Page 67 of Firstborn of the Sun
‘To kill the girl and bring back Alawani,’ Ìyá-Ayé said.
‘Surely the prince’s crime is punishable by death?’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà said.
The Lord Regent shot him and Ìyá-Ayé a look and turned back to his son. ‘I want Prince Alawaniandthe girl brought back here alive to face this council. We’ll decide their fates here before the gods, not recklessly on the streets of Oru. As the words have left my mouth –’
The room echoed after him. The Elder Priest concluded, ‘So let it be done.’
The Lord Regent faced Ìyá-Ayé, ‘Never do something like this again. And instruct your maiden to capture the prince and the girl. Provide their location and await the crown heir’s arrival. And don’t waste time sending another maiden or a messenger bird. I want you to go to her yourself in her dreams and make sure she hears my words.’
‘As you’ve said, Lord Regent,’ Ìyá-Ayé said, bowing her head.
‘One more thing,’ the Lord Regent said to his maiden. ‘Iwant the prince’s mother and their entire family out of this palace and off the island before nightfall.’
‘È·w,’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà said. ‘Abomination.’
Tofa straightened at this. Alawani’s mother, Ìyáàfin Olorì Atinu?k, was the queen who had been married to Àlùfáà-Àgbà’s son, the late king. Tofa was not at all surprised by the old man’s outrage. Àlùfáà-Àgbà had five children from his time as High Priest, the other four having ruled as the council for their brother and the new regent for many first suns. They were set to retire from the council and their positions as governors of their home rings once the new council, formed of Tofa’s siblings, took over from them. With his father’s latest declaration, Tofa wondered if the Lord Regent intended to banish the late king’s council as well? They were still Alawani’s family after all.
One of the council members stood; from his tribal marks Tofa knew the man was the governor of Ìlú-Òdì – the sixth ring. ‘Lord Regent, you cannot banish the late king’s wife from this island. She is our queen. Her children are of royal blood,’ he said with his arms folded before him, showing respect even as he challenged the Lord Regent.
Tofa noticed how none of Àlùfáà-Àgbà’s children, serving as council to the late king, ever looked in his direction. They all had their eyes fixed on the Lord Regent.
‘And royal blood means nothing,’ the Lord Regent said, ‘or have the laws of our land changed?’
The council member held his ground, ‘For hundreds of first suns the sovereign’s family has lived in the royal palace for as long as they want. This is not the way. Our brother the late king would be turning in his grave.’
‘I will not debate this. You are lucky I don’t have them put in the dungeons for what their son has done. Alawani has brought disgrace to this palace and spat in the face of ourgods. I want Olorì Atinu?k and her children out, and I will not discuss this again.’
‘You are making a terrible mistake,’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà seethed. His sunken eyes blazed with fury.
The Lord Regent slammed his staff on the ground and rose. The sound sent a wave of energy through the room. ‘As the words have left my mouth.’
Slowly, in unison, the room said the words in response. And finally, after a long moment of silence, Àlùfáà-Àgbà said, ‘So let it be done.’
‘The crown heir will wait until we have a location,’ the Lord Regent said, then walked through the curtains behind the throne.
The room bowed in unison as the Lord Regent disappeared from sight. The high council and the priests of the Holy Order filed out, leaving Tofa standing there before an empty throne. ‘Are you coming?’ K?ni asked.
‘Give me a moment,’ he said.
His sister nodded her understanding. ‘I’ll wait for you by the door.’ Leaving him alone was not an option.
As he stared at the throne, Tofa sighed in relief that his father wanted the prince alive. Despite this declaration about Alawani’s family, Tofa knew it was just another of his father’s mistakes that he’d fix once he took the throne. They shouldn’t have to suffer for Alawani’s folly. Tofa wasn’t sure what kind of king he wanted to be but hunting down Alawani, someone he’d once called friend, wasn’t how he wanted to start. Broken oaths or not, he wanted nothing to do with the death of the prince of Oru.
Tofa heard footsteps approaching and lifted his head, expecting K?ni, but instead noticed Àlùfáà-Àgbà walking back into the chamber, shooting K?ni an irritated glance as he passed. His face softened as he set eyes on the crown heir.Tofa felt a rush of warmth towards the old priest, although he disagreed with his tough approach to Alawani’s cowardice. The old man had taught him things his father would never teach him; things like old magic, politics, and an understanding of the delicate balance that kept the kingdom together. But it was more than that: the man had been there for Tofa in so many ways. When he needed a father, and his own was too busy ruling the kingdom, it was Àlùfáà-Àgbà who heard his concerns and wiped his tears. It was he who promised Tofa that he would be the greatest king who ever lived, and he’d always be there to show him the way.
Tofa moved closer to Àlùfáà-Àgbà and placed a hand on his arm. ‘It’s good to see you, Bàbá.’
Tofa didn’t know anyone else who called the old man Bàbá. He wished that people saw the same nurturing and protective man he saw when he looked at the Elder Priest. Even the high council’s indifference towards their father was always uncomfortably obvious to Tofa. He didn’t know what had happened between them, but he didn’t ask. It was a shame that none of them could see the heart of the man who loved him so much.
‘Come here,’ the older man said with arms wide open, embracing Tofa in a tight hug. ‘It’s good to see you too,’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà said quietly, holding Tofa’s face in his palm. ‘Have you lost weight?’
Tofa smiled and moved out of his grasp. ‘I’m fine, Bàbá, you worry too much.’
From the corner of his eye Tofa noticed K?ni, her eyes like a hawk’s, watching the old man’s every move. She had more reason than most to hate Àlùfáà-Àgbà: he’d been the one to insist on her taking on the title of Ab’bakú – the condition that whenever he died, so would she. Tofa on the other hand was grateful for every moment his sister was alive and he had the Elder Priest to thank for that.
Àlùfáà-Àgbà’s voice dropped so low that Tofa had to lean in to hear his words. ‘Your father underestimates the powers this girl of Òtútù has. You mustn’t. He can afford to be careless with his reign as it draws to an end, but if this girl lives, the repercussions will be yours to bear. I don’t want that for you.’
‘My father has ruled on this, Àlùfáà. There’s nothing I can do.’
