“One of these days I will take Selah Palace, even by force if I must! I will conquer everything and rejoin the Empire. He will have no choice but to recognize me!”
Nairobi signaled a guard to retrieve his steed from the stable. Once the guard returned, he mounted the horse and rode off. He rushed passed Emre and the rest of the company and exited the Royal Garden. Emre signaled for his horse as well in response to Nairobi’s action. As he mounted his steed, he looked over towards Nairomi.
“Do not worry Princess, I will take good care of your brother.” She nodded as she began to cry. Emre then charged out the gates behind Nairobi, followed by the rest of his men.
Nairomi fell to her knees, ruining her beautiful, white silken dress, as she broke down in tears. The guards in the Royal Garden ran to her, babied her, and then proceeded to carry her back up the steps of the Palace. Upon reaching the front doors of the Palace, the Hashish took the princess from the guards and brought her inside. She jumped from their arms and raced down the main lobby. The lobby of the Palace was vast, with pillars spanning its sides and a long, lavender carpet down the middle. She opened the door at the end of the carpet and climbed up a curled staircase to her right. When she reached the summit of the steps, there was a door in front of her, she opened it ferociously. The room was a large, circular library. It had books circumventing the walls on multilayered bookshelves. The room seemed to be three stories high, with multiple ladders to aid in reaching certain books. In the center of the room was her father at a table with a few of his scholars, diligently deciphering the manuscripts. She stormed over to them.
“Father! Why are you so cruel!” she screamed while tears flowed down her eyes. The men at the table stood up and looked at the Princess, bowing their heads, but the Mansa stayed seated with his head in the pages.
“I know you hear me talking to you, why do you treat Nairobi so!?” she yelled even louder with fire behind her voice. The Mansa stood up and gazed at her.
“Who do you think you are talking to?” the Mansa stated softly, but the aura that came with the statement was so powerful that his fellow scholars at the table were frightened. Nairomi was unbothered however.
“I am talking to you! I am sick of you treating Nairobi so bad! He brought you all these scrolls and your stubborn head could not even muster up so much as a ‘Good Job’! What is the matter with you!?”
“I get it, you must have lost some sense being outside in the sun for too long, you have not been outside since your brother left.”
“No! I am upset because you are ungrateful and disrespectful! And you caused Nairobi to run off again! I cannot stand you sometimes!”
“Hmm maybe this time he will not return…” he muffled under his breath as he returned to the manuscripts. The other scholars joined the Mansa in sitting so they could finish their work.
“So you are just going to ignore me then? Fine, have it your way!” she turned around and exited the room, slamming the doors so hard a few books fell from the shelves.
Nairomi stormed down the hallway, she was beside herself in anger. She pondered why their father was so stubborn and hostile towards Nairobi. She could not recall a moment ever in their childhood which warranted such long term resentment towards him. She soon got to the end of the hall, there was a door to the right; it was her chambers. As she opened the door, three maidens rushed to her.
“Princess! Princess! Are you okay?” they uniformly asked.
“We could hear your argument with the Mansa from here, is everything fine?” a young woman of dark complexion and braided hair asked.
“Yes, yes I am fine ladies. Thank you for your concerns,” Nairomi replied as she wiped the tears from her face.
“Okay Lady Nairomi, let us resume your studies then. You must know the ins and outs of every inch of the Empire if you are to be a successful ruler.”
Nairomi replied glumly, “I do not feel like studying right now, I will study later. I am tired. Now can you all please excuse me so I can get some rest?”
“As you wish my lady, we will return at first light,” they uniformly stated as they exited the room.
While Nairomi slept off her frustration, Nairobi chose to aggressively release his. He, Emre and the rest of their men left Gibralta immediately after the argument and rode for Elba, a city to the east of Gibralta within the Mali clan district.
“Young Lord, what do you plan on doing now?” Emre asked as they galloped on their horses.
“I intend to live at my Mother’s old house in Elba. The Palace is currently no home of mine.”
