Pharaoh of Fire

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Pharaoh of Fire Page 9

by Chadwick Duncan


  Ida leaped out the cage and flew by Irabor, charging relentlessly at Didi; Irabor followed in pursuit. The four remaining men Didi had left charged to protect him. The first man swung his sword at Ida, but she weaved to her left and slit his throat. The blood caught her on her face as she zipped passed him. The second man attempted to stab Ida with his saif, she weaved to her right and slit his throat as well. More blood caught her on her face as she continued running. The third man swung his axe, she leaped over the blade as if she was thrown in the air. As she flew over, the third man watched her movements instead of paying attention to Irabor whom was following closely behind her. Irabor punched the man with all his might, nearly dislocating his wrist with the force his blow delivered. Irabor heard the man’s skull crack as he plummeted to the ground.

  Ida proceeded to the fourth man, whom by now had turned around and began running along with Didi. The men attempted to flee on foot but Ida was too fast. She quickly caught up to the fourth man and stabbed him in the base of his skull, the blade stuck from his mouth. She retracted the knife and resumed her chase, now, it was only Didi who remained. As Ida sprinted to catch him, he whistled for his horse. Didi was able to mount his horse and ride off before Ida could intercept him. Ida threw her knife in frustration, hoping it would hit him, but it was unable to cover the distance.

  “Ughhh!” Ida screamed to the heavens. Irabor finally caught up to her.

  “Dammit! I wanted to rip his legs off. I can’t stop hearing Tayo’s screams!” Irabor shouted.

  Ida’s eyes widened, “Tayo!?” she turned around and sprinted to his motionless body.

  “Tayo! Tayo!” she screamed as she rocked his body back and forth. The blood was dried on his mouth and his eyes were still. She got no response.

  “Tayo please say something! Your sister misses you! Your family misses you! I miss you! Don’t you dare die on me! You can’t…I won’t let you do this to her! I promised I would return you!” she screamed. Still no response.

  Irabor walked over to her as she shook his bruised corpse, “Never make promises you cannot keep,” he stated monotonously. Ida began to cry over his battered body.

  “Come on Ida. No need crying over it now. We must continue to move before some more bandits ambush us,” Irabor proclaimed.

  “I will kill them all!” Ida screamed as she wept.

  Irabor placed his arms on her hips and attempted to pry Ida from Tayo’s lifeless body. She gripped Tayo intensely, raising his body as Irabor lifted her from the ground. Ida cried as she finally let go of Tayo. Irabor flung her over his shoulder, and began to walk off with her.

  “Let me go! Let me go Sapphire Eyes!” Ida screamed as she kicked and punched Irabor. He could feel her pain and nearly shed a tear, but kept his composure.

  “We must find out where they came from, then we shall hunt him down,” Irabor stated.

  As Irabor carried Ida, they saw one of their attackers squirming on the ground. Irabor proceeded towards him; Ida finally began to settle down. Irabor gently placed Ida on the ground and picked up the man by his collar.

  “Where did you guys come from!?” Irabor shouted, the man mumbled.

  “Do not make me ask you a third time. Where are you from?” he added.

  “We…we…we came from Yama. To…to the east,” he uttered with the last of his breath.

  “Thank you,” Irabor stated as he dropped the man. He proceeded to stomp on his head, it crunched under Irabor’s large foot.

  “I know where we are heading next,” he told Ida.

  “Where?” she replied glumly.

  “Yama, a nation to the east of here. I guess that is where these men came from.”

  Ida stated as she jumped to her feet, “What the hell are we waiting on then!? Let’s grab one of these horses and go! I’m killing that son-of-a-bitch myself! I will look him in his eyes as his soul leaves his body.”

  “What about the other slaves?” Irabor asked.

  Ida stopped in her tracks; she became frozen. There was a gleam of light to her right, she turned her head and saw a short sword. She lethargically advanced to the weapon. She slowly bent over and picked it up. She stared at the blade for a moment then headed to the cage. When she entered the cage, she noticed that the slaves were still in the back of the cage, petrified with fright. She disregarded the fear on their faces and approached them. One by one, she cut the ropes off the slaves.

