling. Neka accompanied us. Her company made absolutely no sense. We rode without servants or lady’s maids, without luxuries, why would she choose to come? It was a minute anomaly I had no time to dwell on, and as such became nothing more than a bleep on the edges of my consciousness. Most of my thoughts were focused on Ayisha. She was sweet, my girl, and she could stand up for herself, but she also frightened easily. I didn’t think that she would have the will to deny the Eze when he attempted to force her into marriage, especially not when it was her father’s wish. Surely, she knew that her father would not want her to marry the kind of man that could cause the carnage of death that had been visited on the Iyo delegation. Burnt bodies, decapitated heads and limbs. Ayisha had to trust in her father more than that. What if she did refuse to marry the Eze? If he was psychotic enough to behead the Sehzade, he was evil enough to force her into marriage.

My fine Bono horse galloped beneath me, flowing effortlessly from hind legs to front legs and kicking up grains of white sand in the process. It was travelling at a good pace, but I itched to move faster. We travelled with guards, mine and several dozen of the Bono’s, who marched on foot in our wake. Travelling any faster would require them to run to keep up, and that would be cruel, not to mention unsustainable.

“We’re moving too slow,” Tiwo was frustrated. It wasn’t the first time he’d made the comment since we left the palace. Each time he said it, his voice sounded more and more strained.

“We’re going as fast as we can with our entourage.” I tried to console him.

Bonnie, his Bono dog, ran ahead of us. She turned around as I spoke and barked her disapproval at me.

Tiwo continued his litany of complaints, too distracted to pay much attention to Bonnie. “Do you know what that monster could have done to her by the time we reach there? Why do we need such a large contingent?”

I groaned. “Do you think that we’ll be able to sneak into the Nuri’s palace without assistance?”

“Yes!” he said stubbornly. His chin was jutted out and his face carved into a thoroughly uncompromising profile. His gem-sparkled braids bounced on his head as he rode.

“Just you and I?” I teased. “And what happens when I need aid?”

He turned in his seat and glared at me with such deep animosity that I cringed. For a long moment I could do nothing but stare back at the hard profile that my brother showed me. My mouth grew abnormally dry. There was more hatred in Tiwo’s face than I’d ever seen him direct at anyone, ever. It left me speechless. He snapped his head away, his braids ripping through the air, then he dug his legs into his horse’s side and lurched forward. Bonnie vaulted after him.

“I was only teasing,” I said, finding my voice much too late. My soft words fell unheard in his wake, swallowed by the plume of dust kicked up by his horse’s spurs.

I pulled sharply on the reins in my hands, and made to follow after him, when I saw two tumblers racing off in his wake. One of them was Eghe. Mede drew to a stop beside me.

“Don’t revered,” her voice was calm. “I will go with them, we’ll find him and make sure no harm comes to him.”

I shook my head. Mede’s gaze was warm and compassionate when I turned to meet it. “I can’t.”

“Yes, revered, you can. We will ride with him, till he’s ridden off his bad mood, then we will slow and wait for you to catch up with us. No harm will come to him. I swear it.”

My eyes scoured her face, digging into the deep brown irises, the long lashes that framed them, the heart-shaped lips that curved only slightly as she smiled. I sighed. If I rode off, my tumblers would race after me, and so would the soldiers traveling on foot. I nodded at Mede. She bowed and took off.

I watched the back of her horse till it disappeared.

“Your brother does not seem to respect you very much.” The voice that spoke was high-pitched and rung with a note of ill-concealed glee. Neka.

I didn’t bother turning to meet her gaze. Tiwo was right. The slow pace was killing me. We had to go faster, each moment we wasted was another one that Ayisha would suffer at the hands of her tormentor. I turned to face Taiso, instead.

He did not look pleased. He levelled a warning glance at his wife, one that wiped the smile off her face. Then he turned to me and made a fine sweeping bow from atop his horse. “Please forgive my olori, revered.”

I could not say that I had ever been the subject of such catty comments, at least never any made to my face. Still, I remembered that Neka was the Oza’s daughter and I remembered the tale that Debisi had told me the night before. My father was responsible for her marriage to Taiso, if she was unhappy in it, it was my father’s fault. Why? The question resurfaced in my thoughts. Why did my father seek to heal the breach through marriage? It had put an end to outright war between the nations, but it did not end the perpetual border skirmishes and the Nuri thieving of Bono nobles. The thoughts went away, replaced by others more pressing.

“Your highness, my brother was right about our pace. If you know of a place we could stop to provision as many of my soldiers as possible with horses, I would appreciate it. I will cover all expenses, of course.”

“Nonsense, we will cover the cost. The Ooni promised you whatever you needed. Lekki is ahead, we can stop there for the night and commission as many of their horses as they can spare.”

“I am grateful.”

He gestured for one of the Bono guards on horseback and sent the soldier off with a message for the Alake of Lekki. I smiled in gratitude and turned my attention back to the roads we travelled. Debisi had chosen to ride at the back of our contingent. I thought of Debisi and I couldn’t help but remember his reaction to the charred corpses and the doubts that it had raised. I trusted Debisi, I knew he was a good person, but I realized, the longer I rode with Taiso, that I had never really given him a chance. I’d hated him almost at first glance, when he’d tried battling wills with me, as if an Oba would give first bow to an Alaafin. And the way he’d treated his wife.

“He thanked me, and then in under a month all the nobles I’d mentioned to him were dead.”

Debisi’s words drifted into my thoughts. I caught a glimpse of Taiso out of the corner of my eye. He was much older than I was, in his thirties, but I couldn’t help but wonder at it all. He’d been willing to come so quickly to Ayisha’s aid, was he really the kind to kill nobles because they opposed him. And could I judge that. There were more than a few Obas in my lineage who’d silenced dissenters with assassinations. And who was to say that Taiso had actually killed those nobles. Debisi had implied, but he hadn’t said it. The worst crime against him was the way he treated Debisi. The way he’d laughed at him, made a mockery of him, beat him in front of his peers. That was what I couldn’t forgive. Why did he have to try so hard to win a throne that wasn’t even being contested?

I shook my thoughts free of Bono politics and focused on the journey ahead. It took four hours of riding before we caught up with Tiwo and the three tumblers who’d left with him. The tumblers melted back into their ranks, but Tiwo chose to ride beside Neka. I didn’t understand why he was so angry. Did he think he cared more for Ayisha than I did? It wasn’t as if he’d never been teased before about his inability to fight. Why was he so prickly all of a sudden? He ignored me and I chose silence to be the wisest course and did the same.

We rode for another hour and stopped for a quick lunch of meatpies and palm wine. The meatpies were big, more than enough for a single meal, with a minced meat filling so succulent I was loath to take the last bite. I washed it down with a cup of palm wine. Tiwo spent the entire meal ignoring me, prancing around with only Bonnie for company. Eghe kept an eye on him. Debisi was preoccupied. He had worry lines on his forehead, grooves that quickly disappeared the moment I asked him about them. He smiled off my concerns and chose to make small talk instead. I had too much on my mind to delve deeply into his. I left him with his secrets, more than happy to jump onto my Bono horse after the respite was concluded.

We continued our journey.

There was still two more hours of sunlight left in the day when we came upon the village Taiso had mentioned. We swerved off the straight trade road, weaving our way amidst a slight trail made to connect the village to the main road. Taiso explained that it was a small village.

“Why are we stopping?” Tiwo snapped at me. “We still have hours of sunlight!” His voice was loud enough that it caused a lull in conversation. I turned around and was met with eyes that did not quite reach mine. Only Mede looked me in the eye. I couldn’t blame the rest. Yelling at the Oba just wasn’t done. Even Tiwo usually didn’t cross that line. In private he spoke as he liked, but in public he never yelled at me so loud that it could be heard kilometers away.

I frowned at him, but I replied. My tone was cooler than it usually was when I spoke to him. “Horses. We’ll move faster with everyone on horseback.”

Tiwo grunted and then jerked his gaze away.

We rode on. I felt my braids drumming against my back as we moved over the bumpy trail. Any other time I would have been delighted by the landscape. The trees were dazzling. I had seen trees painted white in the palace, but these trees had green stems. I did not know how it was done, but the tree barks were covered completely in moss. It left an entire forest of green, with soft, inviting, green grass, and green leaves, and the occasional green fruits. It was beautiful and it felt surreal. I wished I had more time to gape at the view. But I didn’t, and so I took in as much as I could with Tiwo’s sulking chafing at me, while my concern for Ayisha filled my thoughts.

It was in the midst of this pensive mood that I rode into Lekki proper.

It turned out that the forest was on a hill overlooking the village. From the edges of the forest, we could see the entirety of the village sprawled out before us. There was a combination of mud and brick houses, all assiduously painted white. The village grounds were covered with white sand, and what spots not filled with white were green. Acres of farmlands filled with lush green. The people in the village all had white skin. From the distance I couldn’t differentiate between bleached and albinos, all I saw was a beautiful white and green village with walking white dots drifting about.

It wasn’t until we descended into the village that I learnt why Debisi had chosen to ride at the back.

The villagers assembled in clumps in front of their houses staring at us. They were all dressed in white iro wrappers, tied casually in various positions about their bodies. I caught sight of a group of elders seated on a white bench in front of a large square mud house, with chewing sticks hanging lazily from their mouths. They stared at us with narrowed eyes, while the younger ones standing, stared with wide eyes filled with wonder and slight notes of fear.

It wasn’t long till the first burst of ‘the Alaafin’ sounded. One by one, the villagers picked it up. They smiled, waved, and cheered, screaming welcomes to their Alaafin. The elders on the bench pulled their chewing sticks out of their mouths and smiled, showing unusually white tooth. They waved, some of them stood up, most couldn’t be bothered. I watched the reception idly as we forged ahead.

It was clear the moment that Debisi was spotted. Perhaps it was only clear to me because I’d been studying the reception so avidly. I heard the shouts of ‘our pure prince’ and ‘Alaafin Debisi’ punctuated through the cheers of welcome Taiso received. I turned around and noted that the villagers’ faces had grown warm. They’d gaped at Taiso in awe, but Debisi they loved. It was there in the shimmer of tears that appeared in their eyes and the children that ran into the lines to touch Debisi’s horse. Debisi hid himself in the middle so you had to be looking at him to notice that the children were running to him, the pointers pointing at him.

It was the kind of thing that was easy to miss when you rode in front. The people in front screamed for Taiso so loudly that when the screams of ‘pure prince’ arose, it was muffled by the cheers for ‘the Alaafin’. But the cries for the ‘pure prince’ were present, and if one listened for it, it could be heard.

Taiso sat straight in his horse, his proud gaze pointing ahead. He was dressed finely, in his adults iro with a silver sword belt that had a white-gold sword hilt pointing out of it. There was nothing in his profile to show that he heard the cheers for Debisi, but I knew he did.

I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. It was sickening to think that the only reason he wasn’t given the kind of unearned love Debisi received was because he’d been born with brown skin. Still, the color of his skin was no excuse to bully his brother. I was starting to think I understood why he did it now. It was driven by this love, the love that Debisi would always receive from strangers because he was born albino. I looked around and spotted a few people with bleached skin. They stood separate. There were huddles of albinos and then there were splashes of those with bleached skin standing apart, as if their skin made lepers of them. Even after we passed, those ones cheered for Taiso as fervently as the albinos cheered for Debisi upon sighting him.

I watched it all and somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered. Debisi was kind. He was sweet. I liked him for all the reasons I’d never liked Taiso. But I’d had a chance to get to know them both and then decide. I couldn’t imagine being judged and found wanting for no other reason than that I’d been born with dark skin. I knew that they bleached for their tenet of verdure, to be as pristine as it declared, but I couldn’t help but feel sad for them. I was suddenly extremely grateful that I was Isan.

It took us under an hour to get to the Alake’s compound. When we arrived, the Alake was waiting outside with a small group to greet us. The Alake was a plump woman of medium height, with greying hair. She looked to be in her late sixties. She had three old and married daughters, all of which were present, with their children, and in one’s case, grandchildren. The entire group that had come out to greet us was her family. She bade us welcome and assured us that the horses we’d requested were being assembled and would be ready first thing in the morning.

After a long day of riding that was fraught with Tiwo’s moodiness, I eagerly accepted the Alake’s hospitality. She boarded Tiwo, Taiso, Debisi, Neka and me in her mansion and pointed to outhouses and neighboring inns for the bulk of our guards. Ten of our guards were giving bunks in the servants’ quarters.

It wasn’t until I sunk into the large bathing tub that a servant had filled with warm water, that I let myself relax. I’d had one of my boxes unpacked and brought in. Two servants went through my clothes while another washed my back. I picked up a bar of soap and made quick work of the rest of my body. I knew that a single bathtub passed for luxury here, but I couldn’t help but miss the actual luxury of my bathing room. They at least had a pit toilet attached to the room with an elevated seating base. It was better than a bucket.

Light giggles drifted from the corner of the room where the servants saw to my clothes. They did not know of the Isan customs and so they knelt with their backs to me, giggling at whatever it was they’d found amusing in my box. The girls were all young, about fifteen, five years younger than I was. They had pretty faces, with yellow-white hair pleated in a cornrow on their heads. If I’d known what this trip would turn into, I would have brought my own servants. It was probably for the best that I hadn’t. The extended stay in the palace might have been a pleasure jaunt, but the rest would not.

