He continued, “As for your name, denounce it. Take up the name of your Mother, a Mali. The one who loved you unconditionally, nurtured you, protected you, while your father played favorites with your sister. Nairobi Mali, has a nice ring to it. I want to put you on the throne, is that not what you want?” Nairobi stood motionless and silent. The room grew dead silent, you could almost hear the next man’s thoughts.
“And what if I refuse?” Nairobi asked calmly.
“Then I shall execute you here myself,” Assani laughed.
He continued, “You are still a criminal, you either fight for your freedom, or refuse or die. Choose wisely.”
“How can I fight if I am a criminal?”
“When the Ukulwa was introduced, there were no rules specifying if a criminal could enter or not. Because, most likely a criminal would not be considered by a clan to rule as Mansa.”
“I see, well I suppose I have no other choice but to fight.”
“Smart boy, you were always my favorite nephew. Now come give your uncle a hug, Nairobi Mali.” Assani got out of his throne and embraced Nairobi. He then gestured for his guards to leave.
As this conversation took place, Emre sensed something ominous upon the winds, “I do not like the feeling of this Bolaji.”
“Me neither, it reeks of six day old curry.”
Emre began, “Let us return home. I shall travel to Selah Palace and speak to the Man-” suddenly, Bolaji stabbed Emre in his back as he began walking.
“You will be going nowhere my friend,” Emre fell to the ground. Blood filled his mouth rendering his gasps for air futile.
With his last breath, Emre asked, “Wh-why?”
“The Nguvu had their time in the Palace. They took my sister and still wish to remain on the throne!? Their greed sickens me, it is time for retribution. It is time for the Mali to claim the throne.”
Emre faded into darkness. Bolaji and the soldiers proceeded to his house where Nairobi’s men remained. The soldiers busted into the home and attacked the unsuspecting men. They drove their spears through the men’s heads, hearts, and limbs. Blood splattered across the room as the impaled men laid motionless. Bolaji walked in after the ordeal was done and spat on one of the corpses. He poured himself another mug of beer and chugged half the cup.
He burped and then commanded, “Clean this garbage up. Make sure information about what took place today does not leaves the city. Get more men and spread the word.”
Chapter 9: Bonds
The land grew dark with stars shimmering across the sky. It was the eve of the Ukulwa, Lord Commander Rashid Nguvu and Mansa Hatim Nguvu III resided at Selah Palace. The men sat within the Mansa’s library deliberating over certain affairs. As the men conversed, a Hashish entered the room.
“Your Excellency, Lord Mateus is here and wishes to speak to you. Should I let him accompany your gathering?”
“Yes. Escort him to me immediately.”
“As you wish,” the Hashish exited the room.
“As I was saying brother, I have heard a few rumors about Aslam’s whereabouts,” Rashid uttered with a glass of spirit in hand.
“I see, I see. Go on,” the Mansa replied as he skimmed through a few scrolls.
“The reports originated from the South. Apparently, a man who resembles him was spotted there. The suspect wore a distressed grey robe and was missing his right forearm.”
“His forearm you say? I wished it was his head,” the men began to chuckle.
Rashid took a sip of his drink and replied, “You were always the funny one Hatim.”
Hatim took a sip of his spirit and added, “And you were always the stubborn one Rashid. You tried so hard to keep up with me and Aslam, you would not let anyone sway you.”
“I had to. It got me to be the head of our clan,” Rashid earnestly replied.
“But my jokes did not get me to sit in Selah Palace,” the Mansa replied as he laughed.
“No, it did not. Your strength is what got you here. You were the strongest of us all. Father noticed that, but Aslam hated that.”
“Yeah. He could not stand being the oldest brother and be outshone by me. His envy destroyed him. Destroyed us,” The Mansa replied glumly. He took another sip of his drink.
“Envy is a terrible sin. Envy and lust.”
Mansa Hatim slammed the table. He gritted and then replied, “I swear, I will make him pay. Pay tenfold for the anguish he has caused me!” The Mansa angrily proclaimed.
