by Robi, Carol
I am commissioned to remain at his side at all times, for I’m the best at nursing him. Mother often relieves my duty so that I may rest, but I’m rarely far away. My brothers have built me a makeshift bed at the outer room of his house, a much unheard of situation for a maiden always sleeps in a maiden house.
However, at this difficult time, neither of my family is thinking of propriety. My brothers have also built a makeshift house beside fathers, in which the healer and his apprentice can live in while they attend to my father, as a tent wouldn’t do because the short rains season has begun.
At any given time, mother and I are almost always in father’s house, and the burden of the housework, cooking, taking care of my younger brothers and the light farming we do during the short rains season has fallen to my brothers and their wives. These are some of the advantages of having a large family. Chacha has taken up all of fathers kingly roles like running the council meetings and presiding over tribunal cases, for father is not able to handle all that at the moment.
My heart grows weary, and my faith dwindles as the short rains season slowly comes to an end, and ushers in the cold season. We get many visitors and well wishers in this time, royalty as well as our subjects, and with them they come with many fattened livestock of which they sacrifice to the gods and join us in praying for father’s health.
They keep coming again and again, for fathers condition doesn’t get better. Not especially during the cold season, which tends to be his worst time even when he’s healthy.
One of the most frequent of our visitors are the Nyabasi royal family, of which I’m not particularly surprised as father had often confessed that Maga Ribasi isn’t as brainless as he might appear each time he drinks himself too much at festivals and ceremonies, which is often. I gather that he and father get along well.
The other kings also visit us, including Maga Irege, the king from the far east, despite his advanced age. The king from the North comes too, Maga Ekira, of the Bakira brother kingdom, and he brings with him plenty of livestock, and we make a large bonfire for the sacrifice, the scent of burning beef lasting for days. But even then, the gods do not melt their resolve and grant my father reprieve from his ailment.
The prince of Nyabasi is a constant visitor, every ten days or so at least, and always brings with him so much fattened livestock to sacrifice that I fear we shall have condemned his family into eating vegetables for a while. But even so, he keeps coming still. I suspect his father sends him, and does not accept any attempts he might have to refuse. Often he comes with his sister, or a younger brother or Chacha Renchoka. At times he even comes with a group of his fellow saro members.
I get uncomfortable when he’s here, because I have to show him to my father’s house, being that he is a crown prince sent with word from his father, and when I do so, I know he notices that I’ve been sleeping in my father’s house. I fear what will happen when word gets out. In my family nobody cares, because everyone knows I’m a skilled nurse here at home. However he might not understand, and it is why I choose to talk to him of it today, and ask for his discretion, like he once asked me for mine.
I wait outside my father’s house, leaning against a smooth wooden post until he walks out before I proceed to talk to him.
“Prince, would you afford me a word?” I say cautiously, standing straighter as he steps out, suddenly becoming aware that I haven’t tended to my hair for countless days.
He, on the other hand, he looks impeccably dressed. His warrior braids are freshly made and dyed, as is the norm with Bakoria warriors, and his face is smoothly shaven revealing his well chiseled jaw. His spear, a near permanent fixture in his hand is oiled and shone, and the steel spear head sparkles bright. The strap of zebra hide running across his chest that holds in place the shield on his back hangs taut, pressing against his well formed torso, that has me inhaling with difficulty as I force my eyes back up to meet his.
Kind eyes, painfully kind eyes look back at me with pity, that my heart breaks yet again as I realise once again that my father is in there battling to live.
“Of course,” he tell me kindly, shifting his spear to his other hand.
“I just.. you are the only none family member in our age-set of the young and unmarried that steps into my father’s house whenever you visit,” I say.
“”I’m aware. I’m crown prince, and my father wishes to hear direct word of your father’s health,” he says defensively and I realise he might think that I’m looking to call him out on it. I rush on to clarify myself.
“No, of course. It is very heartwarming and considerate that your father should concern himself so much with the well being of my father,” I say.
“I’m concerned too,” he corrects me, and I yet again bash myself for not being as eloquent as Matinde.
“Of course, prince. I didn’t mean..”
“Do you wish that I stop my visits..”
“No, no that’s not it,” I rush to reassure him. The passion in my voice must have dissuaded his misplaced suspicions, for his face now softens a little as he regards me.
“Then what is it you wish to tell me, princess?”
“I wish to beg you of your discretion,” I say quietly, looking to my side, fighting the urge to run my hand through my hair and attempt to correct it from the sorry state I’m sure it is in.
“I know you’ve long noticed that I sleep in my father’s house..”
“Be reassured that such nonsensical gossip has no reason to leave my mouth,” he says firmly. “I assumed it is because of your excellent nursing skills that I was witness to when your father had his attack along the main trade road.”
“I’m a good nurse,” I manage to mutter quietly in answer, finding it hard to meet his gaze because there’s something about the gentle way with which he’s speaking to me at the moment that has my heart in a flurry.
