Folktails✔️

19•

F O L K T A I L S
•Torture house•
A gush of freezing water from a calabash accompanying the solid slap from an equally hard hand were administered to his face, forcing him to wake from his peaceful slumber.

Ikenna jerked to life with a great deal of spluttering and coughing just as his brain lumbered around at a loss, and without an idea as to where he was or what situation he had landed himself in.

Then it came slowly; he had been watching Nwakaozo and suddenly everything had gone pitch blank. Then...what?

"Where am I?" He asked, struggling to sit up.

"We ask the questions here Ikenna." A dark-skinned and exceptionally tall, young man said. Ikenna frowned unable to recognise him, then winced in pain as the ringing in his head had chosen to make itself known by clanging with a ferocious intensity.

"Who are you?" He questioned, now taking the time–which he seemed to have enough of–to study his captor.

The lad was a guard; his physique and stance said so, but even more evident was the armlet on his arm. Ikenna wondered whose house he pledged allegiance to as only royal guards wore the golden bands which although bore a striking resemblance to one another, could be owned by any royal household.

"That is not business for you to worry your little head about." He grinned and Ikenna sneered in return, as the empty calabash still in his hand had caught his–Ikenna's–attention.

It annoyed him quite terribly to think that a youth could be so impudent and rude. What was even more infuriating was the fact that he embodied the true form of the reason for Ikenna's uncomfortably wet loincloth and smarting cheek.

Being angry was quite terribly draining. Ikenna thought as he calmed himself slowly by thinking joyful thoughts of knocking good senses into the child's head in another universe where he was not incapacitated.

"How then do you know me?"

"Do not fool yourself son of Maduka. I have no desire to know you. I only have knowledge of your name which now that I give thought to it is quite a weird one." His brow furrowed like he was in deep contemplation. "I have never heard such a name in all my life, and I'm sure neither has anyone I know come across it before."

"I do not care what you think of my name. It makes no difference to me." Ikenna snapped in a snarkish tone. His name had never caused him troubles before, but he did know its originality stemmed from the fact that his ancestors were not natives of Zoro. They had moved here when a ruler of great power had tried to murder them. 

The maidens who raised him knew his mother before her death and they had imparted to him this bit of information about his history which he, even till now held onto with all his heart.

"It should not. In fact, whatever words I utter hold no great importance. My master is the one you should worry about. He was the one who ordered your kidnap."

"Hopefully he faces me soon." Ikenna murmured, shutting his eyes closed in an attempt to block out the pain shooting through all of his being.

As he rubbed his grimy hands closely against each other to rid them of the dust particles that stubbornly stuck on, he could feel the slits forming bruises on his wrists. The twines used to tie his hands were hard enough to cease any thoughts of him ripping them apart without an outside intervention.

His feet were also in the same situation, except they were bound around a stick that made it impossible to move without a wince or two.

"Arinze." A shorter and slightly stubby guard called as he made his way into the hut Ikenna had formally labelled a dungeon.

Even though Ikenna had been knocked unconscious before he was carried away, he was able to deduce by the sweet sounds of nature gracing his ears that they were deep in the forest. The exact location however, he was not sure of. 

"What do you want Ochuko?" the first guard Ikenna had come to know as Arinze turned to the newest addition in the room.

"The master told me to check if you were taking care of the prisoner rightly. He says not to treat him like the others, and you should also do yourself a favour by keeping shut or you will be punished by the time he returns."

"I ought to pull out that stupid tongue of yours." Arinze raised a hand high enough to hit Ochuko and the smaller guard shrinked away from range of his possible strikes.

"That is what he said. I swear on my grandmother's grave."

"I wonder if your grandmother is truly dead so." A doubtful eyebrow was raised at him. "You swear on her grave every chance you get, you foolish idiot."

"She is truly dead, and I am sorry Arinze. Please do not beat me up like the other day. My body is still sore from the stripes I received."

"If you really want to keep the skin you value so preciously, then you would do yourself a favour by clamping your stupid teeth on that red meat and keeping shut."

Behind them Ikenna sighed deeply, just a tad irritated by the unnecessary sound waves and words being thrown around in the little hut. He found it painstakingly difficult to hatch a plan in his head when all he could hear were useless utterances that clouded his mind.

Peeling his eyes away from both younglings, he trailed along the walls taking note of the timeless cracks in them. Wherever they were was also overly old, he added to his list and mental checking of his prison.

There were no windows, only a door for entering and exiting, yet it was not as suffocating as he would had supposed it to be. The only possible explanation would be that they were not too far away from the stream or even more plausible would be that the river lay close by. If either possibilities were true, then the rumour was a reality.

Long before, men–a few women also–who offended anyone of royal lineage suddenly disappeared into thin air. This went on for a while, and then the rumours emerged. It was spread around that the prisoners were being held in a house near the river or stream where they were tortured to death for their impertinence.

Ikenna concluded from the weapons strewn around the ends of the building and the stained floor, he was in what seemed to be a torture house of some sort.

He had to escape.

He was not sure how his thoughts would be possible, but he needed to leave. For now however, he could not show any signs of struggle against his bonds as it could lead to greater security outside or a punishment being meted out on him. Both situations were not pleasant thoughts.

His body was weak and tired already; it seemed to be the side effects of being forced unconscious for what felt like long hours. He would take a rest, and then he could complete his plans with a clear mind and not-tired body.

Sleep proved to be waiting close by to carry his overworked body away, so that it took more than a few droopy blinks before he could recognise the new person that had somehow materialised before him out of thin air.

"A good evening to you Maduka."

"You..." his eyes narrowed into slits.
•