“Oh, the late Empress Ijemma. Her homeland is within the Mali clan territory if I’m remembering correctly. Who resides at the home now?” Emre asked.
“One of her brothers, but there is enough space for us all if need be. I have had men upgrade the residence over the years.”
“Ahhh impressive. You planned on moving there for quite some time?”
“No, not necessarily. It was a token of my gratitude to Mother’s family. But now I head there for a proposition.”
Emre became intrigued, “A proposition? To whom, might I ask?”
“All will be revealed soon Emre.”
“Do you need me to send for your belongings back at the Palace?” Emre inquired.
“No, I do not require anything from that Palace. I plan on returning eventually so I would like my belongings to remain as they are.”
They soon were riding through the woodlands, the large vibrant green trees gave them periodic shade from the sun’s rays as they rode. The grass rustled from the hooves of the horses. There was a group of gazelles running alongside the men for a period of time before they stopped to graze in denser grass. After several hours, the sun began to set so the men stopped at a small village to rest. The village had mud huts for homes with enormous banana leaves for roofing. Most of the villagers wore loincloth, but some wore nothing at all.
“Welcome Prince! What brings you to our humble abode?” the Chieftain asked as the locals gathered to meet Nairobi. He was an elderly dark man, short and frail with gray hair.
“Just passing through, I am on my way to Elba.”
“Well, please-please come join us for dinner. We will prepare sleeping quarters for you and your men,” the Chief stated before Nairobi need ask him for food and beds.
“Thank you, Thank you. What is your name?” Nairobi asked the Chief.
“Obafemi, my lord. Chief Obafemi.” He stated with a bow.
“Nice to meet you Chief Obafemi. Uhhh, where do you all bathe? My men and I have not bathed in ages,” Nairobi asked.
Chief Obafemi pointed to a river alongside the village, “we bathe over there your highness. Please, help yourself as we fetch you garments to wear as we wash your clothes and prepare for the feast.”
The people of the village escorted Nairobi and his men to the river. While they walked through the center of the village, Nairobi and Emre noticed a decapitated lion’s head decomposing on a stake. They soon arrived at the river and proceeded to undress and bathe. The villagers provided them with temporary garments to wear while they hurried to wash theirs, leaving their weapons behind.
“These people are so kind,” Emre said to Nairobi.
“It is just because I am the Prince. This is not genuine. They just want to be in my good graces. They will probably ask for something before I leave,” Nairobi replied unapologetically.
“Have faith Young Lord, not everyone is after your wealth.”
Nairobi, becoming annoyed, stared at Emre and remained silent. Changing the subject, Nairobi began, “I wonder what that lion’s head is doing in the village.”
“Maybe someone killed it?” Emre replied.
“These people? Slay a lion!? Do not make me laugh Emre. They probably found a dead lion, killed by another lion or something, and placed its head in the village to scare intruders off.”
“Believe what you may, but I have seen many things in my days, Young Lord. A man killing a lion
is not unheard-of.”
Nairobi scoffed and exited the river. He grabbed a rag to dry himself off then placed the garments on; it was loincloth with a sash across his chest. Emre followed behind him along with the rest of the men. They all got dressed and headed back to the center of the village where a large bonfire seemed to lighten up the night sky. The men heard crickets chirping as they reached the bonfire to accompany the villagers. They were given bowls of hot soup, consisting of carrots, yams, chevon, and other various seasonings.
“This is delicious!” proclaimed a few of Nairobi’s men.
“Yes, yes it is indeed,” Emre stated in agreeance.
“Thank you, thank you! You all are so kind,” said Chief Obafemi thanking the men.
Obafemi noticed Nairobi remained silent and asked, “how about you your highness, how is the food?”
“It is good. The goat is tender,” Nairobi replied while looking at the bowl. Chief Obafemi smiled and resumed eating.
“Where did that lion’s head come from?” Nairobi pointed towards the object.
