Chapter 42 Ìlú-Òdì, Sixth Ring, Kingdom of Oru #2
‘I am not a murderer, boy! I won’t kill him.
In fact, your sole purpose until the boy takes the crown is to keep him alive.
If he dies before taking the throne, the crown will go to his sisters, and more people will have to die.
No, he will stay alive until he is crowned king.
But as is the way of the world, young kings always die in battle, and it is time for us to conquer the north.
There, the boy will meet his fate. I tell you, my child, before the following first sun comes, you will wear your father’s crown. ’
‘How did the Lord Regent not see through this plan? You manipulated them all. You did all this to kill his only son.’
‘I have loved Tofa from the moment I held him in my arms. No one in this kingdom will ever think that I would kill the boy who I have so openly cherished. His sacrifice will hurt me just as my son’s death did.’
Alawani listened in horror as his grandfather’s voice thundered through him and he wondered how he could ever weave himself out of this fate.
He was pulled out of his dream memories now as the battle rhino stopped at the entrance to the Lord General’s keep.
Regardless of his grandfather’s proclamations, he always assumed the old man would find another way to rid Tofa of his crown.
But when he had found out his L’?r? was the true firstborn, it had broken him.
For if L’?r? died and Tofa’s claim was revoked, àlùfáà-àgbà would have his plan work without having to kill the boy he’d raised like a son.
She was an easy target and one àlùfáà-àgbà would never let out of his grasp.
So Alawani had been even more determined to get her to freedom.
Even if it cost everything he held dear.
And it had.
Once the soldiers helped them off the rhino and attended to Tofa, who was now awake but barely conscious, he walked into the keep and made his way to the dungeon where he’d spent the night with L’?r?. The air was filled with her scent. He sat on the bench, folded his knees up to his chest and wept.
He cried because he knew he’d never see her again.
Sometimes Alawani felt that he was doomed to lose everyone who was dear to him.
For a long time, he’d wanted desperately to explain to her that his father had requested more than a promise from him.
He’d drawn an oath from his lips. An oath to fulfil another which had been made on his behalf.
He wasn’t free to make vows. Not in the way she’d wanted.
He’d hoped the Red Stone would take him and free him from all oaths and the consequences of the decisions he wasn’t brave enough to make but it hadn’t.
Instead, he’d survived and it had proved to his grandfather that he was the chosen one.
Every time he’d tried to tell her, his fear of his grandfather had kept his lips sealed.
L’?r? would never be safe in Oru. His grandfather would never allow it.
Just like her brother, their days were counted.
Alawani lay across the bench in a foetal position.
He didn’t know when he drifted to sleep and found himself back in the Sun Temple, lying on the Red Stone.
Once again, he found himself looking up into the eyes of his grandfather.
He screamed and shuffled off the stone, holding his torso to fight the pain until he realized there was no pain.
‘Where am I? What’s happening?’ Alawani asked as he spun to face his grandfather.
‘Where is the girl?’ àlùfáà-àgbà said in an even tone.
‘She’s gone.’
The black of his grandfather’s eyes ran over the whites and Alawani found himself staring into what felt like a pit of darkness.
Terrified, he took several steps back. The further he moved, the closer his grandfather seemed to be to him. ‘My son died so you could claim that throne and you risk it all for a girl? A spawn of your enemy. How dare you?’ The old man’s voice boomed in his mind so loudly, he felt his ears bleed.
‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ Alawani said, finding courage within his fear. ‘I’m here, and she’s gone.’
‘You could have killed her and ended this!’
‘I have done everything you’ve asked of me. I accepted your call, I broke my vows to L’?r?, I have chosen your gods and your Order. I have nothing more to give you,’ Alawani said, his voice breaking. ‘I could have died on this stone. I’ve given you my life.’
àlùfáà-àgbà’s voice softened, ‘My dear child, I would never have let that happen.’
As he spoke, Alawani felt the shame of knowing that death by stripping was never a risk. His life was never in danger. His soul would never have been forfeited to the Red Stone. L’?r? had done all she did for nothing.
‘The gods have declared that you, my boy, are special beyond words. You will no longer be prince in name alone, without power or authority. You are to be our king,’ àlùfáà-àgbà said, holding his face.
‘Once you become High Priest and Lord Regent of this land, you will perform your duties in the marriage ceremonies and have your heirs, but you will not yield until your death, and your firstborn will rule until his death, and every firstborn will rule, and our kingdom will reign forever. Don’t you see the glorious plan the gods have for us, my boy?
