Authors: Njedeh Anthony
Chapter 19
The Python was Chief Odagwe of the Ekpona Hills. His province was the largest and estimated the strongest, and the inhabitants of his province were known for their heartlessness. When he was told the King was dead, he wondered why he was not filled with bliss instead of a slight trace of sorrow.
Walking into the palace, passing the empty rooms and mourning faces, he thought, It is not as though I was ever in Obi’s favor.
The ungrateful son-of-a-fool. I still remember how I saved the fool’s life in battle. My blood stretched through the fields of the lands he called his kingdom and what did he repay me with. When the war was over, he says to me with that evil grin, “Odagwe go straight forth to where the sun touches the end of my kingdom at the Ekpona Hills. Your province extends to that point to replace the land I have taken from you.”
If I didn't have any respect for him, I would have spat in his face. But I, The Python, went to the end of Utagba and stretched its tentacles to areas over the hills, where men feared to step. I proliferated the kingdom into extensive power and what did I get in return—my taxes were increased over tenfold. Did I complain? No. Did I plan a coup? No. Instead he sent his despotic friend who exacerbates every inch of me to be my envoy. Imagine the conceited bastard having the audacity to think I did him wrong because he was the King. He took my sweet wine that came from the fruits of goodness away from me. The thought still pierces my heart till now, the satisfaction he derived from what was rightfully mine.
Chief Odagwe surveyed the palace like an eagle seeking its prey. The farther into the palace he went, the more the environment disgusted him. He hadn’t seen any of the chiefs. Can you imagine this vagrant group of chiefs? They have not arrived. They are expecting me, The Python, to sweep the floor they will sit upon.
“The Python of the Ekpona Hills,” Chief Ihua called out.
“The Immortal of Ahoda,” Odagwe replied.
“The feathers of your gayness radiated the skies before you arrived.”
“If there was a man that had a sweeter tongue than yours, he hasn’t yet been born.”
“You flatter an old man.”
“Otuturex.”
“Odagwe.”
“They should have informed me that we were coming for battle and I could have brought my wives.”
“Your sarcasm still grows with your age. They came to give sacrifice to the Okonta shrine.”
“I wonder what is happening these days. The bat thinks he can see with the sun; now he tells me ‘my sarcasm grows with my age,’” Odagwe said in a resonant tone.
“Do I tell a lie?” Otuturex asked.
“You hide behind your legion of females who call themselves Omee. If I have to listen to another single note of disrespect coming from your arrogant lips, you will not see the next sunlight.”
“I shiver with fear. Maybe the thought has sailed through your memory, but I am chief and that means there is nothing that walks and crawls on this earth that I pay allegiance to except my King. Even when I was an Omee, it was solely to my chief. So don’t think you can come over here, look me in the eye, and expect me to be mollified by anything you say.”
“Remember what we came here for,” Ihua said.
“Otuturex, I hope your blade is as sharp as your tongue.”
“That is for you to find out.”
As swift as a panther, Otuturex drew his sword. Odagwe stood wickedly looking at him. Both sets of Omees in the palace protecting their chiefs also pulled their swords. The entire scenario was just a show of ego. Otuturex wanted Odagwe to know he was mortal; the only blood that could drop in the palace had to be at the hands of the King.
“Otuturex, that will cost both of you two herds of cattle,” the Ifa priest said in a soft tone, appearing from behind the throne.
High chiefs had the power to invoke an authority on any of the chiefs if they disobeyed any of the laws. The Ifa priest despised hedonism, as was expected from a man of his position. It was believed that he was ubiquitous, so people with abhorrent thoughts about the King always watched their tongues. Usually, in his free time, he did a little spiritualism with the dead. The slightest glimpse in his direction let him see into a person’s soul.
All the chiefs had heard the same story of how he became the Ifa priest. They were told that before taking the place of his predecessor, he was ordered to hunt down and kill every single member of his lineage—men, women and children.