“I believe you are,” he says quietly, his voice seeming to be laced with a smile, and I look up wishing to confirm it. I immediately regret the action, for my heart suddenly begins drumming faster than the tomba drums during the mating at a wedding, and I suddenly feel very light headed, and must press my back against the post I lean on so as to keep from wobbling.
“I.. I..”
“Might I call for you should I ever need to be nursed? My sister does a terrible job indeed when it comes to nursing,” he says with a smile, and I can’t help but chuckle, albeit nervously. The nyarmura never appears to me as having a single nurturing bone in her body.
“You have yet another sister,” I remind him.
“She’s far too young to know what to do,” he tells me, and I see the playful glint behind his eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s flirting with me. Why ever would he choose to do so?
“Your mother..?”
“Has rough hands hardened from all that sisal weaving she’s obsessed with.”
“She isn’t obsessed with it, she’s just very skilled at it.”
“It’s an addiction, that is what it is,” he tells me chuckling.
“You wouldn’t know what a hobby is then,” I tell him, folding my arms nervously before me. I think I’m also flirting with him!
“Oh really? then why is it that each time I go spear fishing my family has a feast of fish..?”
“You shouldn’t go fishing on River Mara! What about all the crocodiles?” I exclaim before I can stop myself.
His smile is knowing as it widens slowly, and he takes a step closer to me, which sends my pulse racing and makes my breath come out in ragged puffs as I press my back even more against the post behind me.
“I knew you care for me.”
“Don’t be silly!” I exclaim. “My prince,” I add as an after thought, to which he laughs.
“You do. You care for me and worry that I might get my hand bitten by a crocodile. Tell you what- I’ll be heading off to fish today. Maybe I might be lucky enough to get bitten so that you may come and nurse me..”
“Stop
it! You mustn’t tempt the gods so!” I exclaim.
“Dear princess, the gods don’t need any tempting to make us miserable, I tell you.”
“In any case, don’t you make such jokes,” I tell him. “Thank them for your health and well being,” I add, to which his face falls as he once again remembers that I’m ridden with worry about my father’s health.
“I apologise,” he says quietly, his eyes seeking mine, and arresting them when they meet. “I just wanted to make you smile. You’ve been sad for a long time.”
Surely even I can’t hold him against that, can I? And why does he go saying such attentive things to me, when he knows I risk misconstruing them as attentions to me?
“Then count yourself successful,” I tell him sincerely, attempting to dampen my fast beating heart. “You managed to make me smile, and even chuckle, something I haven’t done in a long while,” I say.
Now it’s his turn to be unsure of myself. It appears that whatever I’ve said has managed to touch him somehow, and it is the first time I manage to admit to myself that this arrogance prince might be seeking out to be friends with me after all.
How endearing, how fortunate that one as inconsequential as I should manage to warrant from him a desire to be friends. Yes, I’m princess now. But this is the highest station I’ll ever hold in my life. To remain princess, or even have the chance to be elevated to queen one day, only one Bakoria warrior can grant me that, and he’s standing before me. However I’m not stupid enough to believe that he could ever want me for his wife, despite my heart’s deepest desires. Prince Makena is a strong man that needs a strong woman that commands the respect of not only her peers, but of all in the four brother kingdoms. I could never be that woman.
“I must take my leave. My sister and I intend to fish before we cross the Mara, as your kingdom’s side of the river has the most fish.”
“You must be careful. There are..”
“Yes, I know princess. Even the biggest fool in Bakoria knows that the great river is filled with crocodiles. I have been fishing there since I was a young boy with my father and uncles, and they’ve taught Gati and I the best places to fish so as to avoid those giant reptiles you are so worried about,” he says cheekily, a confident smile playing on his lips that has my insides knotting tightly into themselves.
“Besides, I have Gati by my side. I think even crocodiles are scared of her.” I chuckle again at this.
“She’s a phenomenal woman.. warrior,” I rush to correct, looking at him discomfited as I realise that I’m not sure what to refer to her as.
“I believe terming her as a woman is correct, considering I’ve never seen her piss while standing.” He chuckles at the increasing look of discomposure on my face and rushes on to add this.
“Just because she prefers to throw spears rather than grind cereal and cook, you won’t hold it against her and refuse to term her as woman, will you?”
“Of course not, prince,” I rush to tell him, and it is only when he laughs yet again that I realise he is toying with me.
“I shall be sure to tell her that..”
“Prince Makena!” I call disconcerted, but he turns away right then, while still chuckling, and starts walking away following along the narrow path that will lead him back to our courtyard where his sister and best friend await.
“Don’t tell her anything, prince,” I call after him firmly, though my voice is naturally low.
“Have a good day, princess!” Is all he calls out in answer without bothering to turn back my way, his amused chuckle still audible.
I turn away from looking after him when he walks around the large royal gooti, and press the back of my head back against the post and close my eyes, attempting to recompose myself before I go back in to check on father.
Chapter 23
It is when the cold season comes to an end and gives in to the wet summer season that father’s breathing begins to revert to normal yet again. After a dozen days or so, father is well enough to take walks around the kingstead, and I escort him, of course. The healer and his aid finally move back to their homes, and my brother’s dismantle the makeshift house and we replant bushes and grass where it had been.
