Men of Valor, Books 1

by Kiru Taye

  Gently he moved his hand, caressing her face. She turned her face into his hand and moaned softly in her sleep. His stare left her face and roamed the rest of her body. Her night cloth was loose, exposing one fleshy breast. He could see its brown nipple, stiff and pointing toward him. Sliding his hand down her neck, he left it hovering above her skin as he yearned to touch her breast.

  Berating himself, he pulled the sheet up, covering her properly. He’d never taken to fondling his wife in her sleep, and he wouldn’t start now. When he finally took her, she would be wide-awake and screaming out for him to possess her.

  He marched over to the large, wooden trunk, which stored his belongings, opened it, and took out a roll of fabric. He also took out a bag of cowries and placed them on top of the fabric, laying them on the pallet beside his sleeping wife.

  Walking to the door, then he opened it.

  “My husband, are you leaving already?”

  He turned around and his heart caught in his throat. She looked even more beautiful when she was awake, her eyes, with a befuddled look, still filled with the last fog of dreamland.

  “Yes, in preparation for the festival, I have to supervise the completion of the tasks to store the harvested crops. Ezemmuo has already set a date, and we have to meet it.”

  Ezemmuo was the clan chief priest. Without his approval or performance of the required rituals, the new yams couldn’t be eaten by the clan.

  “Let me get you something to eat first.” She started to get up, but he raised his hand.

  “Don’t worry. Go back to sleep. I will eat later. I have left you what you requested on the bed. It should be enough to purchase what you need.”

  He turned and walked out. If he stayed longer, he would be climbing into her bed.

  ***

  The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the busy village square. A slight breeze was in the air. Still, the day hadn’t cooled sufficiently for those seeking shelter to depart from the shades of the palm fronds, used as makeshift canopies, or the low-hanging branches of the trees.

  It was a day of festivities; a day to thank Ala, the earth goddess, for the bountiful harvest and prosperity of the people of Umunri.

  Adaku sat among the women folk who chatted about one thing or the other. However, she couldn’t stop her gaze from straying. It settled across the square where the men of their clan were seated together, drinking palm wine and making merry just like their women folk. There were musicians playing drums, flutes, and other percussion instruments, while the male singer crooned. There had already been a wrestling match. Now the maidens were dancing. After these festivities, a few of them would receive formal proposals and be bound to their life partners once the required rites are performed.

  Today, everyone was dressed in their finest regalia. Adaku was dressed in her best too; her final choice of fabric a surprise to even her.

  She’d had an eye on a new fabric displayed in the market a few weeks back. Obinna had agreed she could make the purchase. However, when she’d awoken the other day to find the most beautiful fabric next to her in bed and the cowries to buy the one she’d seen in the market, she’d known there was only one she would wear today.

  She’d fallen in love with the fabric from Obinna. It was woven with rich red and gold threads and felt soft to the touch. The intricate detailing of the design, and the quality of the fabric, had made her realize its high worth would rival those worn by royalty. She wondered how Obinna acquired it. He was a man of means. He owned vast lands. Though his wealth was not to the standards she’d been accustomed to in her father’s house, she’d never seen a more intricate design of fabric before.

  She’d immediately abandoned any ideas to buy fabric from the market and had chosen instead to wear this one. It had been the right choice. Though he didn’t say anything, his dark eyes had softened.. For the first time since they were bound, pleasing him suddenly mattered to her.

  As it happened, it seemed she was the envy of all the women in the square. Most of them had already complimented her on her outfit.

  Yet as she watched her husband across the square from her, laughing and joking with the men, looking as virile as ever, she knew she would trade the adoration of the rest of the villagers to be with her husband. When their eyes met occasionally, his innate masculinity seemed to reach out to her core from across the square.

  Since the day he’d licked her fingers, she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head. When he wasn’t around, she longed for his company. She’d started taking extra care with her appearance. After all this time living with him, she no longer looked on him as simply the man she’d been forced to wed. She looked on him as a man. Her man. Her husband.

  She wanted him to look at her as a woman. His woman. His wife. She'd do just about anything to get him to look at her again with the same passion in his eyes as the night he’d sucked on her fingers.

  Except things were not always so simple.

  To all intents, they were husband and wife. They lived and were referred to as such. Yet there was a huge rift between them. One she wished she could bridge, yet wasn’t sure how to do so.

  At one point she thought he hated her, keeping her bound to him when she didn’t want him. Yet he’d never been cruel or brutal toward her. His actions were always measured and considerate.

  He was simply a proud man. And she’d disrespected him with her attitude on their wedding night.

  “You will have to force me because I will never be yours, even if you were the last man on earth!”

  She cringed as she remembered her hasty words. When she’d stiffened, her body expecting him to forcibly claim what was his right, she’d been shocked at his calm response. He’d watched her silently for a while before speaking, his cold voice sending an icy shiver down her spine.

  “As you wish, Adaku. I’ll not touch you, but you will remain my wife in every other sense.”

  That night and ever since, he’d slept on a separate pallet and had kept to his words, never touching her. Now she burned to have her husband the way it should be.

