Chapter Eight: Shadows of the Past and Promises of Justice

After the battle, Nosaze felt as though the weight of the world had finally crushed her. She remained in her tent, the flicker of the oil lamp casting long, restless shadows on the canvas walls. Her warriors came and went, but she refused to see anyone. Her heart felt heavy, her mind a storm of unanswered questions.

When Sonni finally strode into her tent, she barely looked up. His presence was commanding as always, but tonight it felt like an anchor—a reminder of the war she couldn't escape.

"My brother tried to kill me," Nosaze said, her voice calm but trembling beneath its surface. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, her fingers tightly clutching the armrest of her chair.

Sonni stood silent, his expression unreadable, letting her words settle in the air.

"But why?" she continued, her tone hardening. "I loved him so much. I missed him every day he was gone. His disappearance broke me, Sonni. It changed me." Her voice cracked, and she inhaled sharply to steady herself. "And now, he seeks to kill me. For what? If it's the kingdom he wants, he can have it. But to hurt innocent people—my people—just to prove his power? That's not the brother I knew."

Her shoulders sagged under the weight of her words, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I don't know what to do anymore."

Sonni crossed the room and knelt beside her. Without a word, he pulled her into a firm embrace. His arms were warm, steady, grounding her in a way that words couldn't.

"It's okay," he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet strength. "You didn't do anything wrong. If he truly sees you as his sister, why would he want to kill you?" He pulled back slightly, his piercing gaze meeting hers. "You've done your best, Nosaze. You always have. But believe me when I say this—we'll put an end to this. Together."

Nosaze looked into his eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sonni... I saw him hesitate."

Sonni frowned. "Hesitate? What do you mean?"

Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her robe as she searched for the right words. "I don't even know," she confessed, her voice heavy with uncertainty. "When I took off his mask, I thought I'd see his weakness. Instead, I found my own." She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "He's the last lineage of my father's blood. If my father couldn't bring himself to kill him, then how can I, Sonni?"

For a moment, silence enveloped the tent, thick and suffocating. Sonni reached for her hand, his grip firm yet gentle.

"Sometimes, the hardest battles aren't won with weapons or strategy," he said, his voice low and steady. "We'll find a way, Nosaze. We will. But you don't have to carry this burden alone."

She nodded, though doubt still flickered in her eyes. As the night stretched on, her heart felt a faint glimmer of hope—a fragile light in the darkness.

Promises Amidst the Ashes

As Nosaze and Sonni spoke in the dimly lit tent, a messenger hurried inside, bowing respectfully before addressing them.

"Your Highness," the messenger said, his voice urgent, "the people of Afunfun wish to see you."

Sonni exhaled deeply, frustration flickering across his face. Rising to his feet, he adjusted his cloak and stepped outside. Nosaze watched him leave, concern etched in her features.

Outside, a crowd had gathered, their collective grief palpable in the cool evening air. Many were weeping, their faces streaked with tears. At the front stood an elder, his weathered face lined with anguish. He stepped forward, his voice breaking as he spoke.

"Your Highness," the elder began, his tone a mix of sorrow and accusation, "when you came to our land, we welcomed you in good faith. We offered you our hospitality, expecting only a little favor in return. But your stay has brought nothing but curses upon us." He gestured toward the crowd, his voice rising. "First, our High Chief was gravely wounded. Then, your enemies descended upon us like locusts, bringing chaos, destruction, and death. They took our loved ones! Tell me, what did we do to deserve this?"

A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, growing louder as anger mingled with grief. Sonni raised his hands, trying to calm them, but the clamor only intensified.

Suddenly, a commanding voice rang out, silencing the gathering in an instant.

"SILENCE!"

All heads turned toward the source of the voice. Sonni followed their gaze, and his tense posture softened as he saw Nosaze emerging from the tent. Her presence was regal and unyielding, her voice carrying both authority and empathy.

"None of us are to blame," Nosaze declared, her gaze sweeping across the crowd. "We have all done our part, made sacrifices, and endured losses. But let me make one thing clear—this suffering is not because of us. It is because of King Nehizena."

The crowd erupted into murmurs at the mention of the name. Nosaze raised a hand, and the noise subsided.

