Chapter 18 The Sun Temple, Royal Island, Kingdom of Oru #2
àlùfáà-àgbà was already inside, waiting for them.
The older man bowed his head but not his knees.
‘Lord Regent,’ he said with an exaggerated groan as he shifted his body back upright.
The law demanded that anyone who came before the crown had to lie flat on the ground with their foreheads touching the ground until they were permitted to stand.
This half-hearted half-curtsy the old man had done was an insult and they all knew it.
àlùfáà-àgbà had himself held the dual position of High Priest and Lord Regent before Lord Regent Babátúndé and it seemed as though the old man used every opportunity to remind everyone of this fact, especially in the way he spoke to the Lord Regent.
Tofa wondered if his father noticed it as keenly as he did.
Lord Regent Babátúndé only nodded in àlùfáà-àgba’s direction and walked towards the raised dais, and sat upon a replica of the palace throne.
Tofa hated watching the power struggle between the two men who raised him – his father and the man he had turned to when his father’s heart had hardened.
For that reason alone, he couldn’t wait to be king.
For a certain period in every cycle of life and death of sovereigns in Oru, the position of the High Priest of the Holy Order and Lord Regent was held by a single person.
But sometimes, the new Regent ruled while the former was still alive and well.
When that happened, conflict was unavoidable, Tofa thought.
‘Tell me what happened,’ the Lord Regent said in a single breath.
Tofa stayed a safe distance away, keeping quiet and hoping they wouldn’t notice his presence. He could feel the fight brewing in the air.
‘I don’t like this, K?ni,’ Tofa said to his sister, then glanced back when she didn’t respond. Of course she didn’t respond. She wasn’t there.
àlùfáà-àgbà looked at Tofa and then back to the Lord Regent. ‘We should discuss these matters in private.’
‘Speak,’ the Lord Regent’s voice boomed.
àlùfáà-àgbà clenched his fists. But the law was the law, and the current Lord Regent Babátúndé now had the power he’d once had, and àlùfáà-àgbà had to bend the knee.
àlùfáà-àgbà talked about the passageway that the intruders had come in through, the boys they had taken, and how they escaped using strange powers to shield themselves from the maidens’ arrows.
‘Agbára òtútù,’ the Lord Regent said as àlùfáà-àgbà described the thing the intruder had created.
Tofa listened intently, even though he made sure his gaze avoided them both.
He wondered how his father knew so quickly the magic that àlùfáà-àgbà was describing.
There was a whole world of things his father and àlùfáà-àgbà, who had been his teacher and mentor from young, had kept from him, even as they claimed to prepare him for the throne.
For starters, Tofa wondered what in the world agbára òtútù was.
Never in the time he spent studying under àlùfáà-àgbà had he ever heard that term before.
‘How is this possible?’ the Lord Regent said.
‘You told me they were all wiped out. When I took your place as High Priest, you were supposed to tell me all the secrets of the Order from before the days of the First Sun until now, and you said that the people of òtútù and their cursed magic would never be a threat to this kingdom again.’
‘I told you what I had to,’ àlùfáà-àgbà replied with a straight face. From the look on his father’s face, Tofa knew he was mere moments from calling his guards.
‘àjànàkú, I wear the crown. To lie to me is treason worthy of death. Tell me the truth. The whole truth.’
The older man shifted where he stood. Clearly uncomfortable and deeply insulted that the Lord Regent had called him by his first name and without his title, the law was the law, and so quietly, he began.
‘The girl must be found. That’s the truth.
Our forefathers had the right mind to eliminate her kind. They’re an abomination.’
The Lord Regent listened quietly, leaning forward on the edge of his seat.
‘History says the cursed people of òtútù were lost to the sands, and the gods claimed back their lives, but some still live. Somewhere deep in the north, beyond the sands, at the edge of the continent.’
The Lord Regent’s frown deepened. ‘I know my history, àjànàkú. I don’t need you to tell me what the people of òtútù can do, I need you to tell me how they can still be alive and how long you’ve known about this threat to our kingdom.
How could you keep something like this a secret?
You’ve put us all at risk, and for what? ’
What history was this? Who were the people of òtútù and why had his ancestors tried to eliminate them?
