SYNOPSIS
Prince Ikan is Heir Apparent Prince of the Kingdom of Iluji where an ancient spell cast a mighty cloud to hover in the sky of the Kingdom so that the sun does not shine on the land. To make the spell of darkness go away, kings traditionally offer slave girls in a 'grand sacrifice' to the gods of the land, but none had ever been successful.
By the bank of the river called the King's Flow, Ikan meets Sarie, a slave girl on the verge of committing a grave offence but could not resist her charm and begins to nurse the idea of a secret affair. Any romantic relationship between a slave girl and a freeborn is a taboo punished by hanging the slave girl. The Prince and the slave would hope the darkness will hide them while he swears to protect her with his life.
When a prophecy comes from the priests that Ikan will be the prince to bring sunlight to Iluji, he finds himself in a deathly dilemma. He must sacrifice Sarie to the gods and accomplish the highest glory or see the darkness continue forever and the dynasty's collapse.
EXCERPT
ONE
This land is cursed. It is indeed sorely cursed. No one on this land has ever seen the face of the sun. It is, as the nearby kingdoms call it, a kingdom that floats in darkness.
It is said by folklore that at creation, the gods out of inexplicable disdain for the dwellers of the land stationed a mighty immovable slab of cloud over the skies of Iluji. This was the cloud that would not let sunlight touch the land of the kingdom. There was no day and night in Iluji, but sleep periods and work periods as decided from the palace and announced by the palace flute man.
It was in the early work period of a certain day when the Heir Apparent Prince made his routine fourth-nightly visit to the King's Flow. He had his usual company of Omta, his best friend and cousin and Obi, his chief guard. If Heir Apparent Princes were allowed to keep their own Council of Chiefs, these two would head Prince Ikan's.
"For once, a real job to be done in this visit," the prince nodded at the river flow ahead. Tree trunks lay in the river; the ones with heavy branches did much to disturb water flow.
"Handiwork of the windy downpour at night," Omta said, pulling his horse to stop.
"Come now, muscles, real work to do," Obi hollered at the company of palace guards riding behind him, "machetes and spades, jump in to do your Prince's business."
Before he finished saying that, his men were already stepping into the river. Some held torches while others got busy with cutting trunks and digging out roots of fallen trees.
The Prince climbed down from his horse and took a torch from the nearest guard. He walked closer to the bank. "I might need a drink," he said to Omta. Then he bent to touch the flowing water with the tip of his fingers.
"The water won't be settled yet after the rain of the night." Omta said, "Is there any one with water from the palace? Your prince wants to drink."
Everyone halted work and looked at Omta. Some were exchanging stares with each other.
"I guess not," Ikan gasped at Omta, "I can wait till we return to the palace. Now return to your duties." He said to the guards.
Further down the King's Flow, at the part where the Ottes go to fetch for their Url masters, Sarie and Maril her friend had just arrived. They were among the earliest that morning.
"Oh dear gods," Sarie gasped at the sight of the swell of the river. "How full the water is after the night rain."
Maril toed her steps past her friend, being cautious of the slippery mud earth. She drew close to the river bank, bending over and holding her oil lamp closer to inspect it. "Our masters can't use this water. We must wait till it is clearer."
Sarie walked close to stand beside Maril. Maril could see the smile forming on her face and knew what it meant. She recognized the tight and thinning lips and the shallow dimples and the narrowing gaze.
"Sarie, you just murdered reasoning."
"You and I can use it."
"What are you up to?"
Sarie put down her earthen pot and lamp. "Come quickly; let us take a bath in the river before the Ottas and Urls begin to pass by."
"You are out of your mind, Sarie."
"Don't our masters usually tell us that Ottes are not worthy of possessing a mind?"
"Sarie, no. You will put us in trouble."
"But no one will know about this. All the people around now are Ottes. They will not say anything to anyone." She was beginning to lift the end of her light silk gown.
Maril seized her by the arm, "What if they tell? You know how they punish an Otte who defiles the king's Flow. They will hang..."
