Page 30 of Wrath of the Oracle

“That is true. They can’t break through the gates,” another one chipped in. “But at what cost, the lives of our men?”

“To retreat does not mean one is surrendering. Sometimes retreating is a sign of advance.” Gane curled his hands into fists on the table holding the map. A good number of their men died outside the gate; the coppery smell of blood hadn’t receded from the air after the carnage of the previous day.

“It is true. We can’t be too sure. Remember, they have camped outside the gates,” the general commanding Iranda’s city army commented, his brows furrowed. “How many casualties did we suffer versus them?”

“They are counting on us to be complacent before they attack with a final blow. Ojore is known for his brutality, and I fear what we have witnessed it is only a small demonstration. His army is the largest in the region. Even with our combined forces, we are yet to be his equal. Wefought against him, but he remains steadfast as we dwindle in numbers.”

A murmur broke through the crowd, and the mood in the room dropped into a suspenseful tension.

“What would we do if he captures Keseve?” the quiet general from Lwala city asked. He leaned against a wood post. There was silence before the general continued, “We all know they will come for our cities after this.”

“That is why we must be steadfast in the alliance. We can’t afford to break up. Our unity will prove to be our strongest weapon.” Each city in the alliance bore differences with each other, and if, by chance, they lost Keseve, the shaky foundation of their coalition would be threatened.

“Prince Gane is right.” The Iranda army general patted Gane on the back. “If we lose Keseve, we must protect our kingdom from attacks. We should prepare for it. A messenger should be sent to warn our people of the impending danger. By preparing for any outcome, we can secure our homes.”

The men nodded their heads in agreement.

After final touches on the plans to enhance security, they left the room to retell the meeting proceedings to their subordinates. One of Gane’s spies appeared inside his makeshift quarters.

“Did you manage to send out my message?” he asked the man who bowed before him.

“Yes, my lord. We will have our answer very soon.”

“We must take advantage of Ojore’s time on the battlefield to get our message through. Remember to be cautious.”

With a nod, the soldier slunk back into the darkness.

Sholei wiped the sweat from her forehead as she secured the bandage on the injured soldier’s arm. He winced in pain and avoided her eyes. After the confrontation a few days ago, they reluctantly turned to her for medication. Her treatments worked fast, and it didn’t take long before the injured were cured. Her potions and pastes worked like magic, and word spread through the camp of the miraculous physician with the gifted hands.

The curious looks she received turned to tenuous admiration and respect. Under Litonde’s guidance, she worked hard to patch up the wounded men.

“You are a natural talent. With one single trial, you’ll be admitted to the Academy,” Litonde said, and Sholei’s heart leaped. Litonde praised her skills and regaled her with tales of the formidable Imperial Physicians.

Sholei recalled where she was and sighed. She gauged the war’s progress by the injured men. The Dembe army increased their assault, and soon they would take over Keseve. The wounded soldiers talked of the alliance’s many causalities, and Sholei felt her head swim at the thought of her people killed. Even the tales of the Academy didn’t hold her interest anymore.

One thing she picked up from their talks was their admiration of their general’s brilliance and courage in the war. He commanded the respect of his men, and they wouldn’t hesitate to die for him.

She hated herself for helping the enemy, but she could not stand to see them suffer in her presence. Musembi always said the role of a physician wasn’t to judge who was wrong or right. To Sholei’s surprise, the lessons stuck. The injured men in the medical camp were only following orders.

“With my recommendation, you can get into the academy. I can help if you want,” Litonde’s voice dragged her back to the present, and the bandage in Sholei’s hand dropped on the table amidst dried herbs.

“You can help me get admission to the Imperial Physicians’ Academy?” Sholei breathed the words out, and her hands trembled.

“Your good fortune led you to meet the general and me. You have good skills, and with some guidance, you can be the best student produced by the Academy in recent years.” Litonde grinned at her reaction.

“How is that possible?” Sholei asked when realization set in. Litonde offered her something she had dreamed offor years. “What do you want in return?” Nothing in her life came easy.

“Your skills will benefit many people. Isn’t that what every physician wants?” Litonde shrugged his shoulders, and Sholei held his gaze. “As a previous student, I can recommend you to the Academy. The head priest will accept your admission. You will undergo a test, but with your skills, I doubt you will fail.”

“Is that possible?” Sholei couldn’t believe her luck. But then she recalled Musembi and Tula back in Mukuru. Could she leave without saying goodbye? Would another chance present itself if she missed the opportunity Litonde offered?

“After the war, I can send you off. With the general’s permission, I am sure he’ll let you go,” Litonde said. “He’s a good man. He saved me from a certain death.”

Litonde had a dark history, and Sholei learned snippets when his tongue slipped. He claimed that the general had saved him from the jaws of death and gave him a second chance.

She was about to answer before Mueni bustled in. “My Lady, we have news from the frontline.” Sholei swallowed and dreaded what she would hear next.

“The Dembe army managed to capture the Keseve Market.” Mueni’s voice was withdrawn. “The general has started his journey back.”

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