How could there be something other than agbára oru?
And a kingdom outside of Oru that he hadn’t heard of?
As far as he and the rest of the kingdom were concerned there was no rival kingdom on the continent.
Tofa only knew of the sand raiders that lurked around the outer walls, and they had no magic at all.
They were barely surviving and could hardly be called a kingdom, least of all rivals.
Was there really an enemy dangerous enough to rattle two of the most powerful men in Oru?
Tofa’s unease grew as he wondered what other secrets the Holy Order were hiding from everyone and from him.
‘Did you know about this?’ Tofa whispered and glanced back to his sister, then sighed. He’d done it again. His shoulders slumped and he turned towards his father.
‘Who else knows about this?’ the Lord Regent asked after a few moments of silence from the Elder Priest.
‘No one else,’ àlùfáà-àgbà replied and turned back to face Tofa, ‘other than you and the crown heir.’
Tofa adjusted his body, rising to his full height, preparing to step forward if he had to.
‘How do you know where exactly the people of òtútù are?’ the Lord Regent asked.
Good question, Tofa thought, raising his gaze to àlùfáà-àgbà for the first time since he walked into the room.
‘Eighteen first suns ago, there was a girl of òtútù hiding in this kingdom. Luckily, we found her and interrogated her. We learned that the people of òtútù settled north in the mountains.’
The Lord Regent stood from his throne, his voice was a low growl, ‘Eighteen first suns ago I was Lord Regent. Why didn’t I meet this girl?’
àlùfáà-àgbà tried unsuccessfully to hide the ugly scowl on his face.
Eighteen first suns ago, the transfer of power would have still been fresh.
No doubt àlùfáà-àgbà made that decision as though he was still in charge.
Tofa was certain of one thing. When he was crowned as sovereign, for as long as he ruled, his word would be final above all.
‘And where is this woman now?’ the Lord Regent said.
àlùfáà-àgbà looked at Tofa and then to the Lord Regent knowingly.
‘Oh, gods! àjànàkú! What’s this that you have brought to our doorstep? You killed her?’
‘I did what was right for my kingdom and honoured the gods who blessed us with this gift to protect ourselves. We must protect ourselves from their rot, chaos and destruction! We can’t leave them alive! This is war. You, of all people, should understand what’s at stake.’
‘How can I? I didn’t see for myself what magic the girl left behind last night. And in the tradition of keeping your secrets, you have removed all evidence of it,’ the Lord Regent said.
àlùfáà-àgbà had been many things to Tofa over the years they’d spent together.
Years he remembered fondly. But Tofa knew àlùfáà-àgbà well enough to know that this wasn’t the full story.
It wasn’t ever the full story. There were more secrets to be uncovered.
Right there, Tofa decided he wanted to know more about these people and their power that threatened his kingdom.
‘That abomination couldn’t be left to mock our gods.
The people mustn’t see it. They mustn’t know of the past our ancestors fought to erase.
’ He paused. ‘Lord Regent, the war that Oru fights is behind closed doors, in whispers. Our real enemy, our only enemy, is the people of òtútù. It is our solemn duty to finish what our forefathers started. You know what powers they hold; their core is blackened, turning everything and everyone they touch to rot. No one with the blessing of agbára oru is safe as long as people who can take away those abilities are out there planning our destruction.’
The Lord Regent sighed deeply. ‘We must call a confidential council meeting to discuss this.’
àlùfáà-àgbà frowned. ‘The existence of the people of òtútù is a secret the Order has held for generations. To tell the council is to break that oath.’
‘I swore no such oath,’ Lord Regent Babátúndé said sharply. ‘I will not let this secret fester until it is too late to save our kingdom. I will bring this to the council, they must know … But we must make sure that this doesn’t leak out to the rest of the kingdom.’
àlùfáà-àgbà yielded, bowing his head slightly.
‘As you wish, Lord Regent.’ Then just as quickly, he said, ‘One more thing. No one knew about the tunnels in the walls. Even the temple maidens don’t know that they exist. Only someone who has been called and is now a priest could know about their existence. ’
‘So how did this girl of òtútù know about these secret passageways?’ the Lord Regent asked.
