A Love Story Untold Read online

“Chacha Renchoka!” I call out aloud.

  “Your royal highness!” He responds with an exaggerated bow.

  “What do you mean by this?”

  “We are to perform, sire. The audience awaits!”

  “The audience eagerly awaits!” Is the loud call from the a couple hundred or so gathered here with us tonight.

  “With pleasure we perform!” I call, to which Chacha and I then take the moment to introduce our chanted poem, jumping high into the air and landing back down to immediately drop onto our knees, calling out our intro.

  “Seasons, wars, winds, kings of vast lands,

  Things of past and future grands!

  But her smile I swear, her smile-

  Never before did one so beguile!”

  We chant loud in unisoned synchrony, that has the crowd cheering as they now realise it is to be a love poem.

  How befitting that I should perform a love poem tonight, when I first realize that I’m at a great risk of being in love, if I’m not in love already. I know who Chacha’s singing to- my sister. What he doesn’t know is I’m not just singing it for fun, I’m chanting it to one whose eyes have me bewitched.

  “I’ll sing her a song I’ll chant of her beauty, I swear,

  Dare you stop me my anger will sure flare!

  Watch out, my love ‘tis a violent one that I gear,

  Let any that dares steal my love away forever me revere!

  For my vengeance is best delivered by my spear-

  Of sharpest steel that you, brother, should fear!”

  We call passionately, the girls cheering on passionately.

  It’s a puzzling matter indeed that Bakoria girls do dearly love to hear that their men love them so much that they would kill for them. It makes us to sound like a more violently nation than we in actuality are.

  “I love her I do,

  I dare you trouble to spew!

  Then you’ll surely rue,

  For my spear your insides will sprew!

  So pray listen when I say- I love her, I do!”

  We finish, to which the audience passionately cheers.

  I’m so affected by the chanted poem we composed, that rather than remain before the audience and take the praise from different directions, I rush back to where I’d been seated a while back and chug a large gulp of drink, looking anywhere but at her.

  Chacha and I have performed that silly piece of poetry many times before, but never has it ever affected me so. Never before have its words ever rang so true and meaningful to me. We’d composed it together, found the right words and silly intentions to put in it, and dedicated ourselves into making it sound violently passionate.

  It had just been a laughable exercise for me back then. But tonight, tonight it held meaning. For I swear at this moment I feel as though I’d truly sprew the insides of anyone that attempts to steal her attentions away from me.

  How dare she make me feel so passionately about her? Who is she, and what is it that she has that other women don’t that I should be so enslaved to my affections for her?

  I’ll get her out of my head tonight. That girl among her peers likes to easily give, if you promise not to spend inside her. She’s been attempting to seduce me for a long while now. I’ll give in tonight to her, just so I can wipe my mind clean of all thoughts of the mousy princess.

  Chapter 19

  I’m distracted and bothered, and not even the knowledge that tonight is the last night I’m to spend with my sister can dissuade my thoughts from him.

  I love her I do,

  I dare you trouble to spew!

  Then you’ll surely rue,

  For my spear your insides will sprew!

  I remember the passionately delivered words as clear as day. He’d not been looking my way, no in fact he’d been looking away, affording me just the view of his toned back muscles that flexed with tensions as he delivered the passionate love poem.

  I love her I do! He’d claimed.

  I know it to only be a poem. No way he could ever feel so for anyone, not the least for me. However that knowledge does not stop me from tossing and turning so much that my mother and sisters kick me out of the tent we are snuggled in.

  “You’re clearly not sleepy,” mother says. “Your sister has a big day tomorrow and needs her beauty sleep. Go take a walk or something, then come back when your nerves have calmed down,” mother says kindly.

  They think I’m so troubled because of the thoughts of losing my sister to another family tomorrow. That thought had troubled me for many nights before this one. Tonight I’m haunted by passionate words, delivered from the lips of a face that owns those eyes that haunt my dreams and leave me begging for the firm hands that once held me before.

