To say Uche was not amused was an understatement.

“What came over you?!” he asked again, not understanding the stupidity-inspiring fascination his friend had with the slaver princess.

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle,” Ter absently waved his whetstone. “You of all people should know it will take more than that to bring down the son of warriors.”

Uche scoffed and quickened his pace, “The spirits may have made you more than human, but you are not one of them … yet. You are still mortal; you eat, drink, piss and sleep and one day you will die.”

Ter increased his pace with visible effort, the injuries from Aminah’s guards still leaching his strength, he jiggled the whetstone in his good hand. “All men die, only a fool fears what waits at the end of every man’s journey.”

Uche turned and regarded his friend with unfathomable eyes, “True that only fools fear death, but it is a bigger fool who courts that which will come in its own time.”

Ter ignored the stare and walked past Uche,

“In any case, that was three days ago. I would have thought you would have gotten tired of the issue, but you’re like a dog with a bone. I explained already, it was the gods or spirits bending me to their will. I was powerless to resist their plotting. I have heard you Mama and I will be careful next time.”

A small stone smacked him in the back of the head, he swiveled to glare at Uche who was ready with an impish grin.

“I’m not your mother, by all means throw your life away.”

Uche stopped at a copse of medium sized trees.

“These look good enough and there are no spirits in residence, they will do.”

Ter sat heavily at the base of one of the trees, “I’m sure your lost villagers can wait a few hours for their wood, I need to rest a little after our little stroll.”

Uche sat cross-legged opposite his recovering friend. He stretched his hand in a plucking motion and conjured his Dibia satchel.

“You would have done well to avoid those blades entirely, your distraction almost cost you your life.”

Ter rolled his eyes, “No one told me they were using poisoned blades.”

Uche spread a small cloth on the ground and sprinkled soil on it.

“Their weapons were not poisoned; they were spirit blessed or cursed depending on which end of them you’re on. I would have thought not getting bled at all would have been the way to go, or did the spirits abandon you?” Uche asked while he drew patterns in the sprinkled sand.

“You were not there, those men moved faster than normal and they wielded their weapons with great skill. I’m grateful they were not expecting my prowess else things might have ended worse for me.”

Uche brought out a handful of charms and mumbled incantations as he cast them on the cloth. Ter tried to look but as usual all he saw was a blur; his senses insufficient to let him see the portents. Uche stared at them for a long while, his brows creased in concentration.

“So, what do you think of this Gimbiya Aminah wants our help with?”

Uche shook his head in frustration, “that’s what I’ve been trying to ask but the spirits have retreated beyond the veil.”

“I didn’t ask what the spirits think; I asked for your thoughts, Uche.”

Uche rolled his eyes and began to fiddle with his auguries. “Although I don’t particularly like your princess, letting a creature like she described be resurrected by some misguided fools would be irresponsible. I suspect there might also be a relic or two she would like to acquire at the forgotten city.

If she is a better person than most of her fellow royals, then I fear for the evil they would perpetrate with such power in their hands. If she has use for us then we would be wrong to not lend our aid. I don’t trust her completely though; she is a strange one.”

“Strange?”

“The flames of ambition burn in her eyes, she is a dangerous person who will see others trampled to achieve her desires, yet I also sense loyalty and a lack of ruthlessness. She is a contradiction to my senses” He gathered up his divination charms and cast them again. “There is also the fact that her future is shielded from me, much like yours.”

Ter leaned in. “Are you also angry because she refused to return the men she took from the village?”

Uche hunkered down, obstructing Ter from snooping. “There is that too but what I speak of is bigger than a handful of slaves.”

“So, is she what we came up the great river to seek or not?”

“As I said, the spirits are silent. I cannot say for certain that she is what we seek however she is a part of it, the last vision that you had confirms it. Speaking of visions, I saw you depleting the burukutu stock at her camp. I assume it didn’t get you drunk.”

“No,” replied Ter sulkily.

“Am I right to further assume that the next step is to attempt relations with the princess?”

Ter perked up at that “Yes.”

“Don’t.”

Ter waited for Uche to elaborate but was disappointed as all his friend did was to cast his charms again.

“You have to give me a reason better than 'don’t'.”

“I told you before, she is dangerous.”

A dangerous bent angled Ter’s spine. “So am I.”

Uche stowed his charms and dusted the soil off the casting cloth.

“You have rested enough; get on with the cutting so we can at leave a reasonable pile for those left in the village towards the harmattan before we leave.”

Ter tugged his cutlass out of its leather sheath and spent a moment considering the blackened blade. Truth be told the weapon scared him a little; its blade was pitched forward towards the tip, with a convex edge close to the tip and concave edge closer to the grip. Its alligator skin covered hilt was hook shaped so that it nestled his hand, a chain connected the top and bottom of the hilt so that it rested over his knuckles when he held the blade.

