The wooden cage creaked softly in the evening breeze, its splintered edges and rusting hinges a stark contrast to the lush greenery surrounding the vigilante hut. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, mingling with the acrid smoke rising from the nearby cooking fires. Inside the cage, Mairo and Rimi sat huddled together, their backs pressed against the rough wood, their eyes darting nervously between the gaps, watching the village square that now felt like a different world entirely.

The light was dimming, but the women's fear was a sharp, jagged thing, slicing through the gathering dusk. Mairo's breathing was shallow, her golden eyes wide and alert, while Rimi's hands trembled as she clutched her friend's arm, as though the mere contact could shield them from the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"Mairo," Rimi whispered, her voice barely a breath, trembling as if uttering the words might summon some unseen doom. "What are we to do? We don't even understand their words... their eyes, their gestures. We're like... like lambs lost in the wild."

Mairo swallowed, her throat dry and tight, as if the words she needed were lodged somewhere deep within her chest. "We wait," she said finally, though the confidence in her tone was forced, fragile. "We must not show fear. If we do, they will think us weak. We may not understand their language, but they will understand our strength."

Rimi shook her head, tears welling in her eyes, glistening like dew in the fading light. "But how, Mairo? How do we find strength when we don't know what they plan to do to us? They... they have no mercy, no understanding."

Mairo clenched her jaw, forcing herself to meet Rimi's gaze. "We cannot think of that now. We must think of escape... or wait until we can speak to someone who will listen. There must be someone." She hesitated, then added, "And if not, then we fight. We do not let them take us without a struggle."

A heavy silence hung between them, as the distant murmur of village chatter drifted through the night. Rimi's shoulders slumped, but she leaned closer to Mairo, drawing some measure of comfort from her friend's resolve. "I hope you are right, Mairo. I don't want to die here."

Mairo said nothing, but the silence spoke volumes — of fears unspoken, of hopes quickly fading, and of the cold, creeping realization that whatever fate awaited them was entirely out of their hands.

Their whispered conversation was abruptly cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps, the rhythmic thud of bare feet on the packed earth. Mairo stiffened, glancing through the gaps in the cage. Emerging from the shadows, Amadi came into view, flanked by two guards. But it was the man walking beside him who caught the women's attention. He was older, his presence commanding, and there was no mistaking the significance of his attire.

Draped over one shoulder, his robes were fastened with a elegant knot — a single, sweeping fabric, pinned carefully to leave his arms free. The folds of the robe fell gracefully, and around his neck hung thick, heavy beads that clinked softly as he walked, their reddish hue contrasting against his dark skin. Similar beads adorned his wrists, thick and intricate, marking him as a person of considerable wealth and power.

The man's face was stern, his eyes sharp and calculating as they surveyed the two women in the cage, before turning his attention back to Amadi.

"Onowu," Amadi greeted, bowing slightly, the deference in his tone unmistakable. "I did not expect to see you here tonight."

The Onowu's lips curved into a faint smile, one that did not reach his eyes. "It is rare that I find matters worthy of my personal attention, Amadi, but I heard of these... visitors, and I thought I should see for myself." He took a step closer to the cage, studying Mairo, his gaze lingering on her eyes. "Yes... beautiful eyes," he murmured, almost to himself. "She would make a fitting addition to my concubines. The gods have blessed me with many sons, but one can never have too many beautiful women."

Amadi's eyes flicked towards Mairo, then back to the Onowu, his brow furrowing slightly. "Onowu, with respect, these women did not come here willingly. Orji himself brought them, seeking justice. They were caught stealing from his land."

The Onowu's expression did not change, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Orji?" he said, as if tasting the name, rolling it around his tongue. "The recluse farmer? Yes, I know of him... the man who hides away from the world. And now he decides to bring these strangers, as if he suddenly has a stake in our laws." He laughed softly, a low, mocking sound. "Do not concern yourself, Amadi. I will handle Orji. He is not one to cause trouble, and if he does, well... I have ways of dealing with such matters."

Amadi hesitated, glancing at the guards who stood silently by, awaiting their orders. "Onowu, I must insist... these women, they—"

"You must do nothing, Amadi," the Onowu interrupted, his tone sharp, his eyes cold. "You have done your duty, and for that, I commend you. But this matter no longer concerns you." He reached into the folds of his robe, retrieving a small, cloth bag. The faint clinking of cowries could be heard as he tossed it to Amadi, who caught it with a practiced ease. "Take this, and ensure no further... complications arise."

Amadi's hand tightened around the bag, but he did not open it. He knew what it contained — payment, hush money. His eyes flickered to the Onowu's, searching for something, anything that might betray a weakness, but found only steely resolve. "As you wish, Onowu," he said finally, bowing his head.

The Onowu nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now," he gestured to one of his guards, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek. "Take the girl," he said, his eyes returning to Mairo. "She will come with me."

As the Onowu spoke, Amadi's gaze flickered to the cage, where Mairo and Rimi sat huddled. He had always prided himself on upholding the law, but now, the weight of the cowries in his hand felt like a chain, binding him to a decision he wasn't sure he could live with. The Onowu was powerful, and defying him could mean trouble, but handing over the young woman felt... wrong. Yet, what could he do against a man like that?

Mairo's eyes widened as the guard moved forward, his large hands reaching through the cage bars. "No," she whispered in her language, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. "No, please—"

But the guard was unyielding, his grip like iron as he hauled her to her feet. Mairo's heart pounded, her mind racing as she searched for something to say, something that might delay the inevitable. "Rimi!" she cried.

"No!" Rimi shouted, her voice cracking. She scrambled to her feet, clawing at the wooden bars, her fingers splintering against the rough surface. "Please, don't take her! Please!" But her pleas fell on ears who could not understand, and as Mairo was dragged away, Rimi's legs buckled beneath her, a scream caught in her throat.

The Onowu's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "See, Amadi? No need for concern. All will be well. Return to your post, and leave the rest to me."

Amadi said nothing, but as he watched the Onowu lead the guards away, Mairo in tow, a pang of unease twisted in his gut. He had always served the law, upheld justice as best he could, but tonight, he had seen something darker, something that made him question where his loyalty truly lay.

And as the village settled into the stillness of the night, the echoes of Mairo's cries lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of how quickly power could twist justice to serve its own ends.

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