Page 27 of Wrath of the Oracle

“You seem to be certain about that.” After a long gaze, Leikun resumed untying the knots. “Don’t worry about my business. This isn’t the first storm I’ve weathered.”

“You won’t have to live in the shadows when I become king,” Gane said and Leikun squeezed his unharmed shoulder, holding his gaze in the mirror.

“No promises, Gane… remember?” Leikun helped Gane remove the coat and set it on the chair. The golden lining shone in the table lantern. He moved back and sat on a stool in the middle of the room and folded his lean arms before him. Gane flexed his shoulders back to ease the tension before he joined Leikun at the table.

“Well…” Leikun raised his eyebrows. He waited for Gane to tell him why he was summoned to the capital.

“You have an extensive chain of informants. I need to know where the Dembe Southern Army camp is located. My men haven’t been successful in locating Ojore and his soldiers.” Gane furrowed his brows in concentration. “How can a large army hide without a trace?”

“Is that all?” Leikun raised his red-painted eyebrows.

“For now.” Gane sat back and smiled at the frown on Leikun’s face.

Gane worked in secrecy and rarely gave Leikun full information about his dealings. Leikun hated it, but Gane wasn’t one to put all his eggs in one basket. Since their deals always proved to be lucrative, the bandit didn’t ask many questions. That was how they managed to stay in partnership. Leikun only needed to know what was necessary.This was also a way to protect him in case something went wrong with the plans.

”You can get your men to pass the information on to me. That can’t be the only reason you called me here.” Leikun leaned on the small table and pierced Gane with a narrowed gaze. Gane found himself leaning forward, too.

“Stay away from the Keseve Market and its environs in the upcoming days, but it seems you are aware of what’s happening.” Gane gazed at Leikun’s weapon, a large black spear strapped to his back. The bandit carried other weapons hidden beneath his clothes.

“Right.” Leikun stood up and pulled on his mask. He walked toward the window, but Gane grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“Take this.” Gane passed the medicine Sholei gave him to Leikun. “Her medicine works wonders on poison. In case of another wound like this.”

“You need it more than me.” Leikun looked at the vial before he turned his gaze to Gane.

“Take it.” Gane pressed the flask in Gane’s hand. “Send a message when you have something to report.”

Leikun clasped Gane’s forearm one final time before he jumped out the window into the inky black night.

Gane watched him go, a wistful smile on his lips.

In the following days, Sholei felt the effects of war.

Wounded men from the front line were transported back to the army camp with various injuries. The medicine camp overflowed, and she couldn’t stand back without helping. She felt conflicted about assisting Mukuru’s enemies but couldn’t deny the Imperial Physician needed help. He was overwhelmed by the number of wounded men.

Under Litonde’s guidance, she marshaled Mueni and several other soldiers to help. She categorized the soldiers’ injuries and the order to be treated. She requested more supplies, which Litonde provided with few questions. Somehow, he allowed her free rein at the campsite.

It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time to work under an Imperial Physician. Sholei wasn’t usedto supervising such a large number of people, but she couldn’t ignore the watchful gaze of guards who followed all her actions. The medicine yard in Mukuru capital wasn’t that big or active. The camp was well supplied with every material she needed, unlike the medicine yard where she went out and sourced herbs.

“I can see why the general did everything possible to bring you back alive,” Litonde said, as he handed her pieces of white fabric to act as bandages. Since Litonde was someone Sholei worshipped, she jumped at his every word, eager to please him. His praises lifted her spirit more than anything. His title as an Imperial Physician showed in his excellent skills. Besides, he listened to Sholei and guided her on different ways to prepare medicine and deal with the sick. While Musembi scolded her whenever she made a mistake, Litonde was patient in his guidance.

In the days Sholei spent by Litonde’s side, she told him about how she encountered Ojore. She figured she needed a confidant to help when the need arose, though Sholei didn’t think she could count on him; the Imperial Physician admired his general and spoke very highly of the man.

“He’s the one who stabbed me. How can he be my killer and savior at the same time?” Sholei wrapped a bandage around the soldier who passed out in front of her. He sported a deep cut on the side of his head. Half of his face was swollen, and Sholei doubted if he could see.

“Things are not always what they seem. Maybe he’s planning to give you another life. A better one,” Litonde said, and Sholei gazed at him from underneath her lashes.She suspected the older man seemed to be on a mission to help Sholei blend into her new situation.

“There was nothing wrong with the way I lived before,” Sholei said. Her life in Mukuru wasn’t perfect, but she didn’t hate it either. She enjoyed being a physician despite everything Musembi put her through. She missed Tula and the medicine yard.

“Sometimes we must focus on what is ahead and not on our past.” Litonde helped another soldier lie down.

“What if the future is darker than the past?” Sholei walked past beds full of men with various forms of injuries. She washed her hands before she handled another patient. Musembi’s sanitation lessons stuck with her, and Sholei wondered when she would see the old woman again.

“You can’t always judge people by what you see, young one.” Litonde’s tone was somber, his words carrying heavy meaning. Sholei didn’t press for more information when he didn’t explain himself. She understood him more than she could explain, being an outcast too.

“My Lady, a soldier is vomiting blood.” Mueni hurried to her side and wiped her brow. Sholei rushed to check on the patient.

“Stay away.” The wounded man pushed her away and clutched his stomach. His lips were coated with blood. “You are from Mukuru. How can I trust you to cure me?”

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