The door of his library suddenly opened. It was Lord Mateus Angola. He puffed his pipe and hobbled towards the men with his cane, “Good evening men. Mansa. Lord Commander,” he nodded.
Hatim rose from his chair, “Welcome, Lord Mateus. Please join us.”
Hatim drew a chair for the Lord and he joined them at the table. He gestured to pour him a glass of liquor as well and Mateus nodded in acceptance as he sat down. Hatim poured him a drink and handed it over. Lord Mateus took a sip of his brandy, his face quivered as it went down. Hatim and Rashid laughed at his facial expression.
Mateus began, “A man my age should not be drinking something this strong.”
Rashid smiled, “A man your age should not have so many young wives either!” Hatim laughed at the remark.
Mateus chuckled at the comment. Mansa Hatim settled down stated, “Now then, unto business.”
“Yes, yes indeed,” Mateus stated, then took a sip of his spirit.
Hatim began, “I have brought you two men here today to discuss the Mali clan. Lord Assani’s son, Chukwuku, is a menacing opponent. I shall need you two to both make certain he does not succeed.”
Lord Mateus pulled his pipe from his coat and lit it. He took a hit from his pipe, a sip from his drink and then replied, “Why do you need the Mali to falter?”
“If Lord Assani and his people ascend to power, there is no one to oppose him for exacting revenge on my clan.”
Mateus responded, “So, you intend on holding him and his people’s rage down? But for how long your Excellency? You can only cage an animal for so long before it gets restless.”
Rashid interjected, “True. But he has no real power. We can always import more goods through your ports to sustain the Empire if need be. But we cannot tolerate a potential violent up rise with his command over the Empire. As of now, he knows any form of retaliation will be met with the swift force of the three Great Clans.”
“So you wish to sustain order throughout the Empire by denying Lord Assani his peace?” Mateus replied as he resumed smoking his pipe.
Mansa Hatim answered, “Essentially, yes.”
Lord Mateus closed his eyes and sat perfectly still for a moment. It was as if he was asleep upright in the chair. He then opened his eyes and began, “I will agree to this proposition. On the grounds that I can increase trade with the South.”
Hatim, shaken by this request, replied, “Are you mad? They are our enemy. More trade equals more influx of wealth to the Sultans that reside there and more opportunities for them to familiarize themselves with our land. Possibly infiltrate it.”
Rashid added, “I agree. This is a reckless proposition Lord Mateus. Your greed could ruin the Empire.”
Mateus began, “Great wealth will also enter our Empire. Wealth to sustain the Japreet clan guarding our southern border, money that could help cultivate more land for agriculture for our ever growing population, money to better equip the Gibraltari Empire for war.”
Mateus continued, “I have already made plans on upgrading Crocodile Bay. I will section off a portion of the port specifically for Southern ships. All I will need is a few extra men and gold to properly secure it. A small investment for a large payout.”
The Mansa and Lord Commander gazed at one another as they pondered the request, “Do you have any of the schematics on you?” Hatim asked.
“I am glad you asked,” Lord Mateus stated as he pulled a scroll from his shirt sleeve.
Hatim examined it then replied, “Interesting. This is a ver
y effective design. There will be ‘Sea Wardens’?”
“Yes your Excellency. Sea Wardens will be soldiers in small ships that roam the Bay and supervise the incoming ships. Making sure to direct the ships where they need be and help defend the Bay.”
Rashid began, “That is a brilliant idea. I think this might be a great opportunity, brother.”
Hatim rubbed his chin, “If you think it is a good idea Rashid, I will take your word. Lord Mateus, I will grant you your request. I will send word to Selah Treasury to have gold transported to your Palace.”
“Thank you, your Excellency. I will instruct Yannick on the strategy.”
Lord Rashid added, “And I to Habib.”
“I assume he is training diligently,” Lord Mateus responded. He took a hit from his pipe but coughed, so he took a sip of the brandy to alleviate his throat.
“He was. He decided to rest the night before, he is currently here at Selah Palace conversing with the Princess.”
“Ahhh I see. What a luxury. Resting the night before the most important fight of his life. You Nguvu are definitely interesting.”
