One
A Lion Asleep
the thick grass, so not to alert a stranded antelope of his presence. With
the animal in his sight, he aimed his wooden spear with sharpened
bronze teeth and waited patiently for the right moment to strike. The
King’s breath grew warm, vision blurred with thousands of insects
buzzing in front. His hands shook to his beating heart, but his gaze
stood still, eager not to go home without a kill.
Then came a gust of wind, blowing briskly across the field, washing
away the swarm of insects and the antelope from his sight. Wondering
where it went, Ewuare scanned the distant trees. His worn hands
flooded with sweat, with more dripping down his chiselled face as the
evening heat boiled. He knew if he flinched a muscle, the antelope
would smell its almost certain death. So he continued searching, with
eyes wide open, darting from tree to tree. The animal must have sensed
danger and purposely hid away.
With the sound of a snapped branch, Ewuare regained his target.
He inched closer to his prey, which was seemingly unaware of the
impeding hunter. Lost and alone, the creature must have separated
from its herd and their protection. In an unexpected moment, the two
had a second of eye contact. They stood still and unsure of the future.
In a split second, the antelope sprinted away, but Ewuare remained
still. The King aimed for the animal’s heart and released his spear,
sending it sailing through the tranquil Agbon forest. It followed a
narrow but defined path, cutting between tall, aged trees and thin
branches before piercing the antelope’s belly, crushing its ribs and
narrowly missing its heart. The antelope fell to the wet forest floor with
blood spurting into the warm air, disturbing the cricketing noise.
Ewuare rushed to meet his kill and sliced the animal’s neck open with
a merciful swoosh of his sword, relieving it of pain and life itself. The
King placed the animal on his bareback and marched home pensive.
In keeping with the customs and tradition, Ewuare wore red coral
beads around his neck, traditional red cloth around his waist and
brown leather sandals beneath his feet. As King, Ewuare had hundreds
of servants and an endless array of luxury. He didn’t have to hunt;
countless servants were willing to do it for him, but he loved hunting,
he saw it as a chance to keep his instincts razor sharp. A lifelong learner
he was.
~~~~~
As the sun dipped below the distant mountains, and the fleeting
colours of dusk quickly became darkness, King Ewuare, his two wives
and five children gathered around a fire for the evening feast in the
Kumanna palace compound. The palace stood tall behind them, with
walls built of baked mud, matching the dust on which it stood upon.
Each wall, coated with clay to make it soft as a woman’s touch. Seven
large box-like towers rose to the clouds, each one protruding out of
the palace walls with cone-shaped spires at the topMeha, the King’s prized second wife, the crown in his jewel, in her
riveting beauty, sat right beside the King. She whispered in his ears,
“Rather than hunting the man who killed your father, you think
hunting an animal will fill the void left by his death. He is probably
eating, drinking and laughing at you around a fire, just like this one.”
“Twenty years, peace has reigned. Why should I change that?”
Ewuare replied while getting up to cut the antelope’s belly and start the
fire. His deep voice was rich but calm. The King spoke with great
wisdom, which demanded respect. Now forty-five years old, with
peppered grey hair and wrinkles running down his copper-brown face,
many felt his best years were behind him. But he was still agile, and his
mind was sharp, stronger than many men half his age.
Equally as sharp, his wife sent a blunt response without delay.
“Why should you change that? Because for twenty years, the man who
killed your father has roamed free without fear of reprisal. We are the
laughing stock of everyone.” The smell of smoked meat rose from the
flame to fill the evening air. Meha continued, “Are you a real man? A
real King?” His two daughters and three sons sat to one side,
entertaining themselves.
“Leave him be! War brought death to his father, why should he
follow such path?” his first wife, Queen Adana replied as she got up
to help tend to the meat; the mother of them all, a few years younger
than her husband, Ewuare. Her beauty waned over the years, slightly
rounder now, her soft brown skin was showing new wrinkles, but she’d
grown wiser.
“He keeps listening to your advice, that’s why he has become less
of the man he used to be,” Meha replied.
“Enough! Not another word on the matter.” Deep down, Ewuare
was reluctant to act and fail, just like his father before him.
After dinner, each family member settled in their comfortable quarters. Ewuare laid in bed, awake. The memory of the long-forgotten
war came back to haunt him. The conflicted King only drew sleep after
hours of staring at the thatched roof. Twenty years he’d been King of
Mombaka, after taking over from his father, King Mondessa, who died
in battle.
With only three hours of sleep, Ewuare woke up in the middle of
the night to dead silence and pitch darkness. The rub of his palm felt
sweaty, as his heart pounded heavier in his chest. He got to his firm
feet and went outside. Ewuare wanted to go for a short walk to clear
his mind, but he was barely able to find his shoe in the darkness while
the crickets chirped away. Meha’s words the night before rang in his
ears once again. He asked himself, What kind of King am I? One that hides
from revenging the death of his father or a king who chooses to forget the past, to
maintain peace. He stood at a crossroad, morally conflicted; Ewuare
knew his decision wouldn’t only define his reign, but also his role as a
leader to his family and his people.