‘You tell me, Lord Regent,’ àlùfáà-àgbà replied. ‘None of my priests would ever reveal such secrets.’
Tofa watched his father’s face keenly as the realization hit him.
‘?niìtàn,’ the Lord Regent said in shock.
àlùfáà-àgbà nodded slowly. ‘I believe the coward goes by Baba-ìtàn now.’
‘It’s not possible. ?niìtàn disavowed the Order years ago. He wouldn’t dare.’
‘Oh, but he would,’ àlùfáà-àgbà replied.
The coward. The only person who’d ever left the Holy Order alive.
The one marked as an outcast, condemned in this world and in the afterlife for rejecting the call of the gods.
Knowing what he knew about the Order, it was a surprise that the coward had been allowed to leave where others had not – another mystery Tofa had to figure out when he was king.
The Lord Regent took a few moments to think, then said, ‘Bring him to me.’
‘I have already sent the royal guards to fetch him,’ àlùfáà-àgbà replied.
‘Alive,’ the Lord Regent said sternly.
‘How many times will ?niìtàn be allowed to mock this Order?’ àlùfáà-àgbà asked.
‘I want to look him in the eye when he confesses this crime,’ the Lord Regent said.
‘And the òtútù girl? We already have orders out to the guard to search every home. Let them know we are looking for the coward’s girl and give orders to kill on sight – we don’t have time to wait for a council meeting.’
‘I cannot believe that ?niìtàn would do something like this. He raised this girl?’ the Lord Regent said, confused. ‘Bring them both to me, I will decide their fate.’
‘No,’ àlùfáà-àgbà said, ‘she must die now.’
Babátúndé raised an eyebrow and tilted his head as a deep frown formed across his face.
‘Is it me you are speaking to like a child born of your lions? You speak so carelessly, like one who owns the sands beneath our feet. Do you also own the sun? The gods? Who is it that gives you the audacity to say no to me?’
àlùfáà-àgbà shifted uncomfortably, and Tofa had to stop himself from going to defend the Elder Priest as he usually would.
‘You have no authority in my kingdom, àjànàkú,’ the Lord Regent said in an even tone that sent chills down Tofa’s back.
‘I shouldn’t have to remind you that you serve at the pleasure of the crown.
I know my son is fond of you and if he were not here in this room, this would have gone very differently. Do not force my hand, old man.’
‘Even after all these years, you are still that scared young boy who walked into this temple hoping to die a coward’s death,’ àlùfáà-àgbà said.
Tofa shrank back in horror.
‘And now, I am your king!’ the Lord Regent said, rising from his chair.
‘Regent,’ àlùfáà-àgbà murmured.
‘Guards!’ the Lord Regent shouted at the door.
Immediately, the guards that had been dismissed earlier rushed into the room in pairs, awaiting orders.
Tofa stepped closer to his father, squaring his shoulders and placing a hand on his sword.
It wasn’t often that Tofa had to pick sides between the pair, and he’d never been sure where he’d land, so he was surprised to find himself instinctively at his father’s side.
A man he knew much less than he did àlùfáà-àgbà, who practically raised him.
‘On your knees,’ the Lord Regent said to àlùfáà-àgbà.
Tofa saw the look of defiance still etched on the Elder Priest’s face, mixed with disbelief. When he didn’t obey, the guards quickly held àlùfáà-àgbà and pushed him down to his knees. Tofa stretched out his hand to intervene, but his feet remained rooted.
Lord Regent Babátúndé walked closer to àlùfáà-àgbà, so close that he towered over the old man.
The Lord Regent’s eyes sparked golden with agbára as he bent over àlùfáà-àgbà and said, ‘Wherever the light of our gods shines, there I am king. And even here within these walls. I am your High Priest, chosen by the gods, so don’t cross me, or you will force me to show you which one of us wields true power in this kingdom!
’ He paused, then said, ‘You are not the High Priest. You are a priest in my temple, a shadow of what once was. Remember that in your old age.’
The Lord Regent glanced at Tofa, then back at àlùfáà-àgbà, then walked towards the door, leaving the old man still on the floor.