Chapter 21 The Home of the Maidens, The Capital City, First Ring, Kingdom of Oru #2
Aya’ba Oyíndà stood in the middle of the throne room, defiantly refusing to meet ìyá-Ayé halfway.
Her attire was ostentatious, from the remarkably tied gèlè that stood a few inches tall, to the flamboyant sleeves and embroideries that ran the full length of the striped a??-òkè she wore.
The mother of the crown heir wore five outfits a day, her colours coordinating with the five stages of the sun’s rising and setting from dawn to dusk.
While ìyá-Ayé looked like the midway sun draped in gold, to match the morning sky, Aya’ba Oyíndà’s ensemble was accessorized with red coral beads that hung low from her neck and layered atop them was a chunky gold necklace with sapphire stones that aligned down the middle of her neck, in line with the gold piece she wore across her forehead, centred by a ruby.
As she got closer, Milúà noticed how her mother wrinkled her face at the apparent show of wealth the younger woman displayed.
As though she’d not done the same thing.
Aya’ba Oyíndà was even more beautiful than people described.
At moments like this Milúà envied women like the Queen Mother, who were chosen whether through political influence or fate to be wives to a High Priest with the single job of birthing an heir.
Lavished with titles and more wealth than could be spent in generations, all for the price of their freedom.
Their bodies cursed to kill any man they laid with who was not their husband.
And a husband who had four other wives and a temple maiden all bound to him in the same way.
In the end Milúà looked away, realizing that all she envied was a prettier cage not unlike the one she was already trapped in.
As ìyá-Ayé reached Aya’ba Oyíndà, they both began the usual display of respect common among many women in the kingdom of Oru.
ìyá-Ayé pretended to curtsy, reducing her height by a few inches, and Aya’ba Oyíndà pretended to dispute this show of respect by holding her in place to stop her from going further down and meeting her at the same point.
Together they rose to their full height.
In this way, ìyá-Ayé had shown her the respect Aya’ba Oyíndà deserved for birthing their next king, and the Aya’ba had shown ìyá-Ayé the respect she deserved simply for being who she was.
They both smiled, satisfied with their theatrics.
‘What brings you to our side of town?’ ìyá-Ayé asked. ‘We know we aren’t worthy of hosting the Aya’ba, or you’d have come years ago,’ she added coyly.
‘I need to speak privately,’ Aya’ba Oyíndà said, shooting a glare at Milúà.
‘This is my house, Aya’ba. Say what you want to say here and now,’ ìyá-Ayé said.
Milúà quietly moved to the edge of ìyá-Ayé’s throne and stood at attention.
The room was silent for a moment, then finally, Aya’ba Oyíndà said, ‘I know you’ve heard about the incident in the temple. I need your help handling a delicate and very private matter.’
The younger woman stretched out her palm and revealed a cowrie shell.
‘Hmnn …’ ìyá-Ayé hummed. ‘And who does the Aya’ba want to kill?’
‘The girl who broke into the temple,’ Aya’ba Oyíndà said.
‘The girl?’ ìyá-Ayé asked. ‘How do you know her?’
‘I can’t tell you that,’ Aya’ba said. ‘Will you do it or not?’
‘The girl isn’t my problem, Aya’ba. That is for your husband to fix,’ ìyá-Ayé said. ‘And my girls aren’t mercenaries. You can’t just request them to fix your personal issues. Don’t you have royal guards?’
‘If that girl is who I think she is, royal guards wouldn’t stand a chance. I need a maiden. A warrior maiden.’
Milúà fought the urge to look at ìyá-Ayé.
Surely she wasn’t considering this. Maidens were not hired assassins.
Although, if Alawani was still with the girl, it could be the perfect opportunity for Milúà to redeem herself.
To kill the girl, bring him back and save herself from the trouble she was in.
She’d do anything to have just one night off from the weeping hall.
‘She’s your problem too,’ Aya’ba Oyíndà said.
‘What are you saying?’
Aya’ba Oyíndà started speaking in a dialect Milúà didn’t understand.
It almost sounded like the woman was singing as opposed to speaking in a tongue that was closer to that used for old magic incantations.
Milúà could pick out only a few random phrases.
A word similar to ‘death’ was used many times.
Then she heard two names that made her heart stop.
Mremí and àdùnní. Milúà didn’t know who Mremí was, but she sure knew her birth mother’s name.
She clenched her fists and slowly breathed out, returning her gaze to Aya’ba. This woman had known her mother too.
