The Greatest African Romance-Mythic Story Ever - Prince of Flames Chapter VII: The Oath Under the Stars

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The walls of Ariluwa had stood since long ago, with the magnificent walls known as the ‘Red-Gates of Arilas. Such was their thickness, such their glory that in all the land of Edo none had ever dreamt to ever attempt to take it. All knew all too well the names of all the great generals since the time of Arilas who had been repelled from those gates. Named after the great hero Arilas, who it was said had lived more than two hundred and fifty years prior. A figure said to have not only defeated an Impundulu, which was said to have seized a local maiden who was said to be the daughter of a tribal-king. Slaying it, Arilas was said to have gone on fight alongside the warrior-maiden Adanna, who led an alliance of more than three hundred tribes in the Second Wars of Darkness.

The city that Arilas had founded shortly before the end of the wars, was said to have been painted crimson with the blood of the Mazoku and Dark Elves, when they had invaded Ifriquya in their mad war on all the lands of Pangaea. The city’s walls were later painted a permanent rust colour in honour of its name.

Upon arrival Kayode had guided them to the Goldsea tavern, where he had seen to paying for rooms for them all. He had also made certain to arrange meat, cheese and bread saying as he passed along to them, the food prepared for them by the pub-owner, “Here you are, eat! Eat! The best cure for sorrow is food.”

“No thank you,” Kolwé muttered coldly, which drew a frown from the older man.

Under other circumstances, Aganyú might have gaped at the former brigand at present he did no such thing. The notion that the sorcerer did not wish to eat was a shocking one, and yet none of them commented about it distracted as they were with their individual thoughts and pain. If Aganyú and Kayode were more concerned with their own feelings, Kelechi did not quite know the once plump brigand half as well as they did.

The pretty young woman had remained near at hand throughout all this time, and was to prove ever solicitous with food and drink or other requests. Scared as she was of being abandoned once more, or beaten she was hardly paid any mind by either of the two men. Only Kayode was at all concerned for her, often giving her what instructions he found the two men too consumed by grief to be entrusted with.

The tavern that they had found their way into and where the two men had stayed throughout the three days that followed after their arrival. It happened that the tavern-master was to regard them with little more than disdain. Still though, with Kelechi acquiescing to work for him, as a tavern-wench and the men paying him three bronze coins apiece a day, more than enough to dissuade him from getting rid of them.

Seated in the shade of a large hut just outside of the city-walls, as they had arrived when it was already dark, Aganyú was almost listless and hardly able to look at his travelling companions. He had done all that he could, had fought and fought if only so that Owalade and his daughter might live and yet they had still died.

The horror of it was almost too much for him, with the likes of Kolwé having been quiet the whole time that they had walked for. He was still quiet, though he had at begun to drink what beer was available in the small tavern. Eager to lose himself, that is until Kayode called for the bartender to stop catering to his need to drown out his sorrows and guilt in beer.

This had won him a great many complaints from the old monk, who had muttered for some time to himself, “Shan’t leave either of you alone, for a single moment.”

Though he complained at some length, there was little in the way of bite to his words. Aware the old man was no less grief-stricken than the two men; neither of them was to take offense, where they might otherwise have. It was however with the utmost effort that after several days of leaving them be, he was to call upon them after being away during that time.

“Really now, I shan’t believe that I found the both of you in such dire straits, grief has its place however neither of you have done aught else in recent days,” he complained in frustration, “Kelechi has also put herself to work as a wench here that the two of you might wait about here all day.”

It was as he had said, yet what he did not know was that Kelechi was guilty of often neglecting her duties to the irritation of the tavern-master. It was because of this that he often came to whine about their comportment to Kayode. By this time, consumed by his frustrations with them he was to inform the monk, “They must either work, or they must leave for some other place. I know not how they comported themselves in the south, yet here I will not tolerate this poor comportment.”

“I will speak to them,” Kayode replied at once, refusing to offend the younger man who with his thick beard, bald head and thick eyebrows which gave him a considerably sterner appearance than any other youth his age ought to have had. Dressed in a tunic, he carried himself with a sharpness and self-importance that hardly endeared him to the monk who shook his head at the fellow.