Authors: Njedeh Anthony
Chapter 1
7
A
fter the twentieth year of King Obi’s rule, the Okpalaukwu died at the age of ninety-two. During the burial of an Okpalaukwu, an initiation ceremony of his successor is carried out simultaneously. People danced on the grave of the dead high chief while his successor was locked in seclusion until the ceremony was over.
King Obi mysteriously died the day after, with the Head-of-Government
and the Headman to the Oracle by his side. For the King to be buried, his successor was to be the first person to pour sand on the body in his tomb. The longer it took for a new King to be crowned, the more people died and the easier it was for neighboring kingdoms to attack, so the people always cried for a new King.
The kingdom at this time had two princes who were contesting the throne. Such circumstances could only be allowed if the
high chiefs permitted it. The first was Weruche’s son, who had the dilemma of being born an unofficial prince and, by the time the king married his mother and he was officially a prince, another had already been noted as the first. The second was Onyela’s son, who was the first acknowledged prince of the kingdom, but not the first son. The high chiefs in such circumstances acted like watchers, waiting till the eighty-second day for a unanimous decision from all the province chiefs. After that, if they all didn’t choose the same King, the high chiefs killed the chiefs and picked whomever they wanted to be King on that same day.
During those
eighty-two days, if a King wasn’t chosen, the chiefs were exempt from the ruling of the high chiefs. They had the power to battle and conquer a province, putting whomever they wanted to rule. It was an opportunity for the lords to give their sons a chance at power, beating the inability of passing the chieftaincy position to their children, which only occurred when the King and the people of the province agreed. That was a very rare occurrence. Everyone knew the chiefs would take advantage of this time, when gods bleed.
There were six provinces at this time and six chiefs
— Ihua of Ahoda, Otuturex of Abogima, Oludu of Ndemili, Vacoura of Alloida, Pokzee of Ogwashi and Odagwe of the Ekpona Hills. All the chiefs were supposed to come together to the palace on the seventh day after the death of the King.
In
such a quandary where there were two contenders for the throne, the princes had their Hurdenes draw up any political scheme. The Hurdene was usually the person the King candidate trusted the most. The Hurdene always went out of his or her way to make sure their candidate became King. The Hurdene had powers overriding his or her candidate when he became King, unless the candidate was over fifteen years of age. The Hurdene could be his brother, his friend, his relative, his wife, but most kings always chose their mother. If one of the contesting princes was not chosen, both the prince and his Hurdene were immediately put to death by the high chiefs to prevent any form of treachery, so the Hurdenes normally fought till death to get their candidates crowned.
A
fter the King’s death, the fastest messengers were sent to the six provinces to invite them together for either a quick decision to be made about the King’s heir or a longer one that could extend for not more than eighty-two days.
On the seventh day the palace was drained of all its vitality. Every woman in it had her hair shaved as a symbol of disowning her beauty with the death of the husband. The
King’s palace was still with its flawless panache and the structure awaited its new master. Most times a new King built another palace at a site where he would feel safer, thereby creating a new capital province.
Everyone in the palace was expecting the
high chiefs and the chiefs to arrive. It was evident that they were taking advantage of the death of the King to exercise the flexibility of their powers. The King’s first wife, Queen Ifrareta, was preparing the palace for their arrival. Due to her slightly bulky nature, her pregnancy was not too obvious. She was a very ordinary looking brown-skinned woman and she loved her position. She could have sent over a hundred maids to prepare the palace, but she chose to do it with them, notwithstanding the fact that she was six months pregnant. Throughout her preparation, she still did not let anyone know that she was in the vicinity.
Chapter 18
The first to arrive was Chief Ihua of Ahoda, who was still firmly built and unusually agile for his age. His people always complained of his age and each time this occurred he conquered a new village to rekindle their trust. To those whose voices were too loud, he sweetened their throats with the finest palm wine from the forest of the black sky. Once in a while he put a little poison in it. He had seen over sixty years, but he could not imagine giving up his chieftaincy to do anything else. He couldn’t become Okpala because he wasn't the oldest man in the province. Neither could his son take his place, as only an Omee of great respect could take that position and it wasn’t hereditary.
