“So, how did it go?” The tension that draped on King Nnaji’s features receded when his brown eyes failed to pick any tension on the face of the forest or the leaves. The muscular features of Kalu followed behind, holding that swagger that portrayed strength and authority. And royalty too. No palace guards were hanging on their shoulders. The two men were alone, like always, and the curiosity that streaked the edges of their aging brows sent a lovely wave of satisfaction down Jide’s stomach. If he had his way, he would rigmarole and enjoy watching the men sit on that fence of perplexity. “They took the bait, I presume?” The disappointment in Kalu’s tone dispatched a chill down Jide’s spine. It was as if the man had wished they would not come back. As if deep down he wanted them to perish there in the enemy’s camp. But…no, it can’t be. Jide shrugs off the thought. Kalu was not just a trusted servant, he was the King’s brother. The finest man in the kingdom and the meekest. And I trust

“Drop your weapon or I will kill you,” Jide shouted, or so he thought, for the sound of his heart which swelled his head and ears, made it impossible for him to iron his thoughts correctly. His throat was like the face of a desert, and he could feel his tongue perching on the roof of his mouth and causing a painful sensation that almost peeled the skin from his palate. Tightening his grip on the sword, he locked his gaze with the older man and advanced. The sword felt strange in his hands too but he didn’t let them go, not while the other man’s gaze still boggled down at him as if they knew all the sins he had committed. Jide did not care though. His blood was already boiling. All he wanted to do at the moment was to shoo the Hawk man away from the King’s brother. If he had not acted immediately, perhaps Kalu would have been a dead man. But you will be a dead man too if you continue. Jide shook off the thoughts and tried with all willpower, to swallow down the fear. He was going to di

Mmiri (water), yes, that's the word. The notorious word that has circulated the village since time immemorial. It has even become a swear word and used by angry parents to scare their children away from the claws of weakness. The reason was still a mystery to Ugo. Even though her mother has repeated the story countless times, it still did not make any sense. Live to fight another day. That was another side of the puzzle that appears not to fit. Yes, it made no sense, because the one man that had taken those words into action had been labeled a coward. The people had called him a fool for saving his life. His own life. Ah, what else is more precious than life itself? Honor? No, only the living speak of honor. The grave yearns and longs for the chaplet, but indeed, only the living are worthy enough to wear the festoon and perceive its marvelous fragrance. Well, here they are. According to her mother, it was twenty years since the incident. The 'blessed twenty', as mother always puts it.

“By the heavens!"Adaku jerked away, but her elbow caught the calabash by the right, knocking it off from the rack and spluttering the black liquid. Nnenna’s eyes broadened as she tried to jump away, but Adaku did not give her the room. She caught Nnenna by the collar and landed two hot slaps on the older girl’s cheeks.“My…princ…”“One more word from you and this Uri (local pencil) would be the last thing you remember when I have your head hanging on the crimson pole.”Tears were already dripping as Nnenna held her cheeks. She muttered something under her breath but did not make any reasonable sound. Adaku was tired of Nnenna’s foolishness. She had taught the girl how to hold the pencil so that it wouldn't hurt. But every time, Nnenna would push the pencil with so much pressure that it often sent a stinging sensation through Adaku’s skin.“Are you stupid?”“I am so sorry, my princess. It won’t happen again.”“Yes, of course, it won’t.” Adaku breathed out, not realizing she had been h

The drums continued to frazzle the night. It was the third beat of the normal traditional cycle. Well, maybe not the third, but his eyes dazed through the curtains of darkness when the music suddenly stopped. Sitting up from the floor, he strained his weak ears. Waiting, and listening. Could this be the redemption he had hoped for? Ah, of course not. There was no redemption. His father was dead. No siblings, no uncle. It was foolish to think anyone would come to his rescue.His stomach knotted as he lazed back on the pole. Not that the music had returned, but the footfalls of silence was the only proof he needed. He was not going home anytime soon. They would not let him return, not while he remains the son of their enemy. Not while he was the child of the best warrior in the land.Do all you can for the king, but never trust him with your life. Jide closed his eyes to the voice of his father. If only he had heeded to the advice of the old man