"My brother and his armies are relentless," she continued. "They do not yield easily, and yes, we lost our grip for a moment. But I assure you, in three days, your loved ones will be returned to you. We will not rest until justice is done."

Her words carried a promise that stirred a spark of hope in the weary faces before her.

"And as for your High Chief," she added, her voice softening, "I am deeply sorry for his condition. He will have justice."

A wave of relief and gratitude washed over the crowd. Some nodded, while others clasped their hands in prayer. Nosaze turned to Sonni and gave him a nod of encouragement.

Sonni's lips curved into a faint smile. With renewed determination, he turned and headed toward the command tent to begin drafting their next plan.

As dawn broke over the Afunfun horizon, the camp stirred with activity. Warriors sharpened their blades, prepared their armor, and whispered strategies among themselves. Sonni stood at the center of the command tent, his brow furrowed as he examined the scouts' reports. Aliou Diallo entered with urgency in his stride.

"Your Highness," Aliou began, bowing slightly, "our scouts have located the captives. They're being held at the Timbuktu trade center. The enemy has fortified the area heavily, but their focus seems to be on maintaining control rather than relocating them."

Sonni's jaw tightened as he turned toward Nosaze, who had joined them moments earlier. "Timbuktu," Sonni said, his voice thoughtful. "That location gives them access to the northern trade routes. They're likely planning to use the captives as leverage—or worse."

Nosaze's fists clenched at her sides. "Then we can't wait any longer. Those people are suffering, Sonni. We must act immediately."

Sonni nodded, his tone resolute. "We will. But this must be done with precision. A reckless attack could endanger them further."

He turned to Aliou. "Inform the army to prepare for departure. Nehikhare isn't getting away this time."

Aliou bowed and exited swiftly, leaving Sonni and Nosaze alone.

"Sonni," Nosaze said hesitantly, stepping closer. "I have a request."

Sonni turned to her, his gaze sharp but curious. "What is it, Nosa?"

"When we capture Nehikhare… let me speak with him," she pleaded, her voice steady but tinged with emotion.

Sonni's expression hardened. "Your brother has no love for you, Nosaze. What if he harms you while you're unguarded?"

Nosaze met his gaze, unwavering. "He's my brother—the last lineage of my father's blood. I believe he's just… lost."

Sonni sighed deeply. "You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment. You've been through too much, Nosa. You should return to Benin and rest." He paused, his tone softening. "But you won't listen to me, will you?"

Nosaze remained silent, and Sonni shook his head. "I can't promise you this, but we'll see."

Nightfall at Timbuktu

As night fell over Timbuktu, the winds howled through the narrow streets, carrying the promise of a storm. Lightning split the sky, illuminating the trade center's towering structures in jagged bursts of light. The captives were confined in a heavily guarded warehouse, their shadows flickering in the glow of enemy torches.

Sonni, Nosaze, and their warriors moved silently through the darkened streets. The storm muffled their movements, and the occasional rumble of thunder masked their approach.

"The storm will conceal us," Sonni whispered. "Aliou, take your team to the southern gate and create a diversion. Nosaze, your team will infiltrate from the east and free the captives. I'll lead an assault from the west to draw their forces."

Nosaze nodded, her expression tense but resolute.

Sonni's tone sharpened. "The captives must wait for the signal before escaping. If they move prematurely, they'll be caught."

Nosaze said nothing, but her gaze lingered on the warehouse. Her heart was heavy, her thoughts clouded with emotion.

The warriors moved into position. Aliou's team launched their assault at the southern gate, drawing enemy guards toward the commotion. Nosaze and her team slipped through the eastern side, dispatching guards with silent precision.

Inside the warehouse, the captives huddled together, their faces gaunt with fear. A young woman cradled a child in her arms, whispering softly to soothe the boy's trembling. Another man glanced toward the barred doors, his expression a mixture of hope and dread.

"Do you think they'll save us?" someone murmured, their voice barely audible.

"They'll come," the man replied, though uncertainty clouded his tone. "We just need to hold on."

The Shadow on the Roof

As the battle raged, Sonni's sharp eyes caught movement above the fray. His heart sank as he spotted a shadowy figure perched on the rooftop of the warehouse, illuminated briefly by a flash of lightning. The figure's posture was commanding, exuding an air of familiarity and menace.

"Nehikhare," Sonni muttered under his breath.