I stepped out of the bathtub and accepted the towel that a servant handed me. Then I dressed and endured giggling bouts as they whispered to themselves and arranged my sleeping clothes on the bed. Once I was fully attired, in a simple form-fitting maroon gown, I went down for dinner.

@doctorexcel yup that's the plan, slowly turn up the intensity

@GeoSilYe you may be right about that...who can say...

@PenHub wow, that means a lot thank you

@cassbeat thanks for reading!

@millieademi WHOA this is huge...thank you, I can't believe that this story makes anyone feel like this, like wow, you made my day

A soft knock on my room door stopped me in the middle of my tossing. I sat up and called out in response. My guards knew me well. If I was asleep the knocking wouldn’t wake me up.

The door creaked open and a low voice inquired into the darkness, “his royal highness, the Alake of Ibadan, requests your presence.” It wasn’t Mede. I don’t know why I wished it was her soft voice reaching out to me. I imagined it would be easier to sleep if I had her in my arms.

“Let him in.”

The door opened wide, and Debisi walked in, carrying a lantern with white light streaming from it. The dim light got considerably brighter after the door closed.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said. I watched him as he drew closer. I was still angry with him. His apathy in the face of that horror somehow made him less to me. “May I?” he asked when he was standing by my bed.

He waited for my response, even when minutes passed and none came. That was so Debisi. He placed his lantern on the ground and just stood there, waiting. He wore his casual white galabia, but he’d left the glasses behind.

I nodded.

He sat at the edge of the bed. He scratched the side of his head, then I saw him reach with two fingers pinched together towards the side of his eye, and then pull the fingers away, as if just then remembering that he had no glasses to fidget with.

“Are you angry with me, Tan?” his soft voice stirred something in me that I couldn’t name. “I tried to talk to you, but you walked away.”

I sat up, leaning back against the solid bed post. Perhaps it had taken this night for me to be candid with myself, but I saw now, that there was so much more to Debisi. Perhaps I’d always seen, always known. He pretended he couldn’t fight, pretended to use glasses, pretended to be whatever version of himself that best suited his needs. His chameleon tendencies scared me. It made me feel like I could never fully trust him.

“Tan?” he kept his gaze on his hands in his laps, even when he called out beseechingly to me. Was that an act, a submissive posturing he put on to get to me?

“I’m tired,” I said, “it’s been a long day.”

“Oh.” He didn’t move.

I waited for him to leave but he didn’t. His gaze eventually lifted from his hands, but not to me. He looked around the room, studying each fixture as if it was the first time he’d seen it. “I haven’t been in here since the night I found Lola’s body.”

I didn’t know that, that he’d been the one to find her body. I realized there was a lot I didn’t know. I didn’t even know how she’d died. So I asked him.

He swallowed. I saw his throat work, watched the contraction of his skin, the movement of the muscles beneath it.

“She killed herself.”

I gasped. I couldn’t help the sound. With the way they’d spoken of her, nothing could have led me to suspect this. Suicide was a last resort, the desperate action of someone who felt as if they had no one else to turn to. From listening to Debisi and the Ooni speak about her, I couldn’t imagine that she felt that way. She was a beloved only daughter, an admired older sister, what led her to do something like that. I didn’t realize I’d voiced my thoughts until I turned to find Debisi staring at me, his mouth working as if he was struggling with speaking. Then he cleared his throat and turned away from me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”

He shook his head, but he still didn’t speak. It took a long time before he finally said, “they’ve been up all night. It’s why I couldn’t sleep.”

“Can you talk to me about it? I mean, if it’ll help.”

“You should probably know.” His voice was low, tight. “I thought your father would have told you.”

I frowned at that. Why would my father have told me? And, for that matter, why would Debisi think that I should know? “My father didn’t tell me.”

“I’ll tell you then.” He said, but no words came after that, just the haggard sound of rough breathing.

I’d just about given up on ever hearing him speak when he finally cleared his throat and delivered the words to me in a deadpan manner.

“I was fourteen the first time that the Eze of Nuri visited Bono. He was sixteen then. Tall, already obscenely muscular, with royal arrogance stamped onto every feature on his face. There was an afternoon feast to celebrate his visit, which I was allowed to attend. But the party later that night, I was barred from, I was too young. Lola was seventeen then. She was so excited because Kola was coming in from Ikeja and the both of them planned to attend the party together. She’d driven everyone crazy trying to find the perfect dress to stun Kola.” I smiled at that, imagining a young love between Lola and Kola, who I remembered was the Alake of Ikeja’s son. But while I smiled, Debisi was completely emotionless. He delivered the words flatly, as if he was reading a dry science book.

“I wasn’t there, but from what Kola told me later, the Eze fell in love with my sister that night. He became infatuated with her. Lola, playing the role of hostess, was always courteous to him. But she was that way with everyone. Smiling, cheerful, kind. He was supposed to visit for a week. He stayed for three months. Then, one day, he asked for my sister’s hand in marriage. After talking with Lola, and learning of her true feelings for the Eze, our father refused. The Eze was enraged. I wasn’t there for most of this, but I was there when our father turned the Eze down. It was during an intimate dinner, just me, my parents, my siblings and the Eze. He threw his plate to the ground and shattered it. Then he stormed towards my father. Lola started begging him to stop but the Eze, for some strange reason, took that as Lola begging our father to reconsider.

Our father was furious that the Eze would dare threaten him. He threw the Eze out of our palace and banished him from ever returning to Bono. Lola had such a good, soft, heart, that she blamed herself for the rift between our nations. She would scheme with me and Kola on ways that she could repair it, and I was young, stupid, I thought, if he really loved her, then if she asked, he would apologize to our father. I was so naïve, and Lola was too. She agreed with me. They snuck out of the palace, Lola and Kola, and went to Nuri to confront the Eze.

They shouldn’t have done it.

The Eze took that as proof of Lola’s love. He came back a few weeks after they returned, but he came disguised in a mask. He kidnapped Lola and took her to a shrine where he forced her to swear to a love match with him. Then he raped her. After that, he brought her back to the palace and blithely announced to our father that they were married, and the wedding had been consummated in the presence of an oracle. He boasted that there was nothing our father could do to undo the union. He was right. Lola killed herself that night. I found her hanging. She was dressed in a Nuri slave dress with a slave brand carved on her body. He used a knife to carve it into her. She must have been so scared of him. She chose death over a life with him.”

So many things snapped into place. Their hatred for the Eze for one. I’d always known that it was personal, from the way they spoke of it, but I hadn’t imagined that it was this personal. I knew that this was where Debisi had gotten the idea for a love match for Ayisha from. He was trying to use the Eze’s own trick against him. If only it hadn’t gone so awry. He was still as detached as he’d been before. I understood then that this was how he coped. This emotionlessness, the same one I’d hated him for before. It was how he dealt with the horrors. I shimmied over to him and sat behind him, wrapping my arms around him.

It took him a while then he leaned into me and I cursed myself for ever doubting him.

“It was my fault Tan, I told her to go to him. I encouraged her. I was so foolish, so quick to believe in love.” I rubbed my hand over his arms to calm him. “He carved a slave brand into her skin.”

“Shhh, he’ll pay for all that he’s done.” I promised.

He shook within my arms. “We already tried to make him pay. Father sent troops to Nuri. The Eze slaughtered them. Then he marched on Ikeja.”

How did I not know this? I knew of every squabble between the Nuri and the Bono mostly because they’d tried to involve us in it. Still, it was shocking that I’d never known of this, arguably the most important one.

“What happened?”

“You really don’t know?” His voice held an unfeigned note of wonder.

“Would I ask if I did?”

“No. Your father interceded, Tan. He met with the Eze, then with my father, and a bargain was struck. It was meant to be a peace deal, a marriage bond to unite our nations. But it wasn’t possible, not after what we’d endured.”

I frowned. My father was smarter than that. Why would he think that a simple marriage could solve the issue? In fact, why would the Ooni agree? Neka was the Eze’s cousin, I didn’t need to be told that she was the one given in marriage. I had thought Taiso and Neka an unlikely pair, now I understood why. Still, it made no sense that my father would sue for peace in such a situation. It was he who’d taught me that monstrous beasts should be put down. By suing for peace by marriage, he authenticated the Eze’s marriage to Lola. But my father would never do a thing like that, he would never allow for rape to stand, it was just not in his nature. I tried to explain all of this to Debisi.

“You can never really know a person’s true nature,” he said. It was oddly prophetic, seeing as I’d been thinking the exact same thing about him only a few minutes ago.

“But I knew my father.”

“Maybe he was ashamed of what he’d done. Maybe that’s why he never told you.” There was something harsh in Debisi’s voice, a rumbling undercurrent that I couldn’t place or explain no matter how hard I tried.

Could he be right about my father’s feelings on this issue? I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. There had to be more to this, for my father to have made the decision he did, there had to be more. But Debisi was not in a place to hear me defend my father and so I didn’t. I let the thoughts percolate through my mind, instead.

Those of us in sheer white, dressed for the Eyo festival, knew deep down that it had been cancelled. I saw my emotions mirrored in their faces. The despair of wanting to cling to that feeling, the promise of possession by an Eyo mami wata, the desire to be in the presence of a masquerade, of such a great deity. Then there was a sense of hopelessness, an emptiness felt in the deepest crevices of my being, as if that which had filled me was now gone. Then the sorrow, the aching, profound, grief of loss.

“This has never happened before.”

“The Eyo masquerade has withdrawn.”

“Spirits displeased.”

The whispers broke into the silence, robbing us of our precious moment of shared grief. The others turned away. They moved quickly, and then broke into runs once the chill of the rain seeped in through the sheer materials they wore. I just stood there, alone amongst a dwindling crowd, shivering from the cold, but unable to move. Unable to make sense of this. I stared up at the dark sky, momentarily lit with the white lines of lightening. Thunder followed quickly after, but it bore no answers for me.

“Revered.”

I heard Mede’s voice and turned slowly to look at her. She was with Eghe. He gaped at me, but it was nothing new, he always looked like that when he saw me naked. No matter how many times we’d been together. Mede wrapped me in a thick velvet cloak, similar to that which they wore. I must have been standing there for a while, because my feet felt numb. I had to bend my toes a few times before the feeling of numbness went away.

“Eghe,” she snapped at her partner. He shook his head and came towards us, shielding us all with the large umbrella he carried.

Mede rubbed my arms beneath the cloak, as if she was trying to force warmth back in. I wondered vaguely if my skin felt as cold as I did. My mind felt muddled. I removed the green hat and the veil, which Mede immediately snatched from my hands. Then I stepped out from underneath the umbrella, ignoring their cries for me to return. I let the cool rain splatter across my face and clear my mind of the muddling remnants of the Orisa nut. One was usually not enough to make me feel this disoriented.

When I felt more settled, I walked back underneath the shelter of the umbrella.

I turned to Mede.

There were lines on her forehead, and something else in her eyes. It took me a while to name the sorrow I saw reflected in the shimmer of her orbs.

“What is it?”

She glanced at me and her gaze dropped. “I’m sorry revered,” her voice was low, shaky even.

“Someone’s dead. Who is it? Mother?” But no, Mede wouldn’t be this affected by my mother’s death. No. “Tiwo?” My lips quivered and a sudden well of tears flooded my eyes, blurring my vision.

“No, no, revered, Tiwo is fine.”

The ripping pain in my chest eased. I heaved in a deep breath. “Who is it?”

“I’m sorry.” She repeated. I wanted to slap her, to shake her until she just yelled it out. I probably would have too, if Eghe’s flat tone didn’t stop me.

“The Iyo contingent.”

That ripping pain returned and tore straight through my heart.

“They sent a messenger with the corpses.”

“Where?”

“The welcoming tent, revered.”

I took off before Eghe was even done speaking. My thoughts were filled with images of Ayisha, my sweet Ayisha. The sight of her in the bathroom, standing with her hands on the pillars. The collar that I’d gifted her, settled on her pretty neck. “I like him, I like him more than most men, but I have only ever loved once.” The love in her eyes when she said it, looking up to me, trusting me. I knew that I was crying and I didn’t care, my sweet Ayisha, my beautiful girl. A guttural cry came out of me, torn out from my lips, and spilling into the ether. I would kill them all. Whoever it was that took her from me, I would kill them. I ran, my bare feet slapping angrily against the white stone grounds. I heard footsteps behind me, my tumblers, no doubt, but I couldn’t find it in me to stop or slow down.

I didn’t slow until the tent was in view. The white tarp roof stood out to me like a siren calling me to my doom. Still knowing what was there, I didn’t stop, I couldn’t. I had to see it for myself.

Charred corpses.

I saw Debisi bent over one of the bodies. He had a frown on his face, the look he had whenever he was trying to solve a puzzle, and a strong wave of hatred flowed through me when I saw it. In that moment I hated him for trying to decipher the corpses, for studying them, for puzzling over them. He showed no sorrow, no grief, he was completely emotionless. He stood around corpses, one of which was most likely my sweet girl’s and he did not flinch. He studied it with a scholar’s detachment.

“Tan!” Tiwo slammed into me. He wrapped his arms around me and wept into my shoulder. I held him close to me and wept too. My tears dampened his velvet cloak as his did mine. But I pulled away. I had to see her for myself. It would be painful, but I had to see her.

“Where is she? Where is Ayisha?”

Tiwo pulled back. “She isn’t here, Tan, he took her. That monster took her.”

