When Gods Bleed

by Njedeh Anthony

  “I have to admit that for a blind man you gave a graphic description of intercourse. Goodnight, my friend.”

  “Goodnight, Your Majesty. Won’t you ask who is openly for you?”

  Without looking back Obi answered, “I know who it is.”

  As Obi lay down, thoughts of his wife still filled his head. Each time he laughed or smiled, he was surrounded by guilt. As he fell asleep, he saw Amina walking around a field. He kept trying to catch her, but he was not fast enough. Whenever he was about to hold her, she moved faster, but still he kept chasing her until he seemed to catch her. As she was slipping through his arms, he held firmer. Then the ground opened and he fell. Soon as he landed, he woke up. This time, what he saw in front of him was no dream. He rubbed his eyes to be sure.

  Standing in front of him was his wife. She was not talking, nor was she running. She was just using her hands to tell him to come. As he walked toward her, he was sure that no other human being could be as beautiful as she. Tears fell from his eyes. Wherever she was going, he would follow.

  When he got to where she was, he stretched out his hands to touch her. In a flash, his wife transformed into an ugly man who grabbed Obi by the neck. Obi gasped for air as he tried to pry the man’s hands from around his neck.

  As the man tightened his squeeze, Obi punched his body. The man did not seem to feel anything. When Obi started kicking with his legs, he realized that they had ascended from the ground and were in the air.

  All of a sudden the man dropped him and he landed heavily on the ground. On the floor, he looked up to see the old man and the Ifa priest in the air, looking each other in the eye.

  “So it is you, the young Ifa priest, who wants to touch the waters that burn,” the man said.

  “I thought the code of war said Tikpapa’s are not allowed to kill the adversaries of their liege. I wonder what kind of example the Headman to the Oracle is showing,” the Ifa priest said to the Ishu priest.

  “Learn your customs thoroughly, young man. The King can kill anyone he likes so long as his high chiefs agree. I will see you again, young priest. Remember that the King sets the rules,” the Ishu priest said before disappearing.

  When Obi was back on his feet, the Ifa priest reported that the envoy had returned.

  “Why is it that it took them so long to come and get me?”

  “It never occurred to them until Okonjo informed them.”

  Once they reached the Okpala, envoy and general, Obi asked for an update.

  “Chief Atani gave me the impression he would come to battle without Suyema, but the lack of confidence in his voice proved he was lying,’’ Sagbe said. “He said he, too, was going to attack tomorrow by daylight and he killed the six Omees who went with me. He said it took only one man to deliver a message.”

  “Is there another way to Suyema without passing through Ozuoba?”

  “Yes, Sire, through the river,” the envoy replied.

  “As I said before, two battalions are going to battle while the others stay and protect the province. Nobody will know we have gone to battle from Suyema. The war songs will start by daybreak and the general will go to battle at the border where everyone can see him.” Obi faced the Envoy again. “Do people always follow this way?”

  “No, Sire, it’s only the fishermen who use the route.”

  Obi told the general to prepare the battalions that were under him to move out immediately and silently. He also discharged the Okpala, leaving the envoy.

  “What did he say?” Obi asked. The envoy looked at the Ifa priest.

  “You can say anything about me in front of him,” Obi assured him.

  “He said nothing when I told him and he walked away from me.”

  “You should go and prepare. You are going with us.”

  The envoy nodded and left.

  When Obi was prepared for battle and about to leave his Haku, the Ifa priest held him by the shoulder and said, “Your father…Ifeanyi taught you well.”

  Chapter 10

  King Nwosa paced around his palace like a beast running from his prey. When his messenger arrived, he screamed at him. “Where are they?”

  “Your Majesty, this is the middle of the night; they were asleep, but they are on the way. You are bothering yourself too much,” the messenger replied.

  “Okay, they have gotten to you.”

  “I don’t understand you, Your Majesty.”

  “Well, I understand you. You have joined them to try to assassinate me.”

  “Your Majesty, I really am not getting you.”

  “Shut up, how dare you call me Your Majesty when you plan to stab me in the back and let me rot like manure on the earth?”

  “But—”

  “Don’t but me. You think I could not smell your hypocrisy from the end of the capital?” The King called two of his Omees. “Take this disgusting excuse for a servant and make him die slowly.”

  “But Your Majesty, I have done nothing wrong!” the messenger screamed.

  As he was carried away, Arubi entered the palace.

  “Do you realize this is the fifth messenger you have killed this period?”

  “They are traitors, all of them. I could see it in their eyes, they all want to become King,” he said, using both hands to scratch his head. “This son of mine thinks he can destroy me, King Nwosa, the son of Burobee. He is a dreamer. From now on, Arubi, I want you here at all times and—”

  He stopped his tirade when he saw the envoy and the general.

  “I think I should bow to you great men for making you come here faster than you should have.”

  “We were with you throughout the night,” the envoy said.

  “So you are ready for me now. They have sent you to face me eyeball to eyeball,” the King said, pounding his chest.

  “No, Your Majesty, what the envoy was trying to tell you was that he was with your words in his thoughts all night. Is that right envoy?” the Head-of-Government asked.