Without hesitation, he broke away from the fight, scaling the side of the warehouse with practiced ease. The winds howled around him, and thunder cracked as he reached the roof.

Standing at the edge was King Nehizena, his cape billowing in the storm. His face was partially obscured, but his cold, calculating gaze was unmistakable.

"Nehikhare!" Sonni called out, his voice cutting through the storm.

"Sonni," Nehizena said, his voice carrying effortlessly over the storm. "I must admit, from the beginning of this war, I never thought you were the one aiding Nosaze. But then I reexamined everything. Tell me, why do you help her? Is it love?" He smirked. "Or is it for the power and influence of her kingdom—something you plan to seize when the dust settles?"

Sonni's face betrayed a flicker of guilt, but he held his ground. "You don't know me, Nehikhare."

Nehizena laughed bitterly. "Oh, but I know enough. Gao's ambitious king, aiding my sister. But let me warn you—she's not as straightforward as you might think. My sister has a witty sense of humor and a strong will, but she often lets her emotions rule her. That's her flaw. That's why she can't decide what's best for Benin."

Sonni's grip on his sword tightened, his anger barely restrained. "You speak of flaws as if you're free of them. You, who turned your father's love into resentment and abandoned the values of justice and honor. You've twisted your kingdom into a shadow of what it could have been."

Nehizena's expression hardened. "Justice, honor—these are illusions for the naïve. Power is all that matters. And you'll learn that soon enough."

Drawing his blade, Sonni stepped forward, his stance unyielding. "Then let's see if your so-called power can stand against justice."

Nehizena's eyes narrowed as he unsheathed his sword. "Let's see if you can even define it."

Their swords clashed, sparks flying as the storm raged around them. Lightning illuminated their duel, each strike a testament to their skill and determination.

A Fatal Mistake

Inside the warehouse, Nosaze's emotions reached a breaking point. The captives' desperate whispers tugged at her heart, their wide eyes filled with fear. She glanced at the doorway where her warriors stood guard, then back at the captives.

"We can't wait any longer," she said, her voice trembling.

"But the signal—" Souleymane began cautiously.

"There's no time!" Nosaze snapped. "Move them now!"

Her team hesitated, then reluctantly obeyed. The captives were ushered toward the exit, but the commotion drew enemy reinforcements. Guards swarmed the area, cutting off their escape.

From the rooftop, Sonni saw the chaos below. His heart sank as the captives ran straight into the enemy's trap.

"Nosaze," he murmured, his voice filled with frustration.

Nehikhare seized the moment, launching a brutal strike. Sonni deflected it, his focus split between the duel and the unfolding disaster.

"Did you really think you could save them?" Nehikhare taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

Retreat

As the storm began to wane, Sonni delivered a powerful blow that forced Nehikhare to retreat. The enemy leader disappeared into the shadows, his mocking laughter echoing in the night.

The battle was lost. Sonni descended from the roof, his expression grim. Nosaze stood among the fallen, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You disobeyed me," Sonni said, his tone cold. "Your emotions clouded your judgment, and now these people have paid the price."

Tears streamed down Nosaze's face. "I thought I was doing the right thing," she whispered.

"The right thing doesn't always feel right," Sonni replied. "Regroup. We're going back to Gao."

The journey back was silent and heavy. Sonni avoided Nosaze, his frustration evident. Nosaze walked with her head bowed, guilt gnawing at her heart. But within her, a spark of determination burned. She would not let this failure define her.

The next morning, as the sun rose over the vast expanse of Gao, the city buzzed with the usual energy of its people, celebrating the return of their leaders. The streets were alive with cheers and music, a stark contrast to the silence that lingered between Sonni and Nosaze. The weight of their failed mission hung heavy in the air, unspoken but palpable.

As Sokora walked through the corridors outside the training grounds, she noticed Sonni leaving, his face as tense as ever. He was alone, his usual confidence replaced by an air of distraction. Without hesitation, Sokora approached him.

"Your highness," she said, her voice smooth but probing, "What borders you?"

Sonni glanced at her briefly, his expression hardening as he answered. "I am okay. It's just the stress from the training. Is there something you wanted to discuss?"

Sokora, ever perceptive, raised an eyebrow. "I've known you since childhood, Sonni. And I can tell that something else borders you. It's not the training. Tell me what happened between you and Nosaze. I see the silence between you two, and it's obvious."