At night he came in the form of an eagle and claimed those who fled. Some tried hiding under the protection of freelance warlocks. After he had killed everybody with direct contact to his bloodline, he took out a knife and removed his two eyeballs. He burnt them and gave them as sacrifice to the oracle. Myth or reality, none of the chiefs had heard any other version. One thing was for sure, with the blindness, nothing passed him.
“The great Ifa, you should forgive my actions in your presence, but the puppy thinks he can bark like a dog,” Odagwe said stoically.
“Ifa, even in your presence he called me a dog,” Otuturex responded, fuming.
“But Ifa, I didn't see you come in through the door,” Ihua purred.
All the chiefs looked at Ihua with disgust. Nobody ever knew where the Ifa priest appeared from and nobody ever asked. It was the Ifa priest’s way of telling them they had no secrets. Most times the King sent him to act as his personal hit man in case any of the chiefs stepped out of line, but for the King to kill a chief required an agreement from all the high chiefs. In order to prevent the perilous movement of a king’s or chief’s warlock, they always showed only their liege the loophole to their destruction.
Ignoring Ihua, the Ifa priest said with the same indifferent manner, “I want them in the shrine after the coronation. Where are the other chiefs? Do they expect us to wait for the sun to go on holiday before they arrive?”
“I thought the same thing myself when I arrived,” Odagwe said.
This High Chief title is beginning to get to this aging ape’s head because Obi is dead, Odagwe thought. First I had to listen to this infant-born-yesterday insult me. Now this blind man is talking as though he is God. He is lucky I came for something that required my presence, or else—
“I hope that they did not collide with an unfortunate accident,” Otuturex said with a suspicious stare at Odagwe.
Then Chief Oludu came in and said, “What are we waiting for?” as though he was there all along.
Oludu was average size, with small eyes and wide nostrils, a slim face and dreadlocks. Chief Oludu ruled over Ndemili with a subtle manner and a dangerous mind. His true self was incognito. When the King was alive, it was Oludu whom the Ifa priest said was not palpable. He gave an insouciant impression, thus no one really knew. He was the only chief in the past hundred years who took the position from his father.
When Oludu was eleven, he went with some hunters in the forest. During their chase for their prey, they left him behind. By the time they returned he was in the same spot with a dead boar in his hand. Nobody ever asked him how he did it, not even his grandfather, the late Chief Okon.
“Am I surrounded by men of respect who are supposed to lead men through the dark, or bats that don’t know the way home?” the Ifa priest exclaimed.
As the Ifa priest spoke, Otuturex thought, He should know.
In a flash the Ifa priest turned to Otuturex. “Or are my words too small to be heard, Otuturex?”
“Only a fool would believe that your words are not strong enough to hold an ocean,” Otuturex grunted.
“By the way, Chief Vacoura is on his way here. We were both held up by the muddy soil from the Choba Lake. His party was immediately behind ours,” Oludu said.
“Correct yourself, Oludu, I am not on my way here. I am already here. The Great Ifa, The Immortal Ihua, Odagwe the Python, Otuturex the Conqueror, Oludu the Untouchable, men of the King’s court, I greet you all.”
He gave them the traditional handshake, which involved the men hitting their hands sideways twice before a firm grasp at the elbow; Vacoura did so in order of age. The Ifa priest was exonerated from the chief’s handshake because only people of equal respect and those of lower authority participated.
The Okpalaukwu entered the conference room unaided by anyone. Everyone rose and bowed to give respect, except the Headman to the Oracle who pretended not to notice him. Left to himself, the Okpalaukwu would have distributed a handshake, but he knew that liberty required him being at least ten years younger, so instead he just gave a slight wave as he was helped to sit down by his men.
“Are we all here?” he asked.
“The only people absent are the Head-of-Government and Chief Pokzee,” Ihua responded.
“The Head-of-Government is with Queen Ifrareta. When we are all complete he will join us,” the Ifa priest said.
