Onuora Ndukwe was the name of the older emissary. The other who accompanied him was Okonkwo Ndukwe, his only son, from what Onochie had learnt so far. They hailed from one of the seven large clans of their village, Nmagba.

The king had been intrigued to hear about their history. In Zoro, there were few defined clans. Those that existed did not hold any power. Instead, they only were for indigenes to trace their lineage backward. This wasn't so for Ndukwe's homeland.

Belonging to a clan in Nmagba was vital. It entailed whether you ended up under a good ruler or not. Each clan had an elder to represent them. This man was chosen not only based on the will of the gods but also on the virtuous life they'd lived up till that moment.

The people of a clan were allowed to nominate three mature men responsible for families of their own in the community. This was done at an affluent ceremony marked by ancient rites that'd been passed down from generation to generation. The ultimate choice of leader was made by the gods, who spoke through their oracle at an appointed time.

Mostly, the gods picked a man from the selected bunch. But on rare occasions, the will of the deities was not the same as that of the people, and a man who was not originally voted for, was blessed by the gods. Recently, this lucky man was the older Ndukwe.

Onochie was sorely tempted to dismiss his chiefs, so he could ask all the questions on his mind—even those that would make him out to be a curious child—but refrained from doing so upon finding the detriment of such action to outweigh its benefits.

So he sat in his place, surrounded by his officials and listened raptly to the tales of the spokesman for Nmagba. And it'd been a while since he'd last been this enthralled by anything. More specifically, not since he met Ezinwanyi. Nothing had sparked his interest as much as the maiden he'd helped save at the borders of his kingdom.

In all honesty, she was still an enigma to him. There were so many facets of her that he was convinced she hid from the world. Perpetually, he was amazed by her wisdom and poise. But more than that, he'd been stunned to learn that underneath that grace and effortless elegance was the spirit of a tiger subdued in a corked bottle.

If she were to be set free, heads would daze in a stupor, bewitched by her. Onochie hoped she would become wife to a husband who would not suppress who she was within. Who would encourage her true nature.

"So your aim is to form an alliance with Zoro, do I speak right?" Onochie slid back into the conversation without a single hint that he'd yielded to the urge to lose himself in his head.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Okonkwo, the younger Ndukwe, replied eagerly. Onuora's response was more gingerly tendered. Onochie stared intently at him before deciding that the truth was now due.

Taking a tentative sip out of his calabash of cool water, Onochie regarded the mute audience, who he was confident secretly itched to chime in some words. Permitting them to voice their opinions would be his gift to his undeserving officials.

His voice was stern and firm as he addressed the sea of bald-headed men. "Have you heard what our visitors have said, chiefs of Zoro?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." They chorused in unison.

Onochie nodded. "Good. Continue to do so, for your judgements will count eventually."

Having dealt with that, Onochie traced his gaze back to his guests. He did not have to stall anymore, as every soul in the palace was at attention, dearly listening. "I believe it is time the men of Nmagba tell us what they have truly come for."

A frown furrowed Okonkwo's forehead, but not his father's. "What might you mean by that, Your Majesty?"

The king tilted his head on a closed fist. Was Okonkwo really ignorant as to why they'd visited Zoro? It couldn't be that he was... Only an infant would be unable to read signs and surmise from them.

Okonkwo could not be much older than Onochie was—if he indeed happened to be—after seeing nearly twenty-one New Yam Festivals. It was challenging to make the judgement, but his young facial attributes did the telling. In his physique, he seemed more mature. He was incredibly tall and with a huge frame that surprisingly did not drag him down; he still moved about smartly.

Even Onuora was taller than most elderly men Onochie had met. If he stood by them, they would both tower over him. Just as Kamalu did. It was first for anyone, but Okonkwo held a close torch to the chief guard's mountainous height.

"Onuora, tell your child why you both are before me, asking for my kingdom's alliance. Then apprise my palace why out of seven elders ruling Nmagba, only one made the trip to visit my kingdom on such a vital mission. Lastly, convey to my chiefs why, despite my kindness and open welcome to Nmagba, you both have resolved to lie to me." Onochie raised his voice, then concealed a grin as the men shifted uncomfortably on their feet. He had them where he wanted.

The younger Ndukwe appeared to wear a fine sheen of guilt. His awkward body language communicated how uncomfortable he was at the turn of things. Onochie was glad he got to speak to his mother.

He'd demanded for her presence, and she'd shown up to support him. She was the one who gave him the advice to interrogate the men, to question their intent other than establishing trade between both realms.

Onochie had realised his mistake was not relying more on his mother. He'd pushed her away at the beginning of his rule, and when he'd needed her back, she'd been worried her presence would only be a hindrance to him. She'd shielded herself using outdated curious and traditions of the kingdom. But the evidence was there that he'd dug the gulf between them into existence with his own hands.

"Do you dare keep silent when our king has asked a question!" Iwegbuna shouted from his roost at the king's right side.

Onuora's head jerked back. "No! It is not–that is not our intent. We do not—"

Iwegbuna sneered at them, his hateful expression hardened further by scorn. He plainly held them in derision. "It is not your intent. Yet you blatantly disrespect our king. Do you foolish men have a death wish? Is it your prayer that Ogbunabili visits you this night?"

"Enough!" Onochie put an end to Iwegbuna's taunts. They would get nowhere if he let the head chief continue threatening the Ndukwe's. That was far from what he desired to happen. He preferred answers.

Onuora dropped to his knees, and his son followed. "Your Majesty, please forgive us for wronging you in this way. We did not plan to insult your sovereignty by lying before you. Please forgive us for that."

"I shall consider doing so if you tell me your reason for taking that route and why you are truly here," Onochie said, fingers tapping against the arms of his chair. "Be warned that I shall not repeat myself again. Choose what you are to say wisely. Do not forget that you are in my kingdom and at my mercy. The gods will not fault me for taking actions to protect my reign and my people."

