Onochie was out of breath as well as ideas. He could not figure out how to get to Ezinwanyi. Every servant he'd asked about her had murmured something noncommital about her being around before running away like prey being hunted after.

He wasn't sure when he became a scary witch that could scare men and women away from him. It was impossible to gather information when every servant he'd met could only stutter through a string of incoherent nonsense before speeding away. At this rate, Onochie was worried he would never find her.

Perhaps she had disappeared into thin air or left Zoro. While the first was clearly implausible, a thorn of fear pricked at the king that, indeed, Ezinwanyi might have packed her bags and taken her leave, returning to her true home.

If he was reasoning logically, Onochie might have surmised that her departure might be a good development since Ifediaso would be unable to reach her anymore. But he wasn't. No, he didn't want to analyse the merits of Ezinwanyi leaving from a place not encumbered by his illicit feelings.

He wasn't ready to embrace the inescapable guilt that would surely rise from recognising that he was simultaneously harbouring sentiments for two women.

On his third tramp round the queen mother's palace, Onochie was accosted by his very own trustee guard. Kamalu reached the king in long, powerful strides. "My king," he went down on one knee.

Kamalu's loincloth was of a new pattern Onochie had not seen before. It was likely a recent kill. On further inspection, Onochie pinpointed the tawny coat, spotted with dark marks, as that of a leopard's. It was most impressive wrapped around the waist of the Herculean man standing before him. Once again, in the rising of a new day, the extent of Kamalu's strength dawned on him.

"Rise, Kamalu," Onochie noted wistfully, that if it came down to it, he could not compete with Kamalu in terms of physical prowess and domination. Stood against his guard, he could not see a reason why Ezinwanyi would choose him. It wasn't like he needed her to, anyway. He only was taking stock of his strengths and weaknesses.

"Pardon my insolence, my lord, but I heard you were outside your palace without any guards and made my way here to ensure your safety. It is not safe to go out without protection, Your Majesty. I fear for your security."

Onochie felt he was being talked down to like a child. This notion circled in his head as he replied hotly, "I believe you were employed to do my bidding and not the other way around, Kamalu. I am free to do what I want when I want. Do not entertain the condescending notion that I cannot fend for or defend myself."

Kamalu dropped to both his knees. "Forgive me, my lord. I am sorry for offending you. Please, find it in your heart to pardon me for my blunder. Please, Your Majesty."

The guard's pleas touched Onochie so profoundly that he stopped to contemplate why he had been so short with Kamalu. It all boiled down to a single factor, and that was Ezinwanyi. Onochie felt incredibly stupid for troubling his friend in this manner, all because he'd stupidly imagined Ezinwanyi with him. It was the height of being pathetic.

"Ease yourself, Kamalu. It is me who should ask for your forgiveness. I am not angry with you, and I do not even know why I was hot-tempered initially. Do not hold a grudge against me, my friend."

Kamalu rose to his feet, smiling at his king. "I am not worthy of holding a grudge against my great ruler. You are far too kind to me, my lord. Nothing will keep me from protecting you with my life, Your Majesty.

"I understand that I overstep my boundaries more often than a servant should, and I am sorry for my transgressions. Nonetheless, I will continue to guard you even if it means my death. My life is worth living because I live it for you, my lord."

Onochie smiled ruefully, clapping Kamalu on the shoulder. "That is not enough, Kamalu." He cautioned as he would a brother of his.

"I do not understand, Your Majesty. What is not enough? Living for you? I shall also die for you if you wish, my king. Any day you ask me to, I shall lay down my life for you and die a happy man, my lord."

The king studied the blue sky, void of cotton clouds and as vivid as a gem. It spread like a cheerful wrapper over the heavens. "You must find someone else to live for, Kamalu."

"There is no one else like that for me, my lord."

Kamalu's head was lowered as he peered at his dusty feet. Onochie let the silence bloom before them, a flower loaded with toxins. He spoke at last, softly so, "Then you must find one. You must find a woman that you shall live for...and perhaps, also die for."

"Maybe someday, my lord—if the gods will it."

"That is good enough for now." Onochie humphed in approval. "Now, I presume that you might have some news to share with me."

Kamalu laced his fingers behind him and nodded. "Indeed, I do, Your Majesty. Might you prefer to sit comfortably underneath a shade, my lord?"

Onochie refused. "No," it would do him no good to go off course in search of comfort when he had not put his mind to rest by unearthing Ezinwanyi's location. After he did that and confirmed that she was unharmed, he would let himself indulge in the conveniences that contributed to the ease of his life. Until then, he could not tarry or linger too long. "Give me a brief summary for now."

Kamalu bowed at the command. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

"Unless it is a matter too important to be spoken outside in such an informal setting, then spit it all out."

"I have found some evidence to connect the deaths we found months ago to Chief Iwegbuna, my lord."