’ àlùfáà-àgbà said, urging his words to convince him.
In the light of all he knew now, even through all the fighting, he felt pity for Tofa, the boy who’d soon meet his end.
Now that the crown heir was without agbára oru, that end might come even sooner.
Despite everything, Alawani couldn’t deny the appeal of the throne.
A chance to redeem his father’s legacy. To keep the oaths his father broke.
He missed L’?r?. He loved her. His Tèmi was his sun.
His guiding star. The one who held his heart in a gentle embrace and loved him in ways he’d not thought possible.
And without her, he could feel a darkness shroud over him.
She’d kept him from sinking into himself more times than he could count, and he needed her.
He desperately needed her, and he would love her until his dying breath.
In his way, he’d upheld their oath: he had chosen her, chosen life for her, and in his heart, it would always be them against the world for he would always protect her.
So as much as it hurt, he knew he’d made the right call.
L’?r? could never claim the throne to the kingdom of Oru, not if she wanted to live. Because the throne was already his.
A knock on the door made him jolt up. It took a moment to reorientate himself in the darkness of the cell. He shone his agbára against the door and his heart ached at the dull orange light that came from his core. ‘Leave me alone, Milúà,’ he shouted at the door.
‘It is me, Márùn,’ the voice called from the other side.
‘Márùn?’ he asked. ‘What are you doing here? Come in!’
The girl walked into the dark cell, and he stood to meet her.
‘How did you get here? Are you okay?’ he said, worried. ‘Did you get Baba-ìtàn and Kyà? Where are they?’
‘I’m fine,’ Márùn said in a low voice.
She seemed to stand taller. Her clothes were different. If he had met her on the street, he might have thought she was a soldier in her brown leather outfit, nearly matching the tawny colour of her skin.
‘I’ve got a message for you,’ Márùn said as she cupped her hands in front of him and whispered old magic spells. A tongue of flame blossomed inside her palms.
Alawani looked from her to the fire and back. ‘What’s this?’
She stood still, not making a sound. A heartbeat later, a voice boomed from the flame, ‘Come home.’
àlùfáà-àgbà. His grandfather’s voice still echoed from his dreams.
He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a confused silence as he looked at Márùn. ‘I don’t understand.’
Márùn let out an exasperated sigh. The flame disappeared as she let her hands fall to her side. ‘àlùfáà-àgbà sent me to keep an eye on you since you left the temple,’ she said. ‘Perhaps he didn’t trust you to return, and I was to make sure that you did.’
‘Your life debt,’ Alawani gasped. ‘You’re not bound to my mother, you’re bound to him.’
Márùn nodded, a frown formed across her face. ‘I had no choice. Just like you.’
‘You made us trust you. Were you ever going to free Baba-ìtàn and Kyà?’
‘No,’ Márùn said plainly. ‘Were you ever going to leave the kingdom with her?’
Alawani glared at her, then said, ‘No,’ his voice raw with shame and guilt.
‘Why did you swear the sovereign oath to L’?r??’ Alawani asked after a moment’s silence.
‘The same reason you did. Everyone bowed, and so I had to.’
‘So you don’t believe her claim?’
‘It doesn’t matter what I believe, she’s never going to be queen. I pushed her to leave the kingdom because if she didn’t, I’d have had to kill her. And I’d grown quite fond of her,’ Márùn said.
‘Why did you let us get so far? You could have taken us back to the temple since the third ring when we met you.’
‘My orders weren’t to bring you back. They were to watch, follow and report. I believe your grandfather had other plans,’ Márùn said, eyeing him knowingly.
‘But what about the Order of the Twelve and everything you told her?’
‘It wasn’t for her sake I revealed that secret, it was for you.’
‘Won’t ìyá-Idán encourage the others to fight for L’?r?’s claim to the throne? She has influence and she will use it,’ Alawani said.
‘The Twelve are split in loyalty. Some will support Tofa until their last breath, and others like ìyá-Idán will choose L’?r?. We just need to have more people on our side.’
‘And where do your loyalties lie?’ Alawani asked.
‘Your grandfather said we are returning to the days when the crown was passed from father to son.’
Márùn knelt to the ground before him and shone the light of her agbára on his feet.
‘I am Márùn, Five of Twelve. On this day before the sun in the sky and the sands beneath our feet, I swear loyalty to you, Aláàfin Alawani àkanní Adédìran, King of Oru. May your heart burn like the sun, bright, hot, and undying!’