Women Of Steel | ✔

XI

The bazaar is every bit as dirty and noise as I remember, only this time, it is more crowded. I have to push past people to get to the stalls I want, and more crowds means the smell of perspiration and rotten goods is heavier in the air.

I remember all the shopping back home was left to the maids, and it is only now that I appreciate them. When Mariam, the cook of the camp had asked for volunteers to help her with dinner later, I didn't think twice, my hand had jutted up in the air, quick for an opportunity to do something.

I had also been determined to prove my so called father wrong when he had laughed.

"You, do the shopping? Have you forgotten that just mere weeks ago, you were a snotty princess having maids do the most simple things for you?"

"I can do it." I gritted out, shooting him my most venomous look and thinking that for a god, he did act more like a child. Maybe my task would have been easier too, if Arewa hadn't volunteered to come along. It would have been easier too, if I knew anything about haggling.

Two fish merchants have chased me away from their stall so far after I dared to haggle meat at a lower price. And even worse, Arewa keeps stopping at every stall to ask if any merchant has seen her sister, and when I try to rebuke her, she glances at me sharply and reminds me of the oath I swore to her.

I should have listened to Zahir when he warned me about swearing an oath.

"You cannot continue doing this, Arewa, remember what I told you this morning about your kind being hunted?" I remind her as she limps to catch up with me.

"Hunted by my mother." She adds stubbornly. "I don't see why that is a bad thing."

I exhale sharply and look up at the sunny clouds, praying silently for patience.

"I just told you why!" I cry aloud, hushing my tone when's sketchy looking merchant glances our way. Because Arewa is still a wanted woman, she is wearing the smallest size of male clothing we could find, even then, it is impossible to hide her limp, all it takes to find her is someone overhearing our conversation, or listening enough to notice that her voice is nothing like a man's.

"Listen to me," I tell her as we come to a stop in front of another meat stall, the stocky looking merchant perks up as he notices us. "We will find Boluwatife, I swear to you, but not now."

She pouts like the fifteen year old she is and I ignore her, facing the merchant with a tired smile on my face.

"You want meat?" He asks in broken Ede language. This afternoon, I have noticed that the influence of Ede language has spread far, solely becoming a universal language and somehow it makes me sad. If the three cultures with their different language begins to lose, then what else is next?

I wonder if we're slowing losing who we are.

"That one." I point at one of the biggest pieces hanging on the stall. And as I glance around the small stall, I have no idea what type of meat Mariam wants. She had handed me a pouch of cowries and the instruction to buy meat and some other spices that I have never heard of and still haven't found yet and I've been gone almost an hour.

"Ah, twenty cowries for that one." The merchant says with a wide grin and when I peer closer at his face to see if his grin spells deceit, he scurries back.

"You buy or not?"

I am not even sure if twenty cowries is reasonable or outrageous and when I turn to ask a sulking Arewa, she is no longer standing by my side. My heart sinks down to my stomach in fright, my eyes glance around frantically, in time to see her disappear into the crowd.

That girl will be the death of me.

Without another word to the merchant, I take off after her, screaming her name in hope that she stops, but she doesn't. A fat man barrels into me, hitting the side of my face with his sweaty arms.

"gods, no." I shriek as I weasel from underneath his grip and slam my side into another stall.

"Sorry!" I cry out as the merchant curses loudly in a foreign tongue. At least it wasn't the stall selling grains, I chant to myself.

I stop to catch my breath, and that is when my eyes find her arguing loudly with a cart pushing man.

"Where are they keeping them?" I hear her shout as I draw closer.

"I swear, I don't know!" The man cries, it is only then I notice Arewa is gripping tightly onto the front of his shirt.

"You stupid girl!" I hiss, pulling her back until she lets go. The cart man hurriedly wheels away while Arewa whirls around to glare at me.

"You will never understand how it is to lose the person closest to you, princess." She snarls. "You have been sheltered your whole life, that you have no idea how people like me pay for your dead father's sins."

My hands bunch into fists of their accord. "You don't know what you are saying."

Arewa raises her chin and I cannot help but think of Demilade's own defiance.

"I know that it is the truth, look at you, you cannot even do something as simple as cook, shop, or even wash your clothes." She continues, each words a stab to my chest and she ticks them off with her fingers then lifting them to my face as a taunt.

"Go back to your palace, princess, you don't belong anywhere here." She sneers and straightens, no hint of an apology in her voice.

This time when she walks off, I let her.

***

"Where are you running off to?" A familiar voice calls out with amusement, I jump in fright and clutch my hand to my heart.

It takes several blinks in the night for me to make out the Prince's form standing just outside my tent. He smiles and points to my all black attire, a dashiki that Mariam gave me after dinner.

"Have we worn you out already?" He asks. "Mariam told me you helped with dinner, thank you."

A silly smile blooms on my face then fades again, remembering Arewa's words.

"Is there somewhere you are running off to?" He repeats. I shake my head, finding my words elude me when he takes steps closer to me.

"No where. I wanted to walk." I lie. I wanted to visit the slave den I was in before I was rescued because I am an idiot who made a foolish promise.

The Prince shrugs a shoulder and a wave of his dark hair slips down to his back.

"Good, we will walk then." He falls into step with me. "I wonder if this particular walk includes setting free slave women."

Zahir catches my look of surprise and he shakes his head.

"I was wondering when you would try that foolish plan and frankly, you took your time, I have waited three nights out for you. Come with me, there is something you must see."

***

I salute y'all professional hagglers, I suck at it, lol.

I wrote this chapter in roughly twenty minutes, and hope it wasn't bad.

PS, Black Parade by Beyonce is the ANTHEM of this chapter and of this book in total :-)