When Gods Bleed (13 page)

Chapter 13

The King summoned Chief Odagwe, and as much as he tried to lie to himself, the chief knew why. His contempt for the King was solid. They grew up together and between them there was a bond. He had been there for his supposed brother all his life. The only time he ever asked Obi for anything, the boy refused him. The excuse that he was a child was not acceptable; he had made his decision with the heart of a man.

Obi was not the only one the chief’s fire of vengeance burnt toward. His entire family had forsaken him the day he walked out of the house. All the things Odagwe lost because of his father’s Ikaza status couldn’t be substituted by being trained by an Omee. Even by one who was good like their father was not enough; he needed the respect that went with it. Every time he passed a particular status, everyone mocked the son of the Ikaza and he hated them for it. Most especially he hated every member of his family for it.

Odagwe looked around the palace; there was something different about it. The King might kill him on this day, but he did not care. He saw him sitting on his dirty throne and he bowed down to the man they called King, but to him was an insolent pig.

“Odagwe, my brother, I am sorry for bringing you out here in these gory times.”

“For my King it is my duty to be within your presence at anytime you request.”

“Do you think this battle we are in is necessary to us?” the
Head-of-Government asked.

“The Yeres refuse to accept our King and their soil is fertile,” Odagwe said.

“They are not in the vicinity of our kingdom. They have every right not to accept me as King,” Obi said.

“But their land flourishes crops of all fo
rms and they breed healthy livestock.”

“
Omees from the Yere land are very fierce in battle, especially in water, and their land is bounded by rivers.”

“I do not intend to enter into a battle which I cannot walk away from with my head high.”

“How high your head is, is not the problem. If your head is still on your body, is what we’re talking about,” said the towering Gbangba, bouncing a mango in his hand.

              “So you guarantee me victory?” the King asked, ignoring his Head-of-Government’s mockery.

“I would settle for nothing less, my
King.”

“
Gbangba, give me some time alone with my chief.”

“At you request,
Your Majesty.” The Head-of-Government bowed to King Obi and left the two men alone.

“It has been long since we have had the chance to talk alone, Odagwe.”

“Destiny has a way of covering the good times, Sire.”

“Anyway, we are here together now like the old days.”

“There cannot be anything like the past, Sire.”

“Our father used to take us to see the lions when they were mating.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, he was my father, not our father. I have known you since your birth; you were never good at small talk. Please, what is the purpose for me being summoned here whilst my Omees wait patiently for me to give orders for them to blow the horn for battle?” He spoke more confidently as the Head-of-Government was not anywhere near to punish him for his fraternal attack.

“You take advantage of my position. You fail to realize that the only reason you are alive is because we have the same mother.”

“For the last time, we do not have the same mother. We were raised by the same woman, which you realized was not your mother. I have never taken advantage of your position. I am a chief because I earned it. If you decide it is time for me to die, do not expect me to beg.”

“You are jealous. I feel it through the echo of your voice. I find that feeling you carry completely unnecessary.”

“There is nothing to be jealous of, Obi.”

“If you wish me to treat you as a King, so shall it be. On your knees while you address me. I want to see maximum respect.”

Odagwe went down on his knee slowly.

“I heard you are betrothed to Onyela
, daughter of Imasuen.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I cannot hear you, Odagwe.”

“Yes I am, Sire!”

“How much dowry have you placed on this girl’s head?”

“Enough.”

“As you are leaving meet the Head-of-Government, he will refund whatever price you feel you deserve for letting go of her.”

“I am sorry…I cannot concur.”

“Do I detect defiance?”

“No
, Your Majesty, but the girl is unworthy to be your queen.”

“That is for me to decide.”

“She is not a virgin.”

“
Imasuen said she was raised from the shadow of men. The only outsider who got access to this girl was you.”

“I never said it was not me who took away her innocence.”

“Another lie. Everybody knows this girl lives for purity.”

“Again, I never said she gave in willingly.”

“When?”

“Two nights ago.”

“I could order your execution on the grounds of rape.”

“Then start a war with the people of Ekpona
Hills.”

“You flatter your people. I would rather say annihilation of the people of the Ekpona
Hills.”

“She was betrothed to me. I had every right to do what I chose with the woman who belonged to me.”

“You were betrothed to her since she was crawling. Why did you have to wait till now before you broke her innocence? You might as well have married her first.”

“You really want to know?”

“I wouldn't be asking if I did not want to know.”

