by Owen Oakley
“I’m not afwaid of a lot, but that night I was ta’wified. I was assaulted by one bwotha and was told by the other that I was being sent to ell on earth,” she said.
Taj’s story made Ashanti cringe and feel rage each time she heard it. She listened as she had done before with less of her humor.
“The ente’ joa’ney I pwepawed myself to die. I wanted to die.” Taj felt the water prickling in her eyes.
After she told Salim; her story had become more natural to say, but the emotions would never subside.
“My soldias weminded me who I was and whose I am.” She pointed to the sky.
“They offewed to let me go, but I chose to continue the path to Tigway.”
Ashanti was taken aback by Taj’s words. She knew what happened to her, but never heard the journey that led to her to Tigray.
Ashanti didn’t hide the dismay on her face. Taj was content that she opted to keep her eyes closed, she felt Ashanti’s gaze pierce her.
“You chose to go to Tigway?” Taj nodded as Ashanti shook her head. “Why?”
“Becaoze I didn’t know what the otha path eld. If I could escape Tigway, it was a sign that I was destined to be queen.”
There was the strength behind her words, belief; unwavering belief. Ashanti’s level of respect and admiration for her only increased.
Ashanti turned back to her binoculars. “Well, you ad a little elp,” she said.
Taj let a tiny smile slip because she knew she would say something comical to kill the sentiment of the conversation.
“I think we should ⸺.”
A loud explosion rocked and shook the foundation. Taj and Ashanti were pushed back into a brick post. The pain surge through their backs and sides.
The blast threw them off balance. Their ears deafened for a moment. An explosion that loud and powerful had to come from inside the palace. The two women got to their feet and raced down the spiral staircase.
There was a thick fog of smoke that burned their eyes. The cries and screams were heard below the stairs as they drew closer to the bottom.
Taj and Ashanti descended from the winding stairs with their weapons ready, but their eyes weren’t prepared for the sight before them.
Blood splattered over the walls and flew through the air. They could hear as the metal slashed through people’s flesh ⸺men, women, and children alike.
Immediately the two threw themselves into action. In-between swings and dagger throw Taj encouraged the people to move outside. She forgot the doors were still barricaded.
They worked to open them, and the Waewood soldiers on the outside fought to get in to help. The more men they killed, the more others appeared.
The smoke around them had begun to dissipate. Taj could see their problem. The Plipoolians tunneled their way inside the palace. She looked around to find an Ashanti battle with two men.
She ran to her side and brought both her swords down across the man’s chest. Ashanti stabbed the man in front of her, and he fell dead to his knees.
“They’ve tunneled thee’ way in,” Taj told her.
“What?”
“We ave to seal off the tunnel. If not, they’we going to keep coming.”
The barricaded doors finally pushed open. The Waewood soldiers ran inside, bloodlust with Bayo, who led them. Regardless of Ashanti’s doubts about Bayo, Taj knew he was loyal.
He was a skilled Zulu warrior, he had many maneuvers that quickly and effortlessly put men down. For every two men they killed, Bayo killed four.
When Taj and Ashanti saw their re-enforcement, they worked to seal off the tunnel. They took turns fighting and gathering things to put in front of the hole.
“Don’t expect this to old!” Ashanti yelled over the metal clash and grunts.
“Wouldn’t dweam of it,” Taj shouted.
God had given Ashanti a gift. When she turned to rejoin the fight, she spotted King Omari. He tried to cloak himself in disguise, but he was unable to maintain it during his movements.
Ashanti stood frozen, eyes locked onto him. Taj followed her gaze. She didn’t waste her breath to talk her out of it.
“Make it quick, we still ave mo’ to fight.”
Taj wanted to honor her end of the bargain.
Ashanti made her way over to Omari who battled a Waewood warrior. She patiently waited. Omari felt a presence near him so, he swung his sword wildly as he turned.
She blocked his first swing and every other that followed. They both circled each other. Familiarity set in; he recognized her. The Asante people were hard to mistake for anyone else. Her facial markings were a dead giveaway.
