Balogun

OSOKOTU

"Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that's what makes you strong."
- Sarah Dessen.

"Courage isn't having the strength to go on – it is going on when you don't have strength."
– Napoléon Bonaparte

                                      xXx

It was seven a.m when Murewa heard banging on his door. He jumped awake, disoriented for a few seconds before rushing towards it.

For a brief moment, he thought it might be Jamal coming to pressure him into going for their morning training, but his mind deflected the idea immediately.
Jamal knew his head wasn't in the right frame for that and hasn't been for a while now.

"Olumurewa!" He heard someone shout just as he turned the knob.

It was Queen Habibah.

For eight years, since his return, she had never come to his room this early before and he had never seen her look this scared.

Without her having to say a word, he understood the fear in her eyes and bolted out of his door and down the hallway.
He could hear her running behind him.

He took the stairs three at a time and turned the hall to take the last flight of stairs onto the top floor. He lost the Queen at some point, but he didn't care. She would find her way.

There were no guards by the King's door when Murewa reached and he threw the door open to see King Bankole seating calmly on the bed, his chest heaving slightly.
But there were blood stains on his white nightshirt and the bedcover.

The two men stared at each other for a long time and the silence was only broken by Queen Habibah's entry into the room.

She pushed past Murewa and sat beside King Bankole on the bed.

"He was vomiting blood in the toilet when I left him. And he has been complaining of a terrible stomach ache," she complained to Murewa.

"Why are you exaggerating, woman?" King Bankole warned. "You would make my boy worry."

"I am not a boy," Murewa snapped. "And I am not worried," he added.

King Bankole smiled.
"You didn't tell me you sent out letters yesterday."

Murewa raised his brows at the statement.
"You were asleep," he said. "And I didn't want to wake you. How did you know I sent out letters?"

King Bankole nodded towards his study.
"Because two response letters came in around six, this morning, from the King of Owo and the King Ola and I read through them. They were agreeing to attend this meeting you claimed to be hosting tomorrow. How come I don't know anything about it?"

"You were sleeping." Murewa rolled his eyes, his sleepiness returning.
He knew his father had scared Queen Habibah, for her to come calling him with such urgency at such hour, but the man seemed to be doing better now.

"You saw the letter Ola sent through Jamal. He wants war. I want to give it to him halfway."

"Murewa," King Bankole said calmly. "Let's not rush things."

"We have tried it your way and it didn't work." It took all of Murewa's willpower not to shout at his father. "I want to do this my way, father. I want to end it all."

"What is the meeting going to be about, Murewa? What do you want to do?"

"Judgement," Murewa answered simply.
"I am going back to bed. Yesterday was rough and..." he paused when his father suddenly doubled over again, his hands clutching his stomach.