“I saw your messengers bring gifts for her parents and I wondered why the King would send gifts to these peasants. I thought of their assets. The father is a very good palm wine tapper. They have a perfect family background and they have a daughter who is almost an angel, gracious in her every move. I was positive the only reason you scouted her was due to your spite for me. Then I heard you invited her to your palace. I hoped you would just look at her and notice that she was not exceptionally pretty. Unfortunately, you discovered that her beauty was in her heart. I watched your guards escort her home. The look on her face told me two things: you did not rape her, which I knew was your motive
; and she no longer belonged to me. So I stood looking into the sky wondering why I should lose such a gift created by heaven. But there was something about this girl that I did not understand. My two wives are more blessed with beauty than she. So I sneaked into her room. She tried to scream, so I put a cloth over her mouth, held her firmly to the ground, and raped her, not once, not twice, but over and over again. She seemed to have fainted before I had finished. I was extremely disappointed to notice that you did not rape her and she was virgin. So that’s about it. My apologies if I prevented her from becoming your concubine.”

“I never intended for her to be my concubine,” the King retorted.

“How stupid of me to think my King would think of such a thing with a girl like her.”

“Anyway, you asked why I sent for you.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“To invite you to my wedding to Onyela on the tenth day from today. The
Head-of-Government will meet you on your way out of the palace.”

“Why?” Odagwe asked
with his face looking strained.

“Because I can.”

“Revenge for Ikpong’s daughter.”

“I wish it were
, Odagwe.”

“Onyela has enslaved my heart
,” he sighed on his knees. “Don’t look at me on my knees as a mark of respect for a King, but look at it as a man who begs a King to let go of a woman he loves.”

“Why, Odagwe? For
love or your ego?”

Odagwe thought, then rose with renewed ego.
“I will not miss your wedding.”

“By the way, Odagwe, Onyela told me everything.”

So he knew everything all along and he had an excuse to torture me,
Odagwe thought while walking out.
I am a fool in his eyes. It seems he forgets the vulture is a patient bird. I am backed by destiny. The time for reckoning will arrive.

King Obi married Onyela, who gave birth to a son. Thus, the elders no longer bothered the King about his getting married to Weruche. She eventually became the King’s fourth wife and her son was finally a prince because his mother was no longer a concubine.

Chapter 14

Chief Vacoura of Alloida was inflexible and distinctly simplified. He had a normal life for a chief and his people didn’t expect him to rule like his predecessors. His people begged him to trade with the Portuguese, but as a man of strict traditional principles, he was not interested in touching anything that violated the morals of the land.

              His people gave a general cry for the slave trading with the Portuguese; they always went through the elders because they were not allowed direct contact with the chief. The elders of Alloida were made up of six of the oldest men in the province, all past warriors.

On
e stormy night, there was a meeting between the elders, the Tikpapa and Vacoura in his Haku. Vacoura entered into his conference room and saw the faces of the elders and knew exactly why they came. As he entered, all the elders bowed, including the Tikpapa. He gestured with his fingers urging them to proceed.

“Vacoura, your people cry out that they are being left out in this new world. They see the coconut of the other provinces bringing out sweet waters and they wonder why their coconut is dry
,” said the oldest of the elders.

The tallest elder continued
. “The duck that decides to spread its wings and fly has done no man harm. Vacoura, your people want to hatch from their shell.”

The youngest elder spoke next
. “What the Portuguese are ready to provide we need and what they want we have.”

Vacoura spoke slyly
. “And what do they have that we want?”

“They have luxurious item
s that sparkle in the moonlight,” the youngest elder immediately responded.

“That is pure vanity of man. It does not make the
land we live in a better place,” Vacoura replied.

“They have stallions that stand firmer than an elepha
nt and move as fast as the wind,” the oldest elder said.

“
Horses are vanity that the Arabians have spoilt us with and even then, Chief Odagwe's stallions are just as firm.”

“But the price we have to pay is more than what the Portuguese
are offering,” the youngest elder blurted out.

“We will manage what we have to be stronger within.”

“How about salt? You expect us to keep trading with Oludu?” Irritation was growing in the youngest elder’s voice. “We all know that the traditional salt that we get from our akanwo roots isn’t as good as those provided by the Portuguese. Yes, the kingdom is getting stronger, but all the other provinces are ahead of us.”

The oldest elder spoke again
.