So they don’t want to kill me after all
, Otuturex thought.
“So where is Pokzee?” Okpalaukwu asked.
“I am here, Immovable Okpala of Utagba. I got held up by my in-laws. You know how these things happen,” he said, smiling.
When he looked around, he realized he was the only person with a smirk on his face. He begrudging hailed chiefs Okpala, Ifa and Vacoura. He did not bother to greet any of the other chiefs because he wanted them to realize that they were of no use to him and, if they wanted to start a fire burning, he was ready. After the Akuna incident, he didn’t care what anybody thought.
Chapter 20
The tall, wide-shouldered, one-eyed Head-of-Government walked to a spot where everyone could see him and began to speak.
“Now that we are all here, the egg can hatch. My fellow high chiefs, the chiefs of Utagba, it is my solemn duty as Head-of-Government of Utagba to address you men as our King is dead. The wing of the eagle has been cut down and it is time for it to grow another. We are all aware that there are two Hurdenes. Even our late King knew this would be. I am sure that you men are aware of the custom, but due to the etiquette of the land, I will repeat the laws governing the coronation.
“For the coronation, only the chiefs are involved in the decision-making. You have from now until the eighty-second moonlight to tell us your unanimous decision. If, by any chance, a general conclusion is not reached by the six chiefs, you will all be executed, whilst we choose whomever we see fit. From now till the eighty-second day of the King’s death, you are kings in your land. Do not abuse the powers laid on you. When the goose hatches more than one egg, who are we to ask it why? If the same sky that wets us with waters from the heaven opens up and scorches us with rays from the sun, do we dare ask it why? Let me tell the tale now and leave the folksong for storytellers. There are two Hurdenes with qualified candidates for the succession and both of them are here to address you. The first will be Onyela, daughter of Imasuen, the palm wine tapper.”
Odagwe smiled and made himself more comfortable as she came into the room. Onyela grew prettier as she grew older and the gracious aura was still with her. She knelt as she spoke.
“Infallible high chiefs, I humbly come to address you, the great Chiefs of our time. With optimum respect I come to your presence.”
“Rise and speak,” the Head-of-Government gestured to her with his hands. All the eyes of the seated men were on her.
“Honorable men of the King’s court, I am in your distinguished presence in lieu of the apotheosis of our King. For men of your esteem and caliber, I apologize in repeating the customs of the land to you. We are all aware from the first time the sun touched this great kingdom of ours that the man to be King has to be the first prince accepted by the capital and kingdom. The prince I gave birth to belonged to me for only nine months and that was when I carried him in my belly. Immediately after his eyes opened to the world, he belonged to the people of Utagba. He was raised fed, dressed and trained to be your King since he was born. This other child that is infected with a criminal’s blood—”
“Watch your words, woman,” the Ifa priest reprimanded her.
“Forgive me, oh great Ifa. My son may have seen only ten years of harvest, but his heart is that of a King. When the King first summoned me before I became his bride, I wondered what he would want from the daughter of a peasant and palm wine tapper. He asked me to cook for him and I was perplexed because he did not know me well enough to trust me with such a deed. When I had finished, he did not even ask his taster to taste the meal, he just started eating and asked me to join him. When he finished eating, he asked me if I would give birth to the next King. I said no because I was betrothed to another and he escorted me to where his guards were and told me he would continue asking every day until I got married to my betrothed. I went home with respect for a good King.”
The grin in Odagwe's face had disappeared and at this point a very edgy feeling was tickling his spine. He knew that every chief would derive satisfaction from what she had to say. She is probably going to say it is because she knows I will never let her son be King as long as I am alive. Probably that is the reason she seeks my death. I am impressed.
“I was under a force that was greater than I and then I knew it was my destiny to bear your King. The gods gave the King only two sons and from the two only one can be King. Search deep into your hearts without losing the slightest details because the choice you make does not only affect you men of the King’s house, but the commoners, peasants, women and children, not for now, but with the length of time.
