Chapter 21 The Home of the Maidens, The Capital City, First Ring, Kingdom of Oru
The Home of the Maidens, The Capital City, First Ring, Kingdom of Oru
MILúà
It had been two days since Milúà and Bùnmi returned home to ìyá-Ayé.
Milúà hadn’t expected mercy the way her sister maiden had, but even she was unprepared for their mother’s plans for them.
Redemption came only after punishment in the home of the maidens, so night after night, ìyá-Ayé had made Milúà and Bùnmi punish each other.
After the first night, when ìyá-Ayé went in to heal Bùnmi’s wounds as was the custom in their house, she’d been disappointed to find no broken bones.
ìyá-Ayé punished Bùnmi herself that day and then healed her just in time to show Milúà exactly what she expected someone sent to the weeping hall to look like.
Bùnmi broke more bones in Milúà’s body than Milúà thought possible.
She had awoken the next morning blinded in both eyes.
It took several light beads for ìyá-Ayé to fix her.
So this morning, Milúà walked out of the weeping chamber leaving Bùnmi hanging from her ankles, a few feet in the air, bleeding out and waiting for Milúà to return to her by nightfall.
All Milúà wanted to do now was sleep after a night of screams that still echoed in her ears. But her mother had summoned her and so now, she stood out of sight by the doorway, watching as ìyá-Ayé paced across the throne room: the room in which she received guests and handed out orders.
ìyá-Ayé wore an emerald-coloured gown that trailed just a few feet behind her.
Its material clung tight to her curvy body and was cut below her neckline, her bare collarbones covered with layers of jewellery that matched her dress.
It always surprised Milúà that ìyá-Ayé didn’t flaunt her cowrie shells the way maidens did.
Milúà knew that ìyá-Ayé was proud of her kills, yet whenever she was fully adorned, there was never a cowrie shell in sight, all skilfully hidden beneath her clothes.
ìyá-Ayé stormed back and forth in front of her throne. Milúà could see the woman flare her agbára, her palms glowing brightly and dimming in intervals. Her mother was angry.
‘Why don’t you slap me?’ ìyá-Ayé scoffed.
‘èmi ìyá-Ayé, the mother of maidens, the dark side of the sun. You want to shut me out. How? How can you do what no other before you dared? àlùfáà-àgbà, you think because you lord yourself over that temple that you have power?’ ìyá-Ayé took the crown from her intricately woven hair and flung it across the room. ‘I will show you what power is!’
Milúà took a step back from the doorway and froze.
At first, Milúà had thought ìyá-Ayé was talking to her.
But when her mother didn’t turn in her direction, her heart eased.
Still tensed, Milúà peered in to see if àlùfáà-àgbà was in the room with her, but there was no one there.
She would not have been surprised if he was, as most conversations between the two of them ended in a fight, despite having been bound together many first suns ago.
And while it was difficult to consider her mother to be a woman scorned, these common moments of distorted reality happened so frequently that Milúà wondered if there was more to their fights than ìyá-Ayé let on.
Milúà kept her eyes down, waiting for ìyá-Ayé’s episode to pass. She could never tell if ìyá-Ayé wanted her to respond or not, to look her in the eye or not. Either choice would anger her mother when this mood came over her. So Milúà just stilled herself.
‘Milúà! Are you deaf?’
Milúà nearly jumped out of her skin. She rushed in and fell to the floor.
Milúà could almost hear her ears ring from the slap that would come if she spoke out or told her mother that she was clearly losing her mind, speaking to herself in an empty room. But she was already in more trouble than she could hope to get out of.
‘Is your sister awake?’ ìyá-Ayé hissed.
‘Yes, ìyá,’ Milúà said softly.
‘I hope you didn’t show her any mercy. I can’t stand weakness in my house.’
Milúà shook her head again.
‘Good. You know it’ll be her turn tonight, and whatever softness you have, she doesn’t.’
ìyá-Ayé started pacing again. ‘That man thinks he can sit in his temple, take my daughters and then keep me out of the game? Ah! Kò tó b. He’s asking for trouble!’
Milúà flinched and took a quiet step back.
At least once every blood moon, àlùfáà-àgbà did something to vex her mother, something they all had to pay the price for.