All I heard was ‘she isn’t here’. Which meant she wasn’t dead. She wasn’t among the corpses that littered the floor. The ache in my chest eased. I could breathe without shuddering in pain. The tears dried in my eyes, I had to think. I forced myself to remember all that Tiwo said. Someone had her. Someone took her. If someone took her then that someone was about to feel my wrath.

I extricated myself from my brother’s tight embrace. I noticed the guards first. They surrounded the tent. Taiso was there, looking grim. The Ooni was also present, he was the only one sitting. He looked at the corpses and I saw the sorrow etched into the tired old lines on his face, and I loved him deeply for it. His right fist was clenched on the knob of his walking stick.

“Uncle,” I moved over to him, “what happened?”

His face tilted upwards and his scowl lifted. “I’m so sorry, my dear.”

I nodded, trying not to be impatient, but I needed to know. I needed to plan. “Please tell me what happened.”

“Of course. Taiso, send the messenger over.”

I noticed the man standing beside Taiso. He was part of the Iyo contingent a guard that had been with Ayisha. He’d had both hands then, but now he only had one. His left hand had been cut off his limb. He carried over a golden box in his right arm. Then he approached us and held the golden box up. He bowed.

“What happened?” I couldn’t help the snap in my voice. I needed to know.

He lifted his head. “The Nuri soldiers the Eze sent to escort us caught the princess sneaking out with the Sehzade. They tortured the Sehzade until he confessed to their plans to wed before the princess could marry the Eze.” I clenched my jaw. “Then they held us prisoner and sent word to the Eze. The Eze’s justice was swift.” He lifted his right hand, a single twitch that drew attention to the gilded box he held. It was an unspoken signal to open. I reached for the golden box and lifted the lid. The Sehzade’s dead eyes stared up at me from a severed head. I gritted my teeth and closed the box.

“As you’ve seen, revered, the Eze ordered the Sehzade beheaded and had every other member of our party burnt to death. His soldiers took the princess back with them to the palace and sent me with this head to express the Eze’s displeasure to the emperor. They said that no one could be left unpunished, and so they cut off my hand.”

I couldn’t believe it. “Is he insane?” I yelled.

“Nuri law,” Taiso’s voice dripped with disgust. “Women are possessions to them, and it is considered theft if a man tries to marry a woman already betrothed to someone else. The punishment for stealing from the Eze is death.”

“But it was a love match!” Tiwo yelled.

“The Eze of Nuri is a deranged animal!” The Ooni screamed. “Did you really think that he would honor a love match?”

I stepped back.

“They hadn’t been married yet when they were caught.” Taiso said. “Maybe it would have been different if they’d succeeded in getting married. A sworn love match cannot be broken, but there is no law preventing anyone from stopping a couple before they swear the match.” He sagged, as if suddenly unable to bear the full force of his weight. “I cannot help but feel responsible. When Debisi told me what you all planned, I should have known that something like this could happen, I should have foreseen it.” His words were delivered with the arrogance of one who truly expected to be capable of foreseeing all eventualities. Still, I couldn’t help but see him differently. There were not many who would willingly shoulder the blame for things out of their control. It was the mark of a good leader.

But it wasn’t his blame to take. It was mine. “I should have known better.” I should have done more. I did not think that there was any leader who was capable of this sort of carnage. To slaughter so many because a woman had tried to jilt you? What kind of monster would do something like this? “The Eze underestimates the emperor’s love for his daughter. The emperor will burn Nuri to the ground.”

Taiso breathed out deeply. “Will he really? The Eze might be an animal, but no one has ever accused him of not being smart. The emperor will not risk marching on Nuri while his daughter could be harmed. By the time the emperor marches his army to Nuri, Ayisha and the Eze will be married. If the Eze manages to get her pregnant, I think the emperor will be amenable to forgiving the Eze. It wasn’t his son the Eze killed.”

I was floored by the cold logic of it. It was hard for me to imagine anyone being as ruthlessly logical as the Eze. But the proof was right in front of me. Even the one man he’d been willing to spare, he’d only let him go after cutting off his hand, because he had to punish him. What kind of person would do something like this? Someone desperate, maybe, someone preparing for war, who needed an alliance with the Iyo empire no matter the cause. But he could have taken Ayisha and still let the rest of the contingent live. He didn’t have to kill them. The Eze of Nuri was my neighbor, but I’d never before bothered to wonder about the kind of man he was.

“I’m going to get Ayisha back.” I stated without inflection. “Then I’m going to lance a spear through the Eze’s heart.” I believed very strongly in putting down dangerous beasts.

“I will help you.” Taiso’s offer took me completely by surprise.
I knew a lot about Taiso. I knew about the squabble between him and his brother, about the nobles he’d killed to secure his rule. The nobles that Debisi said he killed. I didn’t like it, that nagging voice in the back of my head reminding me that everything I knew of Taiso came from Debisi. I had one person’s story, and that was never enough to learn the full picture. I knew this. I turned to find Debisi, to look into the eyes of the man I’d come to know and respect. He’d moved closer to us, but he was still starring at the corpses with the thinking expression on his face. His father and his brother had shown genuine emotions, but not Debisi, he was still staring at the bodies as if they were a puzzle.

I turned back to Taiso. “How?”

“We can go to Ikeja, Ikeja is the closest border village to the Eze’s palace. Once we get there, we’ll sneak into Nuri and get Ayisha out. Then we let the Eze face the wrath of the Iyo empire without their princess to hide behind.”

“We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“As you wish, revered.” Taiso replied.

My gaze rested on the corpses. They were people, members of the Iyo contingent that I had shared a roof with. They had families, loved ones, but I couldn’t help but feel relieved at the fact that Ayisha wasn’t amongst them. She was still alive, which meant that she could be saved. And I was going to save her. I swore it by all the masquerades. I would save my sweet girl.

I had trouble sleeping that night. I tossed around in my bed, my thoughts filled with images of charred corpses that had Ayisha’s sweet face and the collar I’d given her wrapped around her neck. I imagined the Eze of Nuri instead. I knew his age, he was in his late twenties, a sadistic monster. What did a monster look like? It didn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter with my spear lancing his neck.

14

“What kind of ignorant nation hales you as untouched?”

I smirked at the grumpiness in Tiwo’s voice. My gaze darted over his face, the narrowed eyes, the pouting frown, before returning to the mirror. I admired the bulky shift I had on. The gown was baggy, like a sack hewn over my body. It was long-sleeved having arms that extended far beyond my fingers and bottom fringes that swept the ground with at least two inches of material. The cloth the gown was made of was fine silk, a grade so fine that it was as slippery as water between my fingers. My veil was made of a slightly rougher material. It covered my entire face and was sewn with edges like a diamond so that the short ends reached midway down my upper arms, and the long ends fell all the way down my back and front, stopping at my knees.

It was a largesse of cloth so conservative that even the most devout could find no issue. This much cloth shouldn’t show skin. And if it was anywhere other than the Bono nation where the flesh of the pure was honored, it wouldn’t.

But, alas, it was the Bono nation and so the cloth was made of material so sheer that every inch of my body was visible through the layers of cloth, leaving me practically naked.

“After all that I’ve endured in this nation, I’m denied the reward of an Eyo festival,” Tiwo lamented, with an exaggerated woe is me expression coloring his features. This was our last night in Bono. We were leaving the next morning, and Debisi had agreed to come with us. The only person not overly joyed by our departure was Taiso, which was further evidence, if I needed one, that I was making the right decision.

I stretched out my hands and twirled, displaying myself to my audience of two, Tiwo and Mede. The light material billowed around me.

“How do I look?”

Mede kept her gaze on my face. Her chin was tipped upward, her gaze professionally trained away from my body. “I do not like that you will be going alone, revered.”

“Only the untouched can witness the Eyo masquerade.” I couldn’t keep the mocking contempt away from my voice. In this one instance though, I did not mind being considered a Bono virgin. I had heard many things about the Eyo festival but I had never really thought that I’d have the opportunity to attend one. Now, I thought of the people who would be dressed as I was, and I couldn’t help but salivate at the sight that awaited me. Only virgins would be allowed out of their rooms this night.

“The images I summoned to mind when they tested me. I thought of the orgy, Tan, of naked pleasure slaves touching, sucking, fucking, everywhere. It didn’t matter how depraved I got, I still couldn’t pass their test. The test is impossible. No one can get an erection that quickly.” Tiwo recited the complaint he’d been making ever since he’d taken the Eyo masquerade’s test of verdure, and failed it. He’d desperately wanted to witness the Eyo festival.

“Debisi can,” I teased.

He murmured something unintelligible underneath his breath and flicked his gaze upwards, to the ceiling. I couldn’t help smiling at his sullen display. I walked over to him and knelt on the bed, beside his prone form. His eyes turned to me then. I kissed him on his cheek, through the smooth obstruction of my gauze veil. “I’ll tell you everything that happens.”

Still pouting, he managed to say, “do you promise?”

I nodded.

He sighed. “I guess I’ll have to settle for that then.”

A loud sound tore through the room, quick and unexpected in its sudden arrival. The glass cups on my table shuddered and the transparent liquor in the tall bottle swayed. Tiwo lurched up from his lying position, and even I startled a little. My gaze snapped around me, scouring for signs of danger even as my brain provided a delayed explanation for the jarring sound that was repeated, seemingly playing on a loop. Only Mede remained composed. My gaze rested on her face and from the direction of her gaze I could tell that she’d been staring at my body, my butt to be specific. I blinked and her gaze was back ahead of her, her profile as straight and unflustered as it had been before. It made me question the look I’d thought I’d seen.

“It’s time for me to go,” I climbed down from the bed. The sharp bang filled the room, again, for the tenth time. It would strike ten more times, one stroke of the gong for each of the mami watas set to accompany the Eyo masquerade on its tour of the palace.

This night I was one of those Eyo mami watas, or at least a body for the mami wata to inhabit. We’d been chosen by the oracle, whispered into the oracle’s ears by the spirit of the Eyo masquerade.

I swerved around Mede, eyeing her unflinching statue-like pose curiously, as I retrieved my hat, the last part of the costume. The hat was made entirely of green vegetation, leaves, stems, roots and a band of green berries. The brim was entirely flat, and the crown a conical frustrum with a rounded top. I put it on and looked at my reflection in the mirror for the final time. Then I blew a kiss at Tiwo, which he slowly accepted, before walking out of the room.

By the time I stepped foot on the empty corridors, the final strike of the gong was done. I made my way towards the staircase as notes of cultural Bono songs drifted through the hallways, filling the palace interior like a puff of smoke. Beats from a full contingent of drum sets punctuated the air with their forceful rhythm. I could clearly hear notes from a talking drum, and lighter sharp notes from an agogo much quieter than the gong that had been struck before. But there were also bass drum notes, and drumbeats from tarp skins struck with wooden sticks. The shekere joined in the cacophony lending the harsher sounds with the calming swish and clap of beads against gourd.

I drifted downward, puzzled at the volume of the sounds. I was indoors travelling throughout the palace, and no matter where I went, I could distinctly hear the music and the notes of the singers, just as clearly as I’d heard the bang of the gong.

I stopped outside the front door of the palace.

It was raining.

The Eyo masquerade only came out twice a year, both times during the rainy season. There was no prescribed date, no way to know when the masquerade would take on its human form and wander about the land that it watched over. The oracles only got warning a day in advance and in that day they made all preparations for the night of the masquerade’s visit.

A virgin attendant stood behind a white plastic table. She was an albino, dressed in the formal iro of the Bono, which set her apart from those dressed as I, mami watas who would participate in the festival. All virgins were invited to watch, to cheer on the masquerade and add their voices to the unseen choir.

I walked over to her. She caught the edge of my veil and bowed to kiss it, whispering prayers as she moved. When she rose, her eyes remained fixed downwards. I had been briefed on the logistics of the festival, and so I knew to reach into the glass bowl and pick up a piece of kola nut. The nuts were all peeled, exposing white skins. They were bitter kola nuts, I could tell from the length and slender girth. These ones were called Orisa nuts, opium hallucinogenics that prepared mortals for the possession of mami watas.

I threw the nut into my mouth, and chewed, swallowing down the bitter moisture that coated my tongue and gums.

Then I stepped out, away from the shade provided by the palace roof, underneath the heavy stream of falling rain. I had never felt rain like this before, it was warm without the pungent scent that usually followed rainwater. It drifted across my skin like a lover’s caress and I stretched my arms out, opening them wide to embrace the rain. I felt the presence of the masquerade in the rain, in the air that accompanied the rain, teasing the folds of my costume into dancing for it. The music too, music played by an unseen choir, music that echoed through the palace just as loud in there as it was out here, in that music too I felt the touch of the masquerade.

We had nothing like this in Isan. Only the Bono and the Nuri believed in masquerades who took on the form of humans to visit the people. In Isan we believed that the Egbabonelimwin masquerade lived in the tumblers, in those with the calling of motion. Through their skills, their grace and art in fighting, parts of our Isan masquerade lived amongst us and protected us. We had nothing like this Eyo festival.

In my drug-altered state, I couldn’t help but wonder if we were missing out.

I’d taken Orisa nuts before. According to the oracle, twenty were required before a person’s body was fully purified enough for a mami wata to enter. My maximum was five, after five I lost all conscious awareness of my surroundings.