  “There you go. You’re free. Go wherever the hell you want,” she stated as she threw the sword to the ground. The slaves thanked her and bolted out into their various directions.

  “Ida, wipe that blood off your face. You actually look intimidating.” Irabor stated as he threw her a cloth ripped off the garments of one of the men they killed.

  As she wiped her face she replied, “You should tend to that wound on your left arm if you intend on keeping it,” Irabor grunted a response.

  Ida continued, “You know, you don’t have to come with me to Yama. I will kill Didi myself.”

  “This isn’t for you. This is for me. I cannot live with myself knowing I witnessed that and that man could just go home to whichever shithole he climbed out of,” Irabor replied.

  “Very well then. Try and not slow me down,” she retorted. She smirked, flipped her dreads and walked towards a horse.

  “Wait, where did you learn all of that? You took those men out with such ease,” he asked. Ida halted her walk.

  She slowly turned to face Irabor, “listen here, I am not just a pretty face. That’s as much as you need to know now come on! That man needs to die!”

  Chapter 8: Eclipse

  After Nairobi terrorized Chief Obafemi’s people and had slain his son, they rode off to Elba. Within a few days, they arrived at their destination with the cover of darkness. They rode towards where the Late Empress Ijemma grew up along with her older brother, Assani Mali, and her younger brother, Bolaji Mali. Bolaji remained in the family home years after Assani and Ijemma matured and left.

  “Bolaji! Bolaji!” Nairobi screamed as he banged on the door. He awaited a response.

  Suddenly, a man responded, “who-who is it?” the voice quivered.

  “It is Nairobi. Can you open up I need to talk to you,” the door then abruptly swung open.

  “Nairobi!? I haven’t seen you in years! Come here boy! Give your uncle a hug!” Bolaji exclaimed. He grabbed Nairobi by his shirt and pulled him in for a hug.

  “Uncle Bolaji, it has been too long,” he mumbled into Bolaji’s chest as he pressed him against his big body. Bolaji’s breath reeked of beer, and body of sweat.

  Nairobi continued sarcastically, “It seems you have been doing well.”

  “Spare me boy. Now come in, come in!” Bolaji replied.

  Nairobi, Emre and the eight other men he had remaining entered the house. They noticed old banana peels, moldy yams, and beer mugs littered the tables. Nairobi covered his face from the odor. Emre coughed then proceeded to cover his face as well. The other guards also suffered from the stench.

  “It seems you should have hired a maid as well,” Emre remarked.

  Nairobi scoffed, “Indeed.”

  Bolaji began, “Sorry for the mess. If I knew you were coming I would have tidied up a bit.”

  He continued, “You brought a lot of men with you. Please, make yourselves at home. What brings you all here, nephew?”

  “I had to leave the Palace. I did not feel at home there,” Nairobi replied.

  “Really? Your father is still giving you a hard time huh?” Bolaji replied as he filled a mug of beer.

  “I just do not understand what is wrong with him. I understand he loved my mother, but should he not too love his son! Nairomi and I are all that are left of her now.”

  Emre chimed in, “It’s alright Young Lord. He is tough on you because he wants you to be a man. He will not baby you. Remember, his childhood was very different from your own.”

  “I have heard that a hundred times before, Emre! The Nguvu are the bloo
d and sword of the Empire. We train, eat, and repeat. So what!? Habib is treated much better by uncle Rashid!”

  Emre replied, “But who is the Mansa?” Nairobi fell silent.

  Bolaji began, “Cheer up boy. Have some beer and ease yourself.”

  Nairobi replied, “I might have a cup, but you need to put yours down. Seems like you have had enough for three men’s lifetime.”

  Bolaji laughed as he replied, “You’re probably right! Can’t remember the last time I’ve been sober.”