Milúà wondered how the old High Priest and ìyá-Ayé were ever bound to each other.
Or how they ruled together when he was regent.
Milúà hadn’t been alive when ìyá-Ayé ruled Oru as the High Priestess of the Sun Temple and right hand of the Regent, but if her reign within the four corners of their home compound was anything to go by, then ìyá-Ayé was not missed by anyone in the kingdom.
ìyá-Ayé stopped pacing, and Milúà risked a glance at her mother. ìyá-Ayé had knelt on the floor near the stairs leading to the throne. There used to be a rug there. ìyá-Ayé seemed to have her eyes fixed on a brown stain on the otherwise spotless floor.
ìyá-Ayé simmered and cursed at the blemish on the floor.
Milúà had sliced through enough necks to know what the spray of blood would look like.
It wasn’t uncommon for ìyá-Ayé to bring her enemies before her throne room and have them killed, but it was the first time Milúa had seen blood stain her mother’s precious floors and she wondered who it was that died at her mother’s hands.
ìyá-Ayé screamed, placed her hands on the spot, released her agbára and burned the floor, turning the blemish coal-black.
Were those tears? Milúà was stunned – this she hadn’t seen before. What in the world was happening to her mother? Instinctively, Milúà wanted to rush to her side but thought better of it as ìyá-Ayé yelled out again, scorching the floor one more time.
Milúà froze, questioning herself. This woman had either killed her birth mother or known who killed her …
yet, ìyá-Ayé had been the only mother Milúà had ever known.
She inched closer, watching ìyá-Ayé heave, holding on to her chest, her hair loose and obstructing her face from view.
ìyá-Ayé was the reason Milúà knew pain as well as she did, but she never let Milúà go on suffering for too long. She did always heal Milúà – eventually.
She crouched and helped ìyá-Ayé to her feet. Another maiden walked silently into the room, and just like Milúà, rushed to their mother, picking up the crown and helping Milúà lift ìyá-Ayé to her feet. ìyá-Ayé stared at Milúà, her eyes red from tears.
Milúà eyed the maiden who’d helped her. She wore gold armour that clung tight to her slender figure – Mikún, a warrior maiden.
She wore a gold piece that started as a pendant in the middle of her forehead and draped in three strands each on the sides of her face, leading to her ears, where large gold earrings sat comfortably.
Her neatly braided hair glittered with gold threads, one big braid and two small ones interchangeably throughout the front of her head, leaving a huge puff of hair that fell past her shoulders.
Milúà lowered her eyes, observing her own blood-red ensemble.
A hooded tight-fitted leather-like top that flared at the waist with matching trousers and her dagger on one side of her hip and her compressed staff on the other.
She yearned for gold, and if ìyá-Ayé had been fair, Milúà should have earned her warrior’s uniform many blood moons ago.
‘ìyá,’ the warrior maiden said, ‘Aya’ba Oyíndà is here to see you.’
‘What does that woman want?’ ìyá-Ayé said.
Milúà wondered the same. Aya’ba Oyíndà was one of the five wives of the Lord Regent and mother to the crown heir and had never come to the house of maidens before.
‘She didn’t say, ìyá,’ Mikún said quickly. ‘She insisted that what she had to say was only for your ears and the gods. She’s the mother of our crown heir, ìyá. I couldn’t question her.’
Milúà clenched her teeth. Why did everyone seem only to say the wrong thing to ìyá-Ayé?
While she was erratic, one thing remained constant – her pride.
Keep her ego gratified, and ìyá-Ayé wouldn’t be happy exactly, but at least you’d avoid a slap or two.
Mikún was another wrong word away from a heavy slap.
‘Bring her in,’ ìyá-Ayé hissed.
As soon as Mikún left the room, ìyá-Ayé walked through the false wall behind her throne.
Moments later, she re-entered, wearing a new, much more expensive, embroidered outfit.
A few heartbeats later, the Queen Mother walked in, dressed in a full-length royal-blue gown that sparkled with every movement.
ìyá-Ayé moved to meet her guest in the middle of the room.
Her new ensemble was dripping in gold, reminding everyone who she was before she took on the role of mother.
ìyá-Ayé adjusted her crown as she slowly approached Aya’ba Oyíndà.