Page 58 of Wrath of the Oracle

As she watched her comrades in desperate need of assistance, Tula turned her horse toward the battle. She couldn’t ride home without going for help. Anasi and Kweku might be the ones getting gored by the mindless animals. However, her impulsive decision proved ill-fated.The horse’s speed was too much, and Tula was thrown to the ground, where her head struck a protruding rock.

As she lay there bleeding, Tula observed Ojore sitting high on his horse, his face indifferent to the carnage around him. The flickering flames cast a sinister glint in his eyes, reminiscent of the predatory gaze of a lion on the hunt. The sight reminded her of her grandmother’s saying thatbehind a stampede, predators follow. General Ojore was a predator. Darkness enveloped her as she slipped into unconsciousness.

The stampede wreakedhavoc upon the camp where Gane and his men were stationed outside the Keseve Market. Gane’s plans didn’t stand a chance against the mindless wildebeests that charged toward them. His soldiers struggled to evade the animals’ horns, hooves, and teeth. Torches were toppled, and fire consumed everything around them. Above them, thunder rumbled, and lightning streaked the sky as though Ojore had summoned the wrath of the gods to consume them.

Gane watched in disbelief as the animals flung his men left and right. Behind the stampede, the Dembe soldiers charged, their weapons raised for battle.

Ojore, perched atop his jet-black stallion, seemed an extension of the night itself. His voluminous ebony cloak billowed from his broad shoulders, and his sword was coated with red blood, ever ready to strike down anyone who dared to charge toward him. In the chaos of battle, Ojore’s keen eyes caught sight of Gane and prompted him to veer his steed to confront his enemy.

A huge eagle screeched into the night. Its broad wings spread out and it hovered above Ojore.

“It’s a good day to die, isn’t it, Gane?” Ojore shouted as chaos engulfed them. Battle cries were uttered, men groaned, weapons clashed, and fire burned everywhere.

“I’ll never allow you to conquer my kingdom,” Gane declared and in the distance, thunder clapped. The eagle screeched again and flew into the dark clouds. The enraged skies reflected the dangerous look in Ojore’s eyes.

“You don’t have a say in the matter.” Ojore circled him. “Ask your men to surrender, and I will grant you a quick death.”

“I’d sooner meet Lord Ashe’s cold embrace in the afterlife than kneel to a mongrel like you,” Gane shouted, his voice loud above the disarray. “The alliance will never give up.”

“Then you shall watch how I trample down all of you,” Ojore wiped his chin with the back of his hand, bloodstains smeared across his face. The crimson color of blood blended with the dark paint on his face, creating a menacing look.

Gane screamed as he charged toward Ojore, his sword raised, angling for Ojore’s head.

Ojore smirked when the blade missed him by inches and Ojore leaned forward and hit Gane’s stomach. The blow sent Gane flying into the air before he fell and missed being burnt by a toppled torch.

“It won’t be easy to take me down.” Gane spat blood on the ground. His insides seared with pain as he charged forward again.

Gane used every skill he practiced, but he only managed a slight cut on his adversary’s chest. Ojore didn’t appear daunted by him. He controlled his movements and bore into him again and again.

“You are still not good enough to fight me,” Ojore rasped as he pinned Gane. “A weak prince like you can never be a king.”

“This weak prince managed to kill hundreds of your men in a matter of days,” Gane gloated, his breaths released in short puffs.

“That is because you resolved to cheap tricks.” Ojore tightened his hold on him. “I know about you and the bandit, your agreement, and the lies you told your people. Did you think you could manipulate your way to the throne?”

Gane’s eyes grew wide. “What do you know about Leikun?” His agreement with Leikun was a grave secret that would open a can of worms if revealed. His father, King Gusiwaju, would be devastated by the lies. He might lose the throne if his deals were uncovered.

“I will make sure your father knows how you organized cattle raids in the city and pretended to chase down the bandits as you split the profits between you two.” Ojore applied more force, and Gane went down on one knee. “Your desire to attain the throne made you betray the very people you’re to protect.”

“You must know something about betrayal, don’t you, Ojore?” Gane gritted his teeth and returned Ojore’s glare. His hands trembled on the sword. If he let go, Ojore would slash his neck. “Sholei,” Gane whispered. Emotion flickered in Ojore’s eyes. Gane took the chance to pushOjore off him. With the help of his sword, he knelt and clutched his throat.

“You don’t deserve to mention her name.” Ojore kicked Gane in the stomach. Gane crashed to the ground, his breaths labored.

“She came back to my side, didn’t she?” Gane coughed blood. He leaned his entire weight on his sword and tried to get up. “After everything, she poisoned you and came back to me.”

“Again, cheap tricks.” Ojore’s voice thundered as thunder clapped above them, the dark clouds opened, and cold droplets of rain fell. In seconds, they were both drenched.

“Nothing is fair in love and war, is it, general?” Gane mocked as he spit out more blood. His white teeth were red as rain streamed down his face.

“My fight with you has nothing to do with Sholei.” Ojore charged toward him again, his weapon raised. The band on his head came loose, and his dark locks swung with every movement he made.

“It would suit you better if I died, wouldn’t it? Then you would have no one else to contend for her.” Gane continued to taunt him, even as Ojore closed in. He rose and paused to defend himself.

“You were never my rival.” A dark golden glint appeared in Ojore’s eyes.

“If I manage to kill you, she’ll be rewarded with your slain head.”

A burning pain pierced Gane’s stomach. He hadn’t seen Ojore approach at lightning speed. His breathing came out in ragged gasps as he struggled to stand. Theeffort caused blood to pour from his open wound and soak his drenched armor. His weapon tumbled from his hand to the pool of blood mixed with rainwater.

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