  I do exit the tent, and after wandering about aimlessly, I finally make up my mind to go visit the Bridal mare at the animal shed, and see to it that she’s resting well for her big day tomorrow.

  This kingstead does scare me so, for I remember the rows of skulls on spearheads that had surrounded the home. Why would anyone find the need to make their fence appear so gruesomely uninviting? I’m just glad that Wei is marrying Maga Irege’s nephew, and not any of his sons. Had she being marrying one of the king’s sons, she’d have been forced to live in here. That fact doesn’t seem to trouble Wei at all, for she thinks the Bairege pride in being the harshest of warriors with the bravest of hearts charming. I don’t think it so, so I’m very sure I’d never agree to marry an Irege man. I only wish to marry a Bagumbe man and remain a subject in my father’s kingdom. Or maybe a Nyabasi..

  Stop it! I scold myself harshly.

  I see the shining striped hide of my darling mare and approach it excitedly, only to stifle a low scream when I see beyond the mare a pair of bodies writhing against each other passionately.

  I throw my hands over my mouth and attempt to back up slowly, however my low scream did not go unnoticed, and two pairs of dark faces turn my way, both pairs of eyes as familiar to me as day. One pair of eyes is from Nyangi, the girl among my peers that bears the same name as my own. But that is where our similarities stop. The other pairs of eyes are his.

  I don’t know why, but rather than embarrassment or disdain been the first emotions to hit me, it is pain that hits me first. Pain so raw, as sharply pointed as a spear, that cuts deep into the organs of my body and leaves large gaping holes bleeding profusely. A pain so deep and raw that has me turning around and not only walking fast paced, but I soon begin running too, to where, I have no idea.

  I keep running and running, I run so fast that my chest burns. I run faster than I ever thought I could, my vision blinded by tears, my head light and distracted, a gut wrenching sensation at the tip of my stomach.

  I finally stop. A sudden stop- knocking against a slim tree on my way, banging my mouth against it so that I accidentally bite hard into my lip and drawing blood. I slam my hand against my mouth, and my eyes look out into the vast plains sprawling out before me this dark night.

  Then I hear movement behind me. Cautious movement. An animal, I realize to myself, but surprise myself by not panicking or attempting to flee. If it is a wild animal, then let it be. I don’t care for anything anymore. I don’t care, because a hope so great for something I never even thought I entertained was crushed back at the animal shed.

  “Princes,” the voice calls from behind me. I know the voice well, and it only goes to wrench my insides even more, causing me as much physical pain as my emotional one, that I buckle against the tree.

  “Are you alright..?”

  “Leave me alone,” I manage to tell him in a restrained whisper, a cascade of tears pouring down my face silently and unseen under the dark night’s cloak.

  “Alright.. I.. Pardon me! I must clarify something with you. What you saw back there, you oughtn’t tell anyone, as you’ll ruin the girl..”

  “So you don’t plan on marrying her yet you took her?” I ask puzzled, still looking away from him. “You took the daughter of a fellow mura o
f whom you had no right to. You defiled another warrior’s future wife..?” Yet again, remains unvoiced.

  “Stop with all your naivety and self righteous judgments. We both used each other. She knew what she was getting into and she agreed to it.” I choose not to argue with him, for I honestly just want to be left alone. I do not want to think of what I witnessed. I do not want to think of him and her..

  “You can never tell anyone!” He says firmly, an almost detached tone in his voice. I ignore him, hoping he’ll leave me alone.

  “Do you hear me? You must not..”

  “I hear you loud and clear, prince of the Nyabasi!” I now say venomously, my pain turning into anger that gives me enough courage to turn around and meet his burning gaze this dark night.

  “Such vulgar words as I’d need to describe what you two were about would never ordinarily leave my mouth!” I tell him off with a clipped tone, and there’s no mistaking the judgment in my voice.

  “How very noble and cultured of you!” He spits out sarcastically, an anger equally raging at the base of his tone. What has he to be angry about?