Lord Rashid began laughing awkwardly as he rubbed his head, “He will not learn anything new tonight that he has not learned the past few days. Makes more sense to be fully rested for tomorrow.”
“That makes sense. Well, I have not seen my boy since the Ukulwa was announced. He has been off training, only the Sun god knows where,” Lord Mateus muttered.
“I shall relay this message to him shortly, but first, some of my men told me that our shipments of obsidian has tapered off, is that true?” Lord Rashid asked.
Mateus hurriedly took his pipe from his mouth and stuttered, “Ehhh pesky pirates my lords. I have had my men deal with them. Do not worry, things shall be all in order shortly.”
Hatim joined, “That is good. Cannot let the other clans know of our arrangements. This obsidian puts us at a great advantage. Our obsidian blades will cut through the hardest of armor.”
As the men conversed in the Mansa’s library, down the hall in Nairomi’s room is where she and Habib resided. The room was dimly lit with a few candles, her window was slightly cracked to allow a cool breeze to flow. Nairomi sat on her bed in her white nightgown, still flabbergasted with the current situation of the Empire.
“So are you ready for tomorrow?” she asked.
Habib stood by her window and stared at the moon, “I am as ready as I'll ever be...”
“Why do you seem so glum? I understand that tomorrow might be your last light but I have never seen you in such distress.”
Nairomi continued, “You are strong. So strong. Second only to Nairobi in my opinion.”
Habib turned to face her as he replied, “And that is the thing. I am second! Nairobi should be in this fight! Not me.”
She leaned forward and raised both eyebrows, “So you think you shall lose?”
“It is not about whether I win or lose, it is about what is right. Since we were children, Nairobi longed for the throne. He bested me every time we spared, pushed himself in ways I could never imagine.”
Habib continued, “My Father, Lord Commander Rashid, nearly chose Nairobi over me to be his right hand man. My own father.”
Nairomi responded, “I did not know that. Nairobi never told me. What changed your father’s mind?”
“Nairobi. He turned down the offer. The only power he wished to have was absolute. Absolute power with a seat atop Selah Palace.”
Habib continued, “If only he would lighten up, hold back at times, and just relax, he would be fighting tomorrow and not me. I cannot believe they plan on executing him. He was younger than me but seemed as if he was my older brother.”
Nairomi began to bawl, her tears soaked her gown. Habib ran from the window to comfort her, “Nairomi, I-I am sorry.”
“It is okay. They have to give him a fair and just trial. I will make certain of that. I already lost one family member, I do not intend on losing another,” she wiped her tears.
Habib began, “What happened to us? We three used to have so much fun. Nairobi used to be so full of life. Now he is so angry all the time.”
He continued, “Do you remember that one morning when we were in Atlas Fields?”
“Atlas Fields? Oh yes I do! We have not been back in years! We were so small back then! I was probably no older than seven at the time!” Nairomi’s demeanor brightened.
“Yes! And I was about eight, which would put Nairobi around six. We used to chase those cows for hours!”
He continued, “I remembered how we would always outrun Nairobi, and he would get so frustrated! And then that time when he tripped and fell into a pile of cow shit was quite possibly the funniest thing I have seen in my life!” The two began to laugh.
Nairomi’s tears began to dry on her face, “Okay but let us not forget the time you climbed a cow and tried to ride it. I know you were trying to impress me. That is why it was so funny when you fell off and hit your head!” her laughter increased.
Habib began blushing, “No-no! I was just trying to show Nairobi how it was done that is all! I think he dared me to do it--yeah that is what really happened!” he replied in a frenzy.
“Is that so? You cannot lie to me. Remember when we were kids playing under that ackee tree? You swore you would never lie to me.”
“Come on! We were children! How do you even still remember that?” he stared into her eyes.
Nairomi blushed as she replied, “I always paid close attention to you Habib. When I was with you I felt more than just fun.”
Habib looked away as he also blushed once more, “Oh, I see. Well, I have always felt more than just joy being around you too Nairomi…”
He faced her and began, “Why would you not accept my hand in marriage?”