~~~~~
The next day, a bright ray of sunlight washed over the distant
mountains and the Agbon forest as Ewuare prepared for a busy day of
work. He set out for the town centre, walking through the dusty
footpath which cut through the edge of the woods. Ewuare usually
took the forest route to avoid grabbing the attention of his people.
Dense the Agbon forest was, roamed by the most beautiful creatures
known to man, and lined with trees for a hundred miles, each one tall
to the sky with misshapen roots fighting for space beneath. The people
called the jungle, ‘Agbon’, which meant ‘infinite world’ in the common
tongue. Vast it was, the forest stretched across Mombaka and the
surrounding Kingdoms, a source of food and life to the people.
The morning was cool and fresh, with a smell of damp earth waiting
to greet the King. Ewuare took little notice of his surroundings, with his mind consumed by Meha’s words. Pensive as always. The King
finally reached the town centre. Waiting to greet him were craft
workers, sculptors and masons who made simple pots, weapons and
tools. From a distance, he heard the clatter of metal by local
Blacksmiths, but rather than creating swords in a time of battle, they
were forging bronze sculptures and plaques. One of which was ordered
by Ewuare to immortalise the beauty of his Queen, Meha.
Ewuare approached one of the Blacksmiths, Eweka, and stepped
into his workshop. All four walls were black with the ashes from burnt
coal. To the left, a fire billowed away in a fireplace, adding to the
sweltering heat. In every corner, there was an object forged by either
Eweka or his father before him. Now in his late teens, barely nineteen,
Eweka was a year into running his family business in his father’s stead.
A huge burden on his broad shoulder made wider by the daily
hammering of bronze and chiselling of wood.
The King joked with the young man, “I have been King for twenty
years now with no war. It must be the magic in bronze statues I have
received over the years.” Every corner of the Kumanna palace wall was
lined with bronze plaques, each one bearing a story, stories of past
Kings and Queens, feast and famine, peace and war, and historical
events dating back a thousand years. It was tradition to have history
etched in bronze plaques, which were hung in every corner in the
palace hall; the people believed it drove evil away.
Eweka responded, “I am happy to be of service to my King,
especially if you believe it drives the god of war away. My father once
said to me, ‘Always wear the coral beads when you leave the house.’
He believes they are a gift from the god of the sea, Olokun, and they
bear her magical powers.”
Ewuare laughed before saying, “Your father is a wise man. Anyway,
will you be able to finish Meha’s carving before the end of the day?”“I will finish it by sunset,” Eweka replied.
~~~~~
Ewuare left for his workshop, which wasn’t far from Eweka’s. His
time in his shop was a break from his busy life as King of Mombaka,
as a husband and a father. In his shop, Ewuare was able to develop his
craft by carving wood and ivory to make makeshift weapons, blades
and archery. The Mombakan people believed ivory was a symbol of
purity and strength, as such, carved ivory tusks stood either side of the
King's throne as a sign of strength.
Just before sunset, Ewuare hastily left his workshop, heading
straight to Eweka’s shop before the young man closed for the day. He
picked up the completed bronze carving of his beauty, Queen Meha
and started the long trek home.
On his way home, in the darkness of the night, Ewuare navigated
through the Agbon forest with the aid of an oil lamp, barely able to
make out the dirt footpath. The sporadic howling of hungry wolves
broke the still silence of the night; he hastened his steps, unwilling to
have his flesh appease the wet appetite of the midnight beasts. Soon
after, a bolt of lightning struck across the dark sky, cutting it in half
with a booming sound. In between each roaring thunder, Ewuare
heard the rustle of dry leaves. He turned behind and glimpsed into the
distance, but he couldn’t see a thing. His lamp didn’t light the jungle
far enough, so the King continued walking. As he did, another thunder
struck, which was closely followed by a sound of footsteps. Ewuare
turned behind again, but still, there was nothing to explain the
footsteps. He peered into the distance, squinting his eyes, just about
making out the shadow of a dwarf-like figure, round and with eyes
brighter than the Moon. Ewuare raised his lamp to get a better view,
but as he did, the thing disappeared.
Alone in the eerie Agbon forest, in the darkness of the night, with hungry beast all around, his hands trembled in fear, his fire lamp
flickered, and his heart pulsed faster. At night, the woods can be a scary
place for the bravest and strongest of men. Ewuare turned around and
continued trudging home. The lightning and thunder stopped, the sky
opened, rain poured down and quenched his light. With no lamp and
deep within the belly of the jungle, Ewuare held fast the things he
carried and dashed home. Before too long, he reached the palace
grounds.
~~~~~
On getting to the Kumanna palace hall, drenched with rain, with
water dripping from his whole body, Ewuare collapsed to the floor,
exhausted and out of breath. His first wife, Adana, rushed in and lifted
his head while asking, “What happened?”
“The gods were chasing me in the forest.” Gasping, Ewuare was
barely able to catch his breath.
“Why would the gods be chasing you? What have you done now?”