Omari gave a smug smile.
“I see you su’vived. It’s a shame what appened to yoa people. You should be pwoud though, they put up an ell of a fight.”
Ashanti didn’t fall victim to Omari’s bait. Her eyes never departed from him. She pointed her sword down in front.
“You’ll be joining them v’y soon,” he said.
Ashanti charged him back into the wall. Omari broke her grip and kicked her in the gut.
Taj continued to battle soldiers but kept a close eye on Ashanti.
King Omari never fought fair, anything he could do to win he did without hesitation. He lacked honor.
In the midst of the battle, Bayo landed beside Taj. They fought side by side. Quicker than her Bayo laid his man down and waited for Taj.
“Wha’s Ashanti?” Bayo asked.
Taj closed her mouth for a moment to conserve her energy. After she realized what Bayo asked the amusement among the craziness was undeniable.
“Concen’ed, awe we?” she asked with a grin. His cheeks redden.
“No, I’m twying to save her fwom that mouth of ha’s.”
“Wight,” Taj said clearly unconvinced. “She’s fighting Omawi.”
Bayo started off in their direction, but Taj stepped in front of him.
“We still need you. She can andle esself and she’d neva’ fo’give you fo’ stealing ha’ victo’y,” Taj told him.
Her words were true. Ashanti was a warrior, and that’s how she lived, and it wouldn’t bother her to die doing the very thing she loved. Bayo didn’t exchange another word.
Omari and Ashanti were both a bloodied mess. She had the advantage with him down on the ground. She disarmed his weapons, and all she wanted was to finish him.
With her blade to his head, Ashanti raised her sword to deliver the final blow, only to hit it into the pavement. Omari rolled and brought out a hidden knife and tore open her Achilles tendon.
She screamed out a loud cry of agony, that was heard by all. Bayo and Taj exchanged worried looks and fought harder to get to her.
Ashanti toppled over unable to hold weight on her left leg. She abandoned her weapons to stop the bleeding.
He immobilized her enough to gather his strength back. Ashanti was a sitting duck, but the pain was too severe, even at the slightest of movements.
Her weapons were too far away.
Bayo and Taj were met with more and more soldiers that hindered their escape.
King Omari got to his feet with his sword in hand. She used her right leg to scoot herself back, it was pointless, Omari towered over her. He jammed his blade into her side and ripped it out as blood spewed from it.
She grimaced in pain. Her vision was spotty, she laid in defeat while blood dripped from her mouth. Omari savored his moment. He slowly brought his sword over his head.
His body was exposed. Ashanti pushed through the kicked her foot several times into his groin. He slumped forward in pain his sword practically fell into her hand.
With his head down, she propped herself up and drove the blade into his skull, removed it and in one motion his head tumbled to her feet.
When Bayo and Taj got to Ashanti, she was soaked in blood, unconscious on the floor. Bayo sprang into action, he picked her up and carried her to the medical wing.
Taj had what she needed to end the massacre. She stood on the highest p
art of the stairs and held King Omari’s head in the air.
“It is ova’! You king is dead,” she yelled.
Everyone ceased. The Plipoolians dropped their weapons and retreated.
⸞⸟⸞
Ashanti’s eyes fluttered open. Everything ached from her waist down. The heart monitor’s beeping increased the pain she felt in her head.
She lifted her head searched for a familiar face only to find an unexpected one in a chair next to her bed.
She laid her head back on the pillow and laughed.
“You’we the last pesson I’d expect to be a’ when I woke,” she said.
She prepared herself for a sarcastic remark, but it never came. Ashanti saw the genuine concern on Bayo’s face.
She snapped her fingers in his face.
“Ello, I’m not dead, so stop with the intense look,” she told him.
Bayo stared blankly at her; he hadn’t thought of words to say once she woke up.
“Ow do you feel?” He asked awkwardly.
Her brow wrinkle and she crossed her arms.
