CHAPTER 6

“Who walks in the comfort of the night? Show yourself or I will strike you with my spare, the gods stake me if I miss the first blow” The hardened voice of one of the night’s guard bellowed. There were five of them visible by the gloomy yellow touches, which lined the two hands of the narrow road, driving the shadows behind the palm trees which also stood as pavement. One would be a fool to think that the five guards were all there is. No one knows actually, but stories have it that the night’s guard are hundreds, most of whom were hiding in stations where the eyes cannot see. Other stories have it that some of the night guards are spirit born, who do not take titles or household names. That they are simply born out of the mercies of the night, to protect the Ofor, which was and still is the mantle of leadership in the kingdom. All these stories, told to children, most of them told by parent or village raconteur, who probably have never seen a nightguard all their lives.

“The cave of bones” Chinwe exclaimed as fear wrestle her and won “We shouldn’t be here. We should head back to the village at once”

“That’s too late now, the night’s guards have spotted us, doing back could get us killed” Ada walked towards the guards, pulling her reluctant friend whose clapping teeth and body seemed to have rooted her feet to the sandy earth. It was like dragging a child to be scourged She was afraid too, but her fears were elevated beyond the night guard’s rumpled face, she had seen them well enough to cower at first glance. Dreadlock with color riots of black, brown, a fading yellow and some red, bearing cowries too numerous to count. The unshaved pointed beards too, contrasted the dread with its white color. Even the tattoos, drawn like a skull, to mask their faces, were all too familiar now. The only thing that Ada never seemed to be acquainted with was their soulless gaze, which was always staring ahead, as though the night and day were identical twins whose disparity never really exists. It was difficult to think how one could stare like that for a long time without blessing the eyeballs with a blink. Maybe they really are spirit born.

“May your mighty spare, save its energy for the foe of the kingdom.” Ada said politely as they walked closer, trying to stay within the hands of the light. Two paces before the center touch, she and her shaking friend held their root from the warning glare. The cricket’s crisps were announcing how the night had matured into adulthood. For what happened to be the thousandth time, Ada heard her friend whispering that they should held back to the village. Maybe her friend was right, maybe this was all a mistake, she shouldn’t have come, these men won’t let her in, and familiarity this time seemed to have exceeded its limit. The night guards kept staring ahead, unaffected by their presence; their cold glare was the only messenger of their unspoken words.

Picking up the center touch from the stand, which stood in the middle of the road, Ada gulped uneasily. Thus far and no further it seemed, but she was not backing down, not without trying. That finger which had been crawling on her skin had somehow gained access to her stomach. This was the most critical part of coming here. All she had to do was to rise up the touch and wave. Once, for one who miss their way, twice for a friend, thrice for the king. Anything apart from these three was clearly interpreted as a threat and making fuss with these soulless men was the last thing she would ever do.

Ada cleared her mind, trying with a great effort not to remember what stories were told about those who unintentionally exceeded the wave. Even the king himself will lose his head at these times, that’s why he always comes with his trusted adviser. Ada waved the touch twice over her head and set it back on its stand. She walked back to her friend and they both waited. Faith or fate, it was hard to tell what kept them standing.

“Friend of the king” One the night’s guard said but his lips were not moving. His voice was like a wave, deep in his throat and soul-piercing. She could see the touch on the center of the road dancing in his eyes, but what she could feel was the tears of sweat beading her brow despite the cold.

“Daughter of the wind, The other guard said. His words too seemed to vibrate the place despite his unmoving lips.

“Purest of the noble

Bringer of dawn

Fear not” The five guards all chorus in unison.

Ada shivered at their words. They clearly voiced her fears back to her. Telling her not to be afraid was like poking a child and telling him not to cry. Bringer of dawn and purest of the noble, this was new, their usual line had changed. Before now they would let her pass after the fire wave without any words, but those times she was not as fearful as today. Why the riddles today? Ada gulped what saliva was left in her mouth.

“What you seek lies in wait in the shell of life; the door is ever open for you and for you alone.” Ada heard one of the guards say.