The unseen choir played a song that was shared amongst Nulin nations. It was a story of the promise of reunification. One that the five masquerades had held in agreement when the Nulin nations broke apart several millennia ago. Every child in the Nulin nation knew the tale. I did not like to sing much in public, but I could already feel the effect of the Orisa nuts. They loosened my tongue and I found myself singing along with the virgins who stood in the edges watching. The wind and the rain combined together, beating their own rhythm against my skin, through the sheer material, that even though wet, did not cling at all to my body. The elements urged me to dance. I heard whispers in the winds, urges from the masquerade itself, and I danced. I jumped up when the bang of the bass drum demanded it, and spun when the swish of the shekere beads cajoled. The talking drum spoke its own language to me, urging me in its fast and slow, warring rhythms, to bend a little, bend to a squat, which I did, swivel in the squat, which I did, jump on one foot, which I did, dance, be merry, the agogo chimed and I smiled. I obeyed.

The song spoke of the heralds of reunification. Of war. Corpses scattered over pristine grounds. A peacemaker warmonger. A loveless love match with love true. A ferocious fragile flower. Lost items whose locations were known. Chaos and confusion amidst the longest calm. They were all oxymorons, things that I’d scoffed at before, but this night, as I sang the heralds of reunification, I felt a chill run down my spine, and I shivered. I could hear it in my head, the sounds of war, the neighing of horses rearing backwards away from the danger of an outstretched spear. The sight and smell and taste of spilled blood. The cries of pain. Those cries were mine. I felt powerless hatred and all-consuming fear, alien things I had never truly known. Powerlessness was an unfamiliar experience and fear was never something I could not face. Yet the feelings clung to me and it wasn’t till I swallowed, that I noted the rawness in my throat. My ears rang, but it was from my own screaming, not some vision of the future.

I closed my mouth and the shrill sound ended. My vision cleared and my thoughts were free of the heralds. The unseen choir was singing something new.

Others, costumed as I was, had joined me. Six Bono, all were natural albinos with their bodies showing through their clothes just as clearly as mine did. Three of them were males, three females. We danced together in flowing white garments, towards the next table and the bowl of Orisa nuts that sat there. The onlookers had grown. They were all young, all dressed in virgin iros. There were many children, more children than I had seen since stepping into the palace. They all stared at us in awe. The path in the middle of the compound was cleared so that we could dance along it. The onlookers made sure to stand away from the path. As we drifted by, they reached out to grab the edges of our garments and place kisses on it.

We’d just reached the table when the dark sky lightened with veins of electric pulse. We all stopped and froze. Even I, Isan and largely uninformed on the matter of the Eyo festival, knew that the Eyo masquerade only came on calm rainy nights. Its arrival was unaccompanied with celestial wonders. In fact, the presence of such were bad portends, signaling the withdrawal of the Eyo masquerade’s spirit. Collectively, our gazes lifted to the sky and we watched waiting, perhaps hoping that the lightning had been a mistake. Then the air crackled and the roar of thunder struck, blowing through us with the jarring shock of an icy bath.

The music reached a hasty end. No more notes were heard from the unseen choir. The only sound that punctuated the silent night was the thunder. The calm wind turned furious, whipping up dirt and tiny rocks and bashing them against our skin. The previous warm rain was cold and inundated with the natural pungency of rainwater.

Fazemood:
Well, I don't really have any in mind but if we can imagine having probably slight changes to some tools like the spears having to reconstruct and become a sword or a bow or a lamp stand illuminating light from a source other than oil, or maybe genetically empowered motion warriors like mede and the others, or even still like it is in your other books teleportation devices that aren't link with magic rather some sort of materials and the likes, it will give some impression that Africa isn't as archaic as many imagine.

For instance the reason most like the movie 'Black panther' isn't because of the action but rather the feeling that wakanda is more advanced than any other nation on Earth.

I am not saying we should copy that pattern of technological development, its way too ambigious, rather little things that I believe we had as our own technology in the ancient times before the whites came and probably stole and turned around and claimed they created after some alterations. I believe we had that kind of things in the past like every other races did.

Well, it is good to keep it this way but mysteries brings curiosity and curiousity brings interest and interest devotion. So just think and see if this is feasible.

Thanks

I have a better understanding of what you're saying now. I think Nnedi Okarafor did something similar with technology in African themed literature in Who Fears Death...I think that could have been cool here. I don't know if I'll be able to incorporate that into this book, but I'll think and see if there's a way to put it in. Thanks for the inspiration

Elvictor:
is it some kind of ancient physics explanation?

Yup, it's the physics of the Nulin Nation...lol

Fazemood:
I see, although having a story where Africa has its own technological development is worth reading too. If you can twist it a bit to this flavor then it a 'good to go'.

Thanks for the clarification

What do you mean by Africa having its own technological development? I'd like to hear more about this, sounds interesting...do you have an examples?

PenHub:
Nice update @ obehid. Story is all but class..........

Thanks. I don't know if your 'all but class' is a compliment though, but as long as you're enjoying the story it's all good

Elvictor:
I was even about to ask him why he is bringing contemporary ideas into the story, technology is as old as man.

It's actually her not him, lol, and your 'if you wrote so' made me laugh so hard. Nice

Fazemood:
Obehid this update seems quit short but very satisfying. I would like to ask, what's is the setting of this tale? Is it in a precolonial or post colonial era? Because I read and I am curious, the attire, the means of transportation, the weapon used and the land markings seems ancient yet there are technology in it as well.

What era can we put this story?

I feel sad for tan's mom, she seems quite lonely despite her constant smiling.

Please clear me of my curiousity.

Thank you Revered

You are so right about this Fazemood, I've spent too much time writing books with powers where magic makes the impossible possible so you can fuse eras....I really need to be more careful with this one. The answer to your question though is it's late pre-colonial timed, but it's fantasy so I might take some liberties. To clarify though, the sewing machine I was thinking about is treadle machines. The 'light bulb' is like a kerosene lantern but the metal mesh frame is white and the 'bulb' is glass that's been tinted so that the typical yellow flame light is absorbed and only white shines through. So basically, no electricity.

monalicious:
Awww, I hope she won. I was busy having a baby around this date last year.

Wow! A baby! Congratulations!!!!

Bluehaven:
TBH ObehiD, I've just finished this series.
Wow...took US 19 months.
Geez!
Lemme rush to meet up with the next book.

N.B.:
Beep me ObehiD. I'm a graphic designer (or is it already late?) I could do it for free you know.

Yeah, lol, it took 19 months...was a really long one. I already got a graphic designer for the project that I was looking for, but now that I know I'll keep you in mind for the future. Thank you.

Elvictor:
is this all for today?

Lol, yeah it was a short update, but this Friday's will be longer

13

The next few days in the Bono court fell into a pleasing routine. I spent the mornings training with my tumblers, amidst an ever-growing number of onlookers. Debisi was always there. We never sparred again, but we went to the lake together after I was through. The skinny dipping became our morning ritual. I’d noticed that Taiso came, as well, every morning, to watch my sparring. After hearing Debisi’s story, I couldn’t help but see him in a different light. Every time he looked at Debisi I wondered if he was planning his brother’s death.

The afternoons were spent with the nobles from my court, administrating over whatever minor disputes my ministers thought important enough to send via pigeon. None of it was pressing. The only letter of note was from Ayisha, a missive letting us know that she’d gotten safely to Nuri. The Eze had surprised them at the border with a massive escort of troops, forcing her and the Sehzade to hold off on their elopement till they travelled close enough to a shrine that they could sneak away from the escort the Eze sent. I wasn’t too worried that she’d fail, Ayisha could be quite devious when she wanted to be. But in case there was a problem, I sent her a reply to let us know if she was in jeopardy of drawing too close to the Nuri palace before she was able to achieve her motives. If that happened, I’d have to sneak into that damned nation, but I wouldn’t let myself worry about that till there was a need to.

The evenings were spent in a mix of dizzying court parties and quiet nights, like this one, which I spent with my brother. On nights like this, we went on strolls around the palace grounds and he tried his best to pester me into leaving.

It didn’t matter what I did during the day, every time I came upon Bono nobles, I’d find myself staring at them, wondering what role they’d played in Debisi’s life. Were they friends of the dead nobles who’d tried to convince Debisi to kill his own brother for a throne? Did they know what those nobles had done? Did they secretly wish for Debisi to be Alaafin, did they plot to make it happen? On and on, the intrigues of the Bono court filled my thoughts, until it was time for the Ooni’s massage. Since the first night I’d done it, he’d asked me to keep at it. I didn’t mind, I could see how much better he looked. His coughing fits seemed to be reducing, and he’d told me himself that he felt more alive than he had in a long time.

A loud string of barks intruded on our silent night.

Tiwo perked up immediately. He loved animals. Our father had spoilt him with pets. Dogs, cats, goats, turtles, even a snake once. I was indifferent. I did not mind them at all, but I did not have the kind of affection for them that Tiwo did. As soon as he heard the dog barking, his face lit up. He sprang to his feet, jumping off the mat we shared and swiveled in the direction of the sound. The novel he’d been reading slipped from his fingers.

We were in one of many of the clearings in the palace’s forest. It was one that was surrounded by trees with colored fruits, which made it an instant favorite for the both of us. The preponderance of white was getting very old, very quickly.

The barking got louder.

Tiwo bent to a squat with his arms spread out and moments later, a white dog bolted onto our mat and into Tiwo’s arms. Tiwo wrapped his hands around the dog and petted it. He stroked its fur and the dog lapped his face with an eager tongue. Tiwo enjoyed the attention, I would not.

“Where did you come from?” Tiwo asked the dog. He got several more licks for a response, which predictably set Tiwo off on a round of laughter. I shook my head and leaned up, resting my palms on the mat. My gaze turned to the left, where the overeager dog had come tearing in from, and I watched the shadows growing bigger. The Bono used white light torches at night. Their forest was kept blanketed by the large fronds of the trees, which provided a pleasant shade during the day, but at night it blocked off the natural lighting of the moon.

Two servants emerged first, holding out a white metal mesh cage with a bulb of white light hanging in the middle. They stood off to the side, adding their light to ours. Two palace guards walked in after them. I sat up straight, taking my palms off the ground. Mother came in behind them, followed by two more palace guards.

I smiled and jumped to my feet. “Mother,” I said, “this is a surprise.” We’d been missing each other so often over the last few days that I’d become entirely certain she was avoiding me.

She walked over to me with her usual air of quiet dignity. She’d always been that way, always composed, always smiling. I’d never heard her raise her voice to anyone. Mother was shorter than I was, so she had to reach up to cup my face in her hands. I bent and she kissed me on the cheek.

“Do you like the gift I brought you, Tanose, she’s a white shepherd, a pure Bono breed?”

I sighed. “You know I don’t like dogs.”

“She’d actually have to know you to know that,” Tiwo remarked.

Mother was unfazed by Tiwo’s words and his tone. She walked to him and bent to place a kiss on his head. He pulled away from her touch and glared at her. Then he turned his head away and hugged the dog closer. Mother rose and turned back to face me, still smiling, completely unaffected by Tiwo’s reaction to her. She never was. Our mother.

“Can we talk, Tan?”

I wasn’t sure what to make of this. I nodded warily, as Tiwo turned back around to peer at her. Then he gave me a direct warning look and turned his attention back to the dog. Mother was already sitting on the wooden bench. I walked over to her and my gaze caught on Mede’s distrustful one. She didn’t say anything, she just kept watching. I shook my head at the both of them. Really, what had mother ever done to earn their ire?

I sat down on the bench next to her. She smiled at me and then gestured at one of the servants. The girl dropped her lantern and rushed over, carrying a basket I hadn’t seen when they’d walked in earlier. It was my mother’s sewing basket. I froze and then forced myself to tamp down my irritation. The girl sat on the ground beside my mother, while mother pulled out a white silk material. It looked like she was making an Isan tunic, one similar to what we both wore. She was very talented in her sewing.

“Will you join me?” she offered me one end of the cloth. It looked like she’d been sewing an embroidery onto the sleeve she held out to me.

“You know I don’t like sewing.”

“But it’s so pleasant, and it’s so relaxing, isn’t it Yem?” The servant, who was threading a needle, nodded in agreement. “Won’t you do it for me?” Mother said all of this smiling as she usually did. Her face was pleasant, her eyes gently entreating. All the things she’d gotten me to do as a child with that same look. I shook my head. She nodded, as if she’d been expecting my refusal, and, still smiling, pulled the material back. She accepted a threaded needle from the servant and started sewing a running stitch on the hem. She’d always sewn in straight, immaculate, lines. I’d looked once, trying to compare her stitches with one done by a machine, and I’d found no difference.

She hummed an Isan tune, it was one that had been my favorite when I was younger. It had always relaxed me. Mother was a healer, it was her calling, and it was as natural to her as motion was to me. Everything that came from her relaxed. I remembered how soothing just listening to her sing had been. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “Yes, mother, very beautiful.” I watched the graceful sweep of her hands and remembered my conversation with the Ooni. “I hope your hands don’t hurt.”

Her face remained pleasant but her eyebrows pulled together by a tiny fraction, just enough to show her worry. “Why would they?”

“The Ooni mentioned your arthritis.”

“Oh, that,” she waved it away, “just a minor discomfort.” She took her focus back to the sewing and continued humming. I was starting to remember how much her stillness unnerved me. When I was younger she’d come to me, just like this, and she’d hum while doing some embroidery, or knitting, or sewing, and I’d find myself spilling confessions out to her that I hadn’t even known were eating at me.

