When Gods Bleed

by Njedeh Anthony

  The boy got up and stuck his tongue out to the warrior. With anger for the child’s unrepentant response, the Omee used his large palm and struck him again on his face. This time the boy landed on his back and slid on the floor. The boy shed the kind of tears that came from a mature man, but a sound did not come from his mouth. He got up again and pointed the knife at the Omee.

  “I am so scared. The boy has a knife and wants to kill me,” the Omee said.

  Everyone laughed.

  There was a burning look in the boy's eyes, then all of a sudden he started laughing and everyone else stopped. He took the knife and cut his own hand, still laughing. Then he turned in circles.

  The Omees watched the apparently possessed child with a combination of pity and fear. An Omee was trained to face anything physical, but anything of a spiritual nature always scared them. They tried not to walk out of the house too quickly, or else rumors would spread that they ran from a child.

  His stepfather, with the last paternal strength in him, said to the boy after the Omees had quickly walked away, “It’s time for you to go to bed.”

  To his amazement, the boy went to bed with blood dripping from his hand. From that day he watched every word he spoke to the child. As the boy went to bed with finger marks on his face, he was impressed with the act he had pulled. He re-enacted how he saw a possessed girl turn in that cyclic manner when he went to the market with his mother.

  In the dead of the night while the young Otutrex pretended to sleep, someone woke him up. The man untied the cloth around his palm to show a bleeding hole and then took the boy’s hand that was bleeding and merged their blood together. With a final glance he disappeared into the night.

  To imagine that the man he helped was the King—King Obi.

  *

  “Otuturex the Conqueror!”

  “Who is that man who calls my name and stands on his feet?”

  “ It is I.” Ihua banged his chest with his fist. “Ihua of Ahoda.”

  “The Immortal, you stand firmer than I.”

  “Stop flattering me. I am an old man.”

  “You insult the ancestors that a man with such juvenile vitality calls himself old.”

  “Anyway, how are your people?”

  “They are all fine. I hear that the immortal is still expanding.”

  The stupid pompous fool could not even wait till we finished with the matters of our beloved King before stylishly bringing up the issue of his third wife’s village. I thought he said she was a witch.

  “Forget all that rubbish people are saying. We are still a small province, but it doesn't stop any of these ambitious warriors from wanting to take my chieftaincy title from me. Do they realize what it is to kill a rhinoceros with your bare hands?”

  This old monkey is beginning to cross the line. Prove to me that you have four heads to speak what dangles in your mind. Let me polish your skull with my sword, the younger chief thought.

  “I have a couple of them in my province, men who dip their hands in fire knowing what the pain feels like, but wanting a possession that they cannot afford to handle.”

  This fool is getting on my nerves. I should bend him down and give him twenty lashes from a tangerine cane. He is lucky he came to the capital as though they called him for a battle, or else I would have dealt with his young blood. I should be careful though, if I say too much, they might decide to end me here.

  “Forgive me, I forgot to congratulate you on your new born son,” Ihua said with a rejuvenated smile on his face.

  Who does the old monkey think he can seduce with that kind of woman-talk? Does he care about his own children before asking about mine? If I were the old fool, I would have disappeared from the face of the earth. Apart from that, I am positive every other Chief has his eyes on the salt of his land. During the meeting I will publicly declare war on Ihua first, before someone else beats me to it… I am good at what I do.

  “Otuturex, are you okay? I inquired about your son and you were lost in thought.”

  “Please forgive me. It is just dawning to me that we lost a great King.”

  “Who has arrived?”

  “I really cannot see.” He tried peering down at the battalion. “But from this distance, the man carries the flamboyance of a peacock. It could be The Python.”

  Chapter 19

  The Python was Chief Odagwe of the Ekpona Hills. His province was the largest and estimated the strongest, and the inhabitants of his province were known for their heartlessness. When he was told the King was dead, he wondered why he was not filled with bliss instead of a slight trace of sorrow.

  Walking into the palace, passing the empty rooms and mourning faces, he thought, It is not as though I was ever in Obi’s favor.