“I will… I will wait for you here” Came Chinwe’s plea when Ada tried to pull her along. Ada thought she was sweating, but looking at her friend, she just realized that the sweat on her body was an exaggeration in comparison with her friend’s. Her face was a mess; she looked haggard, like several moons of intense weather beating.

Ada nodded in agreement and let her hands go. She didn’t blame the girl; the same fear had robbed her bravery the first day the king had brought her here. It was on an Eke market day, on the eve of a new yam festival.

“I will be back soon” Ada said, hoping those words would comfort her too. She walked nervously towards the night’s guards, keeping her gaze from those soulless eyes. Even the gaiety prominent on it could not be mistaken in the slightest form as cheerfulness. Nothing in the whole of Alaocha could ever compare these eyes; it was like staring into darkness with no hope of seeing light again.

One of the soulless gaze guards handed her a touch–made from a palm tree part–and gesture her towards the entrance. His composure was calm, with no formality and no friendliness either, familiarity was farfetched. Ada thought they had come to be acquainted over the past moons, but standing here now, she was not sure. The fact was that she wasn’t sure of anything again. Biting her under lips and trying with great effort to keep her hands from pulling that hair beneath her ear, she walked through the bamboo thatch door.

The place was dark as always but for the touch in her hand, it could have been near dark as the eyes of those men in the entrance. One could get lost in this cave if one was not careful. Stories about lost souls have been told in the village about people who ventured in but never saw the blink of daylight again. But not her, the comfort of the familiar route came to her at ease. She could go through this place even without the touch to candle her way.

Ada continues through the sandy path, glad to return to her calm self, away from those guards, whatever they were, be it human or spirit. She had never known fear like this. It was quite obvious that those who said gaze could not kill have never tried that of the night guards. She often comes to this cave with the king, other times she came alone, always wanting to behold the beauty of the Ofor, the mantle of leadership, the scepter of the four kingdoms of Alaocha and, the staff that sealed the covenant between god and man. The eyes could never be satisfied. It was said that the gold used to craft the Ofor had been sent by the gods themselves, from Mbauwa, far away in the mountains that touch the cloud.

The absence of adrenaline was a testimony of her wounded emotion. The reason she came here almost flooded her mind back to that night when her lover, Ikedi, had begged her to disclose the location of the Ofor. He couldn’t have touched the Ofor. Ada said and hurried her feet, adrenaline was not driving her this time, it was fear of the unknown.

The darkness in the bone cave gave way to glittering carvings which brightened the place with white light and dulling the touch Ada was holding. The color of the sand, almost like a salt, spread through the room into the bone walls. The air was warm, but the peace could force goosebump. Bone statue of past kings, hung and circled the place, and beneath each bone was an epitaph, written in an ancient tongue. Ada knew all seventeen kings from stories; she had their names and could recite the words engraved on their tombstones by heart.

At the center of the hanging circular bone, was a mighty stone, cut to chest length, like the stem of a huge tree trunk. Sitting at the center of the stone was the shell of life–a huge calabash was broken at one end. Ada held her breath as she walked closer, with eyes longing to see the most beautiful object in Alaocha. The adrenaline she thought she had lost was coursing through her now, her whole being ached to have one more glimpse at the mantle of leadership, the sealer of covenant.

It was a matter of passing moment, but it felt like ages to Ada, as she circled the shell of life with her gaze, trying to behold that broken end which held the beauty of the Ofor. Finally, she saw it, the broken edge, crafted carefully to expose what content the shell of life held.

Slowly she felt her being returning, all her broken emotions coming back in place. But that was before her eyes saw what sat on the shell of life.

Nothing.

It was gone

The Ofor was gone

Ada screamed, but could not hear her voice. She tried to look properly at the shell, but could no longer see from the wall of tears blurring her vision.

So this is it? So this is how Ikedi, a man I loved with all my heart tricked me into death. What kind of life is this, what shall I do, whose comfort shall bring solace to this shattered soul of mine? I hate love, I hate love, I hate everything about men.

Ada couldn’t feel her legs again; she only felt the white sand on her cheeks, as she wept with so much broken heart. She knew what this entails, nobody would believe her tale. Death was the only one who would.