I looked at Tiwo. He was seated with the dog in his lap, stroking her fur, while he frowned at mother. He saw me looking and mouthed, ‘what does she want now?’. I shrugged. He rolled his eyes and turned back to frowning at her.

“So, what do you think of Debisi?” She spoke finally.

“I like him.”

She looked up at me and smiled. “Good, good, he’s a good boy.” Then her face turned serious. She rarely got this serious. I found myself sitting up. “He’s a good match for you Tan, why don’t you take him to Isan, continue your courtship back there.” There was a desperation in her voice that surprised me. Then she smiled, patted me on the knee, and turned back to her sewing. She wasn’t humming.

I looked at Tiwo. He mouthed, ‘I agree.’ Tiwo liked Debisi, but what he agreed with was the getting back to Isan part. I knew why Tiwo wanted to go back. He had pleasure slaves, friends, a life, his pets, all waiting for him in Isan. I didn’t understand why mother wanted me gone.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were pregnant?”

She turned to me and said, “I knew you wouldn’t approve.”

“When have I ever not approved of anything you’ve done?”

She smiled at me. “The fact that you do not voice your disapproval doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. You are my daughter, Tan, I know when I’ve disappointed you.”

“Why did you leave him, mother?”

She sighed but her smile didn’t fade, it got bigger. “I thought we talked about this already.”

“No, we didn’t, and you know we didn’t. I’ve accepted that you’re happy here, that the Ooni makes you happy, but I thought your husband made you happy, I thought that was why you married him so soon after father died.”

She stopped her sewing and palmed my cheek. Her touch was soft, her smooth skin warm against my face. “He made me happy for a while, when he needed me, then he stopped needing me and I was alone in yet another mansion.”

“Alone in yet another mansion?” Tiwo screeched.

“You were not alone, mother, how could you say that?”

“You always belonged to your father Tan, and Tiwo was yours. The both of you were all Netite needed. There was nothing he could get from me that he didn’t get from his pleasure slaves.” I groaned, that was so not on the list of things I needed to hear. “I loved your father, but I needed to be needed.”

She was a healer to the core, it didn’t surprise me that she felt that way. “I needed you.”

She shook her head. “You’ve never needed anyone Tanose.”

She was wrong about that, but telling her so would only hurt her, so I moved back to my earlier subject. “What happened with your husband?”

She gave me a suffering look, then she laughed and nodded. “When he stopped needing me, my eyes opened, and I saw his village for what it really was, a military garrison, and he was nothing more than a soldier bored with peace. I grew tired of living in a barracks. So, when the Ooni came for a tour of the village, I asked him to bring me back with him and he did.” She turned back to her sewing and continued humming. The conversation was over, I’d gotten as much from her on the subject as I was likely to.

One thing in mother’s words stood out to me. I thought about it for the rest of the time that mother spent with us, and it played at the back of my mind as Tiwo and I escorted Tiwo’s Bono pet, Bonnie, back to the palace. Tiwo bragged about how smart she was, already obeying orders quickly.

He showed her off, I thought about mother’s words.

It still played in my mind as I walked along the corridor that led to the Ooni’s suite, to administer his daily massage, later that night. Mede trailed silently in my wake. I was so distracted that I was taken by surprise when Debisi walked up to me and slipped his hand into mine. He’d started accompanying me to his father’s suite two days ago, after someone started a silly rumor that the Ooni and I were lovers. Really, the things they did and said in this court.

“What’s wrong Tan?” Debisi asked.

I nodded to bowed palace guards who held the door to the Ooni’s suite open. “Something my mother said.”

“What?”

We walked into a dimly lit hallway with white walls bearing off-white paintings.

“She said the Alake of Ikeja’s village was a garrison and that your father toured it. Is Bono preparing for war with the Nuri?”

He seemed genuinely startled by my question. “No.”

I frowned at him, not quite sure if I could believe him and not fully sure I knew why. It would make sense. This sudden desperation, the Ooni’s eagerness for me to be wed to Debisi. I had a feeling the Ooni was behind my mother’s visit, her slight push towards Debisi. If Bono was preparing for war with the Nuri, then it would make sense that the Ooni would want me tied by marriage to his family, bound in a way that would ensure Isan stood with Bono against the Nuri. There’d been no war thus far, in my reign, and I was not eager for one. I would not shy away from war, but I would not court it.

“What’s bothering you Tan?”

I stopped walking and turned to face him. “Why would your father allow an Alake to house a military garrison if he was not preparing for war?”

Debisi shrugged. “I told you, the Alake of Ikeja is very powerful.”

I shook my head. “No, you told me he had something on your brother, something powerful enough to make your brother acquiesce to him. But we’re not talking about your brother, we’re talking about your father. Why would your father allow it? They are enemies. Unless it was wartime, he would be insane to let an enemy have that much autonomy in controlling arms and training soldiers.”

“They are not enemies, not anymore. Not since,” I could tell from the way his lips tightened and his expression saddened that he was going to mention his sister. “Lola and Kola.”

“Kola?”

“The Alake’s heir.”

I remembered Debisi mentioning the Alake’s son, the one that the Nuri had stolen and made into a slave. Debisi’s words only further confirmed my thoughts. The only thing that could unite the Ooni and the Alake was a common goal and considering what the Nuri did to the Alake’s son and the Ooni’s loathing when he’d spoken to me of the Nuri, I couldn’t think of anything more unifying than war with the Nuri.

“Please don’t lie to me Bi.” He’d flushed the first time I’d called him that. It was just a simple nickname, but he’d been so happy. Now, I couldn’t help but question it. Was this all an intricate Bono scheme?

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t Tan, I swear, we’re not preparing for war with any nation.”

He looked honest and open, eager even to portray the sincerity of his words. I nodded and gave him a tight smile, but I remembered the rules of diplomacy, the dogmas father taught me, and one of them was that no monarch showed all their cards. There was politics in this, and I’d let myself forget, I’d let myself be as free as I was in my own court. Bono was not my nation.

“I will be returning to Isan,” I announced, a few steps away from the Ooni’s door.

Debisi froze. “What?”

“I’m going home, Bi,” I placed an open palm on his cheek. “Come with me?”

As soon as I made the request, I was surprised by how much his answer mattered to me. I wasn’t in love with him, but I did like him, and I would miss his company. But more than that, I wanted to protect him, I didn’t want him sucked any deeper into the quagmire that was Bono court politics.

His face lit up. He smiled so wide that those beautiful dimples of his emerged. He nodded.

@xaviercasmir thank you so much! I hope you keep enjoying

@cassbeat thank you very much

@GeoSilYe Thank you! Yeah, you're right I haven't outright stated her age. I think I did a comparison to Mede's age in the second chapter, but Tan is 20

@doctorexcel Thank you. Wow, a whole Bono WORD-RIOR, me? Chai, thank you oh

@Elvictor well...I guess we'll see

@Fazemood Thank you very much! And I do really like the Tabisi team

@Folex34 lol, no I haven't forgotten

This is a short update today, please bear with me

I felt as if someone had reached into my chest and was squeezing my heart. It was so sad. Now, Debisi’s face was blank, closed off. “I really, really, don’t like your brother.” It was an understatement.

Debisi’s eyes snapped to mine. He blinked, then he shook his head. “It’s not his fault, really, he’s just trying to stay alive. In some ways, I made him into what he is. By trying so hard to impress him, I ended up impressing everyone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take archery for example,” he rushed to explain. “Taiso used to thrash me in archery.” I knew how important archery was to them. Archers were to the Bono what tumblers were to my people. Archery was their elite fighting skill. It was what they trained their fine Bono horses to excel at. A good Bono archer could fire an arrow from any sitting position on a horse, without the horse getting agitated. Which of course, was why we had Isan tumblers trained to do the exact same thing, but not just sitting, but standing, squatting, and sometimes balances on two horses. We did not plan on going to war with the Bono, but if it happened, we had to be prepared. Their horses were better than ours though, they trained good, fine, warhorses. “I trained. Day and night.” I could just imagine a little Debisi firing arrows till his hands bled. “Taiso’s taunting when he beat me irritated me. It was the one thing that he was so good at, and I so poor. Other things he was better but not by so much. I was determined to bridge the gap and so I trained hard. And I beat him.” He sighed and his shoulders hunched over.

“Why don’t you sound proud?” He sounded as if he’d lost.

“Things were good till then. Taiso taunted, but he was still my big brother, he still loved me. After Lola died we clung to each other. Taiso got me through it. I was so messed up after, I was so…” he broke off. It took him some time to get himself back under control. “I survived that because of Taiso. He became my protector. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, he teased me, but he fought for me. Then that stupid competition happened. The late Alake of Ibadan hosted an archery tourney. Riders on horseback, firing arrows from crazy distances. I wanted to make Taiso proud, I wanted to show him that I’d learnt.” I heard a plea in his voice when he made the last sentence. Then his tone became flat. The blank expression returned to his face. He took a deep breath and it was just as if he was talking about the weather. It was scary how good he was at doing that, at masking his true emotions. “It came down to the two of us in the final round. Taiso against me. I beat him and the late Alake, an albino with no heirs, declared that their victor ‘pure prince’, deserved a title of honor. I can still remember the cheers when she said that ‘pure prince’. The people, nobles, commoners, albino, not albino, they clapped madly, and hammered their hands into the stands. They stomped their feet. It felt as if the stadium was shaking underneath me. They were so happy. Elated. Like my victory over my brother was theirs. The screams.” He shook his head. “It was a test. I didn’t know it then, but it had been a test, and to the nobles, to the Bono people, I passed, but to Taiso, I failed. I lost my brother and gained the title of omo-Alake of Ibadan.”

He was still closed off. There was nothing on his face to show how he felt, but I knew, I just knew. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t hug me back. He didn’t even blush. I released him.

“After that,” he began. I didn’t want to hear anymore. It was too sad, but he needed to tell me, and I needed to know. “whenever I walked into a room the nobles drifted towards me. I can still remember the empty platitudes. The unending barrage of nobles trying to give me things. The daughters that ended up hanging on my arm. The flirting. I was the one reminding them of the Bono tenet of verdure, and they would always sigh, so disappointed. It was all a game to them. They ripped us apart. I remember the council meetings, I was suddenly invited to after. Taiso made several salient points and they mumbled grudging assent. I said something, anything, and they agreed immediately, lavishing excessive praise on me in the process. It was all wrong. And that was before the nobles started coming to me and dropping hints on how a rightful prince could ‘get rid of a false interloper’. They wanted me to kill my own brother. ‘I didn’t even have to lift a finger, just nod,’ they’d say, ‘blink’. I’d be forced to keep my eyes open till it hurt, all so they wouldn’t think I was giving permission.”

What a cesspool. I was disgusted. I wanted to go back in time and be there to shield him from all of it. “What did you do?”

“I told Taiso.”

That sounded right. “What did he do?”

Debisi’s mouth twisted. “He thanked me.” I frowned, there had to be more to it. That was the first reaction I’d gotten from him in a while. “He thanked me, and then in under a month all the nobles I’d mentioned to him were dead.”

My mouth was dry.

“I hadn’t understood till then what the stakes were. I’d never really thought about what it meant that no non-albino had ever been a ruler, that they’d been killed. Then everything changed and I learnt how ruthless my brother was, but I also understood why. I finally understood that we were being pitted against each other, that by showing me their favor, the nobles were trying to pressure Taiso into abdicating, or my father into naming me heir. That was when Taiso’s mad grab for power started. One after the other, he got dirt on the nobles. Not all of them, just the ones powerful enough to make a difference. Still, even with Taiso’s foot on their necks, they wanted me. Even now, after everything I’ve done, there are some who are still rooting for me, in silence, but it's there all the same. They don’t understand that I don’t want it. I never have. The cost is too high. I will always choose my brother over power.”

“After everything you’ve done? What exactly have you done?”

Debisi frowned. The blankness faded and his gaze focused on me, as if he was only just then realizing that I was with him. “Did I say that?” I nodded. He fidgeted with his glasses, then his frown got deeper, and he pulled his hand down. “Nothing, forget I said anything.”

It was my turn to study him. I took a step back and perused him.

“What are you doing?”

I ignored him and watched as his uneasiness increased. He took his glasses off and wiped them absently against his shirt. His eyes met mine. “I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a riddle you’re trying to solve.”

He put the glasses back on. The motion caught my eye and I found myself staring at those glasses. “I never asked, what’s wrong with your eyes?”

“What?” He appeared puzzled.

“Your eyes.”

“What about my eyes?”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Why would you think there’s something wrong with my eyes?”

I tamped down my triumphant grin. “That’s usually why people wear glasses.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He fidgeted with his glasses. “Hyperopia.”

“Liar.”

He frowned at me. “I told you that I’m not…”

I put a finger on his lips. He appeared to be getting used to my touch because he didn’t immediately go scarlet. “Hush, before you say something you’ll regret. You’re not farsighted. You fought me without your glasses.” Now I let the triumph shine through in my quirked eyebrow and grinning lips.

He parted his lips, shaking his head as if he was about to argue, then he sighed. “You’re right, there’s nothing wrong with my eyes.”

“Then why?”

“I needed to give them a reason to support my brother. When I woke up one day, clumsy, unable to fire the arrows that had won their love and support, tripping on myself in a fight, struggling to mount a horse, I proved that my brother would make the better Ooni. Or at least I tried to, I always try to.”

“Does Taiso know?”

