The Legend Of Dayo…

AARON ANSAH-AGYEMAN

THE LEGEND OF DAYO

SEASON 4: THE FATHER

CHAPTER 10

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“A decision was taken by the remaining Keepers in your absence, Commander!” Daniel Godwin said disdainfully and with hatred. “Since you have shown a clear and marked preference for Temidayo, and taken sides in a matter that called for neutrality, we find you no longer competent to lead the great army of Dayo, and I certainly would not want you as my Army Commander when I become king. And so, as we wait for the one month to elapse, I have the preference for Ziloux Escobar Adeyeye as my new Commander! You’re therefore demoted, Prosper Freeman, to an ordinary Class Warrior.”

Prosper promptly ripped off the metallic braids and rank plate of an Army Commander from his Warrior’s Uniform and threw them at Daniel Godwin’s feet.

“You’re right, Daniel Godwin, I’m biased, and I have no intention of serving you should you become king!” he hissed angrily. “I’m no longer a part of the Dayan Army from henceforth!”

“Prosper, please calm down!” Ayaka Nsugbe said with evident unhappiness. “We have a fight on our hands! We need your experience and depth, please. Dayo first, the Homeland always comes first, remember? You’re still a member of the Keepers!”

Prosper Freeman pinned the Chairman of the Keepers with a baleful look.

“You disappoint me, Ayaka,” he said coldly. “You sorely disappoint me!”

“Well, if that is so, then let it be so,” Walexman Olawale said as he ripped off his warrior plate and threw it on the ground. “I serve only Commander Freeman. If he is no longer a part of this army, then I am also no part of it. I’m now a civilian, ordinary floor citizen from henceforth!”

He unbuckled his sword and threw it down.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, stop this!” Ayaka Nsugbe cried with mounting horror. “Our ranks have already been decimated! We need more troops! You must put the future of Dayo first!”

Mickey King had already removed his armour plate and unbuckled his sword.

“I bleed only for Commander Prosper,” he said as he threw them on the ground. “And I won’t ride with you, Prince Daniel.”

“Is that so?” Daniel Godwin roared with fury.

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“That is so,” Mickey King said with a smile. “I ain’t riding with you, boss.”

“So be it!” Daniel Godwin roared. “The Temidayo you are putting allegiance in is dead! Do you hear me? He is dead! Any one of you who abandons this army, count yourself as a traitor! When Dayo is redeemed, and I rule as king, you will all be imprisoned for this mutiny, and for abandoning your ruler! Do you hear me? You will receive great punishments for this!”

For a moment there was a static silence filled with fear, but Walexman Olawale chuckled and walked away after Prosper Freeman.

“So be it, Your Majesty,” Mickey King said, and also walked away.

And then it happened.

One by one the warriors of Number 6 Company got down, ripped off their plates, and put down their swords and walked away.

Daniel Godwin looked on, absolutely flummoxed.

The Keepers gathered and watched with mounting horror.

“Daniel Godwin decimates the army!” Olabode whispered with fear. “The real kings of Dayo always inspired love among the army! They never divided the warriors!”

“It will be in your own interest to shut up, Olabode,” Ayaka Nsugbe said softly.

Rose Amaefule watched from the fringes of the circle of warriors.

Slowly she lowered her bow and removed the arrow which she returned to its pouch at her back. She turned and pushed her way through the throng of warriors, moving toward the back until she was clear of them, and then she began to run blindly.

She ran down the paths until she got to the barracks, went up the female section and entered her cabin. Rose shut the door, locked it, and then she began to fly out of her warrior’s armour with fast agitated movements.

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Naked, she padded to the bathroom where a cold bath had been drawn into the wooden tub. Rose entered the tub and slipped completely underneath the cold, perfumed water.

After five minutes she slowly emerged, and as she gasped for breath she suddenly began to weep softly. Her shoulders shook as she gripped the edge of the bath and the tears rocked her body hard.