Adana asked.
“I think the gods want me to revenge the death of my father. I felt
like a ghost was following me.”
“Please Ewuare, I can’t live through another war, seeing you go
away and continuously worrying about you. When your father died at
war, I was the one who held this family together while you drank
yourself to sleep for months.” Adana could barely speak through the
growing lump in her throat; her heart ached as she pictured the once
broken King. Her husband.
Achingly, Ewuare placed his sturdy feet firmly to the ground and
straightened his arched back. He didn’t know how long he could go on
like this. The King climbed to his feet, his clothes now soiled and
tattered, he went to one side of the palace hall to hang the protected
carving of Meha.
Adana watched him hang the carving of Meha. She spoke, “That is
a gorgeous carving of your lady, outstanding! Eweka must have spent
a lot of time and effort making it. Anyway, your son, Kamunde, was
having one of his fits when the rain was falling.”
Ewuare responded, “I keep asking Olokun what sin I committed to
deserve a sick child as a first-born son! All he does is drink with his
delinquent friends. When he isn’t drinking, he is either ill or having
another fit.”
“Abeg! Abeg! Leave my son alone, he may not be your ideal heir,
but I carried him for nine months, and I love him,” his first wife
replied.
~~~~~
While Ewuare and Adana were discussing, in a barn on the opposite
side of the Kumanna palace compound, the head of the Royal Navy,
Kofi, had his hands up Meha’s dress. He slid her underwear down her
legs, letting it slip to the floor. Her full lips pressed against his with lust
and passion. She freed herself from any inhibitions, pushing her
delicious, firm breasts against his bare chest. With both legs straddling
one of his, she eagerly grinded onto him, letting him feel the wetness
and heat of her loins. Kofi’s thick cock grew larger, longer, throbbing
against her clit in desperation but wanting the experience to last.
Meha, flushed with giddiness, whispered in his ear, “I have waited
so long for you, don’t leave me behind again.” Three months, Kofi had
been at sea. Without his tender feel, Meha had grown horny and
desperate to have him inside her once again. Eagerness rushed through
her skin, wetting his loins.
Kofi smiled at her wickedly and pulled her figure-hugging dress up
over her head. His eyes transfixed on her wide African hips, thick, juicy
thighs and polished, ebony-brown skin. Thirty-four years of age and a
mother of three, yet she looked twenty and untouched. She glowed brightly in the dimly lit barn. Her juicy breasts sat high on her chest,
and her honied aroma was that of fresh coconut and almond oil.
Making use of his large hands, he grabbed her voluptuous butt cheeks
and carried her to the mountain of sawdust. The woman giggled as he
knelt between her legs, peeping the water dripping between her
glistening pussy lips. He thrust his cock forward, like a spear piercing
through the air in the middle of battle and buried it between her tight
walls. Meha growled, a perfect mix of pain and absolute pleasure, water
oozed out of her. She had never had his cock so deep inside her.
Meha’s continued incoherent sound grabbed the attention of
Kamunde, who was striding down the corridor. The boy foolishly
wandered into the barn and caught them having sex. Kofi jumped up,
and his cock swung from side to side, he then pulled a robe around his
waist. Kofi asked Meha, with a shaking voice, “What should we do
about him? If he speaks of this, our severed heads will sit on a spike,
should we kill him?”
With one hand, Kofi grabbed Kamunde by the neck, digging his
iron claws into the boy’s flesh, lifting him clean off the sandy floor.
With the other hand, Kofi grabbed a sword and was about to slit the
boy’s throat. Kamunde’s hands trembled, his heart raced away, blood
rushed to his sweaty head, making the vein running down his forehead
grow to the size of a worm.
“P-p-p-p-p-please don’t kill me!” Kamunde stammered as he
begged for dear life
Meha replied, “Leave him alone; he is a fool and too drunk for
anyone to take his word seriously. No one listens to him; everyone
thinks he is the village idiot except for his mother.” Kofi released his
claws and allowed the boy to drop to the floor with a heavy thud.
Having been released from Kofi’s grasp and the cusp of death,
Kamunde ran into his chamber, and to the far corner of his bed and curled into a foetal position. The images played back repeated in his
head the entire night. All the while, Kofi and Meha were in the barn,
talking late into the night.
“It is so frustrating we can’t just be together openly, I am tired of
hiding the love I have for you,” Kofi winced.
“Don’t worry; things will work out in the end.” Meha put her
clothes back on.
“I was supposed to take your hand in marriage before Ewuare stole
you from me. We were young and in love, and now I must pretend like
nothing happened. I planned to sail with you and show you around the
world, but this fool took you from me,” the master sailor lamented on
what could have been.
“Don’t worry about it; there is still time to make things right. You
must be patient, Kofi,” They both kissed. Meha gently opened the barn
door, then peeked out to make sure no one was watching before
leaving. She tiptoed along the corridor and sneaked into bed right next
to her husband, Ewuare, who was deep asleep. Queen Adana saw her
sneaking into bed late but pretended not to notice.
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