Sonni's frustration was evident. He rolled his eyes and sighed, trying to brush off her concern. "Yes, what of it?"

Sokora stepped closer, her voice soft yet firm. "Sonni, that woman is changing you. She's turning you into someone you're not—making you weak. To be honest with you, I never supported the idea of helping her. That's why I said take what you need from her, and leave her. Let you benefit from this situation, not her. She's decided her fate—let her deal with it."

Her hand brushed against his face in a slow, deliberate motion. Sonni recoiled slightly, but the touch lingered in his mind.

He looked away, his voice low and conflicted. "What you're saying is right. Maybe I should just leave her be, focus on what's good for me and my Kingdom, Sokora."

Sokora's voice remained calm, almost soothing. "Yes, I know you made a promise to your father. But still, consider the promise you made to him regarding this Kingdom."

Sonni hesitated, feeling the weight of her words. His gaze shifted back to Sokora, but his resolve remained. "Thank you for your words, Sokora. But right now, I must reach my chamber."

Sokora gave him a gentle smile, her eyes betraying a hint of sadness. "Alright," she replied softly, watching him walk away.

As Sonni walked down the dimly lit corridor toward his chamber, Sokora's fading smile lingered in his thoughts, though he tried to push it away. Her words echoed in his mind like a whisper of temptation. His footsteps slowed briefly before he shook his head, quickening his pace. There were matters far more pressing than Sokora's counsel—matters that gnawed at his conscience.

When he reached his chamber, just as he reached for the door, he heard Nosaze's voice calling out to him from behind.

"Sonni! Sonni! Please, I need to speak with you." Her voice was desperate, her steps hurried as she ran toward him.

Sonni stiffened but didn't turn. He pushed open the door to his chamber, pretending not to hear her. Nosaze reached out, grabbing his hand.

"Please, listen to me! Please!" she begged.

Sonni withdrew his hand sharply, his voice cold as he stepped inside. "Go away from me. I don't wish to speak with you."

Nosaze, her voice cracking with emotion, pleaded again. "Please, Sonni! I'm sorry for what I did. Please don't ignore me—hear me out, please!"

Her tearful tone brought him to an abrupt halt. He turned back, his eyes blazing with suppressed anger.

"AND WHY WOULD I EVER WANT TO LISTEN TO YOU, HUH? TELL ME!" he shouted, his voice reverberating through the chamber.

Nosaze flinched, her gaze dropping to the ground in shock and fear. She couldn't meet his piercing eyes, her hands trembling slightly as she clasped them in front of her.

Sonni continued, his voice like a storm. "You know what? I think your brother was right—you are not a straightforward person, and it hurts. Just take a look at what you've done, Nosaze. Afunfun remains heartbroken because of your actions."

Nosaze took a step closer, her voice shaking. "Sonni, please forgive me. My actions were stupid, but I can't bear this burden alone. Please help me. We can sort it out if we at least try again. Please, give me another chance."

"Another chance?" Sonni's voice softened briefly, but there was no mistaking the edge in his tone. He stepped toward her, his gaze never leaving hers. "Families, women, and children are out there, suffering in Nehizena's grip, and you want another chance?"

Nosaze tried to speak, but her throat felt dry.

Sonni paused, his anger boiling beneath the surface. Then, his voice rose again. "QUEEN NOSAZE, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY PEOPLE LOST THEIR LIVES BECAUSE OF YOUR MISTAKE?!"

She shook her head slowly, her voice a faint whisper. "No…"

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY FAMILIES ARE MOURNING THEIR LOVED ONES RIGHT NOW?!"

"No…" she replied again, her voice barely audible. She took a cautious step back as Sonni pressed forward, towering over her.

"And if I asked you to bring them back right now, could you?!" Sonni demanded. "TELL ME, NOSAZE! TELL ME!"

Nosaze stumbled as her back hit the table behind her, the items on it clattering noisily as she leaned against it for support. Her wide eyes locked with Sonni's, tears streaming down her cheeks. her lips trembled as she whispered, "You're scaring me…"

Sonni froze at her words. Her trembling form, her tear-filled eyes, and her voice pierced through his anger like a dagger. He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he looked away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Slowly, he stepped back from her, creating a space between them.