Already a fearsome weapon when he looted it off the body of one of the pale ones during his coming-of-age raids, his battle with the guardian masquerade had turned its blade black and left gouges in it; yet the blade seemed stronger for it, its edge had never dulled since that day and he hadn’t encountered any material that could would not give way before the blade.

The warning from his ancestors swam around his head but bothered him little. His people did not get attached to weapons; a true warrior of his people was fearsome with whatever he held in his hand even if the hand was empty. When the time came that it turned against him, he would abandon it.

Spotting a tree where he would begin the day’s activity, Ter took a wide stance, cocked his hand above and behind his head and swung with all his might.

A crowd of children had gathered at the edge of the village and watched Ter as he created a pile of the trees he had felled. He went into the forest and returned with tree after tree till the pile approached the height of a man. Soon all activity in the village ceased as everyone just stood and stared at Ter single handedly heft trees that would take two fully grown men to carry in from the forest and toss them on the growing pile like they weighed nothing more than kindling.

Uche came out of one of the few standing huts that he had converted into a temporary obi to investigate the sudden silence that had overcome the village and grimaced when he saw the cause of the disturbance.

“I see doing violence to trees has completed your healing, however you are frightening the villagers with your strength,” He called out in Ter’s native tongue.

Ter startled at the sound of his language but remembered he had let Uche draw the knowledge out of him. Looking up for the first time, he noticed the crowd that had gathered to watch his tree piling frenzy.

“My apologies,” Ter replied in the same language before slowing down the speed of his work and pausing more frequently in an attempt to fake effort.

Activities continued in the village after Ter put on his pretense of effort with only the older women throwing disapproving looks at his exposed torso each time one of them passed. Uche and Ter spent a week preparing the people of Galmaye before they left for their rendezvous with Aminah.

Ter was having difficulty staying on the mount that had been given to him, he could almost swear the animal was making a conscious effort to toss him. Uche rode alongside him, back straight, looking like a little princeling. He suspected his shapeshifting friend was some sort of dispossessed noble.

‘Probably banished for the blasphemy that spewed forth every time he opened his mouth to speak about the gods.’

Ter was considering calling it quits on the learning experience and walk on his own two feet when something dark and hungry entered the range of his senses. His blade was half drawn before he caught sight of Aminah’s calvary captain or bodyguard? What was his name again? Ba- something, Bala, Bama, Baya? Whatever the man’s name was, there was something wrong with him. The way his shadow seemed to shift in the light and move slightly out of sync with him. At some point Ter could have sworn he had caught the soldier having a whispered conversation with it.

“Gimbiya requests that you both ride up with her at the front of the column”

OfCourse he was bringing a message from his Princess.

“Thank you, Captain Bawa, give Gimbiya our utmost thanks for the honor, however we’re perfectly fine here.” Uche’s refusal was given in the most pleasant tone Ter had heard from his friend to date, at least he wasn’t alone in his apprehension of the man.

The captain showed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“You may have misunderstood me; you will ride up with her at the front of the column.”

The irritated looking soldier made a strange clicking sound as he wheeled his mount around and began making his way back to the vanguard. Ter’s mount broke into a brisk trot at the sound, a frantic struggle and strained abdominal muscles were the only things that kept him in the saddle as his traitorous horse followed Captain Bawa.

“Bura’uba” Ter swore and Uche failed to suppress a guffaw as he spurred his horse to follow.

Aminah took in her guests as they pulled up alongside her. She saw Bawa about to berate them for the breach in protocol but waved him away. The one with the midnight locks of hair rode like a natural; his posture very formal.

The second one who had mowed down a fist of her Sa’idawa looked like he would rather be walking. His discomfort was a small price to pay in her opinion, even now, she wasn’t sure why there was no rage over her murdered subordinates. It set a bad precedent, for a fist to be wiped out with no comeuppance.

In any case, she was another step closer to getting Bayajidda’s sword. Next, drop off the unfortunates at the capital, resupply, and hopefully get to Daura before the next moon cycle. She would make Grandfather proud!

“So, what do you think of our glorious empire so far?”

She congratulated herself internally for finding a topic that they could all find common ground on.

“Not much of an empire really...” Uche began before being interrupted by Ter.

“What my friend meant to say is we didn’t realize the extent of your empire before travelling its vast savannahs.”

Aminah got even more upright in her saddle, her expression screaming preening.

“Wait till you see Zazzau itself; Jewel of the Savannah. Our great wall wide enough for two war chariots to ride side by side. With turrets that reach to the sky. Only outshone by the Ruby palace, it took my grandfather his whole reign to finish its construction…”

“On the backs of slaves, no doubt.” Uche mumbled under his breath

Aminah was miffed at being interrupted, “I didn’t quite hear that?”

Ter was warming up to his new role of peace keeper “He was marveling at the sheer amount of manpower required to construct such wonders.”