“If he does it’s not from me.” His eyes scanned over my face. “You’re the only one I’ve told. Promise you won’t tell?” He affected a grin to hide his worry, but I’d heard it in his shaky speech.

“Why did you tell me?”

“You were already getting there.”

“You could have lied.”

He shrugged. “I trust you.” His voice dropped till it was barely above a whisper. “It feels good, it’s been so long since I’ve had trust. Most days I feel like I’m dangling precariously on a ledge and the softest wind could push me over.”

He sounded so sad. I tried to put myself in his shoes to think of the hidden life he was forced to live. He’d said, ‘I always try to’, present tense, which meant he was still facing those pressures, there were still people looking on him to take the throne from his brother, to kill his own brother. I didn’t want to think it, but I couldn’t help myself. “Does Taiso want you dead?”

“I’m not a mind reader,” his voice was harsh. His lips tightened and his hands clenched. Then he looked at me and I saw the uncertainty in his shimmering eyes and quivering lips. He cleared his throat.

“There have been attempts on your life,” it wasn’t really a question.

His shoulders slumped. He looked away from me. “Just one,” he whispered, “before I started wearing the glasses. Nothing since then.”

“Taiso?” I asked.

“No,” he shook his head, “Taiso wouldn’t.” He uttered the words with so much force, as if the more vehement his protest the more likely it would be believed. I didn’t know who he was trying to convince, me or himself.

I needed to distract him. I couldn’t take any more of the tragic web, not then. I chose to believe what Debisi did, I chose to believe that his brother wouldn’t hurt him. It was easy to persuade myself that what I wanted to believe was in fact the truth. I had a brother who backed me and if the roles were reversed, I would do the same, I would support him as Oba. What was power that it could tear a family apart? Could power make anyone hurt a brother as sweet as Debisi? No, Debisi was smart, if he said it wasn’t Taiso, then I believed him, and I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I needed a distraction and it was clear that he needed to be distracted.

I forced myself out of the shroud of gloom that accompanied Debisi’s tale. It was easy to shove all the thoughts to the background, and once I did, I sought to do the same for him, to relieve him of his worries, for this moment, for as long as I could.

I reached forward and took the faux glasses off his face and bent to place it gently on the ground. As soon as my fingers brushed against his skin, his gaze snapped to me. His eyes latched onto me, watching my every movement, peering into my face as I put my hand underneath his shirt and ran it over his belly, pulling his shirt up with my hands in the process.

“What are you doing?” he finally asked, a slight tremor in his voice. His blush had returned.

“I’m stripping you. We came here to swim, remember?”

“Oh.”

He lifted his arms and I pulled the shirt over his head and let it fall. Next was his shorts. I undid the button of his khakis slowly pulling his zip down. He stood still, as if he was scared to move, and he kept his gaze away from my face. His color deepened as I bent, pulling his knickers with me. He wore white undershorts. I put my fingers underneath the elastic band. “Would you like me to take these off too?”

He swallowed. “Can I take off your girdle?”

I nodded. He must have caught the motion of my head in his peripheral vision, because he nodded and then muttered something that sounded like a prayer. I pulled his underwear down and then whistled. He blushed. The head of his cock was so close I could lean forward and lick it. But I knew how he felt about his tenet of verdure, so I restrained myself.

“I’ve never been naked with a woman before.” He cleared his throat and forced his eyes to mine. “Are you considering a betrothal Tan, or are you just toying with me?” His hands kept making this funny spastic motion, where they jerked towards his pelvis, as if to cover up his semi-erect cock, but then they went back. Those hands clenched.

“I’m seriously considering a betrothal.”

He relaxed but only a little. Then he stepped closer to me and put his fingers into the top of my girdle. His hands shook but he kept his attention so seriously focused on his task. He pulled the girdle down. His fingers brushed along the sides of my breasts, down my belly, over my hips and then down my legs. He looked at my pubes and gulped. Then his gaze travelled up to my breasts and stayed there.

He was fully erect now. I liked his cock. It was long, not the longest I’d seen but long enough, and not too wide. The girth of his penis was like the rest of his body, lean and muscular.

“You can touch me,” I said.

His gaze didn’t move up from my breasts. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from ejaculating. My first seed is sacred, for our wedding night.” He still didn’t look up. “But I’d like to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me.”

He swallowed. “You’re so beautiful, Tan,” he said this with his gaze still fastened on my breasts. “I think about you and I get hard. It’s never been this difficult to fight off my arousal.”

I leaned into him and whispered, “then kiss me,” against his lips.

He moaned.

Our lips met and our tongues delved hungrily into each other’s mouths.

12

“You didn’t need to intercede, you know,” Debisi pushed himself to his feet and brushed off the sand granules stuck to his body. “My brother wouldn’t really have hurt me, he loves me,” the last he delivered in a dry, slightly mocking, tone.

He had a red bruise on his arm, where Taiso had struck him repeatedly, but aside from that he looked okay. Our gazes locked and he tried to smile, but his gaze kept darting to the ground and he fidgeted with his glasses, his usual tell that he was uncomfortable. My tumblers and I were the only ones left standing there with him in the stadium, so if he was nervous, than it had to be because of me.

“So,” he bent his head and looked downwards, then he kicked some sand around. He cleared his throat, rose his head, looked me in the eye and then looked back to the ground. “Well, then, I’ll just go and join my brother.” He nodded to me and then started walking away.

I jumped in front of him.

He looked up at me and scratched his head. “Umm, did you need something?”

“Sticks!” I called. I heard the sound of loose sand sliding underneath leather sandals. Debisi’s gaze moved off to the side, staring at the tumblers who’d left to do my bidden, then back to me. He frowned.

“What are you doing?”

“I will not even consider marrying a man that cannot defend himself. Starting today, I’m going to teach you how to fight.”

“Oh,” he adjusted the neckline of his shirt. “Really, Tan, that won’t be necessary.”

“You don’t want me to consider marrying you then?”

His gaze snapped to mine and for a moment his wide eyes were frozen in panic, then the emotion faded away. He took his glasses off and cleaned them. “You know that I want to marry you,” he stated evenly, “I just don’t need you to teach me how to fight.” His eyes were lowered as he spoke, concentrated on the lenses he wiped.

“Unfortunately for you, it’s an either-or sort of proposition.”

He sighed. Advancing footsteps signaled the approach of my tumbler. It was one of the fledglings I’d fought with. Eghe took the sticks from her and brought them over to me. “I can teach him revered,” he suggested.

Debisi huffed. I glared at Eghe who immediately lowered his head. “Do you think that I cannot train him myself?”

“Tan…” Debisi began.

“No, revered,” Eghe replied.

“Then explain yourself,” I snapped.

“It’s just that…I thought…forgive me revered, it was not my place to interpose.” Eghe stumbled through his words.

“Then you’d better tell me why you did.” I knew why he did, and he knew that I knew why, which was probably why he continued offering up apologies instead of explanations.

“Enough,” Debisi’s soft order, cut my tumbler off. I turned my attention to him. “I can fight,” he said, “I don’t need to be taught.”

My lips tightened and my fists clenched. I forced myself to breathe out. “I am even less likely to marry a liar.” I stated, trying to deliver the words as calmly as I could.

Debisi’s head lifted up. “I don’t think I have given you any reason to call me that.”

“You hadn’t till this moment.”

His jaw clenched. He wore anger finely. His gaze was speculative, as if he was considering my words, his breathing remained steady, his hands idly resting by his sides, and his coloring stayed even, but that tick in his jaw gave him away. Then holding my gaze, he spread his hands out and plucked the sticks from Eghe. He offered me one with a mocking bow that his wry grin somehow made cute.

I took the stick from his hand.

He took a step back, took off his glasses, placed them in his pocket, and then gestured me forward. “Come on then,” he teased.

I attacked first. I tried to ignore his sudden arrogance, and force myself to remember that I was fighting the idiot boy too ashamed to confess to his ignorance of the martial arts. I kept my first thrust light and easy to deflect, he knocked it away with a surprisingly strong blow.

Okay then.

I twirled my stick and then went for him, disregarding all my earlier preconceptions of his fighting skill. He parried my blows with the skill of one well accustomed to swords, not spears. It made some of his blows awkward, but it did not hide his skill. He hadn’t lied. He could fight. He wasn’t as good as a tumbler, certainly not as good as I was, but he was better than average, which made him much better than Tiwo. I smiled, when I saw that he was starting to get into the swing of it. Sweat pooled on his forehead and he grunted with exertion, but he was smiling.

We continued our sparring, moving around the stadium. I drove him towards the wall to see what, if any, advantage he could take of his surroundings. He wasn’t a tumbler, he got to the wall and started fighting as if he was boxed in. I stepped back, giving him the chance to move away and attack. He aimed to my left, I deflected, he swung in a fine arch over my head, trying to take me by surprise. As if. I twirled my stick and hit his away. He shrugged, as if saying, ‘had to try’, then he went for a straightforward blow, which I knocked away and then counterattacked.

“You’re good,” I said, when at long last, we stopped trading blows.

He was heaving. He gratefully accepted a cup of water from Eghe downed it and then bent over, placing his hands on his knees. He glared at me. “You’re not even tired.” His back rose and fell.

I chuckled. “Is there a lake nearby?” I asked. “Somewhere we can go to wash off this sweat.”

He pushed himself up, “you’re not even sweating,” he pulled his glasses out of his pocket and put them on.

I walked closer to him and whispered, “maybe I just want to see you naked.”

He’d been breathing heavily, then he heard my words, and didn’t breathe for five whole seconds. “God, Tan,” he heaved, “are you trying to kill me? At least let my heart calm down before you give me a heart attack.”

“So, you don’t want to see me naked?”

There were another five seconds where he wasn’t panting. He watched me as I stepped back, then his eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath and forced it out slowly. “There’s a lake in the palace,” he held his hand out to me, “shall we?”

I smiled at him, slipping my hand into his. He led the way and I followed. The sound of footsteps signified four tumblers accompanying us. Mede and Eghe, and two others.

“Why the subterfuge?” I asked, after we made our way around the rounded edge of the stadium’s outer walls.

“Subterfuge?”

“You pretended that you couldn’t fight, with your brother.”

He kept his gaze in front, but I saw his jaw clench. “Sometimes,” he said, “the perception of weakness is the greatest strength.”

I shook my head. “I despise all this falsehood. What’s the point? He’s your brother, why can’t the both of you just work out your drama?”

He turned and smiled at me. “There’s only one way to ‘work out our drama’, but, unfortunately, it’s not something I can control.”

“Are you really going to make me ask you what it is?”

His smile widened, giving me a flash of his beautiful dimple. “Of course, I like listening to your voice.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well?”

He sighed and the smile fell away from his face. He was silent as we walked past two guards standing on duty. They bowed to us. I nodded at them, as I always did with my own palace guards. Debisi ignored them. The white stone path merged into a lush forest with tree barks painted white and green leaves left displayed. There was the occasional flash of color as we dove deeper into the forest, the color of fruits, but everything else was green and white.

“Can you instruct your guards to remain here?” We’d reached the edge of a clearing. There was a scattering of painted white mango trees with green fruits, and palm trees, blissfully sprouting orange palm kernels. A white sand footpath emerged between two trees and wove behind a green bush, which cut off view to whatever the footpath led to.

I nodded and then gave the order. Three of the tumblers immediately complied, Mede stepped forward. I shook my head at her, her lips parted, my lips tightened, she nodded curtly and stepped back.

We walked down the path.

“My skin.” Debisi stated, without preamble, after we’d walked ten minutes in silence, down the path.

“What?”

He turned to face me as we continued walking. “My skin, that’s the thing I’d have to change to work things out with my brother. I’d have to give him my albinism.”

“Ahh,” it was the sort of answer that became immediately obvious after it was given. “Well, he can’t blame you for that.”

“I thought so too, for the longest time, but then Lola died and I learnt that very little in this court is as it seems.” I heard the pain in his voice and I squeezed his hand to offer up comfort. He smiled at me. “She had dark skin, Lola, it was lighter than Taiso’s, but still dark. Light honey-brown, like the Nuri.” He spat the word ‘Nuri’ out, like it had a foul taste. It was the first time that I’d ever heard him react that way to the word. I’d seen Taiso and his father’s hatred for the Nuri, but not Debisi’s. I was intrigued, but I let him continue on in his train of thought. “Lola refused to bleach. Not even when Taiso tried to convince her to do it, she ignored him. She was so beautiful, and she had this bright light around her, this inexplicable way of making everything seem as good and pure as she was, even Taiso, even this court.”

He smiled at me misty-eyed. “You know you’re staying in her room.”

It seemed like such a random statement, but I smiled at him and said, “really?” He nodded. “It’s a beautiful room,” I said.

“Yes, it is.” He didn’t say anything more and I could tell from his silence, and the faraway look that filled his eyes, that he needed some time. I turned my attention to our surroundings, to the shrubs with white stems and green leaves. I recognized the shrubs, I had similar ones in my suite, growing behind my pleasure chamber. I knew from experience how willowy the canes plucked from them could be. I thought of those canes and I remembered Ayisha, and her short foray into being a pain in the ass brat. By now my sweet girl was on her way to Ikeja, to marry the Sehzade. My gaze narrowed on the leaves. I remembered as a child, running through the bushes in the palace and plucking the red flowers. Tiwo and I would make a game out of seeing who could get the most, then we’d sit underneath the shade of our tall mango trees, and suck on the sweet sap of the red flowers. There were no red flowers in these shrubs, just green leaves and painted white stems. I didn’t even want to imagine how many servants it took to cut off those flowers.

