Page 51 of Wrath of the Oracle

She carried the food back to Ojore’s tent, her face cast in stone. Once outside the room, she took a deep breath and reminded herself that what she was about to do was necessary for Tula’s survival.

“You should have let someone else handle that,” Ojore commented as he watched her approach. He sat at the table with his arms folded on his chest, and his dark gaze shifted from her face to the plate on her hands. Sholei hoped the smile on her face would hide her anxiety.

“I wanted to serve you in person,” she replied and placed the platter down before he took a seat on the opposite stool.

“Did you prepare this by yourself?” Ojore examined the display.

“I am a pretty decent cook. Have a taste.” Sholei picked a drumstick and offered it to him. A watery smile danced on her lips as she tried to cover her deception.

“Why are your hands shaking?” he asked, his suspicion evident as he leaned on the table. “Did you poison the food?” His question sent her heart plummeting. Caught. Without breaking her gaze, he used his left hand to pull her seat close to his—the scrape against the floor grated in her ears.

“I wouldn’t dream of harming you.” The lie came through. “I’ll take a bite first.” She proceeded to take a mouthful of the chicken flesh and chewed away.

“If I were to perish, I wouldn’t object to die by your hands.”

He gripped her wrist and fed himself the remaining flesh from the drumstick. He didn’t break from her gaze. Sholei witnessed him swallow with a heavy heart. She had successfully carried out her mission, and there was no turning back. It didn’t matter the amount of poison he consumed; he would be knocked out cold soon after.

“Ever since I was young, I learned the intricacies of various medicines,” Sholei began, her tone even. “Do you know what happens when you become well-versed in healing the human body?”

“Enlighten me,” Ojore prompted her, he didn’t release her wrist.

He tugged the bare bone from her fingers with his teeth and dropped it on the table. He licked her fingers with his tongue, warm and moist, as he lapped up theremaining juices from her soft skin. Sholei’s breath labored as, one by one, her fingers disappeared into his mouth. His warm breath fanned her skin and soared her pulse to new levels.

“You learn how fragile a human is. A well-placed jab and a strong soldier is completely incapacitated.” Sholei said and in an instant Ojore’s hold on her weakened. The poison took effect.

“Are you implying something?” Ojore’s eyes grew heavier. He tried to stay alert, but the drug was already in his body.

“Poison-making is a craft intertwined with the preparation of healing potions,” Sholei explained. Her voice was low and monotonous, emotions wrung out of her.

“You did poison the food!” Ojore chuckled before he slumped against the table. His eyes drifted open and closed, betrayal and anger swirling in the dark depths.

“If I wanted to end your life, you would have met your fate already,” Sholei whispered in his ear. “Just like you, I can choose who lives and dies.”

Ojore grasped her hands. “You… have learned to be ruthless just to get away from me?” he whispered as he shook his head to dispel the sleep.

“I learned from the best.”

“I… could be your… everything if you allowed me, Sholei. I could give you the whole world.” He stammered and stumbled into her, his weight toppling them over. She landed on the thick carpet as his body hovered over hers. His steely arms trembled at his sides as he tried not to pin her with his weight.

“I never wanted what you offered,” Sholei’s voice broke. Seeing him in such a state tore at her heart. Ojore, once mighty and strong, now struggled to hold himself up.

“Is this… how I meet my end?” he asked, his laughter hollow and strained. Sholei tucked an errant lock behind his ear as the bright glow in his eyes dimmed.

“Rest now, my lord,” Sholei whispered. “When you awake, it will all be over.” She fought back tears and willed her heart to be strong. The pounding in her head returned, and it didn’t fade away as usual.

”There… is no place in this world where… you can hide from me… I will always find you.” Ojore’s voice grew fainter with each word. His eyes closed, his breath evened out, and his head fell on her shoulder.

Sholei released a muffled cry and the tears she held back flooded out.

As she lay beneath his body, Sholei wanted to scream to the night. Between betraying Ojore and saving her friend, she chose to rescue Tula and return to Mukuru. Her destiny with the general from Dembe’s southern army ran its course. If they ever crossed paths again, she hoped he would forgive her, but she wouldn’t blame him if he couldn’t.

Sholei eased herself from underneath Ojore and kissed his cool brow. She didn’t fully grasp why she did it, but part of her heart would forever remain with him. She drew his thick robes to his chin and her single tear dropped to his cheek.

Amid tears and a pounding headache, Sholei stumbled outside the room.

“Sholei,” Tula called as her best friend cut the ropes that bound her.

“We don’t have much time before they realize we are missing.” Sholei worked to wrap a heavy cloak around Tula’s threadbare shoulders—one of the luxurious items of clothing General Ojore supplied her.

---