"Understood, Your Majesty." Onuora bowed.

"Rise then, and make your case known."

A heavy load seemed to have rolled off the shoulders of the elder of Nmagba as he stood taller and his voice was louder as he spoke. "We are here before you today to ask for your grace toward Nmagba."

"How?" Onochie arched a brow. Their request was not so sensible since he had no plan to hurt or bring harm to their village in the first place. "Until today, I had heard nothing about your homeland. What good would my mercy grant when I had no intent on attacking your people?"

Onuora smiled wryly. "Perhaps in the moment, you do not, Your Majesty. But you probably shall in the future."

"What led you to this assumption?"

The palace descended into quiet. Okonkwo met his father's gaze, saw the pain engraved in his features, and forged forward in his place. "As of now, Your Majesty, Nmagba is at strife with an enemy kingdom, Owodi. They are a small bandit dominion, always on the prowl, seeking to overtake smaller kingdoms, conquer larger ones, or recruit powerful ones into their fold."

Onuora cleared his throat and collected the reigns again. "Nmagba is a small village compared to most others. However, we have skilled and well-trained warriors who do not lack the strength to defend their homes. This is why we have retained our sovereignty for ages, living as we have without a monarch. Owodi has failed to leave our lands in ruins despite their numerous attempts."

"However," Onuora paused, his face twisted so tightly in a scowl. "Owodi has been growing in number. Where they have failed to round up or defeat other villages, they have now succeeded. Out of nowhere, they have gained untold riches and weapons of mass destruction. We have not seen or come in contact with these weapons, whatever they may be.

"But we have offered refuge to those who escaped such defeated realms or kingdoms. It is from them we heard stories that no ear wishes to hear of. The warriors of Owodi are black-hearted and abominable. Their acts—as they plough through land after land—are depraved and barbarous. They plunder, rape, and kill as if it were nothing; children are not spared from their inhumane perversities and vileness. The sordid tales we have heard have left us in distress and despair."

"You fear that your homes might be next." Onochie supplied.

A slight shake of the head. "We do not fear that they might, Your Majesty. We know that they shall. We cannot escape Owodi's advancement on our realm, but we can do our best to be ready. It is the reason for our visit. We know that Owodi has not made their way this far. This is as your kingdom is farther North than Nmagba is; Owodi is travelling and conquering kingdoms down from the South."

"What exactly do you wish for from me, men of Nmagba?" Onochie wanted Onuora to get straight to the point. It was as obvious as daylight that he was beating around the bush.

Onuora's chest ballooned upward as he inhaled deeply, convening the needed courage. "As we have said before, Your Majesty, we hope for an alliance with the kingdom of Zoro. More particularly, we want this to be sealed in a vow that states that Your Majesty will not join hands with Owodi against Nmagba."

"And what would I gain from this?"

"Trade, Your Majesty. Nmagba is rich in resources. We have fertile lands that bear fruits. We are also blessed with the talent of creating things from nothing. Our clothes, for example, are known far and wide for their colourful and striking prints."

Onochie smiled generously. "That is interesting. But why should I accept your promise of trade? What if Owodi offers my kingdom a more appealing deal? After all, you are a smaller realm. What you can deliver to me will surely not be as much as Owodi currently can." He pointed out not as himself but as a ruler who wanted the best for his kingdom.

It pained Onochie to speak those words even as he did, but he had no choice but to do so. He wanted to know what he would involve his people in if he offered a helping hand to Nmagba—and he knew he would. There was no doubt about it. His conscience would never rest if he dared look favourably upon any hand Owodi had to offer, but he wished to see Onuora's reaction.

There it was. The fury Onochie knew would rise. It was only expected of an upright person, which Onuora clearly was. But Okonkwo was the one who responded, beating his father to the punch. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, Zoro is not well known. There is a greater likelihood of Owodi attacking your kingdom than asking that you join them. They would rather not waste their time negotiating with an unknown variable. No offence, Your Majesty, but you would be lucky if your lands were not razed to the grounds like ours was years ago."

"Insolence!"

"Alueme!" Abomination!

"How dare you!"

The throng of chiefs were on their feet, ready to crucify Okonkwo. Iwegbuna's voice was the loudest. "Who are you to threaten our king and the kingdom under his rule? My lord!" He addressed the king with a short bow. "They should be thrown in prison! We should not believe a single word from their dirty mouths."

Onochie was not impressed by their outbursts. "Sit down, all of you. I will deal with these men as I deem fit."

"But, Your Majesty—"

"From what I see, this visit was a waste of energy and effort." Onuora proclaimed, cutting the head chief off. Anger was less apparent in his body language as he met every eye in the room. His fists no longer shook with rage, but there wasn't much dissimilarity from before. "I thought you to be a good king, but it seems I might have been mistaken. Any who is at peace with aligning with Owodi despite knowing their true nature and the vices they have committed and continue to wreak on the innocents is not a good person!"

Onochie laughed breezily. "Onuora, you have come to a conclusion about my nature when you have not even heard my answer. Have you not done me an injustice by your action? Who told you I would side with Owodi?"

Onuora's mouth opened and then closed like a gaping fish. "I-I have no words, Your Majesty. I am sorry for making such a hasty judgment. Forgive me, please. My son and I have been rude before you. There is no excuse for what we have done, no matter how we felt. Please, pardon us, my lord, and show us your mercy."

"You are forgiven," Onochie said, earning a whirr of dissent from his officials.

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" Onuora and Okonkwo bowed low to the king of Zoro.

"I heard that there is a feast I am to judge," Onochie cleverly hinted at the ongoing contest among the maidens. "Dine with me first, and I will give you my answer thereafter."
•