  The ungrateful son-of-a-fool. I still remember how I saved the fool’s life in battle. My blood stretched through the fields of the lands he called his kingdom and what did he repay me with. When the war was over, he says to me with that evil grin, “Odagwe go straight forth to where the sun touches the end of my kingdom at the Ekpona Hills. Your province extends to that point to replace the land I have taken from you.”

  If I didn't have any respect for him, I would have spat in his face. But I, The Python, went to the end of Utagba and stretched its tentacles to areas over the hills, where men feared to step. I proliferated the kingdom into extensive power and what did I get in return—my taxes were increased over tenfold. Did I complain? No. Did I plan a coup? No. Instead he sent his despotic friend who exacerbates every inch of me to be my envoy. Imagine the conceited bastard having the audacity to think I did him wrong because he was the King. He took my sweet wine that came from the fruits of goodness away from me. The thought still pierces my heart till now, the satisfaction he derived from what was rightfully mine.

  Chief Odagwe surveyed the palace like an eagle seeking its prey. The farther into the palace he went, the more the environment disgusted him. He hadn’t seen any of the chiefs. Can you imagine this vagrant group of chiefs? They have not arrived. They are expecting me, The Python, to sweep the floor they will sit upon.

  “The Python of the Ekpona Hills,” Chief Ihua called out.

  “The Immortal of Ahoda,” Odagwe replied.

  “The feathers of your gayness radiated the skies before you arrived.”

  “If there was a man that had a sweeter tongue than yours, he hasn’t yet been born.”

  “You flatter an old man.”

  “Otuturex.”

  “Odagwe.”

  “They should have informed me that we were coming for battle and I could have brought my wives.”

  “Your sarcasm still grows with your age. They came to give sacrifice to the Okonta shrine.”

  “I wonder what is happening these days. The bat thinks he can see with the sun; now he tells me ‘my sarcasm grows with my age,’” Odagwe said in a resonant tone.

  “Do I tell a lie?” Otuturex asked.

  “You hide behind your legion of females who call themselves Omee. If I have to listen to another single note of disrespect coming from your arrogant lips, you will not see the next sunlight.”

  “I shiver with fear. Maybe the thought has sailed through your memory, but I am chief and that means there is nothing that walks and crawls on this earth that I pay allegiance to except my King. Even when I was an Omee, it was solely to my chief. So don’t think you can come over here, look me in the eye, and expect me to be mollified by anything you say.”

  “Remember what we came here for,” Ihua said.

  “Otuturex, I hope your blade is as sharp as your tongue.”

  “That is for you to find out.”

  As swift as a panther, Otuturex drew his sword. Odagwe stood wickedly looking at him. Both sets of Omees in the palace protecting their chiefs also pulled their swords. The entire scenario was just a show of ego. Otuturex wanted Odagwe to know he was mortal; the only blood that could drop in the palace had to be at the hands of the King.

  “Otuturex, that
will cost both of you two herds of cattle,” the Ifa priest said in a soft tone, appearing from behind the throne.

  High chiefs had the power to invoke an authority on any of the chiefs if they disobeyed any of the laws. The Ifa priest despised hedonism, as was expected from a man of his position. It was believed that he was ubiquitous, so people with abhorrent thoughts about the King always watched their tongues. Usually, in his free time, he did a little spiritualism with the dead. The slightest glimpse in his direction let him see into a person’s soul.

  All the chiefs had heard the same story of how he became the Ifa priest. They were told that before taking the place of his predecessor, he was ordered to hunt down and kill every single member of his lineage—men, women and children.

  At night he came in the form of an eagle and claimed those who fled. Some tried hiding under the protection of freelance warlocks. After he had killed everybody with direct contact to his bloodline, he took out a knife and removed his two eyeballs. He burnt them and gave them as sacrifice to the oracle. Myth or reality, none of the chiefs had heard any other version. One thing was for sure, with the blindness, nothing passed him.

  “The great Ifa, you should forgive my actions in your presence, but the puppy thinks he can bark like a dog,” Odagwe said stoically.