Walking to his chair, he picked up his sword and, with a sudden motion, threw it onto the table. The blade clattered loudly, causing Nosaze to flinch. The sound hung in the air like a final exclamation to their argument.

Sonni sat down heavily, resting his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low. His voice came out soft but burdened, trembling under the weight of his emotions. "Do you even realize, Nosaze?" he muttered, not looking at her. "Every time you falter, I falter too. Every mistake you make… it doesn't just cost lives. It costs me pieces of myself."

Nosaze froze in place, his words cutting through her like a blade.

"I trusted you," he continued, his tone rising slightly. "Not just as a queen, but as someone I thought I could count on. Every loss out there… it's not just yours, Nosaze. It's mine too." His hands clenched into fists as he sat forward. "Do you know how it feels to carry someone else's burden because you can't bear to see them fall? Because you believe they'll stand up and be better, only to find out you were wrong?"

Tears welled in Nosaze's eyes as she stepped closer to him, her hands trembling. "Sonni…" she whispered. "I never meant for things to go this way. I never wanted you to suffer because of me."

"And yet, here we are," he said bitterly, finally raising his eyes to meet hers. They were filled with a mixture of pain, anger, and something deeper—something even he couldn't name. "Do you know why I push so hard, why I demand so much? It's because I see something in you, Nosaze. Something that could change everything for the better… but you keep proving me wrong."

She knelt before him, her gaze pleading. "Sonni, please don't give up on me. I know I've let you down. I've let everyone down, but I swear, I'll do better. Just… don't turn away from me. I need you."

Her voice cracked on the last words, and something in Sonni shifted. He looked at her, truly looked at her, and saw the desperation in her eyes. It mirrored the ache in his heart. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against hers.

"You don't understand, do you?" he said quietly, his voice softening. "Everything I do… everything I've done… it's because I can't stand to see you fail. Your victories are my victories. Your failures…" His voice faltered, and he looked away. "They cut me deeper than any sword."

Nosaze's tears fell freely now, but she didn't look away. She tightened her grip on his hand, her voice steady despite the emotion choking her. "Then let me prove to you that I can be the person you believe I am. Let me carry my share of the burden. I can't do this without you, Sonni. And I won't let you carry this alone."

Sonni stared at her for a long moment, the tension in his body easing slightly. The anger, the disappointment—it didn't vanish, but it dulled, replaced by something softer. With a resigned sigh, he nodded. "Don't make me regret this, Nosaze."

"You won't," she promised, her voice firm. "I'll prove it to you."

For the first time that evening, a faint glimmer of hope flickered between them. Though the road ahead was uncertain, they found a fragile understanding—a bond that could mend or break, depending on the steps they took next.

Chains of Dominion

The gates of Nehizena's fortress creaked open, a foreboding sound that sent chills through the spines of the remaining captives from Afunfun. The king's army, weary but victorious, marched in, their boots pounding against the stone floor like a steady drumbeat. At the heart of the procession was Nehizena, his presence commanding and cold, his eyes scanning the courtyard with a calculated air.

As he dismounted, one of his messengers approached with haste, bowing low. "My king, the people of Meroe have come to see you."

Nehizena's face remained inscrutable, though a flicker of something crossed his eyes—expectation, perhaps, but veiled in his usual calm. "Send them to the waiting hall," he said evenly. "I will see them when I am ready."

The messenger hesitated for a moment, sensing the weight behind the king's words but not daring to question him. "Yes, my king," he replied, bowing before retreating swiftly

Nehizena stood silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He knew why the people of Meroe had come—they sought Erhahon, his son, who had disguised himself to stay close to his father. it was a secret arrangement, one Nehizena had carefully kept from his court. He would honor his part of the agreement, but only on his own terms.

Turning to his trusted general, Ekundayo, Nehizena's voice grew colder. "Gather the captives," he commanded. "I have something to say to them."

Ekundayo, a man forged in the fires of conquest and cruelty, grinned at the order. "It will be done, my king," he said, bowing deeply before setting off.

Within moments, the courtyard was filled with the defeated people of Afunfun, their faces etched with exhaustion and despair. Ekundayo's soldiers herded them with little care, forcing them to kneel under the watchful eyes of their captors. Among them, however, one man rose to his feet, defiance burning in his eyes.