  Nairobi sincerely stated, “I’m sorry about your sister. I know she meant everyth-”

  “Ahhh quiet down. I have gotten over that years ago,” Bolaji replied glumly.

  He continued, “My sister was loved by everyone and she returned that love. I am sure it pains you the most. You were practically her left leg when you were growing up,” Nairobi looked down to his feet and remained silent.

  Bolaji continued, “In life, things just happen, and you can’t really plan for it all. You just have to pick yourself up and keep going. No one would have known giving birth to you would cause her body such harm. It’s a miracle she survived as long as she did. She wanted to make sure you could grow and be strong. She wanted to be there for you as long as she could, your Mother’s drive was unmatched,” Bolaji began to knock back the mug of beer.

  “Oh, before I forget why I am here; I need a private audience with your brother, Lord Assani Mali. Do you think you could arrange this?” Nairobi asked.

  “I haven’t really spoken to Assani in a while. He is so angry these days. He always complains about the Mansa killing our sister. I don’t think you would want to chat with him.”

  “Please! It is imperative I speak to him. I need his support.”

  “Support? Support for what?”

  “I plan on taking the throne myself. By force,” Nairobi stated with his clenched fists.

  “You don’t intend on a coup do you!?”

  “Not if it can be avoided. I just need enough Lords to side with my right to claim the throne and vote to remove him. I chose to start with uncle Assani since he is family.”

  “Ahhh I see. Well from the looks of it that might be possible. Assani does detest your father, maybe you can ascend to the seat and take another Mali with you. Replacing us in a powerful position.”

  “So that is a yes then!?”

  “I shall see what I can do. In the meantime, you and your men shall continue to make yourselves at home. The bedrooms are up the stairs to your left. You can have my room Nairobi, it is at the end of the hall,” Bolaji stated as he directed them.

  Nairobi, perplexed, replied, “Where shall you sleep?”

  “I haven’t slept in that bed in years. I feel the living area is more convenient. Right next to all my booze.”

  Nairobi and the men proceeded up the staircase. The steps creaked as if they never felt feet before. A few men entered a bedroom to the left while Emre and a few more entered the room to the right. Nairobi continued to the end of the hall and opened the door. He was immediately hit with stale air and dust.

  “I guess uncle Bolaji was not lying when he said he hasn’t slept up here in ages, it feels like a tomb in here.”

  Nairobi began to open the windows to allow fresh air to permeate the room and he began dusting. He ran back to the kitchen to grab a broom to sweep up the settled dust and dirt. He threw the filth out the window once he was done sweeping. Finally, it was tidy enough for him to lay his head down. He laid down and instantly fell asleep, completely exhausted from his journey. The morning came and Nairobi was eager to hear Bolaji’s decision.

  “Uncle Bolaji! Uncle Bolaji!” Nairobi yelled as he hurried down the corridor to the living area.

  “Quiet down Nairobi! People are trying to sleep!” Emre yelled as he peered out of his room door half asleep. His voice raspy and muffled by his beard. Nairobi got to the living area, but not to his surprise, he saw Bolaji asleep face first on the ground.

  “Get up you! All this drinking is not good for you!” Nairobi proclaimed as he tried to shake life into Bolaji. Abruptly, he awoke.

  Nairobi continued, “How are you feeling?”

  Bolaji let out a roaring belch before he replied, “Never…felt…better…ugh!” his words interrupted by his struggle for air.

  “Pull yourself together. It is time for us to go out and find Uncle Assani.”

  Bolaji then gathered himself. He attempted to clean up the mess of half eaten fish and beer bottles that laid by his side from last night. Nairobi, Emre, and Bolaji got dressed and advanced to Jua Nyeusi, the head home of the Mali clan.

  Emre began, “It’s been quite some time since I have walked the streets of Elba.”