Onochie could barely keep his jaw from dropping open in shock. "What—when—how do you know this?"

"Only recently, I dug into the origins of the land outside the main village. I found that the land was once governed by the Iwegbuna family. It was abandoned more than six New Yam festivals ago, Your Majesty."

Scratching his scruff, Onochie wondered, "Since then, has anyone owned or looked after the land?"

"According to the records I uncovered, there has been a one Mazi Okereke. Nobody else, my lord."

"Okereke? Okereke." Onochie mumbled, trying to figure out why the name was slightly familiar to his ears. "Interesting. Keep working on this issue. I want you to investigate who this man is and get back to me on what you discover. Great job so far. You have done tremendously well."

Kamalu beamed with pride. He was a little child upon receiving praise; it was definitely endearing. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Return to your post now. I am to find Ezinwanyi before I go back to the palace. Alone." He added if it wasn't already clear.

A gloom blotted Kamalu's expression for a second but was gone as quickly. "Then, it might aid your journey to know she has headed to the market, my lord."

"She has, has she? I am to see you later, correct?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. Stay safe."

Onochie mused faintly to himself that his safety did not matter if it entailed that Ezinwanyi was in danger.

༄༄༄

Ugegbe was running out of time. She'd planned to leave earlier but had to visit the stewardess to ask permission before leaving the palace. It wasn't like she genuinely needed it since she'd already told the queen mother, but she'd deemed it necessary to keep a good relationship with the plump woman whose talented hands were always busy in the kitchen.

Saddled with her blessing to visit the market, Ugegbe set out for her journey. However, before she could completely exit the palace, she'd been waylaid by Akuada. She'd begged her to buy some roasted plantains on her way back. Ugegbe had agreed immediately, as it wasn't a significant task to her.

However, she'd needed to depart quickly as she wished to be back before sunset. This meant she could not spend as much time as she would have preferred conversing with Kamalu. She could barely get out a few words before assuring him she would be safe and was only headed for the market to get some stuff.

The sun was still supreme in its reign. Ugegbe was confident she would make it home on time. Moving from one stall to the next, she browsed through the items on display. Once or twice, a cloth caught her eye, but it usually was to no end since the most beautiful fabrics were far much out of the range of her wages.

In the corner of her wrapper, she had her cowries secured. She felt for them every now and then to ensure she hadn't been robbed of most of the money she'd saved. It was improbable that a thief would be so skilled to pilfer the cowries she'd fastened so tightly to herself.

Living in Osisi had taught her a few tricks about protecting what was hers as robbers from the neighbouring kingdom, Oguri, were fond of sneaking into her village and wreaking havoc in whatever ways they could.

Time spun and rolled like yarn from a sheep's fleece as Ugegbe rotated from one selling post to another. Her attention snagged on a unique wrapper; she knew she'd found the one. Her gaze was dreamy and filled with adoration as she knocked at the door of an old man's shop.

"Mazi, Ndewo," she greeted, already attached to the beautifully dyed wrapper draped over a wooden staff. His reply, welcoming her into his shade, was lost in an abysmic chasm as she reached for the prize, stars shining in her eyes. "This one. This one, Mazi. I must have it."

"Then, you shall have it." The man had a round face, burnished from the sun yet softened by smile wrinkles. He moved silently through the small space and plucked the cloth from its perch, folding it neatly.

"But..." Ugegbe frowned, befuddled as a lost rabbit. "But I have not discussed the price with you yet. Ego ole ka ọ bụ?"

The man placed the wrapper in her cane basket and answered her with a smile. "Pay me what you think is right, my daughter." Ugegbe felt her tear ducts collect moisture as the title brought to light a memory of her father gently combing her hair as a child. She recollected him apologising to her because he could not do what other mothers were doing for their daughters.

That he was not by her side, living happily, now that he'd grown older, as she'd always hoped for him, anguished her. She was again reminded of the reason why she had to become queen. She needed to marry the king. She needed power.

The first step she needed to take was purchasing this wrapper. Ugegbe untied the end of her cloth and poured all her cowries, minus Akuada's, into her open palm. She offered them to the man with a sheepish smile. The fabric was worth more than she had, she knew. "This is all I have, Mazi. Will it be enough?"

"Yes, my daughter." He smiled again, and Ugegbe pondered why she felt warm, light, and maybe even happy in his presence. She felt content like she was making the right decision and suddenly was more confident in her decision to become Queen of Zoro. It was as if an invisible load had been lifted off her back.

"Thank you so much, Mazi. Thank you for your benevolence." Ugegbe curtsied in respect and, after more pleasantries, was off to the nearby roasting stands where she could smell ripe plantains being cooked.

With the last money she had in her hand, she bought two pieces of plantains. She'd only walked two paces away from the happy seller—about stowing Akuada's purchase in her basket—when a stealthy hand swiped the package from her grasp.

All Ugegbe could cognise was running after the thief. And she did.
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