Nairomi’s expression fell, she remained quiet and then replied, “As you said, Nairobi longed for the throne more than anyone. I could not spite my brother and put another man in that seat. No matter how close he is with us.”
Habib sat quietly before he replied, “I understand. That is very noble of you. Your heart lies with your brother’s.”
He continued, “I wish my little sister was as sweet as you. I swear, she is a demon.”
Nairomi began to laugh then responded, “Little Razana is not that bad! I love her.”
“I do not understand why. She is evil! She once caught a black mamba and threatened to have it bite me!”
Nairomi was shocked, “Is that true! How could she…”
Habib excitedly replied, “See! I told you she was-”
Nairomi cut him off and continued, “How could she catch a black mamba. That is impressive. I must ask her next time I see her.”
“Nairomi! That was not the purpose of the story!” he barked.
She began to laugh as she replied, “You are still here. Lighten up Habib. She only teases you because she loves her big brother. Or else you would be dead already based on her apparent skills.”
“Ugh I suppose.”
“Anyways, I do not wish to keep you up all night. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow. I wish you the best of luck Habib.”
“Will you be attending the Ukulwa?”
“I really want to, but I cannot. I cannot stomach such violence. Additionally, on the slim chance you do not make it, I do not want to see what caused your demise. I would not be able to live with myself.”
Habib began to laugh then he took her hand and responded, “That is understandable. Well, believe me when I say I am not dying. I will return to you in one piece.”
The two sat quietly and gazed at one another. Habib began to slowly lean towards her, she did not halt nor sway from his advances. Their lips made contact. Habib grabbed the Princess and drew her close to him as he kissed her. Her soft, moist lips triggered a force in him he had not felt before. They held each other with such vigor as their lips locked. Nairomi then pushed him off of her, the startled Habib began wondering what the matter was.
&
nbsp; “Oh! My apologies! I am sorry if I was too forward,” he bowed his head in remorse.
She ignored his statement, then laid in her bed, bit her lips, and gestured to Habib. He quickly removed his garments, throwing his sword down so quickly that the sound could nearly be heard from the Hatim’s library. Habib then climbed on top of her. As he began, the white bed linen gained red spots with each subsequent stroke. Nairomi tried her best to conceal her wails and moans. Habib, realizing her pain, slowed his pace.
Chapter 10: The Rains
After entering the Gibraltari Empire at Crocodile Bay in the Angola clan’s region, Haroun, Ymir and Ojo have made it to Gibralta. The men were in search of a fellow Creed member, Ida Yetim. The Creed’s only lead was Nairobi, and they intended on finding him in the Empire’s capital.
“Hey Haroun, there is a lot of excitement in the air. I wonder what’s going on,” Ojo stated as he fed Mojo some tree nuts.
“Yes indeed, the people here are very cheerful,” Haroun replied with a stern look.
Ymir began, “Should I find a vantage point and find out what’s going on?”
Haroun replied, “Yes. Ojo, you and Mojo find a vantage point as well.”
“Got it chief,” Ojo uttered. They then departed.
Suddenly a child bumped into him, “Hey, you ought to be careful little one. You could really hurt yourself.” Haroun stated with an innocent smile as he helped the child back to his feet.
“Sorry sir, I am just in a rush to get to the Palace. The Ukulwa is today!” the boy replied enthusiastically.
“Ukulwa? What is that?”
“It’s a battle between the Princes to see who will become the new Mansa! I am rooting for Yannick Angola. He's my idol! The way he fights is so cool!”
“I see. Can you lead me to the Palace? I too would love to see this event.”
The child nodded his head and ran off towards the Palace, with Haroun in close pursuit. They soon arrived to Selah Palace. Behind the Palace sat the Royal Field where important events took place. It was fully equipped with stands which had canopies to shield the spectators from the sun’s harsh rays. Haroun took a seat in the bleachers along with the child and watched the event commence. He noticed there were three tents on the field, one with a gorilla, one with a crocodile, and one with a Black sun. He looked towards the Palace and saw that four men stood at a balcony overlooking the field. The host began to speak.
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