  As she glanced over at Ifeoma, who was now blooming, the swell of her pregnancy just beginning to show, a sliver of desperation travelled down her spine. Soon people would start looking at her with pity in their eyes—as a woman who couldn’t conceive or bear a child.

  “Adaku, are you all right?” Ifeoma words drew her out of her reverie. She shook her head before replying.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “It’s just that you had a frown on your face. You are not concerned about the rumors, are you?”

  Dread traveled down her spine. She knew it wouldn’t be a good thing. “What rumors?”

  Ifeoma went pale. “Sorry. Don’t mind me and my big mouth. It’s nothing. Just hearsay.”

  She watched the way her friend’s stare darted away briefly to where another group of women sat together. Something was up.

  “Ifeoma, you have to tell me what you’ve heard. Right now,” she persisted, keeping her voice low.

  “If you’re sure.” Ifeoma was now fidgeting with her clothes, her eyes fixed on her restless hands.

  “Go on. Tell me.”

  “I heard that Nneka, Ofonna’s widow has been released by her in-laws after completing her mourning period. So she’s free to remarry.”

  Adaku couldn’t figure out how this affected her. Some widows, if they were still young enough and without children, were released by their in-laws to remarry another man of their choice. In most cases, they ended up as second or third wives to one of the dead man’s brothers.

  “And?” Adaku persisted. There had to be more to the story.

  “And it is well known that she had a soft spot for Obinna before she was betrothed to Ofonna. It is rumored he may take her as a second wife.”

  It was Adaku’s turn to feel faint as blood drained from her head. She gripped her seat to stop herself from toppling over. Taking a few deep breaths, she glanced over at Nneka, who look
ed happy chatting with her friends, oblivious to the thoughts churning in Adaku’s head.

  Was this true? Had Obinna been lovers with Nneka before he married me? Did he still have a fondness for the widow?

  She glanced over to where Obinna was seated. He was chatting with his friend, Ikem, and they were both looking at the group where Nneka sat.

  Her heart dropped into her stomach. Jealous rage washed over her, clouding her vision in red. It was true. Her husband still had feelings for Nneka. It was evident in the way he looked at the widow.

  The realization was made worse by the fact he’d never touched her intimately except for the finger-licking incident. Now it seemed he was going to bring another woman into her home to compound her shame. She knew she shouldn’t pay any heed to rumors. Yet she couldn’t help the emotions coursing through her veins.

  If her husband chose to take several wives, she could hardly prevent him. It was his right. In most cases, the first wife was consulted and played a role in choosing her husband’s next wife. In her case, she couldn’t blame Obinna if he didn’t confer with her first. Especially, since she’d chosen to be antagonistic toward him at the start of their married life.

  She needed to do something. She needed to regain her place. Being a first wife was null and void if she didn’t have any children. If Nneka came into her home and bore a child before her, Adaku would be relegated to the place of a hand servant in her marital home. Nneka would take the position of first wife.

  I can't let it happen.

  So when the women started dancing, Adaku joined them. In her day she was the best dancer in her age group and could still charm with her moves. Like someone possessed, she danced and jiggled and moved and gyrated. The whole time, she made sure she was in full view of Obinna. Slowly a crowd of the other women gathered around her, cheering her on. She danced for as long as she thought Obinna was watching her. His expression was schooled, and she couldn’t read his thoughts. Yet she danced, happy to have his attention regardless of how he felt.

  When the music stopped, she glanced at Obinna and caught a brief glimpse of desire in his eyes before it quickly vanished. Feeling triumphant, she returned to her seat.

  Adaku’s mother, who had been sitting at the special table with other esteemed guests, came over to congratulate her and bid her farewell. She was preparing to return home.

  “Does Obinna know you are leaving?” Adaku asked, glancing around to find her husband.

  “Yes, I have already bid him farewell.”

  Adaku saw him, and her heart sank. The earlier feeling of elation fleeing her mind. Obinna was standing under a tree, talking to Nneka.

  Not wanting to stay there any longer, she turned to her mother. “Let me walk a little with you.”

  They both left the square, her mother’s attendants following behind. Adaku couldn’t shake the despair that gripped her.

  It is true. It is true.

  The words echoed in her head, slowing her footsteps.

  “My daughter, what is the matter?” Her mother gave her the knowing look, and Adaku couldn’t restrain herself any longer. Her banked up tears escaped and flowed freely.

  Her mother waved the attendants back, pulled Adaku to the shade of a tree, and made her sit on a felled tree trunk.

  “Adaku, talk to me. I know all is not well.”

  Overtaken by grief and at a loss as to what to do about her marriage, she told her mother everything. That her husband had never touched her. That he may soon be taking another wife.

  When she finished, her mother hugged her.

  “You should have told me about this earlier. No woman should have to endure this in her husband’s house.” Her mother patted Adaku’s hands, a frown on her face. “We have a saying. ‘An adult does not sit back and watch while a she-goat delivers her kid when tied to the post'. I cannot sit back and watch disgrace befall you and our family. Wipe your tears, Adaku. I’ll speak to your father immediately.”

  “But mother—”

  “Do not worry about a thing. It will be well.” Her mother shook her head. “Go home. I’ll send word to you. Go.”

