Chapter 25 The Royal Palace, Royal Island, Kingdom of Oru #2
‘What did he tell you to do if you found her?’ Baba-ìtàn continued, ignoring the older man.
‘Who is she?’ the Lord Regent asked.
Tofa heard whispers of incantations from àlùfáà-àgbà. His eyes widened. He wasn’t … he couldn’t be using old magic to stop the man from revealing the truth.
Baba-ìtàn spoke slowly, ‘If you kill her, you kill –’
Baba-ìtàn slumped to the ground as àlùfáà-àgbà’s incantations stopped.
The guards rushed to the storyteller. Up on the dais, his father was on his feet too, walking down the stairs.
The Lord Regent wouldn’t have heard the chants that caused Baba-ìtàn to fall, but Tofa certainly had, and from their side looks, so had the women.
What could Baba-ìtàn have said that threatened àlùfáà-àgbà so much he would use old magic in front of the court?
Who was this girl?
‘Is he dead?’ the Lord Regent asked.
The guard closest to Baba-ìtàn lowered his face to the man’s chest. ‘He’s alive, Lord Regent.’
The Lord Regent slowly turned to àlùfáà-àgbà. ‘You did this.’
‘My Lord,’ ìyá-Ayé said quickly, ‘the priests interrogated him before bringing him here. It is not unusual for him to faint. We had no hand in it.’ As his maiden, she was always implicated in anything the old priest did.
‘Stand up!’ the Lord Regent commanded, and they all rose.
‘Take him to the chamber next to mine,’ he instructed the guards, before glaring at àlùfáà-àgbà. ‘When he wakes up, my face will be the first he sees, and as the gods live, he will finish that sentence.’
The Lord Regent stormed out of the hall, the guards following him with Baba-ìtàn in their arms.
High Priestess à?á was the first to leave, exchanging knowing looks with the others as she hurried out of the hall. àlùfáà-àgbà and ìyá-Ayé walked out, too, using another exit.
Tofa hurried towards K?ni. ‘Did you see that? àlùfáà-àgbà used a spell on him.’
K?ni rolled her eyes. ‘What else do you expect?’
‘That man knows something devastating. He must. There’s no way Father buys ìyá-Ayé’s excuse.’
A young maid walked through the servant’s entrance with a bucket and cloth to wipe Baba-ìtàn’s blood from the floors.
The girl glanced at them, and smiled. Tofa frowned.
He didn’t know her, and – then he saw K?ni smile.
His sister had a friend. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more, the friend or the smile.
K?ni turned to him. ‘If it’s that important to you, follow them. I’ll stay back. If you sneak up on them, maybe you’ll overhear something important.’
He looked at the girl and back to K?ni. ‘But we’re supposed to stick together. You’re … not trying to get rid of me, are you?’ he smiled.
‘I told you, I don’t care. Go or don’t go.
I’ll be fine. I’m not the one dying to find out everyone’s secrets.
’ But from the way her eyes flickered to the girl, Tofa could tell she definitely was trying to get rid of him.
Well, he’d always wanted more independence for her – and what was a few minutes of separation, really?
Tofa smiled and nodded. ‘I’m glad you’re making friends!’ Then turned away without waiting for a response.
Tofa almost ran into the old priest and the High Priestess as he sped through the corridors and down the stairs.
As they came into view, he slowly took a few steps back, leaning around a wall to see them huddled in a corner, talking in hushed tones.
He could see their lips moving but couldn’t hear anything.
From where he stood, he should be able to hear even whispers, but it was dead silent.
Then he figured they were masking their voices – old magic.
Luckily, àlùfáà-àgbà had taught him a few tricks.
He only needed to figure out which old gods were being summoned.
He pulled at his collar to take a deep breath, then noticed he couldn’t feel the morning breeze blow past him as it had just moments before.
He got it. They were using the wind to channel the sound of their voices in a different direction.
He closed his eyes, and called upon the old goddess of wind, ?ya.
Focusing on the right spell to use, he softly whispered the incantation to summon a gentle breeze towards him, allowing him to make out the voices, faint and distant.
He heard ìyá-Ayé say, ‘You lied to me, àjànàkú.’
Tofa supposed if anyone could call àlùfáà-àgbà by his first name, it would be his maiden.
‘I told you what you needed to know,’ àlùfáà-àgbà said in response.
‘So, when were you going to tell me that Mremí’s child lived?’
‘I had it under control.’
ìyá-Ayé laughed, and her voice echoed. She looked around, and Tofa scrambled out of sight.
