Page 65 of Wrath of the Oracle

Tula dressed quickly and managed to stagger outside the tent. It was midday, and she couldn’t tell how long she was unconscious. She passed tents filled with injured men. Some lay on the beds, and others attended to them. Several horses were tied together at one end of the gorge, saddled and ready to leave. She spotted more red-clad cattle rustlers in their midst. They were a scourge of enemies with capital guards. How did they come to their rescue in the battle?

Before she reached Prince Gane’s tent, she walked into one tent with men in a heated discussion. Alliance soldiers filled the room and talked above each other. They were dressed in their war armor and sported burn wounds and battle scars. Tula glanced around and hoped to catch her brothers, but none of their faces appeared. Where were Kweku and Anasi? She sent a prayer to the skies for their safety.

“We have to go back and fight,” one soldier said. He stood in their midst with his right arm in a white sling.

“You and what army?” another soldier asked, white bandages wrapped around his head. Part of his armor was torn and burned.

“We can’t be cowardly and hide here as we await an unknown fate. We must go back and protect our people.” the man in the sling waved his arm in the air and flinched.

“By now, our cities must have fallen into the hands of the Dembe. It’s over. This war is done,” another soldier with a swollen eye said.

“So we are giving up without fighting?”

“Look around you. We can’t fight. Communication with our cities has been cut off.” He shook his head. “Who knew we could lose to those animals like that?”

“I believe they are theuthwezini, spirits who escaped the world of the living dead. They came through the fire to drag us down with them,” another soldier with a glassy look in his eyes said. “They charged through the fire and slaughtered us.” The room went silent for a few moments. The mention of the uthwezini was enough to make a grown man’s blood run cold.

“We can’t fight now. Let’s recuperate first,” the man with one arm in a sling arm said.

“We must wait for Prince Gane to wake up. He is the only general who didn’t perish in the war,” another soldier supported him.

A harsh laugh emitted from behind her, and Leikun sauntered in. His tall frame bypassed her at the tent’s opening. The midday sun burned through the strands of his flaming hair.

“All of you better count your losses. You can’t take the Dembe army in such a state.” Leikun glared at them.

Then it hit her. Leikun was a household name in Mukuru’s capital. The cattle raider’s story was told many times. He attacked in the dead of night without a sound and left with numerous heads of cattle. Prince Gane was the only one who had managed to stop him and occasionally bring back the loot.

“This has nothing to do with you, bandit,” the one-armed soldier sneered at him, disdain in his voice. Soldiers and bandits didn’t mix well.

“I’m your host and the man who saved your lives.” Leikun threw his arms in the air before he settled on a stool. He seemed at ease before the men who looked down on him. With his fierce reputation, they were prudent not to attack. If Leikun was correct about saving their lives, he had managed to get the survivors away from Ojore and his vengeful army. How and why did he do it? Tula scratched her head.

“You are nothing but a petty thief,” another soldier spat, venom in his words. They might not attack him physically, but they didn’t hold back their words. The relationship between soldiers and raiders was bitter. The soldiers believed the raiders were thieves who took advantage of hardworking men. Tula agreed with those sentiments. Her family once fell victim to the bandits, and they didn’t receive their cattle back even after Gane went after them.

“If it weren’t for my men risking their lives to get you out of the fire, you wouldn’t be standing in front of me.” A dark glint appeared in Leikun’s eyes. At a glance, nothing was threatening about Leikun’s looks. Tula assumed the bandit was a rough older man, not someone so young. Leikun appeared like a carefree man who spent his days lounging in pleasure houses and not making a career stealing cattle.

“No one asked you to save us…” another soldier began.

“Don’t think I did this out of the goodness of my heart. I wish for nothing more than to see all of you dead.” Leikun walked up to the man and stopped inches from his face. The soldier’s forehead veins popped.

The room went silent as everybody watched the interaction. The other soldiers inched for their weapons, ready for a showdown. The rest of the bandits closed in outside the tent, prepared to attack when their leader gave an order.

“Enough, Leikun,” Prince Gane’s voice called behind Tula. Prince Gane leaned against a crude cane. His wide chest was bare, and a white bandage was wrapped around his waist. He had survived the battle, but deep wounds and blood stained the bandage.

Gane’s eyes registered surprise when he saw her. Questions reflected in his gaze, but he didn’t say anything.

“Your dear Prince Gane is still breathing.” Leikun pointed to Gane at the entrance. “Maybe now you can all leave my camp and plan your suicide missions away from my camp.”

“Do you two know each other?” one of the soldiers asked. Gane didn’t say anything but glowered at Leikun.

“We are quite acquainted, wouldn’t you say, Gane?” Leikun trained his eyes on Gane. He walked towards the hurt prince and stopped a breath away. They were almost the same height, with Prince Gane slightly taller and heftier than Leikun.

Prince Gane led many raids against Leikun whenever a raid occurred in the capital. Sometimes, Gane returned empty-handed, but he often reclaimed some of the stolen cattle. Leikun evaded him inside the caves, never to be seen again until the next raid, according to what Tula’s brothers told her.

“Hold your tongue, Leikun.” Gane’s eyes glinted.

“The secrets I could bring out would destroy the illusion you’ve tried so hard to build.” Leikun refused to back down.

“Last warning,” Gane declared. He grimaced and grabbed his bandaged wound. Tula rushed to his side to help him sit on a wood stool placed in the middle of the room. The men looked over with concern, the tension in the room diffused.

---