  Adaku couldn’t do anything but return home. Now that she’d shared her troubles, she felt a little lighter. However she couldn’t shake the niggling feeling she may have made things worse by telling her mother.

  She prayed the gods would hear her prayers and save her from her troubles.

  ***

  Obinna marched home, his blood bubbling with a mixture of rage at his wife’s blatantly provocative display at the festival and the craving to mate with her and be done with it. Watching her dance had inflamed the desires already simmering in his blood. When he’d noticed other men watching her too, he’d wanted to drag her away. If it hadn’t been for Ikem, who had distracted him at an opportune moment, he surely would have done so. As it happened, by the time he’d turned around to find his wife, she’d gone without even informing him.

  What was she up to?

  As he walked onto his grounds, he chided himself to calm down. She’d probably done it all on purpose just to rattle him so he would send her back to her parents. She had to learn she was his and he would not let her go.

  He’d actually thought things were improving when she’d chosen to wear the fabric he’d specially commissioned the weaver to make for her. Seeing her looking resplendent in it had further thawed another layer of his restraint. He’d barely stopped himself from taking her into his arms. She’d made him happy.

  Searching through the house, he realized she wasn’t there. He wondered where she was until he heard a sound from the bathroom. He pushed open the door and was thunderstruck.

  Adaku stood naked before him, her body slick from the bath she’d just taken. All the things he wanted to say to her vanished from his mind as his body froze where he stood.

  Taking in everything in sight, his gaze roamed freely over her body. From her brown, almond-shaped eyes—molten with longing; small, pert nose; full sumptuous lips on a flawless oval face, to ripe breasts with their nipples tautening even as he watched. His eyes moved lower, past a narrow waist to hips that flared out. He could see the dark curls between her thighs hiding her feminine treasure from his sight. A treasure he wanted to explore right now as his manhood came alive. His gaze moved down still to her long legs that he’d dreamed of wrapping around his hips on several occasions.

  “Get out!”

  His gaze flew back up to her face. It seemed she’d recovered from the initial shock of seeing him and her eyes were now blazing with an odd mix of defiance and lust.

  He laughed and took a step toward her. “Not before I’ve done this.”

  Pulling her into his arms, he lifted her chin and melded their lips together. She stiffened in his arms, her lips slightly open as she tried to speak. He took advantage of the opening and his tongue invaded her mouth. She was moist, juicy, better than he’d imagined. She tasted heavenly. Delicious. Sweeter than any udara fruit he’d ever tasted. His tongue plunged deeper, brooking no resistance, demanding a response.

  He knew when she acquiesced. Her tongue darted out, delving into his mouth, his heart pounding sending a surge of warm blood through his body. She moved her arms up his back, clinging on to him. Moving her body closer to his, she crushed her soft breasts against his hard chest, his hardened manhood pulsating against her flat belly. He didn’t care that the wetness from her body soaked his outfit.

  Letting out a groan as he broke the kiss, his mouth travelled down, taking one taut tip into his mouth while his hand tweaked the other. A gasp escaped Adaku’s lips as he sucked, bit and licked her breast. No mango had ever tasted this sweet. The way her body writhed beneath his touch drove him crazy, and he wanted to sink into her against the bathroom wall.

  The tantalizing thought seemed to bring him back to his senses, and he released her, stepping back. She whimpered. A glance at her face told him she wanted him to continue. Her eyes were still clouded with lustful need. Maybe his stone princess was f
inally cracking. Maybe the jewel beneath would soon become visible. As much as he wanted to test that assumption right now, he had to be certain she was totally flaming hot for him before he finally claimed her.

  “Get dressed. We need to talk,” he said to Adaku, before walking out into the late evening air and breathing easier.

  ***

  With her hands still trembling, Adaku dressed as quickly as she could, a jumble of emotions racing through her.

  What just happened? Why did my legs seem to lack the strength to hold me up?

  She self-consciously moved her hand to her lips, reliving the sensations evoked by Obinna’s touch. She couldn’t believe she’d completely lost all touch with reality and her anger when he’d taken her into his arms. Her annoyance with him had dissolved, replaced with pure longing. The ache still throbbed low in her belly, she yearned for his possession.

  How could he set my senses ablaze so easily? If he hadn’t stopped I would have surrendered totally to him right here in the bathroom. Without reservations. Where is my shame? My dignity?

  He’d openly acknowledged Nneka at the festivities earlier. Now, with the widow being released from mourning, she was free to resume her liaisons with Obinna if he so wished. And here she was shamelessly surrendering to her husband’s touch when another woman was poised to enter her home.

  Was that what Obinna wanted to talk to me about? I can't sit back and keep quiet, can I?

  She’d never been so confused before.

  She finished dressing and went back into the house. Obinna was sitting outside on a chair. The sun had nearly sunk in the horizon, leaving an eerie golden glow in the sky. She hoped it wasn’t a sign things were about to get worse in their marriage. Bringing out another chair, she sat beside him.

  “You wanted to talk, my husband,” she kept her voice even, not wanting to start a quarrel until she heard what he had to say.

  When he turned to face her, he looked pensive for a brief moment. She wondered what had him so worried.