Page 5 of Wrath of the Oracle

Sholei’s life flashed before her eyes. This couldn’t be her end—dead in the wild, never to accomplish her dreams. She couldn’t attend the Imperial Physicians’ school. The more she thought about it, the more panic rose inside her and caused her to fight with all her might. She kicked, screamed, scratched, bit, and hit any part of him she could reach, but it was futile. What she was doing was equal to fighting a boulder. Unyielding. All that it did was make her aware of his muscular body.

The more she fought, the tighter his hold grew. He didn’t seem to use any effort to restrain her. Like iron rods, his arms confined and held her in place.

“Enough,” he growled in her ear, and her blood ran cold. “Keep fighting like that, and I will indeed kill you. You tended to my wounds, and I will be kind enough to let you go.”

He turned her around to face him as his fingers dug into her shoulders. “Remember, you didn’t see me or my horse. Yesterday didn’t happen. If you whisper a word to anyone, I will come for you, and I won’t let you live.” He released her, and she stumbled to the ground.

Sholei shook from head to toe as she watched his tall frame walk to his horse and mount it in one clean move.The murderous eagle screeched, spread its wings, and soared into the sky.

”If the stars wish it, we shall meet again, witch.” the soldier said, as his horse galloped into the dense forest, leaving the same way he had appeared.

Sholei didn’t look backand dashed to the capital. She tumbled over overgrown roots and ran into trees several times. She wanted to reach the patrol guards fast before he got far.

A couple of hours later, she reached the city gates. She passed people on her way who threw her glances but didn’t approach—a normal reaction from them. Sholei was used to being invisible to the people of Mukuru. But without her scarf, her tattoos attracted attention. Combined with her disheveled look, she was sure the talk wouldn’t die down anytime soon.She only interacted with the residents when they fell sick and visited the medicine yard. And those were the poor ones who didn’t have the budget to consult Imperial Physicians. It was ironic how they became friendly when they were sick.

She usually enjoyed the view of the city, but not that day. From a hilltop, Mukuru City appeared to rise from earth. Sky-high clay brick walls fortified the large city and protected the inhabitants within. Four gates guarded the place, each entrance representing the four main gods venerated in the kingdom. The hawk-eyed, well-armed capital guards patrolled the walls. They watched over the wide streets and solved disputes amongst the congested streets.People milled around oblivious of the threat outside the tall walls.

Her eyes skimmed the armed men, Sholei hoped to spot Prince Gane, their leader, but she couldn’t see him. If she could get the message about the Dembe soldier to Prince Gane, he was more likely to believe her and act faster than his subordinates. Since she couldn’t trace him, she stopped before one guard to report but words failed her when his eyes landed on her head and her tattoos.

In her hurry, she’d forgotten her scarf, and her tattoos were exposed.

“Keep it moving, witch.” He waved his sword in her face.

“I have to report…” she tried to say as she fumbled to remove the Dembe insignia, but she was pushed back with a rough hand. Sholei lost her footing and fell to the ground. She hit the towering monument in the middle of the street. Passersby turned to look at her.

Sholei raised her eyes and came face to face with the dark, hypnotizing eyes of Asaa, carved on the statue in the middle of the busiest street in the capital. Asaa was depicted as a long and winding snake with green eyes in a fight with High Lord Keita, the sky god of the north, represented by a large black eagle. Keita’s long talons dug into Asaa’s glossy skin as the snake’s long fangs sank into the eagle’s exposed neck. Keita and Asaa were locked in an eternal fight.

Every time Sholei came across the monument, she couldn’t look away. The eerie eyes of Asaa haunted her in her dreams, so much so that Sholei tried to avoid the street altogether. Musembi, her mentor, warned Sholei againstthe road more than once.Sholei was to avoid the statues of Lord Keita and Asaa at all costs.

“Asaa,” the snarly voice that followed Sholei in her dreams whispered. Sholei screamed and clutched her head. Her knees hit the dusty ground and her head throbbed. Just as the pain came, it vanished, and Sholei became aware she knelt in the middle of a street with a crowd surrounding her.

“Look at the marks on her head.”

“She’s a witch!”

“Where is her scarf? She shouldn’t be walking around like that.”

People pointed fingers, and Sholei wished the ground would open and swallow her. She pushed back the self-pity threatening to drown her. She rose, dusted her gown, and walked away. Her head high, she ignored the people, and they parted to let her pass. She walked away from the spiteful remarks and looks, away from Asaa’s captivating pull.

Always keep your head high. You have done nothing wrong.Musembi’s mantra propelled her away from the busy streets until she reached the quiet road to the medicine yard.

She arrived at the yard and opened the old, rickety wooden gate. The compound was comprised of long, wide, clay-baked houses. Patients who visited and could not make it back to their homes stayed inside. A smaller house, Musembi’s and Sholei’s private quarters stood behind the main hall. Huge trees and clay fortifications surrounded the place, offeringshade from the sweltering heat.

Much like the other houses in Mukuru Kingdom, the people of the capital built their homesteads with courtyards. The royals and court officials had elaborate houses outside the palace.

“Sholei!” Musembi’s boisterous voice startled her. Sholei’s mentor stood beside a raised wooden stand used to dry herbs. Sholei hoped her mentor would be passed out drunk and wouldn’t realize that Sholei spent the entire night out.

“Where have you been?” Musembi asked, hands on her hips. She pinned Sholei with an accusing look. Her long hair was plaited in neat rows that stretched to her shoulders. Sholei wished she had such hair instead of a bald head.

“I was out foraging for herbs.” Sholei approached her mentor, who narrowed her eyes with suspicion. Musembi was a short curvy middle-aged woman who had never married or bore children. Sholei knew from a young age Musembi wasn’t her mother. The older woman didn’t pretend to be a parent. She told Sholei she was picked from the forest when Musembi went out to forage for herbs.

“Where is your scarf?” Musembi pointed at Sholei’s head. Her mentor whipped out a similar scarf and wrapped it around Sholei’s head. Musembi always kept one on her as a spare.

“What do these tattoos mean?” Sholei asked the question she asked many times before without answers. She shoved Musembi’s hands away as her mentor tried to tie the new scarf on her head. The cotton material was rough against her smooth skin. Years had passed, but Sholei never got used to the texture of the fabric on her head.

“Stand still.” Musembi grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her closer. “This isn’t the time for you to be stubborn.”

From an early age, Musembi forbade her to lose her scarf. The only time she could remove it was while bathing or sleeping. Few people saw her tattoos up close, excluding the Dembe soldier. Recalling her near-death experience, Sholei grew angry again.

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