“Yesterday I was the daughter of a palm wine tapper. I could run in the fields of the earth and nobody would ask me why. Now I am Queen, and I have to watch what I say because people listen. I have to watch where I go because people follow. If my son is to become King, for the rest of his life he has to always look back, or else someone will be there, waiting for him. The problems of every single person in this kingdom will become his. He will not be able to hold his children like a father, but like a King. I am sure you wonder why I am here then. I chose to be Queen because it was my destiny and my son shall be King because it is his destiny. No matter how you try, you can never run away from your destiny.”
She bowed and left the room.
The grin on Ihua's mouth continued to stretch as his thoughts dangled.
Sweet words. They could not have been better said by anyone else, but the antelope will not go and seek refuge with the lionesses in their den. If only Weruche did not come from Ahoda, I would have chosen Onyela's son to be my King. I am not getting any younger and the mother of a King with the same background as myself is the best token for better days, especially if she knows I voted him King.
“We have heard from the first Hurdene and now we will hear from the second, Weruche, daughter of Isagba,” Gbangba announced, and an Omee echoed it to her outside the room.
She walked in with an immortal combination of beauty and power notwithstanding her shaven hair. She bowed genteelly and began.
“The great high chiefs of our time, the stable chiefs of our future, I have a story to tell and I hope you will open your hearts to understand that it involves a primordial law that goes back before the birth of even the Okpalaukwu.
“Our late King had sixteen children and only two sons, of which we are bound by law to observe our customs. It is no secret that I was married to a criminal, but it does not change the fact that the first-born son of the King is the rightful heir. Forget all the alterations that changing generations have created. What has made us great has been the tradition that was passed on to us from generation to generation. Nowadays our customs have to be altered because I became a queen late, or probably politics is reconstructing our traditions. We never ask ourselves why things are the way they are because it would destroy those little things that we take advantage of. I am not in denial of the fact, both in my mind and heart, that my son is your King, but even if he is not to be better than his competitor, who is two whole years younger than him, has anyone thought of the wrath of the gods for such an attenuating action? Let us all think about it. If there was to be a tilt in the succession, why has the oracle not sent a message down to us on the alteration?”
“You should stay away from statements regarding the oracle because even when King Obi ruled, the oracle stopped sending messages to us,” the Head-of-Government directed her.
“But the oracle always opened the way for the King, if there were scales blocking our eyes,” she continued talking, not looking at the Head-of-Government.
“Well, woman, you have a point, but have you not noticed that the oracle also neglected your son? Do you have anything more to say?” the Ifa priest asked.
She nodded and continued. “I was married to a criminal I cherished and respected, but I slept with and married the King when he asked me to—not because I wanted to sleep with and marry him, but because custom demands I obey my King. That is why you men of our time should put my son as your King because our custom demands it.”
She bowed and walked away.
When she left the conference room, she was directed to another room to await the chiefs’ decision. Onyela was seated in front of her.
“Weruche, how is your day so far?” Onyela asked with a wicked grin
“Onyela, believe me when I tell you today smells like roses in the stars. How about your own day?”
''My day flows in the direction of perfection. It seems we both have a confidently good day so far, but by the end of the day one of us will not be smiling.”
“I am sorry to break your shortsighted illusions, but there is no way those men will make a decision today.”
“That I know, but my heart will pump like this until they do¬—be it days, weeks, months.”
“You cannot blame them. This is their chance to build their colony the way they want to, without the intervention of the King and the high chiefs.”
“I have to admit, if I was a chief, I probably would do the same and tell the Head-of-Government to eat my feces.” The two women laughed.
“Onyela, forgive my directness, but what makes you imagine that your son can be King?”
“Weruche, Weruche, Weruche, you are missing the message. There is nothing to imagine—my son is King.”
