Pristine, page 19
The virgin priestess hadn’t just lost her virginity and purity, she was pregnant.
It was an abomination!
Shutting his eyes had been useless since he’d not been able to keep it that way for long, not with the arousing sounds Nnanke was making. Despite his fury at the sacrilege before him, Uben could feel his manhood raise the front of his wrapper like firewood, and he knew if given the chance, he would have committed the forbidden act without a second thought.
He should’ve been the only one to see her secret place if only she’d agreed to marry him. He should’ve had her all to himself, not the talkative wife he’d been forced to marry. And definitely not the strange man giving her carnal pleasure. Who was he anyway; where did he come from? How had he entered Yakpani with nobody’s knowledge?
After retreating from the horrible sight, he had found his way back to his hut.
However, he had returned to the forest three more times, and strangely, he’d always caught them in the act of shameless copulation, during the day time. It seemed like the only thing they did throughout the day. No wonder Binah Yakpani had been complaining about the laziness Nnanke had been displaying of recent.
Uben was left with the decision to tell Binah Yakpani. The rules were clear—Nnanke wasn’t to be touched by a man, but she was living with a man in the forest of the spirits. He couldn’t keep quiet about it. The abomination had to be cleansed, or else the village would suffer for it.
With that decision made, the unexplainable fury that had engulfed his heart for days and made his eyes hurt like there was sand in it reduced, and he could sleep peacefully for the first time in a while.
But not for long.
Binah Umor bothered his dream with the request to come to the Yakpani border and invite him in. This was the only way the binah could bridge the invisible Yakpani protection. The son of the soil had to invite him freely and willingly into the land and at the hour when night gives way to morning.
Uben walked from his hut into the forest with his eyes closed, still asleep and communicating with the innocuous-looking old man in his dream who only needed a place to stay for the night.
“Old man, you are weary from your journey, come into Yakpani, I welcome you,” Uben said to Binah Umor at the side of the boundary warriors didn’t guard.
“Thank you, my son.” Binah Umor sneered and stepped freely across the invisible protection.
The wooden carvings dangling from his neck swayed precariously as he passed the barrier, but held. If the strings had cut from his neck, it would mean he’d been caught. He breathed with satisfaction and tightly cinched his wrapper that held some herbs and already prepared spells.
As he followed the compelled warrior through the forest, back to his hut, he would’ve loved to cackle in glee at the success of his machinations. However, he had to remain quiet and unseen by the spirits of Yakpani, until he’d conquered the people.
Binah Umor preened without shame behind the stumbling warrior and walked arrogantly through the sleeping village, smiling in satisfaction that he would soon rule them. He saw spirits that protected the land hovering and fluttering over huts, so he quickly ducked behind the warrior and made sure he walked in his shadow. The spirits would only recognize the presence of its own.
***
While Binah Umor settled comfortably in Uben’s hut, Nnanke rolled from the warmth of Okoi’s arms and struggled to her knees in her cave. Okoi scrambled to his feet and helped her stand.
It had become increasingly difficult for her to do some things as her pregnancy progressed. Okoi’s heart bloomed with happiness as he had watched her belly swell with his seed. He believed it was possible to live with her in the forest, with their children until they grew old.
“It is time,” she murmured as he held her in his arms from the back, as her stomach was too big for him to hold her from the front.
He was reluctant to let her go, but she had a special ritual she had to perform in the time when the spirits floated over the river.
As a pregnant priestess, she had to present herself and her child to the ase, goddess of fertility. Okoi feared for her safety. He feared the goddess might reject her, especially because of the rule they had broken. Nnanke was meant to remain a virgin.
Apart from feeling intense happiness at being with her and the freedom of sliding into her ready secret place whenever the power of the mood seized them, he was terrified for her.
There were times she’d had to answer summons and go into the village to see the binah. Okoi had no idea how no one had noticed she was pregnant, as the only protection she’d had was the extra wrapper she had taken to cover her from her shoulders, draped loosely over her body. He’d still been able to notice the swell of her stomach.
He would pace the clearing behind their cave in worry for the duration she was gone, his heart hammering in fear that this time, someone would surely notice. But then, he would hear a twig break under her feet, and he would hurry to her, hugging and lifting her into his arms and back to the cave where he would proceed to confirm to himself that she belonged to him.
Okoi had learnt to count the months of pregnancy from the old man that’d been the quasi doctor back at the white man’s land. His memories of being a slave were fading in the face of his joy at living with his angel in their paradise. Nnanke had only three koke left before the baby dropped from her womb.
He reached out his hand and rubbed the firm swell of her stomach. She sighed and leaned back more in his arms.
“Don’t go,” he pleaded, as he normally did whenever she had to go to Binah Yakpani’s hut, though this was different. She had to sink beneath the river to visit the goddess of fertility.
Nnanke was sorely tempted not to go as usual whenever he pleaded. The strength of his voice, even though his words were whispered, always caused an intense surge of feelings in her chest. With her heart perpetually swollen with happiness, she always had the urge to do anything for Okoi. As he always proclaimed, especially after their copulation, she would indeed die for him.
