EJIMA

CHAPTER 26

Despite the uneasiness hanging on every side of the camp, Bozo could feel the comfort under his hood—made from an antelope hide—as he walked through the hordes of men that stood, facing the distance ahead. Their hands were clenching their weapons as though their life depended on them, and the torrential drop of sweat that came running down smeared their faces with a glare that almost gave Bozo a skin burn. Pathetic. Bozo thought as he held up his chest, walking through the open space which the surprised men had torn for him. 

The heavens have parted ways with the golden glows of the beautiful morning and the heat of the maturing day was beginning to show its face. But for the ceremony—usually at night and once in a twelve moon cycle—Bozo has never left the comfort of his palace in broad daylight. He had never liked daytime. Of course, he had been born into daylight and had walked in their comfort at a time. But those days are gone. Too many things have transpired in those years. It all seems like yesterday. He had developed this abhorrence for the day, ever since he ascended the throne. The reason was still a secret he had kept with himself for as long as he had lived. While most of his men had found his attitude rather strange, Bozo was glad to be different from other rulers in the seven Kingdom. The glamour of uncertainty and curiosity was the best way to rule. The greatest path to cling to, especially since he was still trying to build an infallible empire. Keeping these men far off was the best he could do. Until he gains his full power and potential, the sword of not knowing and guessing, was the only weapon that can help keep him alive.

What is he doing here? Someone whispered from the right. Bozo did not turn in the direction nor allowed the displeasure to showcase itself on his face. He kept his pace steady as he continued ahead. Let them keep guessing.

“My lord,” Kechi was saying as he hurried towards him. 

The stink of sweat that followed the man’s speech made Bozo pause in his wake and wiped the tear off his eyes. Kechi smelled like urine and vinegar, soaked in a sponge and allowed to lay fallow in a damp room. Was it the goat hide he wore or has the man decided to harbor the dirt of his ancestor?

“We’ve spotted the two lepers,”

Bozo shifted his eyes to the two men that had escorted him to the front line. They stood side by side on his left and right and the sturdy looks that streaked the corner of their faces, suggest the fact that they were not affected by the whiff emanating from Kechi’s body. They must be faking the serious looks because there was no way the stench on Kechi’s body could have gone unnoticed.

“How far?” Bozo stroked the bridge of his nose, grunting as his stomach agitated.

“About five miles away. I ordered our archers to shoot them if they came any closer.”

“Good.” Bozo nodded. At least the smell in your body did not affect your brain. “Any news from Hawk and others?”

Kechi shook his head.

“No news, sir.  But, we received a letter from a raven. The Wolf just reported. The villagers are returning. They are no longer evacuating as we thought.”

“That’s interesting.” Bozo rubbed his nose again as the urge to draw blood suddenly elevated his body with an exciting sensation. He had waited so long for this. How long has it been? Seven years, ten or fifteen years? It was hard to keep count. Well, if the villagers have decided to attack, then it was time to satisfy this yearning within him that was clamoring for souls.

“They can’t win. Not while they lack the skill and weapon.” 

“Yes, my lord. We still have the advantage,” Kechi shifted his weight to the other foot, “If we can attack now, we will triumph.”

“No,” Bozo bit his lips as he allowed his thoughts to wander. 

The other village must be planning something. And besides, their greatest warrior, Jide, was still alive. He was a threat and as long as he lives, and Bozo needs to be careful in his dealings. 

“Yes,” Bozo’s head jutted upwards as another sweet sensation coursed through his stomach. It was not the need to kill. This was something different. It was the feeling of victory. The grace of winning a war without lifting a finger. “Those Lepers. Send them to our enemy’s camp. Send them there immediately.”

“But my lord,” Kechi frowned, “If we send the lepers there, then it means we would not claim the land again. Not while leprosy remains incurable and a curse from the nine gods and goddess.”

“Yes,” Bozo’s smile widens, “We would not claim the land. But it will be inhabitable forever.”

“My lord,” The surprise and confusion on Kechi’s face made Bozo want to laugh. For a time, he forgot the horrible odor that was springing from the other man’s body. 

“What about the infallible empire you want to build for your glory and majesty? Are you going to write off this village?”

“It is my empire, not yours. It is my world, and what I do with it is none of your smelling business” Bozo snorted, “That village is like a little rock dropped into an ocean. I will conquer the other villages east from here. They are much richer and powerful. A better opponent.”

“As it pleases your majesty,” Kechi bowed and hurried to the other side of the line. 

Bozo watched him go and the butterfly in his stomach seemed to course through his body and was coming up his throat. His father had settled his victories with little villages that had no significance in the world. It was time to paint a new picture in history. It was time to take the bull by the horn and reach that height which his father and the father before him had failed to reach.