  “Yes, Your Majesty, that was what I meant,” the envoy said hesitantly.

  The King did not sit on his throne; instead, he sat on the floor and rocked back and forth in an excited manner.

  “So what is the…situation again?”

  “I already told you earlier on,” the envoy said.

  “He wants to know again,’’ Arubi screamed. “Even if he asks you a thousand times, you answer a thousand times.”

  “Okon and Gbangba have publicly denounced you and they both intend on attacking us from different directions,’’ the envoy answered. “Ihua did not choose sides but he is going to war with Ike, whom we are sure is with the kingdom. So Ihua is against us. Obi is attacking Atani today, but he is unaware that Suyema Province is backing them up. Akuna and Ezeonisha are both going to war and they both claim to be fighting for you. Till this very day none of them have set a date for battle.”

  As the envoy finished he looked at the King, who did not seem to hear a word he had said while rubbing his hand on the ground.

  “All right, men, thank you for coming. We will meet again in the morning,” Arubi said.

  The two men did not bother to bow to the King as they left, highly irritated at being disturbed for nothing. When they had all gone, Arubi grabbed the King and raised him to his feet.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “I have not been able to sleep or eat. I keep seeing that witch of a woman called Aneaton whenever I close my eyes,” the King stammered, still rocking. “There is no point denying it—her son is coming to kill me and feed my flesh to the worms. I knew it was my son from the first time I heard her name again.”

  The King fell on his knees and sobbed.

  “I did not want to kill her. I don’t know why that stupid Ogun priest had to kill her. I always cared for her. I don’t want to die. I really don’t want to die.”

  Arubi again pulled him to his feet and warmed his face with a thudding slap.

  “Look at you. You call yourself a King and you are scared b
ecause you are having bad dreams. Listen to me: This is one war we are going to win. Now stand like a King. Do you know what great men would do to be in your position right now?”

  King Nwosa dusted himself, and looked the Head-of-Government in the eye.

  “As King of Didasu, I accept the boy as my son, my heir, as I have seen he will be a better King than I.”

  “I am sorry, Your Majesty, that cannot happen. The boy is a criminal and that is the way he will remain. Why don’t you sleep and you will wake up with your thought tuned properly.”

  “I have made my decision, Arubi, and so shall it stand,” the King replied, still looking him in the eye.

  Arubi looked down, raised his head back up, then said, “It has been a pleasure working with you, Sire.”

  Arubi pulled his sword and stabbed the King, and then immediately stuck his hand into his mouth so the King could not utter a word. As King Nwosa was dying, he looked Arubi in the eyes and Arubi looked back at him.

  When Nwosa was dead, the Ishu priest appeared, watching the Head-of-Government drag the King to his bedroom.

  “What took you so long before you killed him?”

  “It’s that limiting word called honor. Don’t just stand there, help me before someone comes,” the Head-of-Government said to the Ishu priest.

  As they were moving the body, Arubi told the Ishu priest that the Ifa priest was protecting the son.

  “I thought he was dead.”

  “He is, but he has a successor.”

  “He should not be a problem,” the Ishu priest said. “In the strength of these words, he is good.”

  “That is your problem, not mine.”

  “You don’t have to worry. As long as I live, nothing can touch you.”

  “If I remember properly, those were the same words you told King Nwosa when he was alive.”

  The Ishu priest did not say anything else before he left.

  After they finished clearing any trace of the assassination, the Head-of-Government told the King’s personal guards never to disturb the King again or let anyone make contact with him, except through Arubi. The men were happy with the news because they were already unable to bear anymore of the King’s actions. Arubi made them feel special by telling them the King was sick and they should keep it to themselves.

  Akuna of Ogwashi and Ezeonisha of Abogima had agreed to meet on their boundaries for a dialogue. Such actions did not mean they wanted to settle. Most times chiefs came together in such areas to discuss the days that would be convenient for both provinces to go to battle. They were also there to warn off the other province and, on rare occasions, they came together when one of the provinces wanted to beg privately. In such circumstances, both chiefs had to have respect for the other’s honor or else an arrow could come from any direction. As much as both chiefs gave the impression of respect, they took three-quarters of their army with them. The chiefs stood at different ends of the border with intense looks in their eyes. The expressions on their faces screamed blood.

  Akuna’s envoy told him not to agree on any date before the tenth, so their spies would give them better insight for their province. Ezeonisha’s envoy told his chief the same thing, except he said they would be prepared after seven days.

  The two chiefs walked toward each other alone. The Omees at both ends had drawn their swords, ready for anything. Only the sandy ground and blue sky witnessed them. When the chiefs met, they took a pace past each other and turned their backs to each other’s province—a move intended to show their honorable motives. All the Omees wondered what the chiefs were saying because they were too far away to be heard by anyone.

  “Ezeonisha, you are looking well,” Akuna commented.

  “See who is talking. You have immortality written all over you,” Ezeonisha replied.

  “So how are the wives, children and concubines?” Akuna asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Stop trying to make me laugh. My men are watching me.”