“I admire your optimism but the frog enters water because it knows it can swim. You have a chief vouching for your son.”
“I am impressed by your tactical deduction. Am I supposed to believe that you don't have a chief on the inside vouching for your son?”
“The touch of power has always tangled my spine, and now I have the chance to hold it in my hand.”
“Weruche you are diving too deep into your dream. May I remind you that even if your son is the chosen one, he becomes King and not you?”
“Don't play naive with me, Onyela, both our sons are children under the guardianship of their Hurdene.”
“Let’s not drift away from the facts. From this day, these chiefs are going to distribute blood on the grounds of the kingdom and their wars might proceed to the last day. We both have secrets we deny, but this war that will come is neither between the chiefs nor the princes. It really is between you and me.”
“Now that we are open with each other, I might as well tell you, I hated you then because of your subtle manipulative manner and I hate you now even more.”
“I am flattered and may I add that I feel exactly the same way about you.” They both laughed again.
“So what do we do now?”
“We wait for the men to realize they can’t make a decision today.”
“Chiefs of this great kingdom, we have heard from the two Hurdenes and it is time to reach a conclusion. You men can give a unanimous decision and prevent yourselves the problem of catching a snake by the tail. As of now we, the high chiefs, will excuse you men so you can have your privacy,” the Head-of-Government said, then left with the other high chiefs.
“Fellow chiefs, I feel it is better for us to get to a conclusion now because by the time we leave here without a general decision, we might get to understand that it is not easy for an ostrich to fly,” Ihua said, standing.
“I wish it could be as easy as you put it, Ihua, but the fact that you want Weruche's son to be King does not necessary mean we all share your opinion,” Vacoura responded.
“Vacoura, are you trying to imply that I came here with a biased mind? We all are aware of how your bark softens to the roar of a lion. Weruche is from the same place as you and we all know your—”
“Shut up, you archaic excuse for a chief. Before you knew what an Omee was, I was a chief,” Ihua spat back with a rejuvenated ego.
Vacoura is beating me to it. I have to look for an excuse to declare war on Ihua before he does
, Otuturex thought as the men bickered.
“Are you, Ihua, telling me, Vacoura, to shut up? The moonlight at night! The burning sun in the sky!” Vacoura said, hitting his chest.
“Chiefs, there is no need for all this hostility. Whatever you men have in mind, settle it amicably. By the way, Otuturex, please choose the day you will prepared for battle so I can attack,” Odagwe said indifferently.
“You seem to have prepared your decision before coming here. Or is there something I don’t know?”
“Do I make you quiver, Otuturex?”
“You amaze me, Odagwe. What makes you think I would allow you to attack? As the moon goes to bed on the fourteenth day, we will strike at the Ekpona Hills.”
Otuturex’s words came out as fast as his heart pumped and his head kept trying to understand what made Odagwe speak with conviction.
“Young man, I advise you to let me attack because your men cannot know the hills of our land. I would not want to defeat you flawlessly, or else Ezeonisha will be angry in his grave that he was killed for nothing,” Odagwe said condescendingly.
“The anxiety to taste your blood on my sword is making me thirsty.”
“Now that we are aware that we are not going to get to a unanimous decision, I would like to know when we go into battle Ihua, or else you choose to apologize for your abrupt words,” Vacoura said.
“Will the thirtieth day from now be okay for you?” Ihua said with a pride lacking strong foundation.
“Unquestionably perfect timing,” Vacoura replied.
“I do not intend to hide my intentions, but Vacoura's enemy is my enemy. Who plans battle with him, plans with me, so I declare myself initiated in this war against Ihua,” Pokzee said.
“I see Vacoura is too weak to fight alone, so he needs help from Pokzee to fight like a man. As they say, the stronger the war the greater the battle,” Ihua said, still with a smile on his face.
“Is it not amazing that today you smile and very soon I and Vacoura will witness the tears of an old man?” Pokzee said.