Why should I give up my title to become one of the elders of Ahoda, not even Utagba? To imagine that the elders are not allowed to sleep with other women outside their wedlock. May the gods forbid me that punishment. I know what to do. After this
King succession problem I will go and get that enthusiastic warrior, that bloody son-of-a-palm-wine tapper and I will deal with him personally. Imagine the peasant
wants to be a chief. Come to think about it, this succession thing might be to my advantage, but those old dismantled, dirty elders of the King’s court might bring up this chief issue. Why am I bothering myself? By then I should be talking to the King.
He saw a calabash of water and went to wash his hands. His reflection flashed before his eyes and he realized that it was not only his youth that had passed away
; the heart of the
Omee that became the chief had sailed to a place he could not reach. He looked around at the emptiness of the castle, and it sent chills down his spine in fear that it could be a trap.
Someone might have told the
King about the slave transactions I had with the Portuguese. Then he makes me believe he is dead. I doubt that. They were too few for him to have noticed. It could be that palm wine tapper's son who went behind my back to set me up. Anyway, if they want to attack us, my Omee and I will fight to the end.
He sighed
and scanned the room
.
I should stop deceiving myself. With only two hundred men, my bones would be fed to the vultures.
When h
e heard the sound of horses, a relief grew upon him.
Thank goodness, it is not a trap. I wonder who it is. It’s not as though it prevents what is going to happen from happening. I have seen their voracious eyes over the pride of my land.
The next to arrive was Otuturex of Abogima. When he entered, there wasn't the crowd of hypocrites that normally surrounded him, or the dance of a thousand coquettes. It was accepted for now because this was a time of death. He was a big-boned man with a thick beard and he had a sluggish way of walking. Although the quietness of the palace made him realize that anything could happen, he wasn't called Otuturex the Conqueror for nothing and he didn't carry over a thousand men for decoration.
Why would they want to kill me anyway? I send them my normal taxes, which happens to be larger than what I am supposed to give. Probably their eyeballs want to stretch into to the vastness of my land. They were always jealous of my attachment to the
King. They probably want to bring up that issue about that mysterious death of former Chief Ezeonisha. How can they even think about suspecting I killed a man who was more than a father to me, the first man to show me how to hold a spear? In fact, let me hear the first person to
utter a
word about it; I will bite his tongue out of his mouth. Then they will know that those who stick their fist in dirt usually get their fingers dirty.
The deeper he walked into the palace, the stronger the reality of the death opened to him
, and he thought back to the first time he saw the King.
*
He was only eight years old. A man ran into the house soaked with water from the sky and blood from the flesh. He searched all the rooms as though he was looking for something in his own home. The child wanted to scream for his stepfather to throw this intruder out, but the look in the man’s eyes, even for a child, was fearsome. Otuturex took it personally that his presence as a child made him not worth noticing. The intruder suddenly started climbing to the top of the room. The boy at this time was positive of two things: the first was that he hated their moving to this isolated place at the boundary between Ozuoba forest and Utagba; and secondly he made a mistake by not following his mother out.
The boy
watched as the man climbed to the rafters, holding firm to them with a knife in his mouth. When the man noticed him, they studied each other from different heights. Suddenly, the home was surrounded by six Omees armed with swords, knives, bows and arrows.
H
is stepfather ran to the door of the room with bewilderment in his face.
“Great warriors of good fortune, what brings you to my humble home?”
“We are in search of a rebel and we have reason to believe that he is seeking refuge here.”
“Honorable
Omee, do you try to soil my name? I am an honest trader between the two boundaries. Why would I want to take a man who wants to rebel against an Omee? It seems you are not aware that my brother is Chief Ezeonisha.”
“He is a rebel against the
King and our orders come from the Head-of-Government. Please step aside, we want to search the house.”
With disgraced humility his stepfather moved aside and the
Omee searched everywhere on the ground without looking above.
“Where are the other inhabitants of your home?”
“My wife and her sister went to see their mother and I am alone with the boy.”
“You mean you have only one wife and a child?”
“My other two wives couldn’t give birth to children and they convinced themselves that I had problems, so they left.”
“Why would they think so when you already have a child?”
“The child was by another man.”
The warrior grinned and continued
.
“Have you seen anyone around here?”
“Not a soul.”
“How about the boy?”
“I don’t know. I was not with him.”
“What is his name?’
“Otuturex.”
The
Omee walked toward the boy and asked, “Have you seen any stranger recently?”
The boy used all his willpower not to look up because the man they sought was hanging horizontally above him with a knife in his mouth.