  “Why thank you!” Who said I couldn’t master some sarcasm of my own too.

  “Well.. good night! See you tomorrow at the celebrations of your sister’s wedding, princess,” he says after some extended silence, before turning around and rushing away, leaving me out here on my own.

  I take the time to calm my nerves, and to remind myself that I have no right being hurt because he chose to be in the arms of another woman. I always knew that I’d never get him. I always knew that he was just a fantasy of mine that tortured my nights. He was never born for me, and I was definitely never born for him. I just have to always keep that in mind, and then maybe his actions won’t affect me so.

  Oh spirits of my fathers, help me! How my heart bleeds at this very moment!

  Chapter 20

  As sad as it is to know that after today I’m not sure when I’ll next see my sister, I’m glad that today is a wedding day, because the busy events of the ceremony will see to it that my mind doesn’t venture down the road of what I witnessed last night.

  Luckily, Nyangi’s face is not one I’m to see until way later at midday, as we spend all morning making my sister even more beautiful than I have previously seen her, which I at first thought impossible.

  Wei’s is radiant, and she smells like a dream flower garden of exotic flowers and honey, her skin dark and supple, glowing with youthful vibrance under the oils. Her bridal dress has once again been shone and dusted, the netted thin chains of precious metal with dozens and dozens of embedded stones glistening bright and sure with this late dry summer morning sun.

  Songs and dance outside our tent let us know that our party of bridal escorts is more than ready to deliver the new bride to her home. Matinde and I now rush to prepare ourselves, but no matter how my body glows, or how many compliments my mother and sisters give me, I feel ugly today. I feel so ugly that all I want to do is hide away.

  My family is worried. They fear that an attack is imminent, and mother commissions Matinde to keep an eye on me all day, to which she promptly agrees as she does not wish my attacks to embarrass our family.

  I wish to reassure them, and tell them that I’ll be fine because the last thing I want is to destroy the wedding day of my favourite sister. However I do not want to make empty promises, for I can feel the premises of my nervous attacks. I shall have to be extra careful today to avoid all manners of anxiety. That means avoid sources of anxiety at all costs.

  That is harder said than done. At midday we begin the short trek to Wei’s new form. The Bairege king’s brother does not live far from the kingstead, of course. The king’s brother lives in the same homestead with his sons, like my father and my brothers do. It is the Bakoria custom.

  I dance alongside my peers, but take great pains in not looking Nyangi’s way. I made a mental decision to protect my delicate heart last night, and that decision includes ignoring her at all costs. She’ll not attempt to say anything to me either, as we both know that she was on the wrong in this matter, and the last thing she wants is my getting distressed and telling it to another soul.

  I would never tell another, whether he’d asked me to keep silent or not. What good would it do to tell that the daughter of my neighbour is not a maiden anymore, and that the prince of Nyabasi is guilty, but has no intentions of claiming her for his own.

  Since when did our society become so perverse? What do our forefathers say upon witnessing such blatant corrosion of morals, where a young warrior can presume to plough another fellow warrior’s daughter, yet not have the decency to make an honest woman of her?

  Forgive us, dear gods! Forgive us spirits! I’m muttering to myself rather than sing the jovial wedding songs accompanied by the vigorous dance routines.

  The elder women of Wei’s new family rush out to meet us when we reach just beyond the gates. I finally breathe easy, for their joining us relieves the young warriors that have been in our company for days, and they rush off ahead to join the celebrations, while we women take our time dancing and singing together with the bride as we slowly guide her through the gates into her new home.

  I perform the motions of the wedding as though an empty headed marionette being stringed. I never miss a dance step, and never falter to join my peers and fellow maidens into making the party lively with our suggestive dancing, a sacrifice to the goddess of fertility to bless our peers. To bless my sister.

