Page 6 of Wrath of the Oracle

Sholei grabbed the scarf and threw it down. “What do these marks mean?” She pointed to her head. “Why do they hurt? Where did I come from? Will you please answer me for once?” She was determined to find answers. Her humiliation in the capital burned deep. She couldn’t continue living without knowing her origins.

“What has come over you?” Musembi glared at Sholei, her gaze flittering between the scarf and Sholei’s frown. “Where were you last night? Did something happen?”

“I am no longer a child, Musembi. I deserve to know the truth,” Sholei said, her gaze searched her mentor’s face.

“You should stop behaving as one,” Musembi replied, tense. “Nothing good will come from being reckless and exposing your marks.”

“Why should I hide something I was born with if you’re not telling me the truth? Why do they hurt every time I pass the statue of Asaa?”

“You went to Mfangano Street?” Musembi stepped closer. “Was your head exposed? Did you get a headache? Have you been drinking the potion I gave you?” When Sholei didn’t answer, Musembi grabbed her again.

“What are you doing?” Sholei panicked. For several days, she had stopped taking the medicine Musembi prescribed for her.

“Teaching you a lesson.” Musembi grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the main hall, where they received patients. The wide room was decorated with a few furnishings, including an old wide table where they prepared medicine. The walls were covered with bags and baskets full of dried herbs, tree bark, plants, and various flowers. A citrus scent hung in the air.

When Musembi reached for a bottle and flicked the lid, the familiar sour smell of the potion hit Sholei’s nose. Sholei struggled against her mentor, and in the process, she knocked the flask down. The colorless liquid spilled on the stone floor.

Musembi slapped her.

Sholei touched her cheek in disbelief. Musembi had never laid her hands on Sholei before, no matter how much they quarreled.

“Sholei, I’m…” Musembi’s face twisted in horror as she gazed at her hand as if it acted on its own accord. She stepped forward but stopped when Sholei stepped back, away from her.

“Are you going to say it’s for my benefit too?” Sholei gritted her teeth.

“You may not understand why I am doing all this, but it’s for your good.” Musembi lowered her voice.

“I don’t think so,” Sholei whispered and dropped her hand from her cheek.

“We are leaving for the palace this afternoon. Remember to prepare early.” Musembi’s voice turned passive, andSholei knew she wouldn’t get the answers she sought—at least not that day. Musembi would shut her down.

“Are you listening to me?” Musembi asked when Sholei didn’t answer. “Prince Gane needs his medicine. His wound might be healed, but he hasn’t recovered his strength.”

Sholei had almost forgotten the reason for going to the forest the previous day. It was to search for a special herb needed to prepare a healing tonic—one that would strengthen a weak patient. The unique flower could only be found deep in the forests.

Prince Gane was the fourth prince of the Mukuru Kingdom. Sholei had tended to his wounds, sustained by bandits that plagued the capital in the recent attacks. His wounds looked more self-inflicted, but Sholei didn’t question him. It was already suspicious that Queen Kajala had sought the services of Musembi rather than calling for the Imperial Physicians. Sholei spent several days in the palace and attended to his injury. The pay was good, and even though Musembi was a tyrant, she always gave Sholei her share after attending to a patient. Sholei’s savings grew in recent years as her reputation in the medicine hall grew. With the prize money, she would leave the capital immediately.

“Remember to watch your actions around Prince Gane. Don’t spend too much time in his court.” Musembi warned. “I still don’t understand why the queen asked for me. Something is wrong with this whole situation.”

Prince Gane’s wound was strange. The spear that had been used to stab him was laced with a unique poison that Sholei identified as one common among bandits.However, the weapon that injured him was a common spear issued by the Mukuru army. It wouldn’t take long before the Royal Physicians in the palace figured out that fact and reported the findings to the court. Musembi wasn’t one to question the inconsistencies in the prince’s story, and Sholei didn’t care so long as she got paid.

“Have you finished preparing the tonic?” Musembi’s voice brought her back to the present. “Don’t mention to anyone that Prince Gane was poisoned or what type of weapon hurt him. We don’t want to get involved in inner court politics more than we already are.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I have enough problems. I don’t need to deal with others,” Sholei said as she walked away from the hall.

Prince Ojore,General of Dembe’s southern army, returned to the military camp at dusk. He passed through the barricaded gates and the hundreds of tents that housed his soldiers. He headed straight to his quarters and met Akima, his second-in-command, and a close friend. Akima was a head taller than Ojore with midnight dark skin. He kept his hair short with a single dreadlock wrapped with a white cowrie shell.

“My lord, you have returned.” Akima held onto Radi’s reigns. The horse neighed and leaned to his side. “I almost sent a search party when you didn’t return yesterday.”

“Get someone to attend to Radi. We have been riding for a long time.” Ojore patted the horse’s dark nose and turned to Akima.

It was almost nighttime, but the camp was rife with activities. Since the Dembe were gearing up for war, Ojore had intensified their training schedule. Heplanned to invade the Keseve Market in a fortnight, a strategic course to expand Dembe kingdom borders and get access to Lake Alokove in the south. The market was lucrative and attracted traders from all over the region. It was also the gateway to the southern region and would soon be an extension of Dembe.

The military camp was located north of the Keseve Market, at the southernmost point of the Dembe Kingdom. Laid on the vast plains, it housed hundreds of soldiers. Their presence brought tension throughout Mukuru Kingdom in the south—Ojore’s target.

While he scouted the market and its environs, an assassin shot him with a poisoned arrow. Ojore didn’t have a chance to stop his assailant, but the attack didn’t come as a surprise. Over the years, he had accumulated enemies all over the region. He’d passed out, and when he came to, a woman with wide eyes hovered near him and Radi. A witch from the Mukuru Kingdom. He smiled and recalled her defiant stance when he tried to question her that morning.

“You are injured!” Akima exclaimed at the sight of a white bandage that peeked through Ojore’s robes. “Let’s get Litonde to check on you.”

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