A strong feeling in her heart, it indeed proved terrifying the things she could do for Okoi. For him, she had considered stopping her services for the gods. In her heart, Okoi came first before the spirits. But she knew how powerful the spirits could be when they were angry, and despite having broken the instruction of remaining a virgin, they had not shown their anger.
In fact, it had felt as though more power had been given to her. She could feel it swirl beneath her skin whenever she performed rituals or had to go into the village to help Binah Yakpani with healing. The ancient prophesy had said she would remain a virgin; had Binah Yakpani lied? She had also sensed binah’s resentment towards her, but she couldn’t do anything about it, not if she wanted to keep her pregnancy secret.
Men didn’t have the power or whim to deviate from the rules of the gods, and so, she knew she faced more danger with men than with the spirits.
The goddess had visited her dream and had requested she come down to her. That had happened for the past four koke. Even though she was constantly given instructions on what to do for the village, the goddess continually reminded her to sink down the river to visit her.
Nnanke had been scared—courage had failed her, and she’d considered not going. But she couldn’t avoid the spirits, she was connected to them. If the goddess wanted her to sink down the river, she would do it forcefully if Nnanke refused. She wanted to protect the child in her womb and so, she was summoning courage to do it herself.
With a deep breath, she turned in his arms and faced him. Her hand stroked his bearded jaw tenderly.
“I would die for you,” she whispered and then felt the rapid beat of his heart beneath her hand at her words. It was the first time she was saying that, as opposed to her usual reply of ‘I would never let you die.’
Tears dripped down Okoi’s face at the strange, intense feeling engulfing his heart at her words. He squeezed her to him, not minding the nudge of her firm stomach against his abdomen.
“I would never let you die,” he whispered fiercely. “I would never let you die.” His arms tightened about her.
He knew she had to do this. He knew she had to sink beneath the river, and he knew his declared promise was useless when it concerned the spirits. If they harmed her, he would be powerless to save her. With men, he would have fought to the death to protect her and their child.
Okoi was determined, though. If by nightfall she hadn’t emerged, he would dive beneath the water until he found her. He would perform all the ritual sacrifices he had watched her perform until the spirits released her. He would do anything.
“Let me help you rub the ekọọ,” he suggested, referring to the traditional yellow clay Nnanke rubbed every time she performed rituals for the spirits.
Slowly, she stepped from his arms and walked outside the cave. She dropped her wrapper, standing naked under the full moon as Okoi took a while to come outside because he was getting the broken gourd of ekọọ.
Nnanke knew when he stepped out and saw her because he gasped. She could see in his eyes how much he liked her and everything about her. She’d been worried when she had begun getting big and feeling ugly, but Okoi’s shaft had never stopped growing as hard as firewood whenever he was near her. As though he had heard her thoughts then, he’d expressed how beautiful she became everyday as her pregnancy progressed.
She stared back at him, noticing the raising of his wrapper and the answering pool of warmth between her legs. But they didn’t have time for that. She had to sink beneath the water now that the spirits had come out to play.
Okoi couldn’t take his gaze off her. She stood there in their flowered clearing, under the moon, her hair streaming down her back, her breasts swollen with succour for their child growing in her protruding belly. Her skin looked soft and smooth like fresh goat milk. He could see the dark triangle of curls in between her legs and the longing which scented the air as it dripped down her thighs.
She could’ve been a goddess as she stood there, her eyes glowing a warm blue as it usually did when she wanted him. But they didn’t have time for that—he understood the timing involved in working with the spirits.
So, Okoi swallowed hard, his heart beating like the kingship drums on the harvest festival celebration. He ignored his engorged manhood and proceeded to design Nnanke’s skin with the ekọọ.
He used a soft, slim branch from one of the flowers and drew small thin lines, circles, and other elaborate figures on her skin. The markings on her body seemed to glow in the moon. By the time she picked up her glowing staff, her mouth moving with words of praise mixed with requests to the spirits to be accepted and welcomed, Okoi knew she was no more the Nnanke that enjoyed his touch.
She was more; she was another being, prepared and ready to be accepted into the world of spirits.
He followed her as they’d earlier agreed, down the narrow path, and stopped at the river bank while she proceeded. His heart felt as though it was lodged in his throat as he watched her glide into the river until she got to the centre where the water stopped at her neck.
With the brightness of the moon, the river was clear, and he could see beneath it. He could see the markings on her skin—the water hadn’t washed it off.
Nnanke swirled in the centre of the water, causing ripples as her voice rose in adulation of the spirits. And for the first time in Okoi’s life, he saw what she had described as spirit guides glide up from the darker depths of the water, their blue glow, so much like Nnanke’s eyes, lighting their ascension.
The pair of creatures looked like huge fish but not a type he’d ever seen before. Their scales were designed with elaborate markings that looked as hard as shells, their eyes giant circles with a dot of yellow glow in the centre; one that matched the now glowing ekọọ markings on Nnanke’s skin.