“Ow, do you expect me to feel? I’m cwippled and a’ting,” she grimaced in pain when she moved.
With those words, he knew she was fine.
They were both in unfamiliar territory; he wasn’t used to openly caring about someone, and she wasn’t used to someone caring for her.
Their questions and reactions felt foreign, but it also felt natural.
“Is Taj okay?” She asked.
“She’s fine just an ell of a mess to wecova’ fwom,” he told her.
Ashanti shook her head, the memories found her; she defeated Omari. She smiled to herself. His death didn’t bring a single soul of her people back, but it was the satisfaction that she wanted.
She saw Bayo from the corner of her eye with his gaze set on her.
“Take a picture it will last longa’,” she snapped.
Bayo had grown fond of the smart mouth warrior. He’d never met a woman like her before; she intrigued him ⸺like a mystery that he wanted to spend a lifetime solving.
Obvious their age difference didn’t bother them. Ashanti was in her thirties, and she didn’t seem to mind that Bayo had twenty years on her.
His facial features, toned body, height, and rugged, handsome face made up for the age.
It was his reputation that drew Ashanti in the most. A Zulu warrior, strength, dignity, protector of his people, and other attributes she died to see and try.
“Awe you finished?” He asked as he got to his feet.
She didn’t know how to respond to his gentle tone and soft side.
He scooted her over with a slight shove and laid down next to her. For the first time, she relaxed and sunk into his arms. The feeling was better than any pain medicine they had given her.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Bayo kissed her forehead and pulled her in tighter until she drifted back to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The riots in Lark ceased thanks to Omari’s troops. They worked to rebuild Lark to its former glory. Things in the kingdom were reasonably back to normal, except for Kofi and his family.
Tensions continued to grow between him and his father-in-law. King Haji kept at Zola about her safety with encouragements to leave Kofi.
Naturally, everything said from the two were repeated. It was a distraction that kept the attention off her own plans.
Kofi noticed her strange behavior, but he never let it show that he was aware.
Neither one of them heard from King Omari. Kofi was told that Omari was still occupied with the Waewood attack, which satisfied him. Zola was careful not to inquire too much about his whereabouts.
Kofi was calmer than her about Omari’s unknown location. Zola was livid and thought he withdrew from their arrangement. She took matters in her own hands.
The plan would continue with or without him. Her only regret was that she didn’t handle it herself in the beginning.
Never leave a man to do a woman’s job.
To come together as a family, Kofi extended an olive branch in the form of a dinner invitation to Zola’s family.
The servants worked tirelessly to have things set up by the time the Hajis arrived. Kofi insisted that everyone dressed their best.
Zola was well along into her pregnancy, but she chose a comfortable and classy dress. Kofi was dressed and made sure everything was in place downstairs.
Zola walked around to inspect the servant’s work. She never said a word. Kofi knew it was to her liking; otherwise, she would’ve voiced her opinion.
⸞⸟⸞
Everyone arrived on time. King Haji brought with him his wife, Queen Asha; his second born Prince Zane, who would ascend to the throne. Next to him was Prince Kellan and his youngest, Princess Kali.
Kofi and Zola greeted them and passed them each a drink upon their entry.
King Haji didn’t bother to mingle for Kofi, only his family. He wanted to wait to see how the night progressed before he addressed Kofi.
He told his daughter it would take a lot more effort than a lavish dinner to restore a better opinion of him.
A servant announced to them that dinner was ready. They continued small talk among themselves as Kofi led them into the large overly decorated dining area.
Haji and his wife sat at the head of the table opposite of Kofi and Zola. Her siblings found seats around the sides of the table.
After everyone was settled, Kofi rose from his chair and tapped his fork to his glass.
“I can’t tell you ow onored I am to ave you with us,” he said as he took Zola’s hand.
“Lately we’ve been dealing with sev’al issues in oa’ kingdom, and I don’t wish to ave them in my family.”
Haji’s eyes roamed everywhere except to Kofi.
