THE FACE OF A SEEPING KING-1

THE FACE OF A SLEEPING KING.

Some said he had reached the banks of the Pra river, other said he was even closer, still other’s said he was here but one thing they all said with the same look of terror on their faces was that he was a god leading a powerful army.

***

“Are you daydreaming at this crucial hour?” The queen scolded a little louder than she should have. One thing was obvious to the princess; the Queen, whom she had never seen break a sweat, was on the verge of a full blown panic attack. But the princess did not even bother to reply. Her little yet full lips were pouted stiff. The queen did not need to be told that her daughter of a rip age of eighteen was defying her.

Her daughter; her only child. At this age she should be married off with a couple of children; far away from the treat of horror and terror that left their faces in pallor. She should be thriving in a far off kingdom where she’ll be pampered until the hollow in her cheeks and collar bones were filled up. But no, neither would she allow any man near her nor would any man risk coming near this fiery thing.

“Pack up now.” The queen’s tone was cool; holding the promise of more threat than its chill. She was simply saying, get up or I drag you by the ear.

“Let him come and take me. I am not leaving my people behind. I am not a coward. After all this is what I have been trained for.”

“Coward? Trai…,”The queen was exasperated, “You may be able to fall a few warriors in this place it doesn’t mean…”

Just then terrifying screams filled the palace.

“He’s here!”

“Disaster has befallen Sebokrom!”

“The end has come for us!”

People were running helter skelter. Some had their screams stuck into their throat and their facial expression holding so much fear that it would have been more comical than fearful if the situation called for anything less.

Just then and arrow pierced a servant right in front of them.

Mother and daughter looked at each other.

“Daughter,” The king entered the compound. He looked ten years older, “Let’s go.”

The princess who could never refuse her father joined her father and under the protection of fifteen warriors or so they run to the secret opening at the far end of the compound. Just then fearful warriors started out of  the lush vegetation into Sebokrom and into the palace.  Arrows rained down on them, falling about half of the warriors.

Her father grabbed her hands and made her lead the way through the tunnel her ancestors had built to run from their enemies but had never used. They crawled out slowly.

“The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want…”

The white missionary had come along. The princess was surprised to hear him spew a prayer in their language.

They reached the end of the tunnel and turned to help the others out. After helping the last person out she turned to see frozen expressions on their faces. Immediately lightening flashed through the skies. She had to look up and see if there were clouds in the skies. That was when she saw him. He looked down from his horse condescendingly.

“They said you’d run.” His voice filled the forest.

Thunder cracked through the skies as though to assent to his sentiments.

She looked around to see everyone shaking pathetically, including her parents. That drove the princess to raging madness.
“Get off your horse, you fool.” She screamed as she approached his horse. That was when she realised, too little to late, that an army of about fifty more men were with him. They had lined about twenty of the elders of the council of Sebokrom and had held knives to their throat.

When the warriors saw her approach some archers arched their bows in warning. She did not retreat. This goat has trampled enough on the hearts of lions and she would rather die fighting for her family’s honour than flee.

“Come and fight me.” She yelled again; her eyes flashing red with anger and danger.

In one swift yet graceful movement he was on the ground. An arrogant smile spread all over his face.

“My pleasure.”

They strutted in a circle sizing each other up. Suddenly the king crouched and took a step towards her. She backed up.

“Afraid?”

Her eyes sparkled again. Then suddenly her lips curled into a full on sensual smile. The king was stunned and for that moment disarmed. That was when she charged and easily floored him, slashing his arm with a knife she drew from her skirt. She had aimed for his heart but he was faster. He easily shifted his weight underneath her.
But she still had the advantage and she did not hesitate. She will drive her knife into his heart. Her knife was midair when she felt the sharp pain in her thigh. She screamed. The king quickly manoeuvred and floored her. He pinned her to the ground and taunted,

“Just checking. Is that a manhood you have underneath that skirt? ”

He dug it deeper and higher all the while soaking every expression that poured from her face. Then his eyes went to her lips, pressed in pain. For the first time during a war, he felt something he’d never felt before. Pity.

That was almost his undoing because she immediately tried ripping out his heart with her knife. He let go of his knife and held her hands. He knew he should kill her. But the dark skin, full lips, shining eyes, sparkling with so much hate; he just had to imprint the image in his mind; just one more second.

She opened her eyes, surprised that she was not already with her ancestors. She tried pushing it into his chest again. She watched as the pity on the king’s face metamorphosed into something else. Pure and unadulterated hate. Right then he was all male, all king and all warrior.

And for the first time in the princess’s life, she feared for her life. But she did not fear enough to not fight for it. She clutched the knife with both hands and pushed it inch by inch closer to his heart. He tried to block her with one arm as he pressed his other hand into her neck; cutting off her air and crushing her. But her knife was cutting into his skin. She was almost home. But home was more with the ancestors than into his heart as the seconds passed.

“Arrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhhh!”

They were both taken by surprise by the sound. They both paused their assault for a brief moment to look up. The princess saw her frail father shed his fear and charge towards them. Her heart was elated. The lion had awoken.

But the king reacted quickly, he snatched the knife, slicing her palms in the process and plunged it straight into her father’s abdomen.

It was blurry after that.

Her father’s blood on her face…

The clash between the warriors…

Someone carrying her off…

The bushes…

“Bring her back! Alive!”

Who uttered those vengeful words?

The soldiers closing in…

Falling into a pit….

The silence…

The chill…