Chapter 2

The earth shook under the throbbing hooves of the galloping horses. The cavalrymen advanced towards the grand gates of the kingdom of Muzagah. Soldiers on horseback lifted up their glittering swords and sang songs of war in furious delight. The infantry army, which comprised of the men from Egeton, a province of the Empire which lay five miles east of Muzagah, joined the rest of the army to invade Muzagah.

 At the head of the group was a man on horseback, who looked different from the rest of the soldiers, judging by his royal armour. He lifted up his spear, and his men understood his gesture as they halted in a moment of disorderliness.  

The man’s chest was covered with a gleaming bronze breastplate emblazoned with regal drawings. He wore a red garment that swayed sideways when the winds blew against it. He seemed, by all standards, the leading figure. He dismounted from his horse and collected a battle helmet from a soldier who handed it to him. He wore the helmet, transforming his handsome face to an ugly mask. He snapped his fingers, and a black soldier gave him a scabbard. He pulled the glittering sword out of its scabbard. The gaze of the men around fell on the sword as it absorbed the sun’s reflected light, dazzling a soldier who was walking behind him. 

Escorted by two huge armed bodyguards, Prince Habeb walked slowly, ahead of his soldiers. The army was now close to the magnificent gate at the entrance of the kingdom. The prince made another gesture which stirred a section of the army. Some troops of soldiers separated from the cavalry unit and ran towards the northern end of the great walls. They began to shout slogans of war. This act aggravated the state of tension that held the people of the Kingdom of Muzagah.

Usually, the main gate was always guarded by soldiers. Over a thousand sentries were always designated by the ruling authorities to guard it against invasion from invaders. Today, the sentries were stationed on top of the turrets. They were prepared to fight from that point. They held stones, clubs, arrows, and spears. They were ready to strike their enemies below.

Presently, the armies of the Empire of Suramy surrounded half of the perimeter of the wall of Muzagah. The masked man clapped his hands in the air. Then, another set of soldiers gathered in profuse number near the main gate. The master breakers of kingdom gates commenced action. The strong men rolled battering-rams against the grand gate as the rest placed rigid ladders against the wall. They covered their heads with shields and struggled to climb up to reach the top of the walls. But their actions brought an immediate response from the guards at the top.

The sentries stationed up hurled stones and hot oil over the ascending enemy, so as to thwart their forceful entry into the kingdom. However, that did not stop the progress of the climbers even as they suffered casualties. Unyielding, they forged ahead, resisting the upward attack. Soon, various units of soldiers were designated to all corners of the fence, doing similar damage to the wall. With a synergy of vigor, some parts of the wall fell.  The gates fell soon after.

There was a mad rush to enter the city of Muzagah and destroy every living human. Having being in suspense for hours; anticipating and visualizing what they desired: the rape and the sharing of treasures; they drove in furiously into Muzagah with the intention to kill and destroy properties.  Suddenly, the sound of a trumpet filled their ears. It was a signal to stop. Prince Habeb had ordered a trumpeter to send the desperate soldiers his message. It wasn’t yet time for the killing game to begin.

After the gate fell, it revealed the courageous soldiers of Muzagah. The front battalion appeared to be in defensive position; clasping tightly  to their spears, swords, shields, maces, and clubs, alongside other local weapons. To the Suramites, the defensive actions exhibited by their foes seemed laughable. The Suramites were war veterans. Without considering superstitious factors, if one is to predict victory by all the physical criteria during battle, the Suramites knew that victory was theirs. They had all it takes, physically to defeat their foes.

The dusky atmosphere began to change. Darkness covered the kingdom. The lights of mayhem radiated therein: the movement of flaring torches in restless state illuminated the darkness.  The prince sent an envoy with his last words to King Guaya. The simple message was: Give me Banabella, and let peace reign. Minutes later, the messenger returned with the king’s reply, “He still insists that she is dead. Banabella will never be yours.” The prince understood in simple terms, that the battle will be fought. 