"You will not rule us!" he shouted, breaking free from the line. With a makeshift weapon in hand, he charged directly at Nehizena.

The king did not flinch. With a speed that seemed almost inhuman, he sidestepped the attack, drawing his blade in one fluid motion. The man's throat was slit before he could even process his failure. Blood splattered onto the ground as his body crumpled, lifeless, at Nehizena's feet.

A gasp rippled through the captives, followed by a chilling silence. Nehizena cleaned his blade with a cloth handed to him by one of his guards, his movements deliberate and calm.

"Let this be your first and last mistake," Nehizena said, his voice low yet cutting. "Defiance will not be tolerated under my rule."

Ascending to the top floor of the fortress, Nehizena surveyed the trembling crowd. Ekundayo stepped forward, his booming voice commanding their attention.

"Behold your new king!" Ekundayo declared, his tone sharp and merciless. "King Nehizena! Listen well to his words, for they will decide your fate."

Nehizena raised his hand, and the courtyard fell silent once more. "Your lives are no longer your own," he said, his tone cold and measured. "Your land, your people, your futures—they now belong to me. Obedience will earn you survival. Resistance will earn you death."

The captives dared not raise their eyes to meet his, their spirits already crushed under the weight of his authority. Nehizena let the silence linger, then turned to Ekundayo with a nod, dismissing him to manage the crowd.

As Nehizena walked away, his thoughts lingered briefly on the people of Meroe waiting for his decision. Their request for Erhahon's safety was a secret he intended to uphold—for now.

Nehizena stood in the chamber, his eyes fixed on the head of the Meroe delegation. Though his posture was as commanding as ever, there was a flicker of something softer when the messenger spoke.

"You can do what you came to do," Nehizena said calmly. "Take Erhahon home. Make sure you protect him with everything you have."

The messenger inclined his head respectfully. "That will be done, as you instructed, my king. However, I also bring a message from Tarhaqa."

Nehizena's expression shifted, his sharp gaze locking onto the messenger. "And what is it?"

The messenger stepped forward, his tone measured and deliberate. "Tarhaqa sends his regards and bids me to remind you of the friendship you once shared. He also warns that your conquest, though mighty, is stretching thin. He asks that you consider another path before it is too late."

Nehizena narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening slightly. "Another path?"

"Yes," the messenger continued. "He says this road of blood and domination leads only to isolation, both from allies and from your own people. He warns that rebellion brews not only among your enemies but within your lands. The chains of conquest do not hold forever, and when they break, they may drag you down with them."

Nehizena's face darkened, but he did not interrupt.

The messenger pressed on, his voice softening. "Tarhaqa does not wish to see you fall, my king. He implores you to remember the ideals you once spoke of—to unite, not subjugate. He asks you to consider peace, to consolidate what you have built rather than reaching endlessly for more. He believes you still have the wisdom to choose a path that ensures lasting legacy, not ruin."

Silence filled the chamber, the weight of the words hanging heavy between them. Nehizena turned away, walking to the edge of the room where a narrow window overlooked his sprawling fortress. His hands clasped behind his back, his voice was low but firm when he spoke.

"Tarhaqa always did believe in peace," he said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "But he forgets that peace is not given—it is taken. It is forged in fire, not in weakness."

The messenger hesitated, then said, "Perhaps, my king. But Tarhaqa believes that true strength lies not in the fire itself, but in knowing when to extinguish it. He asks you to reflect on this before the flames consume everything."

Nehizena stood still for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Finally, he turned back to the messenger.

"Tell Tarhaqa this," he said, his voice steely. "I value his counsel as a friend. But the choices I make are mine alone. If he wishes for peace, let him come to me and show me a way that does not demand my surrender."

The messenger bowed. "I will deliver your words, my king."

As the delegation prepared to leave, Nehizena lingered in the chamber, his thoughts clouded with the echoes of Tarhaqa's message. For all his confidence, there was a part of him that could not ignore the warning from a man who had always spoken with honesty—and who had never betrayed him.

The road ahead seemed darker than before, with shadows cast not just by his enemies, but by his own ambitions.