We’d reached the end of the footpath.

It opened up to a small clearing with a pond surrounded by a bed of white sand. There were several trees planted on the sand and towels placed on the ground, underneath the shade of the trees. The trees were spread out so that every inch of the sand bed was covered in shade, leaving only the pool exposed. It was quite a sight in the sunny day.

“He wasn’t crazy you know,” Debisi said, after the long stretch of silence. His eyes were clear now, he wasn’t thinking of his sister anymore.

“Who?” I asked.

He turned to face me. We both stood under the shade of the trees. “Taiso.”

“Wasn’t crazy about what?”

“About my skin, about it making a difference. We are Bono, of the pure Eyo masquerade. We have never had a ruler with bleached skin.”

“I didn’t know that.”

He nodded. “Never.”

“How is that possible? There’s never been a prince or princess heir that wasn’t an albino?” It didn’t seem statistically plausible to me. From what I recalled learning, the Bono were about seventy-percent albino, but that still left a significant percentage with dark skin.

“They’ve been born, they’ve just never ascended to the throne. Some were stillborn. Some died in battle. Some died of mysterious illnesses. Some just disappeared. The rest abdicated, claiming that albinism was the mark of a ruler chosen by the masquerade, and without it, they had no true claim to the throne.”

Wow. I didn’t know what to say to that. It should have been obvious. I mean, seeing how obsessive they were about keeping everything pure white, it made sense that it would apply to their skin. But to have never had a non-albino ruler…Wow.

“When I was younger, when Lola was still alive, Taiso would pick on me, and I just saw it as brotherly banter. I thought he wanted me to be better, to be a better fighter, so that I could lead his troops. To be a better thinker, so he could send me as his representative to foreign nations. So, I pushed myself, I wanted to be great, for him. If he beat me in a fight, I trained hard so that he wouldn’t beat me again. If he bested me in a puzzle, I reworked it until I could think circles around his winning ploy. I just wanted to make him proud, when all he wanted was to show me fail.”

@cassbeat lol, yeah Taiso is something

@Elvictor Thank you, I'm very happy you're reading and enjoying!

@Folex34 wow, Taiso should come and hear oh

@monalicious Lol, Tan wanted to oh, she really did, but as an oba who would have to be diplomatic with him in the future...she had to reconsider

@Fazemood WOW as in see the character breakdown! I love seeing them from your POV. And thank you so much for jumping into this story as well and I'm sooo happy you're enjoying it

“Well,” I prompted, then I poked the butt of my shaft at one of them. He just stood there gaping at me. “Attack, now!” I snapped.

Then I started swinging and knew that their training would take over.

I was wrong on that front.

I was used to there being a certain initial reticence from tumblers to strike me. It usually faded after the first time I sparred with them. This was my first time sparring with these fledglings, but I at least expected them to lift their shafts. I swung my shaft at one, saw that she was too stunned to stop my blow and I swerved around her and struck her on her firm butt instead. She squealed and then turned around swinging. Her first thrusts were reckless, a reaction to the blow I’d struck, but then she calmed and started concentrating. She made a few decent swings that I blocked easily. I evaded her stick and circled back into the middle of the group. I bent to avoid another blow, then, using my solid shaft as a support, I jumped up and slammed the soles of my feet into her belly. She was good. My kick sent her bending backwards, but she stopped her descent with her stick and used it to propel her back with enough force to crack my skull, if I was still standing where I’d been.

I wasn’t. I’d found another target. He at least rose his stick to stop my swing, but he put no muscle behind it. I slapped my stick against his, sending it flying out of his hands, then I flipped the stick and stopped my strike an inch away from his balls. He gaped comically at the stick between his legs as if he’d never seen a stick before. I pulled my stick back. “Next time I won’t stop,” I warned. He bent to pick up his stick. I heard a swooshing sound and ducked, before the stick could hit my head. I swiveled in my squat, with my stick spread out, and managed to knock down my assailant and the girl standing beside her.

The last girl came at me before I could taunt her. Good. She twirled her stick over her head, I rammed mine into her stomach. She groaned and doubled over.

“Is this a joke?” I yelled. “I was told that you were the best students that the training master had to send. If this sorry display is what passes for tumbler education, then I might have to find a new training master.” They weren’t looking timid anymore. In fact, if their heaving, tight lips, and narrowed eyes were anything to go by, they were quite angry. I fanned the flames. “And I’ll have the four of you sent back to the Oracle to have your callings reread. Motion? You think you deserve to share my calling? You disgrace the calling with this showing, you insul…”

Two sticks came swinging at me at the same time. I fell to the floor, with my feet tucked underneath me, so that my butt rested on the soles of my feet, when I was lying flat, then I jumped back up, with a two-handed swing. I slapped away one stick, that the owner quickly stopped its recoil, and I broke the other. One of the tumblers threw the fledgling a replacement. I had no time to watch because the other two joined in.

Now it was a true four on one.

With both hands on the edges of my stick, I stopped a powerful downwards blow and pushed the Player down with my feet. While he jumped back, I parried with two, twirling my stick to divert their blows, and ducked the last. I struck hard enough that a recoil stung one girl. She retreated. I pushed off another who’d gotten too close, using my much taller frame to send her crashing to the floor. She somersaulted and came right back for me. I was proud. I took a painful jab in the side, and delivered a blow in the stomach. I just barely ducked out of the way of two sticks coming at my head.

When you riled tumblers up, there was no pulling them back. That was what I loved about training with tumblers. We were trained to disregard faces and identities when we fought. I was the first Oba with the calling of motion in over a thousand years, and so it had been a long time since an Oba had sparred with tumblers. Tumblers were no longer trained to hold back when they fought, not even in a spar. Still, there was a hint of caution when I fought with older tumblers, ones who weren’t sparring against me for the first time. These fledglings didn’t show any caution. They fought as if they fully intended to kill me, and I loved every moment of it.

Now that they’d found their groove, they came on me in full force. I had to duck and swing, shove and kick, fall, somersault, use every skill in my arsenal to fend them off, and even that wasn’t enough. I found a break in their circle and I dashed out of it, felling two of them in the process with a swing to the back of their knees that sent them sprawling. They didn’t stay on the ground long. Tumblers never did, unless they were paralyzed, or dead.

They chased me to the walls, and I ran happily, using my long legs to full advantage. None of them were as tall as I was. I was drenched, panting, my heart pounded, and I was elated. I got to the wall, around the field, and used that as a jumping board. The first person to reach me got a kick in the gut for her efforts. The momentum from my push against the board was enough to push her into the air, but she pulled her knees to her chest in the air and began to roll. She landed on her feet, then came running right back.

I climbed to the top flat surface of the wall. The first person that tried to jump up with me, got smacked in the thighs. She fell back down. I turned around, and sent the girl behind me down, by stomping on her hand before she could climb up.

A smack in the back of my knees told me that I was not alone. I turned around and bent to a squat when I saw the boy’s stick coming right at me. I struck him in his stomach. He absorbed the blow without moving back. He jabbed his shaft forward, I slapped it away with mine, then on my return swing, I grabbed my shaft in two hands and swiped at his moving legs. He fell. It was such a short fall that if it was anyone but a tumbler, falling at that awkward angle, they would have broken their necks. We were trained to rearrange midair, no matter how short the distance. He turned his fall into a somersault that vaulted him right back onto the ledge.

Impressive.

I heard the whoosh of a stick ripping through air and I knew that the fledgling behind me was attacking. I started to bend into a squat when I heard, Debisi’s panicked voice yelling, “Tan!”

He broke my attention. I shouldn’t have let it happen, it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t sounded so damn scared. I turned to locate him, forgetting the swinging stick I’d heard coming for me. The force of the stick knocked me off the ledge. I swiveled midair so that I could stop my fall with my forearms. I tried to push myself back up to my feet but there were already two sticks poking into my back.

I’d lost.

I turned around and lay flat on my back. When I looked up all four of them stood beside me with their sticks hovering in the air above me. I thought about continuing, I was sure I could still push myself off the floor and continue my fighting without getting hit too many times, but I was worried about Debisi and the fear in his voice when he’d called out to me. So I threw my stick to the ground in a clear sign of surrender.

They lowered their sticks. Two hands reached out to pull me up.

When I stood, Debisi was standing in front of me, with his brother and the other young nobles behind him.

“Are you okay?” His hair was in complete disarray, which was shocking since it had looked combed and neat when we’d walked over. His concern was written allover his face. His look of worry turned into one of anger when he glared at the fledglings I’d sparred with.

“What’s wrong? Why did you scream my name?”

He looked confused when he turned back to me. “I was calling out a warning to you,” he said.

I closed my eyes and groaned. It would be a while before I found another set of new fledglings and goaded them into the kind of recklessness that it took to fight me as these ones had. They hadn’t held back. Next time they would be just as good, but not as ruthless. I turned on them and eyed each one of them. None of them met my gazes. Their senses had already started to return. They’d fought me as if I was one of them, but I wasn’t.

“Which one of you paid the prince to distract me so that you could win?” I teased. They looked up then, staring warily at me, then at each other. “Fess up,” I prodded, “because you know if he hadn’t called my name you would all be lying sprawled on your bellies right now.”

It only took one to smile. It was the girl I’d goaded into fighting first. “We did no such thing, revered.”

“Pfft, I don’t believe you.”

They all broke in, then, laughing and promising that they hadn’t.

“We’ll have to have a rematch to prove it, but tomorrow, take a break now.”

They bowed. “Thank you, revered.”

“You fought very well, your training master will be pleased.” I praised. It wasn’t a lie.

They beamed. “Thank you, revered,” then they retreated, jogging backwards so that they didn’t turn their backs on me.

I turned back around. Now Taiso stood beside Debisi and they both wore matching expressions of disdain as they stared at the retreating fledglings. It was usually harder to see the resemblance, but right at that moment it was clear that they were brothers.

“You should not train that way,” Taiso scolded, turning his attention back to me, “you could get hurt, and those imbeciles weren’t smart enough to realize they were sparring with their queen.”

“Do not call my tumblers imbeciles,” I stated coldly. “And if they’d held back, I would have beaten them bloody. When I tell my subjects to fight, they fight.”

There was an odd expression on Debisi’s face, one that seemed to have its roots in some combination of fear, shock, disapproval and amazement. Taiso grinned. His eyes roamed over me in that intense way that always made me feel like he was trying to dissect me with his gaze. I did not like it and I glared at him to let him know.

“Of course, revered,” the Alaafin bowed, “you know best when it comes to your tumblers.”

“Forgive me, revered,” one of the young Bono women with bleached skin came closer to me, “is this how all people dress in Isan?”

I studied her face. She seemed truly curious and so I gave her an honest, sarcasm free, answer, “no, Oloye, this is only what tumblers wear.” She looked like a noble woman but I couldn’t tell if she was of royal lineage, or if she was an Alake, so I called her by the general ‘oloye’ which the Bono used to refer to all title holders.

“Oh,” she appeared shocked. “Are you a tumbler?”

I nodded.

“Revered,” I turned towards Mede’s soft voice and smiled in gratitude at the cup she proffered. I plucked it from her hands and emptied it of its contents. Eghe held a pitcher, he refilled my cup. “Where’s Tiwo?”

Debisi opened his mouth, but the Alaafin spoke before he could. “He accompanied our father and your mother on a walk around the grounds.”

“Tiwo went on a walk with your mother,” Mede muttered, “they must have held a knife to his throat.”

Only Eghe and I heard her. I turned to Mede and whispered to her in a taunting tone, “dimly lit room,” reminding her of our earlier conversation and the promise I’d made her.

Her eyes widened, she bit into her bottom lip and she held my gaze, then she laughed at me and looked away. I turned my back on her, smiling. Debisi eyed the both of us contemplatively.

“From what we all saw, the rumors don’t do your talent justice. I guess it’s a good thing that my brother has your fighting skills to rely on.” The Alaafin teased, “you’ll have to fight the thieves off and protect the both of you.”

The Alaafin’s entourage laughed. I could see now that they belonged to Taiso, they were his posse, not Debisi’s. Debisi’s neck reddened, and he looked away from me, obviously embarrassed. I watched him there, standing in this group, with his brother and these Bono nobles laughing at him, and he looked so lonely.

“Stop it,” I snapped. How could Taiso not see how uncomfortable he made his brother?

The laughing tittered to a stop, but Debisi still wouldn’t look at me. He fidgeted with his glasses instead.

“No, really, it’s the truth. My brother should have been the commander of my armies, but that job will have to be Ola’s.” Taiso pointed at one of the men standing behind him. “Debisi has two left feet and no right hook.” Taiso laughed and I glared at him and his noble entourage, daring them to laugh again. The man he’d pointed to laughed and the woman who’d asked me about my girdle, but the others looked away.

“What armies? I wasn’t aware that an Alaafin had armies.”

The Alaafin stopped laughing. He glared at me and his jaw ticked. Then the glare washed off, leaving a contemptuous look on his face. He turned to Debisi and put a hand on his shoulder, “let’s spar, brother.” Debisi began shaking his head and I could tell he was preparing to refuse, when Taiso squeezed his shoulder and said, in an uncompromising tone, “it would please me.”

Debisi sighed. “Of course, brother.”