‘You have nothing under control. You’ve let your silly fights with that man on the throne distract you from your true purpose.
Even the little you had in your hand, you’ve lost.’ ìyá-Ayé sighed, and Tofa had to lean in closer to hear the rest of what she said.
‘I don’t understand why you didn’t trust me with this.
Have I not proved myself to you? Yet you hold this failure close to your chest.’
‘Failure?’ àlùfáà-àgbà said, and Tofa could imagine the look on his face.
‘If you had told me who Mremí really was the moment you found out, she would’ve been dead before she could birth the trouble she did. My àdùnní would’ve been more than happy to see her end,’ ìyá-Ayé said.
Tofa searched his mind for the name àdùnní. He hadn’t heard it before. Probably just another maiden, he decided, then focused back on the whispering pair.
‘This again,’ àlùfáà-àgbà said, frustrated. ‘Mremí and àdùnní would have destroyed themselves, and this kingdom would have been nothing but collateral damage lost in their feud.’
‘Yes! This again,’ ìyá-Ayé said. ‘It was your job to kill Mremí and her child. And clearly, you did not. You forced me to kill my àdùnní for the future of this kingdom, yet you had our greatest enemy living in this kingdom raised by a priest you chose to join the Order. Or did you forget that it was you who brought ?niìtàn’s name to us? You who claimed the gods chose him?’
‘?niìtàn is my greatest mistake, and I do not need you to remind me. The fact remains that àdùnní had to die, and you know it. She broke the rules. She should never have been with a child, and definitely not of the man she chose.’
‘In that case, then why is Mremí’s child alive? Why are we hunting L’?r? down when she should have been buried with her mother?’
‘I did not know that the child lived! When we found Mremí after she escaped from the temple, she was alone, and she told me she buried the child with her own hands to keep it from me.’
‘And you believed her?’ ìyá-Ayé scoffed.
‘All that is past. What matters now is that I will find L’?r?, and she will die. By my hands if I must,’ àlùfáà-àgbà said. ‘But don’t you dare question me. I know that it was no mistake that a maiden of our Order under your care got pregnant. I often wonder if you made that mistake intentionally.’
‘I fed àdùnní the infertility herbs myself, as I do for all my maidens,’ ìyá-Ayé said, her voice laced with anger.
‘And what is your excuse for keeping àdùnní’s child alive?’ àlùfáà-àgbà seethed.
Then there was quiet. Tofa had to move a couple of paces forward to see if they were still there.
àlùfáà-àgbà’s words came slowly and quietly, ‘Did you think you could hide Milúà in plain sight? To be just another random maiden? With agbára like that?’
This name Tofa recognized. Milúà was the warrior maiden ìyá-Ayé had sent after Alawani and L’?r?.
‘Kill her,’ àlùfáà-àgbà said in a single breath, and Tofa adjusted again.
‘No,’ ìyá-Ayé gasped. Her voice took on a menacing undertone.
‘We both let children who ought to have returned to the sands live among us. Mine is a warrior maiden serving the gods and the Holy Order. And yours will be the end of our kingdom as we know it. So if we are counting mistakes and errors, look in the mirror, àlùfáà, and don’t throw stones, lest they crack the image you put up. ’
àlùfáà-àgbà sighed. ‘It wasn’t just for àdùnní’s crimes that her child had to die. Milúà’s father –’
‘She doesn’t know who her father is,’ ìyá-Ayé quickly jumped in.
There was a brief silence. Then Tofa heard àlùfáà-àgbà say, ‘Milúà is just as much a threat to this kingdom as L’?r?. The day she discovers who her father is, she dies.’
Tofa heard their footsteps and rushed out of the corner and down the corridor.
He ducked into another corner, then stopped, confused about what he’d heard and whose fate had been sealed for death.
He sighed. He really shouldn’t be skulking around in his own palace.
As he leaned against the wall, thinking of what to do about this enemy from the north, he considered his position in his own kingdom.
When he took the throne on the next day of the first sun, who would be at his side?
His father would have relinquished his role as the regent, and returned permanently to the Sun Temple to lead the Holy Order as their High Priest. àlùfáà-àgbà – the Elder Priest – would likely spend the rest of his days grumbling as he did now, longing for the power his previous posts had afforded him.
And Tofa would be the king and supreme leader of the land of Oru.
His sisters would be his council, but if they were anything like their predecessors, they would always steer him in favour of their birth rings.
He was na?ve enough to imagine that after granting K?ni her freedom, she’d want to remain at his side the way she’d been compelled to.
He needed the Order of the Secret Twelve.