He stood firm in the cleared circular space. Advancing further, he removed his dazzling sword from its sheath, and shouted, “Men of Muzagah! Today you have chosen to follow your leader to the grave. Your king has deceived you all. Do you choose to die for Banabella? This sounds stupid, you might say.  Your king has channeled your souls to the pit of fire. Ah! Cursed humans. Today you will inherit what he has left as a legacy to you all. What he has bequeathed to his people – death. And I say this again, you are between death and a multitude of lions. Flee from death!  I may consider giving you the chance to redeem your souls if you grant my request. You act like fools and believe that what happened to Nana will happen to Banabella if I marry her; which is absolutely false. Banabella is a  woman I  adore because she is like a twin of Nana, my first wife, who was unfortunately sacrificed to the gods to save my life, although, she didn’t live to know that I loved her. Yet, you barbaric people declined my request. Look at your numbers – they are very small. I’ll crush your armies.

“We had besieged this Kingdom and took possession of it. It's ours. They say your gods punished you when Nana was sacrificed. Is it really true? Speak for yourself …King Guaya…” He took a deep breath and paused, waiting for the arrival of King Guaya. 

From the army of Muzagah, King Guaya stepped forward amidst the muttering of his men. What they were fighting for, they murmured. Was it because of a woman? They were told it was the will of the gods. Their voices grew as King Guaya arrayed in royal battle gears, with no mask, bustled out from the front battalion.

 He was the ruler of the kingdom of Muzagah. He was the tallest of all of them, apart from the abnormal giants who guarded the prince. He was not sophisticatedly dressed in war attires like his rival, yet his chest was encased in a sort of poor quality brass-made breastplate which complimented the male skirt he wore which was made of lion skin. A white girdle tightened his waist. Feathers of all kinds were stuck to his crown. Five medallions, two amulets; one bronze pendant and chains dangled about his neck. He walked like a big elephant, stamping the earth with vigor, and trundled gallantly forward. He had come out to discredit the prince’s accusations. He knew the prince as so cunning a man who could tempt one to enter into the large maws of a wild beast with verbal baits. An unwavering faith held him strong. 

In his inner mind, a voice pushed him on. The voice of whom? The gods? The prince had called him a fool several times. He had called his people fools also. Be it as it may, he’ll fight tooth and nail to defend his belief in the gods. To compromise with the prince was an act of disobedience against the will of the gods. But the gods’ definitely could not sit by and watch them die. Perhaps if they fight, stones, rocks, celestial fires and troops from above will intervene for their obeisance, he thought. He’ll not compromise. Never!  He was flanked by two brawny black soldiers. 

He bellowed in defiance, “Prince Habeb! I know you by your voice, even though your face is covered with a mask. I am a man of prudence, so if you add 'fearless' you have fully rated me. I do not talk with pride as you do. To blame your evil intent is nothing; for we are the underdog nation. We have been fulfilling our own terms with the Emperor by paying our tributes to him so we can live in peace, but you have come to shatter our peace deliberately for unworthy reasons. Love for goodness sake has no connection with war. You do not love Banabella. You are a scoundrel. You murdered the true heir to the throne of the Empire of Suramy. Your gods got you confined to a sick-bed because of your sins. We have heard of all these events. You sacrificed Nana to live; and now you seek another Nana to kill. You’re concealing your evil deeds. Open it up. If you truly love her, you will not wage war against her people. You will not carry a burden of fulfilling this vow of yours. But you’ll die! You have committed so much evil. This will be your last. I am dogged. I have fought wars – many wars. Death eludes me as a weak man runs away from the strong. Why should I fear you? I have come out to let my people know the path I have chosen. We have to protect ours. If we do as you say, Zoe will strike us all. Maybe both the Acharians and the dreaded raiders, and Da Morones might attack us for no fair purpose. We are already in a dilemma of death that is an inevitable end for all humans. 

“This day, you will join me in the world of our ancestors. For I come with full morale to fight against you. I have compelled my people to die by the hands of men and avoid dying by that of our gods, for if Banabella; the mother of all black beauty, is sacrificed to your gods to save your life again, then what will befall us?”

King Guaya stretched forth his right hand to receive something from his guard. A soldier who stood behind him proffered a battle helmet to him, which he affixed to his head. The faces of the two kings turned devilish, as they meditated in silence. Both were intent to fight on the battlefield, for no reason or logic could change their hardened hearts. In a traditional manner, the king raised up his gloved hands, uttering obscured incantations. The prince did likewise. When they were through, King Guaya stretched forth his fingers to accept the prince’s hands in order to seal the war.