“Is that supposed to be a jest? Nobody ever comes to this area and I am sure my mother is not coming back here again,” the boy said.
“Would you shut up,” the stepfather
snapped.
The
Omee laughed.
“If I were you, I would not talk to the little one like that or else he
, too, will leave you for more fertile soil.”
Everyone laughed except his stepfather, who burned with rage.
The boy, meanwhile, had spotted blood on the floor; above him, the strange man was trying to shield his cut hand. The boy knew that sooner or later the warrior would notice, so spontaneously he grabbed the warrior’s knife and cut the Omee's hand.
“Is something wrong with you?” his stepfather shouted.
The Omee held his hand, speechless and shocked.
“It seems you are not man enough to raise a child. Let me teach him that manners are part of our custom
,” said another Omee, who gave the boy a slap on the face.
The boy got up and stuck his tongue out to the warrior. With anger for the child’s unrepentant response, the
Omee used his large palm and struck him again on his face. This time the boy landed on his back and slid on the floor. The boy shed the kind of tears that came from a mature man, but a sound did not come from his mouth. He got up again and pointed the knife at the
Omee.
“I am so scared. The boy has a knife and wants to kill me
,” the
Omee said.
Everyone laughed.
There was a burning look in the boy's eyes, then all of a sudden he started laughing and everyone else stopped. He took the knife and cut his own hand, still laughing. Then he turned in circles.
The
Omees watched the apparently possessed child with a combination of pity and fear. An Omee was trained to face anything physical, but anything of a spiritual nature always scared them. They tried not to walk out of the house too quickly, or else rumors would spread that they ran from a child.
His stepfather, with the last paternal strength in him, said to the boy after the
Omees had quickly walked away, “It’s time for you to go to bed.”
To his amazement, the boy went to bed with blood dripping from his hand. From that day he watched every word he spoke to the child. As the boy went to bed with finger marks on his face, he was impressed with the act he had pulled. He re-enacted how he saw a possessed girl turn in that cyclic manner when he went to the market with his mother.
In the dead of the night while the young Otutrex pretended to sleep, someone woke him up. The man untied the cloth around his palm to show a bleeding hole and then took the boy’s hand that was bleeding and merged their blood together. With a final glance he disappeared into the night.
To imagine that the man he helped was the
King—King Obi.
*
“Otuturex the Conqueror!”
“Who is that man who calls my name and stands on his feet?”
“ It is I.” Ihua banged his chest with his fist. “Ihua of Ahoda.”
“The Immortal, you stand firmer than I.”
“Stop flattering me. I am an old man.”
“You insult the ancestors that a man with such juvenile vitality calls himself old.”
“Anyway, how are your people?”
“They are all fine. I hear that the immortal is still expanding.”
The stupid pompous fool could not even wait till we finished with the matters of our beloved
King before stylishly bringing up the issue of his third wife’s village. I thought he said she was a witch.
“Forget all that rubbish people are saying. We are still a small province, but it doesn't stop any of these
ambitious warriors from wanting to take my chieftaincy title from me. Do they realize what it is to kill a rhinoceros with your bare hands?”
This old monkey is beginning to cross the line. Prove to me that you have four heads to speak what dangles in your mind. Let me polish your skull with my sword
,
the younger chief thought.
“I have a couple of them in my province, men who dip their hands in fire knowing what the pain feels like, but wanting a
possession that they cannot afford to handle.”
This fool is getting on my nerves. I should bend him down and give him twenty lashes from a tangerine cane. He is lucky he came to the capital as though they called him for a battle, or else
I would have dealt with his young blood. I should be careful though, if I say too much, they might decide to end me here.
“Forgive me, I forgot to congratulate you on your new born son
,” Ihua said with a rejuvenated smile on his face.
Who does the old monkey think he can seduce with that kind of woman-talk? Does he care about his own children before asking about mine? If I were the old fool, I would have disappeared from the face of the earth. Apart from that, I am positive every other Chief has his eyes on the salt of his land. During the meeting I will publicly declare war on Ihua first, before someone else beats me to it… I am good at what I do.
“Otuturex, are you okay? I inquired about your son and you were lost in thought.”
“Please forgive me. It is just dawning to me that we lost a great King.”
“Who has arrived?”
“I really cannot see.” He tried peering down at the battalion. “But from this distance, the man carries the flamboyance of a peacock. It could be The Python.”