“That’s why it took so long, Grandfather in his wisdom only used the best artisans and skilled laborers. Apart from a few who died during its construction, they were all rewarded with their own farmsteads after the palace was completed” Aminah reached over and patted her mount, it had been surprisingly well behaved on this outing.

Switching her attention back to her guests, she continued “I didn’t give you a lot of details earlier in case you chose not to follow me. You may ask your questions now.”

“The winds carry words to those who would listen. Maybe we should wait until we are camped to discuss such matters?” Uche suggested.

Aminah grinned childishly “No need for you to worry about that, surrounded by my Sa’idawa, the winds would not dare carry our words.”

“Very well then.” Uche continued “Apart from putting down a dangerous beast, what’s the other reason you want us to visit Daura?”

“Fair, have either of you heard about the legend of the exiled prince Bayajidda?”

Ter shook his head while Uche developed a thoughtful look.

Clearing her throat, Aminah launched into the tale with unconcealed enthusiasm

“Centuries ago, there was a prince from a kingdom that encompassed a whole continent. Bayajidda was the first-born prince of the king but his mother was of low birth. Loved by the citizens, tutored by the great masters from the time he could walk, he excelled in his studies, eventually becoming Prime general of the armies and was placed above all others in the eyes of his father the king.

Unfortunately, the King was suddenly murdered in his bedroom in the prime of his rule. There had been talks of him changing the succession laws to allow his first-born to inherit before that. The third prince who was first-born son of the Queen took their father's throne. His first act was to purge anyone who could contest the throne. Barely escaping with his life, Bayajidda sought refuge with one of his teachers; a mysterious ascetic believed to be immortal by some.

The records are blurry on how but it came out that the Queen and third prince had been responsible for the King’s early departure. Infuriated, Bayajidda asked his teacher to help him get justice to which the ascetic bestowed him a weapon of Power. The sword of the First emperor of men, it was said to have never known defeat in battle. Armed with a weapon fit for a king, Bayajidda rallied the generals loyal to him.

Such was the love the people had for their First prince that City after City opened their gates to his march with not a single drop of blood spilled. Eventually, his armies encircled the Capital of Baghdatha and a siege began. On the seventh day of the siege, his younger brother is said to have beheaded his own mother on the walls in a bid to appease Bayajidda. Appalled by the action of his younger brother, Bayajidda is said to have dispersed his army and gone into exile. Not wanting to sit on a throne that would make a man kill his own mother.”

“And he’s considered a hero? It looks like all he accomplished was wasting everyone’s time.” Ter couldn’t help but comment in irritation at the actions of the first prince at the end of the tale.

Uche nodded in agreement, “I have heard of this tale, although the version I know differs in some details. His is a cautionary tale, the third prince brought the kingdom to its knees with his incompetence, eventually being forced to abdicate to his maternal uncle. It is said Bayajidda's action of self-exile was just as bad as his brother’s incompetence in contributing to the destruction of their dynasty.”

Aminah waved their comments away “What matters isn’t what happened centuries ago. What matters is that the sword he wielded has now resurfaced in Daura and I have a chance of obtaining it.”

“You have told us the tale of a weapon of power but haven’t told us why you want it.” Ter asked while narrowly escaping another attempt on his dignity by his mount.

“I am in a similar situation to Bayajidda at home, my title of heir was stripped from me and given to my younger brother. I plan to take it back by obtaining the Sword of Bayajidda and proclaiming my right-to-rule.”

Uche was incredulous “Were your parents unable to conceive after you? Why would they name you heir in the first place?”

The very air stilled at the comment. Darkness boiled out of the princess, blocking out the sun around them. Aminah brought her ride to a stop and pinned Uche with a glare. Ter felt his connection to the spirits stir in response to the scent of bloodlust. Sounds echoed at the edge of his hearing, the chaos of battle, the despair of men mowed down by thunderous walls of horse flesh. The darkness around the princess churned like storm clouds, images to match the echoed sounds flashing in its depths; myriad battlefields where rivers of blood flowed.

“And why should I not have been made heir in the first place?” she hissed out through gritted teeth.

At some point her bodyguards had moved and blades now rested against Ter and Uche’s necks.

“No disrespect meant Gimbiya. Forgive my companion for speaking out of tur…” Ter was quick to interject before being interrupted.

“I was not speaking to you barbarian; I was speaking to the skin walker with an over inflated opinion of the tricks he calls skills.”

“I’m sorry for the disrespect Gimbiya.” Uche ground out.

The tableau remained frozen for another heartbeat, with the ghostly sounds resolving to a battle chant accompanied by the crash of swords on shields.

“I accept your apology, although I feel bad for any daughters you may have.” Aminah wheeled her mount around and continued on the path “allow them to keep their lives, they are still useful to this Sarauniya.”