This season is marked with various wild berries that I help the young ones collect whenever father successfully manages to chase me from his side, and we make many jars of jams as well as dry the dates and other berries to preserve. Groundnuts are also plentiful this season, and are most of what we eat as most of our livestock that was of age and size to slaughter for food was sacrificed for father’s health. My brothers go on hunting expeditions to the vast Northern Plainlands and beyond the Southern Forests of Wisu to hunt for game for our family, so as to leave our remaining young livestock to grow and multiply again.
Antelope meat is by far my favourite, followed by gazelle. Father says it’s a lion’s favourite meat too, and he explains to me that the constant running and exerting of their muscles has made their meat very delectable.
“That and the meat of zebras..”
“No! Why ever do they eat darling zebras,” I cry in frustration, which causes my whole family to laugh at me.
“Oh, sweet pumpkin,” Chacha says, reaching across the table to stroke my hand lightly. “Lions do eat zebras, and I know for sure that in the Moreno kingdom, zebra meat is one of their delicacies.”
“But.. Why would anyone eat such a loving pet?”
“I assure you that they don’t keep zebras as pets, to breed them with horses like we do. They ride camels and desert horses so far up North,” he reminds me. “We are the only ones in the region that ride them. And they consider us savages for doing so.”
“They consider us savages for everything,” Mogesi, my other brother that follows after Chacha pipes in. “They’d consider us savages just because they can.”
“I’d rather be a savage than be civilised and eat dear zebras!” I exclaim firmly.
“Agreed!” The others chorus.
Soon the second summer begins to come to an end, and with it are lengthened periods of heat waves that has everyone already looking forward for the long rains. I stay close to father, impacting the strict orders from my brothers that he’s not to lift a single finger in doing anything. Father is terribly bored at the moment, and it’s why he’s often pleased whenever he gets a visit.
It is on such a lazy afternoon that the Prince from our eastern neighboring kingdom arrives, in the company of his father and sister, to pay visit to my father.
Father is more than happy for the visit, and is especially glad that he shall be able to attend them in the royal gooti as official royal visitors, rather than in the confines of his house. We join the the kings for a drink in the first part of the visit, of which I remain silent while the kings and the two Nyabasi Bana ba Maga converse easily among each other on the predictions for the crops this coming main seasons, and the ever growing rates of the commodities we buy from our neighbours in the region, as contrasted to the stagnant price of our farm produce.
“What do you think, princess?” I hear someone says as I trace the engraved patterns on the calabash I hold in my hands.
I think I’m the one that made them. The patterning is clearly one of mother’s designs, but the skill is lacking, and is why I know it isn’t mother’s work. It might be Wei’s, for she’s nearly equally as skilled as I am, but definitely not Matinde. Matinde might be great at everything else, but at engraving and pottery, her works are almost always of dismal quality.
It is only when I finish that thought that I realise the party has grown quiet. I look up questioningly at that moment, and perceive the four pairs of eyes aimed my way, amused expressions on their faces.
I look away from the faces of our visitors, and narrow in to my father’s face on the farthest end of the table, pleading for help to divert the attention from me because my hands are starting to shake with discomfort.
“Makena asked what you think we ought to do about the trading rates,” Gati
prompts upon reading my blank face. My eyes sweep over her, then quickly divert back towards father for help yet again.
“Maybe get us a refill, my child,” father prompts, of which I gratefully jump to my feet and head towards the gourds of drink lined along the long high walls.
I hear laughter behind me from two sources, but then I’m surprised upon hearing the prince shush his father and sister in not so discreet a manner.
As I get back with a filled gourd in hand, I send him a most grateful look, to which he just smiles back in answer. I’d be thinking at this moment that he makes for a great friend, if my insides wouldn’t throw themselves into such a state of turmoil whenever he smiles at me so.
When we are done with the current drink, our fathers move to tell us that they’d like the room to speak privately.
“I promised Chacha that I’d remain by your side all day and ensure you don’t lift a finger,” I remind him quietly, which seems to amuse the whole party for some reason or other.
“Tell Chacha..”
“He said I ought to, father,” I remind him firmly. His lips narrow to a firm line as he begins to lose patience with me. I hate it when I annoy him, but it is for his own good.
“It’s about your health, father,” I remind him, speaking even more quietly than before, that I’m surprised anyone of them has heard me at all.
“I’ll take good care of him while you’re away,” Maga Ribasi surprises me by saying then. “Just show my children around your kingstead in the meanwhile, while we talk of official matters. Alright princess?” The great Nyabasi says, his eyes wrinkled with kindness and laughter, that manages to make me mellow inside.
“Okay,” I finally say. “Just remember he must not..”
“Lift a finger,” everyone says in chorus, laughing at me, and this time I can’t help it but be slightly amused.
We remain quiet as we cross the large vacant hall, the sounds of our thinly soled sandals echoing across the large hall until we step out of it and the heavy doors swing backwards. We stop by the stairs, and the two Bana ba Maga turn to look at me, waiting, and I once again feel the pressures of entertaining guests.