  “Ifa, even in your presence he called me a dog,” Otuturex responded, fuming.

  “But Ifa, I didn't see you come in through the door,” Ihua purred.

  All the chiefs looked at Ihua with disgust. Nobody ever knew where the Ifa priest appeared from and nobody ever asked. It was the Ifa priest’s way of telling them they had no secrets. Most times the King sent him to act as his personal hit man in case any of the chiefs stepped out of line, but for the King to kill a chief required an agreement from all the high chiefs. In order to prevent the perilous movement of a king’s or chief’s warlock, they always showed only their liege the loophole to their destruction.

  Ignoring Ihua, the Ifa priest said with the same indifferent manner, “I want them in the shrine after the coronation. Where are the other chiefs? Do they expect us to wait for the sun to go on holiday before they arrive?”

  “I thought the same thing myself when I arrived,” Odagwe said.

  This High Chief title is beginning to get to this aging ape’s head because Obi is dead, Odagwe thought. First I had to listen to this infant-born-yesterday insult me. Now this blind man is talking as though he is God. He is lucky I came for something that required my presence, or else—

  “I hope that they did not collide with an unfortunate accident,” Otuturex said with a suspicious stare at Odagwe.

  Then Chief Oludu came in and said, “What are we waiting for?” as though he was there all along.

  Oludu was average size, with small eyes and wide nostrils, a slim face and dreadlocks. Chief Oludu ruled over Ndemili with a subtle manner and a dangerous mind. His true self was incognito. When the King was alive, it was Oludu whom the Ifa priest said was not palpable. He gave an insouciant impression, thus no one really knew. He was the only chief in the past hundred years who took the position from his father.

  When Oludu was eleven, he went with some hunters in the forest. During their chase for their prey, they left him behind. By the time they returned he was in the same spot with a dead boar in his hand. Nobody ever asked him how he did it, not even his grandfather, the late Chief Okon.

  “Am I surrounded by men of respect who are supposed to lead men through the dark, or bats that don’t know the way home?” the Ifa priest exclaimed.

  As the Ifa priest spoke, Otuturex thought, He should know.

  In a flash the Ifa priest turned to Otuturex. “Or are my words too small to be heard, Otuturex?”

  “Only a fool would believe that your words are not strong enough to hold an ocean,” Otuturex grunted.

  “By the way, Chief Vacoura is on his way here. We were both held up by the muddy soil from the Choba Lake. His party was immediately behind ours,” Oludu said.

  “Correct yourself, Oludu, I am not on my way here. I am already here. The Great Ifa, The Immortal Ihua, Odagwe the Python, Otuturex the Conqueror, Oludu the Untouchable, men of the King’s court, I greet you all.”

  He gave them the traditional handshake, which involved the men hitting their hands sideways twice before a firm grasp at the elbow; Vacoura did so in order of age. The Ifa priest was exonerated from the chief’s handshake because only people of equal respect and those of lower authority participated.

  The Okpalaukwu entered the conference room unaided by anyone. Everyone rose and bowed to give respect, except the Headman to the Oracle who pretended not to notice him. Left to himself, the Okpalaukwu would have distributed a handshake, but he knew that liberty required him being at least ten years younger, so instead he just gave a slight wave as he was helped to sit down by his men.

  “Are we all here?” he asked.

  “The only people absent are the Head-of-Government and Chief Pokzee,” Ihua responded.

  “The Head-of-Government is with Queen Ifrareta. When we are all complete he will join us,” the Ifa priest said.

  So they don’t want to kill me after all, Otuturex thought.

  “So where is Pokzee?” Okpalaukwu asked.

  “I am here, Immovable Okpala of Utagba. I got held up by my in-laws. You know how these things happen,” he said, smiling.

  When he looked around, he realized he was the only person with a smirk on his face. He begrudging hailed chiefs Okpala, Ifa and Vacoura. He did not bother to greet any of the other chiefs because he wanted them to realize that they were of no use to him and, if they wanted to start a fire burning, he was ready. After the Akuna incident, he didn’t care what anybody thought.