“Please waise yoa glasses.” Everyone mimicked Kofi. “To a fresh start.”
They raised their glasses higher. “To a fwesh stawt,” they said except Haji. They all sipped their wine.
The servants walked around and laid a plate of baked chicken with vegetables and rice in front of everyone.
Zola reached for the pepper seasoning next to Kofi’s plate. Upon returning it, she spilled his wine.
“I’m so’wy. This pwegnancy as made me such an accident maka’,” she said apologetically.
“I would ave gotten it fo’ you, all you need to do is ask,” Kofi told her.
“I’ll find something betta to clean this up,” she said.
“Let the sa’vants do that, we ave guests.”
He gave her a stern look, but it was to no avail, she continued her quest into the kitchen.
Everyone had to wait until she returned. It was customary for the King and Queen of the house to take the first bite. Kofi tried to dab the spilled wine with a napkin when something particular caught his eye.
He studied it closely. He had earlier mistaken it for an herb. As he stared at it, it was clear what it was and who put it there. Admittedly he was outraged, but he remained reserved.
“This wine is delicious,” Queen Asha told him.
“Thank you,” Kofi said with his eyes still set on his plate. He poked the chicken around with his fork.
“This chicken is watha small,” Prince Zane complained.
Kofi looked up at his bwotha-n-law.
“They awe, and as yoa ost, I’ll give you my plate since I was sa’ved a lawga’ portion,” Kofi insisted.
Prince Zane shook his head.
“No, that won’t be necessary. I was making an obsa’vation,” he replied.
Quickly Kofi switched the plates before he offered further objection.
“Thanks,” Zane said. Prince Zane wished he hadn’t spoken and didn’t want to make everyone uncomfortable.
“Not a pwoblem, my pleasa’.”
They sat quietly until Zola floated back into the room with thicker cloths to absorb the wine. Kofi smiled and helped her back into her chair. After they took the first bite, e
veryone else indulged in the feast.
⸞⸟⸞
They all seemed to enjoy themselves. Even King Haji had come around and partaken in conversation. He never could hold a grudge.
The servants took their plates and placed a slice of lemon cake in front. The only sound that was heard was silverware as it hit their dishes.
“I owe you an apology. Actually, to you both.”
Everyone looked up from their dessert.
“I was wwong for the things I said, and I ope you can fo’give me for that. I neva’ meant to insult anyone or intwude. I get overzealous about my family,” King Haji said.
Kofi raised his glass to him. “Wata’ unda’ the bwidge.”
“We’we appy to see that Lawk is wecov’ing,” Asha said.
Kofi dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Omari’s men offa’d a unique appwoagh with discipline.”
Zane let out a loud burp that drew everyone, the servants even stared at him.
“Please Zane, wha awe yoa mannas’?” King Haji asked.
“So’wy I think it’s gas,” Zane said.
Zola rolled her eyes and heaved a long sigh.
Prince Zane grabbed his stomach and winced in agony.
“Maybe not,” he choked out.
Everyone rushed to Zane’s side when he doubled over in his chair. Kofi sipped his drink and enjoyed his dessert.
Within a few minutes, he went into violent convulsions with foam at his mouth. Everyone ran around hysterical for help, but it was too late.
Zola by his side looked at her husband, and his expression told her what he had done.
Rage overtook her, her family was clueless and distraught. She forgot she was with child and launched on top of Kofi and they both fell to the floor.
She pounded him with her fist until the guards pulled her away. Her screams were loud; filled with pain and hate.
“You killed im! You killed im!” She screamed. Haji had positioned himself in attack mode.
“What is this?” Haji asked. He was angry and confused.
“Wwong, you killed im! You twied to poison me, but luckily I found it!”
“What is going on?” Asha asked her voice full of grief.
Zola broke away from the guards to attack Kofi again, but he was ready for her. He caught her by the throat. The guards had her family blocked. The harder he squeezed, the more tears filled his eyes.