“What they ask for
, we have in excess quantity: beads, cloths, ivory and…slaves. In this province a commoner has at least one slave; these are people who do not know what it feels like to conquer an opposition, or carry a wounded warrior during battle. We used to be a very great province. We used to be able to stand and every other province would stretch to look at us. We used to—”

“You used to be able to what? You ungrateful snakes,” the
chief interrupted angrily. “In the days of the past you walked in fear. Now you walk on the roads with laughter on your faces. You sip your wines without the thought of a spear coming in your back. Do you think I don't know what you people and all the market women gossip about? ‘He is a poor imitation of his predecessors.’ When the King gets to hear about us selling slaves to other kingdoms, do you think my head alone will be taken? He will execute all of you. He will make our women and wives concubines to people of the lowest niche in society. Our Omee and sons will be auctioned as slaves.”

“But nearly every province is into slave trade,” the shortest elder said.

“It is against the law to sell slaves to anyone outside the kingdom, that isn’t my law but the King’s. And even if the other provinces sell slaves in the shade of the night, you all need to remember, this is not every province. This is a proud and great province,” the chief shouted.

“The tortoise walks because he has no reason to run. It’s time for us to run or else everyone will leave us behind
,” the youngest elder said.

“Even if the tortoise wants to run, it cannot because it is not its nature
,” the Tikpapa said.

With a venomous riposte the elder said, “You answer me only when I talk to you and till then you shut that contaminated mouth.”

“The Tikpapa sounds with my voice,” Vacoura said calmly. “His words are my words; his thoughts are my thoughts; his reply is my reply. So if you tell my Tikpapa that his mouth is foul in my presence, then you are telling me that my mouth is foul. I will pretend that nothing of that nature occurred as soon as you send your apologies to my Tikpapa.”

“Chief Vacoura,
the patient one, if I, the son of this soil, have offended you my chief, I apologize,’’ the elder said. “But for me to apologize to a man of lower respect than I—even worse is that he is of a younger age than I—I cannot.”

“Even if I, Chief Vacoura of Alloida
, asks you to?”

“Even if you asked me again, I cannot apologize to a man lower than I.”

“Don’t push my hand, old man.”

“I am of the old breed. I will not dampen my pride.” The older man had his head low and eyes set to that of the
chief.

Vacoura waited for seconds, minutes. No response, not even an attempt of response.

“You will be executed by the peak of the day tomorrow in the middle of the town square on the grounds of treason. I will take care of the execution personally to give you the respect you deserve as an elder,” the chief said firmly, then he clapped his hands and the general approached. “Escort the elder to prison. Stay with him till the sun shines. Give him everything he desires, but let nobody see while he prepares for his execution.”

After they left
he turned to the remaining elders, discharging them and telling them to converge during the execution.

The chief was now alone with his warlock.

“Well?”

The dwarfish
Tikpapa spoke carefully, not due to the vicarious act that had been done on his behalf, but more because now he was sure he had been serving the right man for over a decade.

“If you decide to execute him, your people will no longer respect you. They will fear you and vilify you behind your back
. But if you decide to forgive him, your people will adore your forgiving heart and your words from then will be as dangerous as a snake with a goat in its mouth.”

“Pardon me, Great Chief,” the announcer said, “but the market women of the province stand by the gate screaming amnesty.”

“Tell them I have poor self-control and my blade is hungry.”

“Your elders fight against your decision.” The announcer said.

“Until tomorrow.” The Tikpapa gave a slight bow to the Chief and walked off.

There was a knock on the door and the chief knew it was time. He dressed himself in his chief’s outfit and walked out with his eyes straight. As he mounted his horse, the crowd kept screaming, “Amnesty!” This he heard continuously till he got to the town square. The warriors created two straight lines that formed a path up to the town square for protective reasons. As he passed each soldier, the soldier bowed.

When he got to the town square he was greeted by his elders and his Tikpapa. He looked up at the platform and saw the elder tied down on his knees. At this point he was ready to let him go, but the congregation kept shouting, “Amnesty!” Derogatory statements started coming from the crowd. Spontaneously, he picked up his sword climbed up the platform and sliced the elder’s head as though it were a coconut.

From within the crowd an arrow flew toward the chief’s skull. The Tikpapa stood out, blew white chalk in the air and shouted, “E JEKE EBE.”  The arrow stopped right in front of the chief’s skull and exploded into ashes sprinkling onto the floor. There was silence in the whole town square.

“If anyone has a problem with my authority, let him come now and settle it with me, man to man. I promise you nobody will touch a hair on your head
,” the chief said.

The silence remained except for the birds that sang. In anger the
chief returned with his party. He craved to polish a man’s blood on his sword in battle.
I am totally surrounded by cowards,
he thought as he rode away. From that day the assassination attempts proliferated, all to no avail, and his word became as hard as a rock.