Page 44 of Wrath of the Oracle

“It’s not much, but we’ll make do.” Ojore unloaded the horse and set down the makeshift sleeping blanket. On observing the narrow material, Sholei’s heart sped up. Were they going to sleep in the same space? As the image of Ojore’s hard body so close to hers appeared in her mind, Sholei took a deep breath.

“You look sick. Are you okay?” She hadn’t heard Ojore approach until he stood before her and took her hand.

Sholei jumped as if a hot coal had touched her. “I’ll start the fire.” She took off. Then she recalled they couldn’t light a fire. Sholei cursed her scattered wits. Behind her, she couldn’t see the confusion on Ojore’s face being replaced by a knowing smirk.

After a short while, Ojore disappeared, and he left her with Radi. Sholei turned to rub Radi’s nose and tried to ignore her nerves around Ojore. After a short time, she sat on the sleeping mat under the tree and leaned back to stare at the star-filled sky. It would have been the best time to try and run away, but with Ojore’s killers out there, it wouldn’t be wise. She also couldn’t trace the direction from where they were to Mukuru capital. Getting lost at night with murderous men on the loose didn’t sound like a good idea.

When Ojore returned, his face was scrubbed clean, and he had changed his clothes.

“Did you take a bath?” Sholei asked before she stopped herself. She hadn’t heard water splash or any movement after he left. How was it possible he didn’t make any noise at all?

“Would you have liked to join me?” He raised his eyebrow as he took a seat next to her. Sholei started to move away from his alluring scent and encroaching heat, but he took her arm and pulled her back.

“Tonight, you’ll have to bear my presence.” He held her gaze as his thumb brushed her arm. “I won’t try anything you wouldn’t want me to.” He winked before he released her. Sholei’s heart skipped, and she pulled her legsclose to her chest. She tried to keep herself as small as possible.

Ojore removed a small arrowhead from his waist pouch and held it up in the little light.

“It’s the same as the one I found on you the day we met.” She took the arrowhead and examined its rough edges, glad to have something to distract herself from his overwhelming presence.

“I am afraid this time, my enemies come from Dembe. This iron is indigenous to Dembe’s vast ore deposits,” he said. “I also found this.” He handed her a small, circular copper pendant with the image of a silverback gorilla traced on its surface.

“You got this from the assassins?” Sholei traced her finger on the ridged surface.

“Sokwe Society.” Ojore’s tone turned grim.

It didn’t matter who you were or where you lived, everyone heard of the Sokwe Society, an infamous group of assassins with roots in the cities in the plains. Not much of the organization was known apart from when they struck. The only evidence left behind was a black gorilla pendant, its carvings the same as the one on the pendant she held.

“Why would the Sokwe Society hunt you?” Sholei asked.

“My status is a threat to certain members of my father’s court.” Ojore drew in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort.

“It’s daring for them to go after a prince.” No matter how daring someone was, to use the Sokwe Society to go after a prince of Dembe and the general of Dembe’sarmy was unwise. Unless that person was more powerful than Ojore.

“The one who sent them after me sits in a very high position in the Dembe court; Queen Nnandi.” Ojore tucked the arrowhead and pendant back into his waist pouch. The action caused his loose shirt to drift open and expose his scars to her. Sholei found her eyes fixed on the puckered flesh. How could the son of a king get such wounds? Six crisscrossing scars that didn’t appear to be lash marks. What had he been hit with?

Royal sons were prone to fight for the throne, just like Prince Gane. Ojore wasn’t spared the deadly politics either.

“I would like to blame her for these scars, but just like your tattoos, I was born with them.” He pulled the leather belt close and covered his puckered skin from her eyes. He pulled her closer and enclosed her in his arms. Sholei tried to calm her racing heart and keep the conversation going. He leaned back against the tree with her.

“Are you close with your family?” she relaxed against him, his heartbeat steady against her ear. She avoided the topic of tattoos to avoid a repeat of the discussion on the night of Ngele’s wedding.

“I joined the military to escape from certain death,” he started. His right hand stroked her arm, and the up and down motion sent a friction of awareness through her body. “My father is oblivious to the queen’s deadly schemes. She is intent on killing me as I pose a threat to Prince Kengani’s rise to the throne.”

“Why would no one stop her?” She inhaled his unique scent, now fresh after washing away the smell of blood.

“Queen Nnandi comes from the mighty Mumbi clan,” he added. “I have survived death by poisoning and numerous other attempts against my life when I lived in the palace. Only in my maternal grandfather’s home did I ever feel safe.”

“Were you close with your grandparents?” Sholei tried to picture a young Ojore as he followed his grandfather around.

“My grandmother died earlier. I never met her, but I was close to my grandfather. He took me in trade caravans to other kingdoms and cities as he conducted his trade. He taught me several languages and almost everything I know today.” Ojore spoke with adoration.

“You should visit him more if he means so much to you,” Sholei recalled Musembi. Despite her harsh upbringing, the older woman represented home. Until her captivity, she didn’t realize how much she was attached to her. To think their last discussion was an argument made her heart ache.

“He’s long left the three doors of the afterlife.” Ojore’s voice grew low and calm. “He passed away after insisting I join the army.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Sholei didn’t know what else to say. To lose such a loving grandfather before being thrown into the brutal life of a soldier at a young age must have been hard on him.

“I never knew my parents.” Sholei felt compelled to share her story. Ojore grew quiet and listened. His loose hold on her grew tighter as he offered silent comfort.

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