  Chapter 20

  The tall, wide-shouldered, one-eyed Head-of-Government walked to a spot where everyone could see him and began to speak.

  “Now that we are all here, the egg can hatch. My fellow high chiefs, the chiefs of Utagba, it is my solemn duty as Head-of-Government of Utagba to address you men as our King is dead. The wing of the eagle has been cut down and it is time for it to grow another. We are all aware that there are two Hurdenes. Even our late King knew this would be. I am sure that you men are aware of the custom, but due to the etiquette of the land, I will repeat the laws governing the coronation.

  “For the coronation, only the chiefs are involved in the decision-making. You have from now until the eighty-second moonlight to tell us your unanimous decision. If, by any chance, a general conclusion is not reached by the six chiefs, you will all be executed, whilst we choose whomever we see fit. From now till the eighty-second day of the King’s death, you are kings in your land. Do not abuse the powers laid on you. When the goose hatches more than one egg, who are we to ask it why? If the same sky that wets us with waters from the heaven opens up and scorches us with rays from the sun, do we dare ask it why? Let me tell the tale now and leave the folksong for storytellers. There are two Hurdenes with qualified candidates for the succession and both of them are here to address you. The first will be Onyela, daughter of Imasuen, the palm wine tapper.”

  Odagwe smiled and made himself more comfortable as she came into the room. Onyela grew prettier as she grew older and the gracious aura was still with her. She knelt as she spoke.

  “Infallible high chiefs, I humbly come to address you, the great Chiefs of our time. With optimum respect I come to your presence.”

  “Rise and speak,” the Head-of-Government gestured to her with his hands. All the eyes of the seated men were on her.

  “Honorable men of the King’s court, I am in your distinguished presence in lieu of the apotheosis of our King. For men of your esteem and caliber, I apologize in repeating the customs of the land to you. We are all aware from the first time the sun touched this great kingdom of ours that the man to be King has to be the first prince accepted by the capital and kingdom. The prince I gave birth to belonged to me for only nine months and that was when I carried him in my belly
. Immediately after his eyes opened to the world, he belonged to the people of Utagba. He was raised fed, dressed and trained to be your King since he was born. This other child that is infected with a criminal’s blood—”

  “Watch your words, woman,” the Ifa priest reprimanded her.

  “Forgive me, oh great Ifa. My son may have seen only ten years of harvest, but his heart is that of a King. When the King first summoned me before I became his bride, I wondered what he would want from the daughter of a peasant and palm wine tapper. He asked me to cook for him and I was perplexed because he did not know me well enough to trust me with such a deed. When I had finished, he did not even ask his taster to taste the meal, he just started eating and asked me to join him. When he finished eating, he asked me if I would give birth to the next King. I said no because I was betrothed to another and he escorted me to where his guards were and told me he would continue asking every day until I got married to my betrothed. I went home with respect for a good King.”

  The grin in Odagwe's face had disappeared and at this point a very edgy feeling was tickling his spine. He knew that every chief would derive satisfaction from what she had to say. She is probably going to say it is because she knows I will never let her son be King as long as I am alive. Probably that is the reason she seeks my death. I am impressed.

  “I was under a force that was greater than I and then I knew it was my destiny to bear your King. The gods gave the King only two sons and from the two only one can be King. Search deep into your hearts without losing the slightest details because the choice you make does not only affect you men of the King’s house, but the commoners, peasants, women and children, not for now, but with the length of time.

  “Yesterday I was the daughter of a palm wine tapper. I could run in the fields of the earth and nobody would ask me why. Now I am Queen, and I have to watch what I say because people listen. I have to watch where I go because people follow. If my son is to become King, for the rest of his life he has to always look back, or else someone will be there, waiting for him. The problems of every single person in this kingdom will become his. He will not be able to hold his children like a father, but like a King. I am sure you wonder why I am here then. I chose to be Queen because it was my destiny and my son shall be King because it is his destiny. No matter how you try, you can never run away from your destiny.”