Taiso snapped his fingers, pointed at the tables, and palace guards rushed over to fetch the sticks. He took his stick from a guard’s hands and turned to face me. There was something menacing in the look he gave me, a kind of dark intent, then he turned to face his brother and they began sparring.

Sparring was too generous a word. It was basically Taiso beating his brother, while he teased him, and egged the Bono nobles to laugh at him. Debisi could not fight. I’d thought Tiwo was bad, but Debisi was terrible. It had only taken a moderate swing for Taiso to knock the stick out of Debisi’s hand. Debisi rushed to pick it up and Taiso tripped him. Debisi fell to the ground, his glasses came off. Taiso didn’t even stop for him to pick the glasses up. He just went for him. Luckily, Debisi was able to grab his stick and stop the blow. But he couldn’t hold on to the stick. He rushed for his glasses as Taiso placed a cruel hit on his back. Debisi cried out in pain. He’d just gotten his glasses back on when Taiso aimed his stick at Debisi’s face. Debisi rose his arm up and caught the blow in his forearm before it could smash into his face. Taiso taunted. The nobles laughed.

I didn’t even realize I was holding my hand out until Mede placed a stick in it. I gave her as big a smile as I could muster and was heartened when I saw my anger mirrored on her face. She took the cup from me.

I charged into the fray and deflected Taiso’s blow, where it was poised to come down hard on Debisi’s arm for the fourth time.

“Would you like to spar with me now?” I asked him, and I prayed he would say yes.

Of course, he didn’t. He tossed his stick aside and made a comment about sand fighting being a thing for the lower classes. Then he walked off with his noble entourage and the rest of the palace guards trailing behind him.

11

“Good morning mother,” I kissed her on her right cheek. She smiled and tapped my cheek daintily. Her left hand was wrapped lightly around the Ooni’s upper arm. “Good morning…uncle.” I couldn’t help the wry smile that twisted my face at the Ooni’s startle. He recovered quickly, and then his face lit up and I could almost swear I saw tears in his eyes.

“Good morning, my dear,” he bellowed.

“Good morning mother, your highness,” Tiwo’s greeting was stiff. He was annoyed with me for prolonging our stay in Bono.

Mother cupped his face in her hand and then pulled him close for a peck on the cheek, which my brother predictably recoiled from. Mother pretended like she didn’t notice, but the Ooni didn’t. He glowered at my brother. I couldn’t tell if Tiwo noticed. He looked straight ahead, to the palace stadium. We were close enough that we could hear the clash of wood against wood, punctuated by groans of exertion.

They walked with a little entourage. The Alaafin stood beside his father, and beside him were three young Bono men I didn’t know, all of whom had bleached skin. Four young women walked beside and behind them, and at the furthest edge of the line was Debisi. I walked in front of the line, ensuing the back rows and the dozen or so older people behind the Ooni.

“Good morning, revered,” Taiso stepped forward, blocking my path. “I hope you had a pleasant night.”

“Yes, thank you,” I nodded, then walked around him, my tumblers following.

I strolled over to Debisi. By the time I reached him there was already a deep red flush in his neck. “Good morning, revered,” he bowed.

“Revered?” I scolded, loud enough for everyone to hear, “why so formal this morning?” I kissed him on the cheek, just a breath above the corner of his lips. “Good morning,” I whispered into his ear.

He cleared his throat, then he took off his glasses and wiped it on his white shirt. He was dressed differently this morning, they all were. He was wearing khaki knickers instead of his formal iro, and his shirt was a casual white cotton. The Ooni and the other married men wore long trousers. The women wore skirts.

“Ehn, why so formal, son?” The Ooni boomed. Then he laughed, and Debisi’s blush deepened. He put the glasses back on his face, but he couldn’t resist the urge to fidget. Apparently, the Ooni had decided that proximity to us would be better, because he’d abandoned the other edge of the group, for the edge that I now walked on. He stood beside me, with my mother by his side, and Tiwo, grudgingly standing beside her. Tiwo caught my gaze and glared at me. I rolled my eyes at him and looked away. In my attempt to fling my gaze far away from Tiwo, it landed on Taiso, who, by his humorless expression, was not pleased.

“I shouldn’t have been,” Debisi’s gaze flicked to mine, and a smile graced his face as he said, “Tan.” To which the Ooni laughed and clapped his approval, urging the nobles who trotted behind him to do the same.

“That’s my boy!” He clamped a hand on Debisi’s shoulder.

Taiso’s jaw clenched, the nobles spread further from the Ooni so that they were standing behind Debisi. Debisi cleared his throat, rearranged his glasses on his face, then he dusted off imaginary flint from his white khakis. He was very obviously uncomfortable with all the attention. I observed all of this with the periphery of my mind, while my main thought function focused on the way that Debisi had said my name. It was the first time I’d seen him since our kiss last night, in the palace courtyard, since I’d officially given him permission to call me by my name. I’d heard him call my name before, but this morning, he’d uttered it with reverence and awe, as if it was an honor just to be able to say it.

A warm tentative palm brushed against mine, just before thin fingers wound around my hand and rested lightly against my skin. My eyes rose to Debisi’s face, and I could tell from his light hold, and the fear in his eyes, that he expected me to pull my hand away. I wrapped my fingers around his hand and grinned when his nostrils flared and his smile widened. He was just too cute. Handholding. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had initiated a handhold with me.

“It looks like we might be hearing wedding bells by the end of the year,” one of the nobles behind us teased. The teasing met which much approval from the Ooni, which I suppose was why the noble said it.

“Is something wrong with Mede?” Debisi kept his voice low. I shook my head. I was touched that he’d been observing me closely enough to notice that Mede not guarding me was an anomaly.

“She’s training the fledglings.”

“Fledglings?”

“Tumblers a year away from the end of their training.”

He frowned. “You brought trainees to guard you in a foreign nation?”

He was worried about my safety? Really, adorable. “I was not aware that I needed heavy guard in Bono. Am I not safe in your nation, your highness?”

His eyes snapped to mine. “No, of course not, I just meant…” it took him all of ten seconds to realize that I was teasing him. Then he shook his head at me and looked away. “Why so formal?” He threw my earlier question back at me in a soft tone that only I could hear.

I leaned close to his ear to whisper, “I wasn’t told not to be.”

He turned around so quickly that if it had taken a second longer to rear my head back he would have headbutted me. “Of course, you don’t have to be…I mean you shouldn’t be…I mean you can call me whatever you want Tan.”

“Whatever I want?” He nodded. “Are you sure? I have a pretty good imagination,” I lowered my voice, “and a very dirty mouth.”

His ears reddened and he smiled wide enough for his dimples to make an appearance, but he said nothing.

We’d reached the stadium. It was smaller than the one we had in my palace. The white sand arena was the size of a standard football field. I imagined it doubled for a wrestling pit as well. No self-respecting Nulin nation went without both a wrestling pit and a football field in the palace. The seats in the stands were white leather, they looked large enough to comfortably seat about a hundred, with an area sectioned off for the royal family. The stands were empty now. My tumblers took up a section of the field, for their training. I imagined the Bono palace guards were meant to train as well, but they’d abandoned that training to gawk at my tumblers.

“It has been a long time since I’ve seen Isan tumblers fight. One could almost forget how good they are.” The Ooni’s voice held a note of wonder.

It was interesting. The tumblers fighting now were just fledglings, they weren’t yet, technically tumblers. I’d traveled with four of them this time. The group gravitated towards the fledglings going two on one against Eghe and another more matured tumbler. The fledglings did well, they held their ground. They trained with wooden shafts, and attacked their fully trained counterparts with coordinated thrusts. The Ooni climbed onto the stands and the nobles made to follow him. I broke away from the group then, pulling my hand gently out of Debisi’s.

“Revered,” Mede bowed when I jogged up to her. She stood by a table of shafts, drenched in sweat, and slightly heaving. I waved my guard away. They walked over to join the tumblers standing closer to the trainings.

“The fledglings look good,” I commented, leaning against the wall beside her.

She picked up a cup from the table and downed the contents. “You were holding hands with the prince.”

My eyes rolled to the side, glanced at her impassive face, and then moved back to watching the tumblers training in front of me. I rose my eyebrows. “Jealous? Just say the word and I’ll hold your hand too.” I let my eyes roll back to her and then move leisurely down her body. “I’ll hold whatever you like.”

Her lips twitched. “Should I assume that a betrothal announcement is on the horizon?”

“Now why would you assume that?”

“Because we’re still in Bono.”

I didn’t respond. Three of the fledglings were female, one was male. They were all young, by the looks of it, around my age, give or take a year. Eghe swung his stick. One of the tumblers jumped it, the other bent backwards to avoid its swing. Both returned to their former poses swinging. Eghe twirled his stick and knocked both of theirs away.

“He can’t take his eyes off you.”

“What?” I turned to Mede.

“Your prince.” She jutted her chin towards the stands.

I kept my gaze on her.

“He looks smitten. Is he?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Are you?”

“What are you fishing for Mede?”

“What’s in the water?”

“Look at me.” There were no emotions clearly showing on her face as she stared at the stands and none showing when she turned to meet my gaze. “What are you fishing for?”

“You kissed him.”

“And you care?”

She shrugged. “Normally you can’t shut up about that kind of thing. You haven’t mentioned it once. Is he the future Iyoba of Isan?”

“How did you know we kissed?”

“I saw you in the alcove.”

I remembered the alcove not being that well-lit. “Spying?”

“If seeing is spying. I’m not blind.”

“Not that I mind, mind you, you can spy on me kissing anyone whenever you like. Kissing, sucking, fucking, you are welcome to watch. You have in the past.”

“At your father’s orders,” she stated in a biting tone.

I frowned. “Why are you snapping at me?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, we kissed. Yes, I’m staying in Bono longer to get to know Debisi better. I don’t know if I want to marry him yet, but I’m considering a betrothal. I don’t know if he’s smitten. I know that I’m not, but feel free to badger me about this whenever you please, and I’ll be sure to tell you if that changes. Was that all?” My tone was flat. The expressionless mask fell from her face. She looked away from me. “Can I go back to watching my tumblers now?”

Her gaze snapped up. “Yes, revered, of course.”

“Of course?” My eyebrows inched upwards, “so I need your permission?”

Her eyes widened. “No, revered, of course not.”

“No, I shouldn’t ask for your permission?”

She shook her head. “You shouldn’t.”

“Now you tell me what I should and shouldn’t do.”

“No, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“The nerve!” I gasped. “Now you presume to tell me what I know.”

“No…”

I took a step closer towards her, frowning. “You’re disagreeing with me.”

“No,” she took a step back, “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Looks to me like you dare a lot.” I stepped closer.

She tried to move backwards but the table blocked her retreat. I leaned closer towards her and she leaned back. I placed my hand on the table, she watched the appendage as if it was a snake that could bite her. I reached behind her and picked up a training shaft, then I took a step back and she heaved a sigh of relief. I threw the shaft at her, she caught it, staring warily at me. I lifted my hands to the knot of the white velvet wrapper tied around my chest. I kept my gaze on her as I loosened the knot and let the wrapper drop. She caught it before the material hit the sand. I took the shaft from her hands.

“Do I have your permission to spar, Mede?”

“What can I say that won’t get me into trouble?”

“That’s a good question, next time ask yourself that before you open your mouth.”

She bowed. “Yes, revered.”

“Really, it’s so unfair of you to taunt me like this, rile me up and then leave me with no other way to relax than to go out there and spar. The next time you get me this worked up, I’m venting on you, in a dimly lit room, with the both of us naked.”

She rose her head and looked me straight in the eyes. “I guess that’s fair enough.”

My heart lurched and then it started racing. I took a step back, stunned by her response. Then my eyes narrowed when I noticed that her shoulders were shaking. “I wasn’t joking,” I warned.

“I agreed with you, revered.”

I gaped at her, but I got over my shock quickly. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Don’t hold your breath. All this means is that I’m going to have a better filter on my words.”

I shook my head at her, smiling as I jogged over to the tumblers. For obvious reasons, Mede had had my full attention when we spoke and so I hadn’t noticed the distinct halt in conversation. My tumblers still trained, their focus was still on their sparring, but everyone else stared at me. They gaped. The Bono nobles, the Bono palace guards. I found their sudden attention on me slightly troubling, but I shrugged it off.

Eghe stopped swinging and bowed. “Revered.” The rest of them stopped as well, bowing as Eghe did.

“Have I grown a moustache Eghe?”

He rose his head. “No, revered.”

“Then why are they all gawking at me?”

“I think it’s the girdle, revered.” It was one of the fledglings who shed light on the conundrum. Her voice shook when she spoke.

“Ah, the girdle, thank you.” I smiled at her. She looked away shyly. I’d forgotten that this was the first time since I arrived that I hadn’t been formerly dressed in my velvet wrapper. Now I wore my girdle, it was purple, unlike the red that regular tumblers wore, and it had my family’s crest embroidered in gold on it. But it was just as revealing as my tumblers’ girdles. It stopped at midthigh and it was sleeveless, which I suppose, made it more revealing than the regular tumblers’ apparel. Since I knew the cause of the looks, I found it easier to shake off.

“Take a break,” I jerked my head at Eghe and the other mature tumbler, “let’s see what the fledglings have learned. Four on one.”

The tumblers I’d dismissed bowed and jogged towards the table. I saw out of the corner of my eye that a light skinned individual, in khaki shorts and a shirt, was coming towards me. I turned my back on him and positioned myself in the middle of the four.