  “Okay, Ezeonisha, I know you arranged this meeting to beg for mercy before I crush your province.”

  “Akuna, I think you have been inhaling that grass in your province. You and I know that you are the one afraid to set a date for battle.”

  “I have never met an ungrateful man like you. I let your people feel the breeze of freedom and you are here telling me that I am afraid of you.”

  “If that be the case, Akuna, set a date—today, tomorrow, or even now.”

  “Why should I set a date? Why don’t you set a date?”

  “I am not setting a date. I asked you first.”

  “Thank goodness our men are not here to hear us talking like children.”

  “Let us open the bottom of the ass. I do not want to go to war unless I have to.”

  “Honestly, I was looking for a way to tell you the same thing all this time. Why do you think I never suggested a date?”

  “So are you really with the King?”

  “That is a private question. Are you?”

  “ Am I what?” Ezeonisha asked.

  “Are you with the King?”

  “I am not exactly with anybody. Let’s just say I am with both of them.”

  “That’s quite a heavy piece of information you just shared.”

  “I did not have a choice, Akuna, because whatever decision we make here has to end up with us fighting each other or forming an alliance.”

  “What do you suggest we do?”

  “We have two choices: We either join this Nwosa’s son, who has Gbangba, Okon, Ihua and the people of Utagba, or we join Nwosa and the rest.”

  “What if we keep delaying both parties until we are sure who the winning team is?”

  “Take it from me, the winning team will not hesitate to attack us once they put their feet on the ground.”

  Both men spoke with a hardened look on their faces, giving their men the impression they were threatening each other. Akuna lowered his voice as he spoke, even though only Ezeonisha could hear him.

  “I heard that Nwosa is getting mad and Arubi is now in full control.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Ezeonisha asked.

  “Positive. So do we join King Nwosa as Arubi is in full control?”

  “I don’t know. I am beginning to feel suspicious about Arubi’s situation. The last time the King's envoy came to my province, it was as though Arubi was politely asking me to join him.”

  “Yes, they approached me in the same way,” Akuna said, still whispering.

  “I have served him before and one thing is for sure, Arubi never begs.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  “We join the winning movement, the prince,” Ezeonisha responded.

  “I have a problem with that selection because we don’t really know the boy and there isn’t any chance of the boy making me his Head-of-Government.”

  “You are truly a dreamer. You expect Arubi to let you take his place? That man is capable of killing even the King if he stands in the way of his power.”

  “So we are going to join the prince?”

  “To death.”

  “Then to death we will follow our prince,” Akuna said.

  “But you are lucky it’s not my province you are at war with.”

  “It’s not too late. We can still go on with the former plan we had.”

  Both men laughed and they made it obvious for their men to see. The cheer from the Omees at both ends was a sign of concordance with their chiefs’ decision. Both chiefs went back to their men and screamed all hail the prince. Not a single man from either side replied. There was dead silence and the look of amazement in their faces. They were all positive they were fighting for the King. Neither chief expected this response. It was as though, when they were conversing, a conspiracy was in the works.

  Ezeonisha shouted again, “All hail the prince.” There was suddenly a loud response from the Omees in the two provinces in honor of the future king.

  Chapter 11

  Vokei took only one bat
talion and left the other three behind. The Omees were all dressed for battle, with shells over their clothes, bow and arrows tied to their backs, swords at their sides, oval bronze shields in their hands, and scabbards tied around their waists. The commoners came out and danced to the beats of the drummer and the songs of the piper. During this short celebration, women with husbands mourned them in their presence; a woman never expected her husband to come back alive from battle, even though she was positive they were going to win. It made them prepared for the worst.

  As they marched into the battlefront, the men divided themselves. The Omees who were very good at archery were placed in front; the next batch were armed with sharp double-pointed spears; and the last batch fought with their swords. These wars were carried out on foot, following the patterns of their ancestors who didn’t have the luxury of horses.

  When Vokei got to the battlefront—blanketed with dead leaves and hard rocks, and not a tree in sight—to his amazement he saw only Odagwe and the Ozuoba army. A smile crossed his face. He wondered what kind of coward would lead his men to battle and not be present. It was unusual for a chief not to come to battle. They normally did not fight, but their presence acted like a stimulant to the men. Vokei saw his adversaries and was sure they would not need reinforcement.

  The piper in Ozuoba blew the horn for them to attack and the battle began. It started with the flight of arrows in both directions, then long distance confrontations with double-edge spears. The last group of Omees had not even attacked yet and they seemed to be winning. Vokei was exceptionally good with the double-edge spear and all the men who got in his way had a trip to death.

  Odagwe was ruthless with the sword and he was the strong point for Ozuoba. His tactics in battle were different and lethal. When he saw they were losing, he signaled his piper who blew the horn and from everywhere they came.

  Ebikela did not know his mouth was open.

  The chiefs of Suyema and Ozuba appeared with the general, Shalebe, and the remaining troops. It was as though there was a pause in the battle. Everyone knew that Suyema had a powerful army, but these troops were five times greater than what the Omees in Utagba imagined.