“Oh, that? One of our men killed it. It is a rite of passage for our boys to become men. Then they sever the head and place it in the town square for a few days to boast and find a wife.”
Nairobi, being perplexed, asked, “So all these men among me killed a lion?”
“Not all, but yes, a few of them have. Those who do not are unable to marry and begin a family. To ensure only the strong survive.”
Nairobi laughed at this answer, “Is this some joke? You really expect me to believe a single one of these men could take on a lion one-on-one and walk away with its head? Do you think that I am a fool!?”
One of the men from the tribe stood up from the circle and stared menacingly at Nairobi. He was a slender man of dark complexion, numerous scars upon his body, and enough hair on his head for the entire village to go around. His eyes pierced through Nairobi’s being as he gander.
“Chief why did you let these ingrates into our humbled village, disrespect our tradition and eat our food knowing we barely have enough left to even feed ourselves,” the man who stood up inquired.
“Please, Kwame, sit. The Prince knows not what he speaks. You do not punish an infant for being an infant,” the Chief replied.
“An infant!? You dare mock me old man?” Nairobi replied as he stood up.
Kwame walked out of the crowd and approached Nairobi, “I do not care who you are, you will show respect to our tradition!”
Nairobi stood up and walked towards Kwame, “Tradition? You all tell me lies! Half these men do not look like they can even hold a sword let alone kill a lion.”
“You people only see with your eyes and that is your problem. Tell me Prince, have you ever truly starved? Gone weeks without as much as a grain of rice? Have you ever been truly scared? Seen your brother get ripped to pieces by a pack of Hyenas or heads crushed by a Hippopotamus? Sure, you know how to swing your fancy weapons around but do you truly know how to ‘survive’?” Kwame asked the Prince.
The crowds grew silent, one could hear loudly the wood cracking and breaking due to the heat of the fire. It was so quiet that the rustling of the grass and leaves in the background sounded like animals roaring. Emre ignored them and continued to sip his soup. The other men of the company, along with the villagers, placed their bowls down to witness the scene.
“Your name is Kwame I presume. Well, Kwame, please show me how to ‘survive’,” Nairobi gestured for one of his men to fetch him his sword. “If you are as skilled as you all say you are then surely I should not be that much of a challenge.” he continued.
“There is more to ‘surviving’ than swordplay but very well, I will teach you some manners,” Kwame replied. He signaled and someone from the crowd threw him a wooden staff.
“You dare accept my challenge with a wooden staff? You insult me,” Nairobi began cynically.
Kwame answered stone faced, “I assure you your highness, this will be more than enough.”
The circle around the bonfire widened to give the two men sufficient space to settle their qualm. The men sized each other up as they circumvented the circle. Then Kwame charged at the Prince, he swept his staff at Nairobi’s feet but Nairobi leaped over it. He then blocked a follow up strike at his head with his blade. Nairobi countered with rapid strikes of his saif, the sword’s thin blade made it effortless to swing. Kwame deflected each swipe by hitting the side of the sword with the staff to avoid Nairobi cutting the staff in two. The spectators of the bout were amazed by Nairobi’s speed but even more impressed by Kwame’s ability to block them with a staff. Sensing that his attacks were useless, Nairobi then swung low for Kwame’s abdomen. Kwame had no choice but to attempt to block the strike with the staff head on. Nairobi’s blade split the staff cleanly in two, but the staff slowed the strike down enough for Kwame to shift his abdomen so he was only grazed by the blade instead of disemboweled. Blood started dripping down the left side of Kwame’s abdomen as he spun the two halves of his staff in each hand.
“You almost got me. You are not all bark I see,” Kwame stated with a smile.
Nairobi smirked, “Do not flatter yourself, I am just getting warmed up.”