The loud beating of battle drums echoed across the gathering, signaling the presence of Sonni's army and Nosaze's warriors. The soldiers stood in neat formations, their eyes fixed on the horizon as the rhythmic sound of the drums resonated with the pulse of the land. The air was thick with anticipation.

Sonni walked steadily toward the center of the gathering, holding a short horse tail staff high above his head. The staff, adorned with intricate beads and royal carvings, was a symbol of his authority—a sign that he was ready to speak to his people.

As Sonni raised the horse tail staff, the drums fell silent. The entire assembly stood still, as if the very earth itself held its breath. The soldiers stood at attention, eyes fixed on their king, waiting for him to address them. The weight of the moment hung in the air, and for a heartbeat, nothing moved.

Sonni reached the center of the gathering, standing tall and strong. He paused for a moment, letting the silence deepen, feeling the weight of the eyes upon him.

He raised the horse tail staff once more, his voice carrying across the field. "Brothers, sisters, warriors of Gao and Benin," Sonni's voice rang out, clear and strong. "Today, we stand at a crossroads. The battles we've fought, the blood we've spilled, it has all led to this moment. What is it that we fight for?"

His eyes scanned the crowd, watching as the soldiers exchanged glances. "We do not fight for land or riches. We do not fight for power. We fight for the people. We fight for those whose cries have gone unheard, whose suffering has been ignored for far too long. We fight to restore what has been stolen from them."

Sonni's voice softened, but his words carried a deep conviction. "We are not just soldiers. We are protectors. We are the shield for those who cannot defend themselves. We are the hope for the families torn apart by tyrants."

He turned his gaze toward Nosaze's warriors. "Queen Nosaze and her forces have stood by us in this fight, not as allies, but as comrades. Her strength is our strength. Together, we stand as one, united in purpose."

The king paused for a moment, allowing his words to settle before continuing. "This war is not about vengeance. It is not about our egos or our pride. It is about justice. It is about giving every kingdom the chance to live in peace, free from oppression and tyranny."

Sonni's voice grew more resolute. "We will not falter. We will not be swayed. We will march forward, not with anger, but with purpose. Together, we will free those in bondage. Together, we will restore what was lost."

With that, Sonni crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of royal authority, his stance proud and unwavering. His eyes blazed with determination. "For justice," he said, his voice strong and commanding.

A wave of cheers erupted from the crowd. The drums began to beat again, louder than before, as the soldiers rallied behind their king. The sound of the drums seemed to pulse through the air, filling the warriors with renewed energy and resolve.

Sonni stood tall, his heart beating in rhythm with the drums. The road ahead was uncertain, but in this moment, with the strength of his people behind him, he felt unstoppable.

Sonni walked toward Nosaze, his footsteps measured and heavy, each one echoing with the weight of what he was about to say. The others had retreated to give them privacy, and now, alone with her, he spoke in a low, guarded tone.

"Did you hear of the fall of Wagadu?" he asked, his gaze steady but distant.

Nosaze's eyes widened in surprise. "Wagadu is a member of my chamber," she replied, her voice tinged with disbelief. "But I didn't know he has fallen."

Sonni's face tightened. "Your brother enslaved him and his people. On top of that, he killed Mansa Ka'aba's first son, Kunta," he said, the words heavy with the sting of betrayal.

He paused for a moment, letting the gravity of his statement sink in. "Your brother has so much blood on his hands that even if he steps foot in the West for reconciliation, he will be a dead man. There will be no forgiveness for him. No mercy."

Nosaze's expression faltered, her heart aching with the weight of the truth. She had known Nehizena was ruthless, but to hear of such atrocities was something else entirely. Her brother's actions had set a ripple through the kingdoms, one that would be impossible to reverse.

"But still," Sonni continued, his voice softening, "I will honor my promise to you. You will have the chance to speak with him, as we agreed. But be careful, Nosaze." His gaze sharpened. "He won't hesitate to harm you in the process."

Nosaze nodded silently, her thoughts swirling. She knew the path ahead was fraught with danger, but she couldn't turn away from the opportunity to confront her brother. Not when so much was at stake.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice tinged with gratitude and fear. "I will be careful."

Sonni gave her a solemn nod before turning to leave, his mind already set on the next steps of their journey. The fragile bond between them still held, but it was clear that neither of them could afford to trust the other fully—not yet, not with everything at stake.