Prosper had returned without Temi…not even a tiny scrap of flesh!

Temi was dead, maybe chewed to the bone by the White Kombas!

It was one thing planning a murder, and it was another thing carrying it out! She had helped in the death of an innocent boy, and now his blood was on her hands too.

“I’m so sorry, Temi!” Rose whispered as she wept pathetically. “Oh, dear Ancestors…please forgive me, forgive me! Oh, Temi, Temi, Temi!”

***

Nneka Okez stood near the bed and looked down at the handsome prince.

She had to admit to herself that indeed, he was the finest specimen of a man she had ever seen. But that didn’t mean that she had any feelings for him, no. There was no doubt that he was like all men, only seeking for one thing and one thing only!

Men were beasts, and only one man was an angel, her Moshood, who had shown her love and gentleness, who had stood by her side and protected her in her times of great strife, and never for once abandoning her until death laid its icy fingers on him!

She knew men by the looks in their eyes, lecherous looks that stripped her bare, wanting only to get between her thighs…and then there was the look that had been in Moshood’s eyes, not of lust, but of worship, of adoration, and of love!

Oh, Mosh…how I miss you!

And then, of course, there was this prince!

Sometimes he looked at her, and his eyes did strip her, but not like the mad way that beast of a man, Chinua Joshua, used to look at her.

And yet, this prince never spoke or acted like Chinua, even though she had been forced to lie next to him.

But why was she getting confused about this prince anyway?

For one thing, she was older than he was, and a widow at that!

The kings and princes of the great Dayo Empire had the best of women to please them. Young, beautiful sweet little virgins were no doubt being brought up for this prince, and so she shouldn’t even entertain the flimsiest of ideas about him.

It was not like she wanted him, no.

She would never want any other man but her Moshood, although he was dead, but she would be committed to him forever, and remain by his side for eternity.

But she wished this prince would get well.

She had been washing near the waterfall when she had seen his body on the rocks, gored hideously in both legs and in his heart. She had thought him dead, but when she drew near him he had moaned weakly, and she knew she had to help him.

Getting him to the house had been a really great challenge.

She had cleaned his wounds as best as she could, and had then tied some of her clean clothes around his upper thighs, then she had hooked clothes under his arm and dragged him across the ground, a little at a time, to her house.

At first, she had used a hot cutlass to cauterize the wounds, and thankfully he had lost too much blood and was so delirious that he had barely felt the searing pain, although he had moaned in a most pitiful way.

The wound in his chest had been a knife wound, no doubt caused by another man. The gashing fracture in his left leg had also been caused by a sword, and by a human being.

The other wound had jagged edges, and she recognized it as the horrible knife-claws of the White Komba.

So, human beings had tried to murder this stranger and left him for dead for the White Kombas to finish off. Nneka Okez had been afraid that he might be a criminal, but much against her will, she had done the best she could for him.

And here he was, still fighting for his life!

What was the history behind this boy?

What callous people had tried to murder him? Who had dared to kill a prince of Dayo?

How she wished that hooded entity had given her more details about this boy, but alas, none had been forthcoming.

She sat down gently beside him, and then she reached out and touched his hollowed-out cheeks gently. He was famished, weak and so thirsty, now almost in a delirious coma all the time, and yet he lived on, fought on and refused to give in.

She had to admit that this young prince of Dayo was indeed a tenacious man, a man with a hard spirit.

“Get well, Temi,” she whispered gently. “Please, get well.”

She gently took his hand and gasped suddenly when his fingers curled around hers and gripped her hand warmly.

She looked at him to see if he had woken up, but he was still out.

Sighing greatly, she covered their linked hands with her free one and sat staring at his face for a long time.

His brow was furrowed in a slight scowl, and she knew he was at that strange psychic place again, yes, with someone, the one Jhon Moziz had asked Temi to say sorry to…Temidayo’s father!

“Find strength from your father, Temi,” she whispered gently. “And come back. I want you back.”

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