They swirled around her and glowed brighter as her voice increased, echoing in the calm hour. The water shone blue, and the vicinity around the river illuminated not just with the radiance of the moon but a mixture of blue and silver. Then, as though the spirit guides were wrapped round her, they, with Nnanke, began sinking beneath the glowing water.
Okoi’s heart threatened to lurch out of his throat as he moved close to the edge as far as he could go to see her descent, his face equally illuminated with the blue glow from the surface. He couldn’t touch foot in the water. Nnanke had warned him seriously against it as though she had known he would have the overwhelming urge to go after her as she sank deeper and deeper beneath the river into the darker depths.
Soon, Okoi could only see the blue glow on the bodies of the creatures lighting their descent. Moments later, that dimmed until it disappeared.
He hadn’t realized how charged the forest had become. Gusts of wind shook the branches of the trees. The river swelled with waves, and the night hummed with the power of spirits. He hadn’t realized all these until the blue light disappeared beneath the water and with it, his angel, his woman, his life.
He would kill himself if she didn’t return to him.
The power that had cackled through the forest as Nnanke swirled in the water had calmed. The wind had returned to being a soft breeze, the river a cool transparent ripple, and the leaves on trees flickered lazily under the moon. Yet, Okoi’s nerves still felt tight and strummed with anxiety as he settled on Nnanke’s favourite low rock by the river to wait.
***
The sun had risen to the centre of the sky, blanketing the forest with its hot brilliance. However, Okoi didn’t feel it, not when he was anxiously watching the glittering river for an appearance of Nnanke. It was also because he sat under the shade of a tree whose leafy branches spread out beyond the bank of the river.
He hadn’t left the spot except to urinate against a tree and take a sip of water. He hadn’t tasted food; he couldn’t. His nerves were frayed from intense anxiety. Was she okay? Would she return during the day or at night? What she scared?
As her pregnancy had progressed, she’d become increasingly tired, and he worried for her. It made no sense that she had to sink to the bottom of the river to see the goddess. Why hadn’t the goddess come to her as usual? He struggled to understand the justification of Nnanke’s act, even though she’d told him it was to ask forgiveness for having broken a salient rule, to beg that Yakpani be not punished for her sins—their sins—and to secure protection for their child.
Maybe it had just been a ploy to lure her into being punished?
Such thoughts wove through his mind all day. He dared not eat anything, lest he vomit it from nervousness. However, if he’d eaten, maybe he’d have had the strength to defend himself.
Everything happened in a blur.
One moment, he sat brooding by the river. The next, he heard a rustle, which could’ve been a rodent scrambling in the bushes. But then, a twig broke under the weight of an unmistakable human tread, and Okoi turned. His temple became violently acquainted with the heavy base of a sturdy branch.
There was no opportunity to identify his assailant, not when another hit landed on the back of his skull as he moaned on the ground. Okoi struggled with the darkness that battled to take over his mind and lost.
Chapter Twenty-One
So many things are happening at the same time. Thankfully, I’m able to zap through these scenes. I’m worried, no doubt. However, I’m committed to bringing you all the details.
With Nkoyo in the past, and certain trouble brewed there, I thought it wise to be in the present. I mean, the past has already happened, right? It’s not like we can affect any changes there. So here I am in the Atam palace.
The king and queen stared, perplexed, at the heaving mill worker. It was obvious the young man had hurried to the palace as fast as he could. Beyond that, they couldn’t understand how he’d forgotten where the prince had said he’d gone.
Crap, Greed was working overtime on messing up everything.
From what was said, the boy could clearly recall the prince had sent him over to call in the army troops on standby. However, the poor boy couldn’t remember the location Onen had mentioned he was going to rescue a certain Eja, another mill worker.
Understandably, King Liman was angry at his son for taking such reckless decisions in this perilous time. He knew that as a prince, he cared for his people, but it was as though Onen was unaware of the dangers lurking in wait for the royal family. I knew the king was conscious of the diabolical machinations at work in Atam, so he expected his son to have been careful.
In a bid to reduce panic in the kingdom, especially in the royal community, he’d desisted from sending in the full force of army troops. I wish he had. Now, he regretted his decision. He was sure Chief Uken was behind this manoeuvre, especially of the mill worker’s memory loss.
The king looked into the panicked gaze of his queen. They hadn’t expected this turn of events, but they’d not been unprepared either. They knew what each should do.
Boy, was I glad to know this. Because, it appeared I had no real power to affect anything that was happening. I was simply here to tell tales. How lame.
So, after a second of silent conversation between the royal couple, the type usual among long-time couples, Queen Jesam hurried off to one of the rooms in the palace, where the Atam priest had been ensconced since the throne room debacle. If anyone could locate the prince, the royal priest would.
“Everything will be fine,” she muttered to herself, determined. Liman would call in the troops, and the priest would locate her son, she thought. Then she worried for her daughter-in-law. How would she take this crisis?
Well, the queen need not worry for Nkoyo since she was off on a mission of her own in the past. She should’ve been worried about the prince and the possible trap awaiting him.