  Matinde keeps a close eye on me, for I often catch her eyes directed my way. I see as a new found respect grows in her eyes for me, for she sees the determined way with which I grit my jaw and fold my fists. I will master my anxiety, even if it is only for today. Then after tonight I’ll beg my father or one of my brothers to let me ride home with them, rather than having to trek back with my peers and the young warriors. I cannot stand any more time with them, I cannot stand anymore time trying not to look his way, trying not to think of him, yet also hoping that he’s thinking of me somehow, despite the wrong I know he’s done. Twice now, I’ve witnessed it.

  Gods help me!

  Wei is successful wedded, I note, cheering exuberantly with my peers. I then make my way cautiously to where my father and brothers seat, which also means I must pass the Nyabasi dignitary area where the Nyabasi king and his son and daughter are engaged in a lively conversation.

  My eyes facing the ground, my mind murmuring to itself to attempt to block the sound of his voice, I walk up to my father.

  “Father, my king,” I say, bowing low before him, noting how tired and winded he looks. The days are getting colder, and father needs to get back home so as not to exert his chest too much.

  As customs dictate, the morning we begun our bridal walk is the morning my father and brothers rode out here to start the celebrations. Had Wei been marrying into our kingdom, her wedding would only have lasted one day and one night. Instead, father and my brothers had to leave home just as we left it, and had to stay here until we arrived. Four days is a long time, no wonder he’s tired.

  “Princess, my little pumpkin,” father chooses to answer me, rather than acknowledge me as his daughter. I’m not the least bit offended, and rather glow at his attention. I next greet my brothers, who each call me their little pumpkin instead of acknowledging me as their sister.

  When all matters of niceties are dealt with, I set to lay down my request.

  “Father I know it’s most unheard of, but I beg leave that tonight when you and my brothers ride home, that I might ride with you,” I finally say when granted room to.

  Bright studious eyes matching my own hold mine now.

  “I already spoke with your mother,” he wheezes quietly. “She placed the request already, for she fears that this great trek has been an exertion on your nerves,” he continues. I do not correct him- that it isn’t the trek but rather a certain prince that is the reason my hands can’t stop shaking and my heart won’t slow down it’s beating.

>   “Of course. You may ride with us,” he finishes.

  “Thank you father,” I now say, greatly relieved at the fact that I shan’t have to spend the next couple days singing beside Nyangi, while a little far off is the Nyabasi prince and his unnerving eyes.

  Teary goodbyes to my sister, dancing and singing, and animal sacrifices to the gods to bless the newlyweds keep me so busy, that sooner than I know it, it is time to head back home.

  One of the pair of beasts that had pulled the wagons of presents for Weigesa’s new family is untied for me. However, one of my brothers, Mogesi, is so kind as to suggest that he rides that beast, as it’s not a very trustworthy animal to ride, and he let’s me ride his less temperamental stallion. I thank him profusely, but he refuses to hear a word of it.

  “Do you think she’ll be happy without us, father?” I ask as I ride beside him.

  “Undoubtedly, yes,” he tells me affirmatively. “She loves him dearly, and he loves her equally as much.”

  “I don’t understand how she could love him,” I admit with a low voice. “He’s a Bairege after all..!”

  “How very prejudiced of you, daughter! Bairege or not, he’s a Bakoria warrior.”

  “I know father,” I quickly say apologetically, but I notice the glint in his eyes that lets me know he’s not really angry with me.

  “The Bairege tales of cruelty are just that, tales. They are as soft inside as all Bakoria men. They just harden their shells outside because they enjoy being revered and feared to be beasts of men,” he explains to me.

  “And I know for a fact that that near beastly demeanor has very many girls weak in their knees. It is what Bakoria women desire most, a beast for a man. Isn’t it? I’m honestly surprised that I, a weakling Bagumbe man, captured the heart of a Bakira princess,” he goes on to add good-humoredly, to which I chuckle.

  “You’re not a weakling father, and you know it,” I tell him firmly, and we both chuckle at this.

  That is the moment I see him, the prince, riding on a beautiful stallion, following after his father the king as they make their way towards my father.