Nairobi sensed he had the upper hand and rushed Kwame. He swung at Kwame’s body once more, but this time Kwame struck Nairobi’s hand as his blade was about to connect with his body. Nairobi’s sword went tumbling to the ground, then Kwame swung at Nairobi’s head. Nairobi ducked and weaved avoiding Kwame’s attacks. He then slid through Kwame’s legs to grab his sword which was laying on the ground behind Kwame. He leaped up and charged back at Kwame. Nairobi swung the blade directly down to Kwame’s face, but Kwame crossed both halves of his staff and caught the blade between the two pieces of wood. He then kicked Nairobi in his left leg, causing him to stumble. Kwame, still having Nairobi’s blade secured, followed up his initial leg kick with a kick to Nairobi’s chest sending him flying. Nairobi jumped back unto his feet and dusted himself off.
“You are better than I thought you were, I will give you that,” Nairobi stated with a smug look upon his face.
“You too, I see your reputation is not just rumors.”
“Well then, allow me to further extend my reputation to you,” Nairobi charged back at Kwame.
Nairobi swung for Kwame’s abdomen, and like before, Kwame attempted to strike Nairobi’s hand to disposes him, but this time Nairobi caught the wood with his off hand. Just before Nairobi’s blade could connect with Kwame, he blocked the strike with the other half of the staff. Nairobi’s blades sliced through the wood and caught Kwame in the same region as before. More blood started flowing down his body, soaking his loincloth in blood.
“Are you sure you want to continue? You put up an admirable fight. No shame stopping now and living to fight another day,” Nairobi asked.
“My people do not back down when our backs are against the walls. We push through and find a way. That is the difference between you and me.”
Kwame charged at Nairobi, with the blood gushing out of his body and one half of his staff remaining. Nairobi braced himself and prepared for any of Kwame’s strikes. Suddenly, Kwame pulled his blood soaked loincloth off and threw it at Nairobi’s face. The blood soaked cloth flew through the air and caught Nairobi in his face before he could properly react. Kwame then leaped on Nairobi and held him down on the ground, placing the last half on his staff upon Nairobi’s neck to choke him. Kwame had his left knee over Nairobi’s right arm, preventing him from following up with an attack. The battle was over. Kwame arose from Nairobi, with his genitalia swinging uncomfortably close to Nairobi’s face.
“That is how you ‘survive’,” Kwame stated arrogantly.
Nairobi rolled over and rose to his feet sheepishly, upset from his defeat but more upset about witnessing Kwame’s dangling genitals up close, “You bested me. You won.”
“Never judge someone by their looks Prince, you have to see with more than just your eyes. Fight with more than j
ust what you perceive. You are very skilled, but until you can ‘see’ you will never ascend any further.”
“See what?” Nairobi asked.
“I cannot tell you, I can only show you.”
“Well…you will not be showing anyone anything anytime soon. Men!” Nairobi yelled.
A few of Nairobi’s men grabbed the weakened Kwame and forced him to his knees. The villagers stood idly by and watched. They restrained Kwame unto his knees and propped his arms up behind his back, rendering him immobile.
“For that disgusting stunt you used to win, I have to take your head. It is not personal,” Nairobi declared as he wiped his sword with his loincloth.
Nairobi then approached Kwame, as they bent him forth he screamed. With a swift swing of his blade, Kwame’s head began rolling on the ground. Blood began spewing from his dismembered head and neck. The villagers could hear Kwame’s head thud as it hit the ground. The villagers started screaming in horror as they let Kwame’s lifeless body flop. Another man leaped out the crowd of villagers and charged Nairobi.
“Huh what is this? You forfeit your life too easily,” Nairobi stated to the man as he charged him.
A few of Nairobi’s men pulled their swords and charged back at the man. The man had a spear and impaled one of Nairobi’s guards, then using the hilt of the spear, he vaulted over the other soldier towards Nairobi. The man threw a punch, but Nairobi sidestepped and countered by relieving the man of the arm he attacked with. He dropped to the ground holding his arm in pain and wailed. While he gripped his wrist, blood trickled unto the dirt. He fell to his knees and writhed in agony.
“Anyone else dare attack me!” Nairobi yelled. The villagers stood there in fear.
Pharaoh of Fire Page 4