  There were a multitude of homes, a few consisted of wood while many others consisted of dirt and clay. The streets were littered with villagers tending to their everyday responsibilities. Men carried freshly skinned goat on their backs, women carried woven buckets of yams and plantains on their heads, and children were playing amongst themselves with long sticks. Chickens ran across the dirt streets as dogs chased them. After a few minutes of walking, the three men could see Jua. It was a large home, constructed of wood and slender stone pillars. However, as the men continued to the house, they heard someone shout.

  “Stop! You!” the men swiveled their heads and saw a soldier staring and pointing his spear at them. Emre responded.

  “Excuse me sir, do we have a problem?”

  The soldier shouted as he looked at Nairobi, “You are Nairobi Nguvu! You are wanted across the Empire. Come with me!” A few more soldiers began to enter the vicinity.

  “I am the son of the Mansa. Be careful where you point that spear or that will be the last time you hold anything.”

  “It is under the Mansa’s orders that you are to be apprehended,” Nairobi realized the situation then reached for his blade, but Emre intercepted his hand and spoke sternly.

  “Do not do that Young Lord.”

  Emre continued, “What are the grounds for this arrest?”

  A soldier replied, “The murder of Kwame Mutu. Heir to the Mutu tribe.”

  Nairobi’s eyes widened and his hostile demeanor was lifted, “Fine then! I shall explain my case to Father. Hurry and take me to him before I change my mind.”

  “You will not be going to the Mansa, first you must come with us to Lord Assani.”

  Bolaji began, “Perfect! I shall speak to my brother and clear things up.”

  “Only Nairobi will enter Jua Nyeusi, you two will stay here!” the soldier barked.

  “What is the meaning of this!?” Bolaji exclaimed.

  The soldiers secured Nairobi and walled him off from Bolaji and Emre. They took Nairobi into Jua and stood guard so no one else could enter. They escorted Nairobi through the front door into the main lobby. There was a large wooden door in front of them which they also entered through. The men were brought into a large circular room in which Lord Assani was seated. He was accompanied by three other men in which he was conversing with.

  “What is the meaning of this!?” Assani shouted.

  He continued as his face lit up, “Nairobi…? Men, excuse me I need to tend to business,” the men Lord Assani conversed with left the room. The soldiers stepped forth and presented Nairobi.

  “Ahhh Nairobi! It has been quite some time since I have seen you boy!”

  He continued, “I can see you have become the talk of the lands recently. Tell me, how did your expedition go?”

  “What is the meaning of this, uncle!?” Nairobi yelled.

  “Now is that any way to talk to the man who plans on saving your life?”

  “Save my life? What do you mean? Why am I here!?”

  “One at a time boy, all will be revealed,” Assani replied with a sinister smug.

  “Okay, so why am I here?”

  “You are here because I need you to fight for me.”

  Perplexed, Nairobi began, “Fight for you? In what?”

  “The Ukulwa
.”

  “Ukulwa! The Ukulwa, what is that?” his face became confused.

  Assani slapped his face with the palm of his hand, “Not you too…It is a fight between the heirs of each Great Clan. To winner goes the title of Mansa.”

  Nairobi scratched his chin, “Sounds interesting. Why was such a thing brought forward?”

  “It was agreed upon during a recent Gbara that we shall host one since Nairomi refuses to take a husband and your father refuses to give you the throne.”

  “I cannot fight for you. I am an Nguvu! I shall fight for my people and take that throne myself!”

  “Sorry, you cannot. Habib will be fighting for the Nguvu.”

  Nairobi’s mouth dropped, “They will pass me over and select Habib!? I am a way better swordsman!”

  “Indeed you are! But they fail to realize that so I shall allow you to redeem yourself. Instead of giving you to the Mansa and be executed for the murder of Kwame, you can fight for me.”

  “I cannot fight for you, I am an Nguvu. And what about your son, Chukwuku?”

  Assani smiled and rubbed his chin, “My boy is a strong lad, possibly the strongest out of all of you men. But I am no fool. The other two Lord’s will most assuredly target him first. So I will need a wild card.”

 

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