The two women continued their conversation in the old tongue, and Milúà tried unsuccessfully to make sense of what they were saying. At some point, ìyá-Ayé raged towards Aya’ba Oyíndà, who shrank back in defence.
‘There is so much at stake here, ìyá-Ayé. If you don’t believe me, ask àlùfáà-àgbà,’ Aya’ba Oyíndà said in the common tongue.
‘I believe you. What I can’t believe is how you could allow this to happen!’ ìyá-Ayé barked.
‘Me? What could I have done?’
‘Oyíndà, you could’ve told me!’ ìyá-Ayé raised her hand, and from where she stood, it looked to Milúà like Aya’ba Oyíndà flinched.
Titles were everything in Oru, hard to earn and near treasonous to erase from one’s name. Aya’ba Oyíndà seemed to find her courage again, and she scowled at ìyá-Ayé.
‘Aya’ba,’ ìyá-Ayé said, correcting herself. ‘Have you told your husband all this?’
‘No!’ Aya’ba Oyíndà said briskly. Then added in an even tone, ‘I already killed the midwife, and did everything àlùfáà-àgbà told me to do. The truth about the night can never reach the Lord Regent’s ears. He can’t know my involvement in this.’
‘In what you did or what you’re about to do?’ ìyá-Ayé asked.
Even when they spoke in the dialect she understood, Milúà couldn’t figure out the puzzle. However, from their countenances, Milúà knew ìyá-Ayé had the woman cornered.
ìyá-Ayé smirked, ‘I didn’t know you had this in you, Aya’ba.’
‘I’ll do anything for my son.’
‘And, of course, anything to keep your crown,’ ìyá-Ayé said, but Aya’ba Oyíndà ignored her.
She continued, ‘Consider it done. But first, I’ll be risking the life of one of my darling daughters for your son. What do I get for this service, Queen Mother?’
Milúà felt her hands sweat, and she rubbed it off on her clothes. Her heart thumped in her chest. She didn’t want to be a pawn in whatever politics ìyá-Ayé was playing, but she hoped her mother wouldn’t take away from her the chance to redeem herself and bring back the prince.
‘What do you want?’ Aya’ba Oyíndà asked through gritted teeth.
‘When your son takes the throne, he’ll marry a woman of Oru, any of his choice. His eyes will wander through the kingdom, but they will land on this house. In my house and on a girl of my choosing,’ ìyá-Ayé said.
Milúà’s eyes widened. ìyá-Ayé often told Milúà and her sisters how being maidens saved them from being married to men who’d use them and toss them aside.
The bond a priest shared with his maiden was more sacred than marriage, although the girls shared their beds to seal their bonds.
The difference was that the maidens got power for this bond as opposed to the burden of children.
‘You want the king to marry one of your barren daughters? You want my line to end?’ Aya’ba Oyíndà asked, unable to hold in her anger at the request.
‘Maybe you should ask someone else to help you, Aya’ba,’ ìyá-Ayé said calmly. ‘Anyway, what do you need grandchildren for, if they’ll have no title or claim to the throne?’ she laughed.
‘Do you dare mock your king, ìyá-Ayé?’ Aya’ba Oyíndà barely concealed her disgust.
‘Those are my terms, Aya’ba,’ ìyá-Ayé said plainly. ‘You have nothing else to offer that I don’t already have.’
Aya’ba Oyíndà was visibly uneasy. She looked around the room as if thinking of another solution. ‘I agree to your terms,’ she breathed. So quietly that Milúà nearly missed it.
In a loud voice, ìyá-Ayé remarked, ‘Perfect!’ Then she collected the cowrie shell and called out to the door, ‘?nìkan! Who is there?’
‘Blá ni,’ a maiden responded, running in and kneeling before their mother.
‘Our guest is leaving,’ ìyá-Ayé said, then smiled at Aya’ba Oyíndà. ‘Thank you for coming. Let me get to work.’
Aya’ba Oyíndà turned to leave as ìyá-Ayé said, ‘In the story you’ve told me, Aya’ba, five of you hid this secret.
Three are dead. Remember that when you return to your royal island and sit next to your husband.
It was his wife that you all killed. I don’t have to tell you what he’ll do when he finds out about your involvement.
He won’t hear it from me, but as you know, the walls have ears.
If you were ever going to confess, the time is now. ’
Aya’ba Oyíndà didn’t look back; she stormed out of the room, and Milúà saw the faint glow of agbára peeking through her clenched fists.
‘Take this,’ ìyá-Ayé said, handing the cowrie shell to Milúà. ‘Bring back your àlùfáà and bring me that girl’s ashes.’