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April 30th, 1965

James
An Offer

The relentless sun beat down on me as I lay in the cage, letting me know it's already morning. I don't even know how I managed to sleep with my throat parched like the ground I knelt on. My skin was blistering, losing its natural whiteness. Each breath I drew was a struggle, and the hope I had clung to began to fade. Aku, the boy who had saved me, lay beside me, equally worn by the heat and the weight of our predicament. I had never felt so helpless, so out of place, and so utterly lost.

"You're awake," Aku whispered, his voice as deep as the seas that brought me to his land. "I'm surprised you survived that sun. I thought you passed out last night."

"I'd say the same for you," I replied, then felt a burn in my right hand. I could feel the wound on my hand throbbing, the pain a constant reminder of the warrior girl. Her arrow cut through my hand, but thank God it didn't fully pierce through.

Scanning my surroundings, there was no one in sight, but my eyes landed on a cluster of broad-leafed plants. Plantain leaves, at one foot from the cage. I reached an arm out through the bars and plucked some, hoping no one saw. I knew those leaves well; they were a common remedy I used back home. My dad owned a farm, and we were known for our herbs and produces, especially our vegetables.

Taking a deep breath, I looked around for something to mash the leaves with. A small, jagged stone lay within reach. Perfect. Using the stone, I began to mash them against the ground, the leaves releasing their green, sticky sap. With the mashed leaves ready, I tore a strip from my shirt, wincing as the fabric pulled against my skin.

Gently, I applied the green poultice to my wound, feeling a cool relief spread through my hand. I wrapped the strip of cloth around it, securing the makeshift bandage. The process was familiar, almost comforting, a reminder of my training and purpose.

As I leaned back against the cage, exhaustion creeping in, I saw Aku watching me with wide eyes. "What did you do?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and awe.

"Plantain leaves," I explained, showing him my bandaged hand. "They help with inflammation and infection."

Aku nodded slowly, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "That's amazing! We can tell the elders you're a healer. They'll be obsessed with your gift."

"That's not a gift," I objected, "that's basic knowledge."

"It's not. Trust me, they'll want to keep you here. Of course, as a prisoner, but at least it'll save your life. And mine too!" Saying this, I heard our stomachs grumble. We were starving and dying of thirst.

Before I realized, there came one villager then another, until it formed into a crowd. It was like a meeting, all standing and facing the elders' tents. Then, I saw her. The warrior girl who had captured me. Sheba. She approached the elders' tent, her presence commanding respect even among the stern faces of the village leaders. Appeared Prince Aike, and the King, wearing a headdress made of leopard mane, white ochre paintings all over his body and ceremonial tattoos. Everyone bowed, and I did the same. Aku was discreet, but I peeped his laugh, as I bent on my knees.

"What? What's funny?" I asked him.

"You look funny doing it," he replied, his face back to serious mode and his eyes motioning at me to look ahead. All eyes were on us. My heart leaped, almost making its way out of my mouth. I couldn't hear clearly what was said, but Aku gave me a worried look. "They're sentencing us. We will die!"