"Yes, I know how they punish," Sarie took a deep breath, "now can you let go of me?"
Maril released her arm. Sarie walked eleven paces from Maril and from her pot and lamp. The other girls were watching her as she sent her first few steps into the river. She looked around cautiously. Then she bent a little to feel the surface of the water. She shivered; either from the chill of the river or the thought of her hanging on a tree by the river bank and watching her parents weeping for her. She kept walking in until the river had climbed up to her knees. Then she slowly pulled off her gown.
The girls around exclaimed in different tones. They watched in awe as if she was walking on the water.
"Oh Sarie, they will sacrifice you to the gods with pleasure." Maril cried. She pulled her lamp away to hide Sarie in the darkness but the light from the lamp of the other girls made Sarie yet visible.
Upstream, Prince Ikan reckoned that the work would take too long than he had the patience to stand around for.
"It just occurred to me that this visit in time past was to check and make sure the King's Flow is not being defiled by the Ottes. What do you think about us riding down to where the Ottes fetch?"
"Yes, my Prince. We might even find more fallen trees to clear."
"Pray to the gods we don't because if we do, even you will grab a machete."
"For that I am not fretful. You know me."
They climbed their horses and rode off. The air was piercing cold, the flame of their torches fought hard to stay alive. Even their horses needed a bit more spurring to draw pace. The two young men, just outside their teenage days were no strangers to the cruelty of the chill outdoors. They were in their second season of life after their full Royal military drill conducted up around the mountain tribes. During this drill, they spent twenty-six sleep periods with little clothing and no real shelter. Yes, the mist from their mouths when they spoke was like from a boiling cauldron, but they had seen worse elements.
Sarie emerged from the water shivering with clattering teeth. She was walking to Maril; Maril was drawing closer with her gown.
"If you do not die of the cold then you will die of a rope round your neck. Sarie, why have you done this stupidity?" Her voice trembled.
The other girls were staring with that brow of inevitable doom. Ottes have been hung just for fetching with a dirty pot. None has been hung for swimming because none had ever been that stupid.
"It is useless to begin to bother about the cause of death. Ottes die for anything, but while I was in there," she nodded at the gently flowing river, "I felt for a brief moment what freedom might taste like."
"Come let us fill our pots and get away quickly before too many eyes notice this riverside perturbation."
Maril began to fetch water into the pot without waiting for Sarie to join her. Sarie was drying her hair with the cotton cloth she came with to cushion the pot of water on her head.
"See." One of the girls squealed, "The prince."
Everyone looked upstream. An assemblage of golden flames was descending along the bank. The royal banner was bumping atop them.
"Your Heir Apparent Prince comes." Someone exclaimed from the company on horses.
The slave girls in one orchestral move dropped their pots and ran to the prince. They were all holding their lamps above their heads as they knelt before his horse. The horde of them had formed something of a semi circle arched at the rare.
The prince, down from his horse, paced a straight line in front of them. His hands held behind him after he had taken his time to tighten his leopard hide belt round the waist of his silk robe that glowed a blood red under the flood of yellow light from nearly a hundred Ottes oil lamp.
"You have been treating the King's Flow with righteous dignity, I would hope."
"Yes, your grace." They said, not in a perfect chorus, some voices coming in late.
"And you have been serving your masters with pure-hearted diligence?"
"Yes, your grace." This one was in better unison.
The prince nodded. "May the gods of my fathers favor and reward you rightly. Now return to your duties."
Maril was among the first to rise and she pulled Sarie along with her.
"Waste no time now. On our way quickly."
"For a brief moment there, I thought he had seen me leave the river or that someone in his company who saw me would report to him," Sarie said.
"The gods of his fathers do not seem to be in the mood to drink the blood of a helpless Otte right now. Let us leave before they change their minds."
Prince Ikan had four guards perambulating his surroundings. Omta stood by his left.
"That Otte there, the one just putting her pot on her head, wearing the brief gown, it’s her." Omta said to the prince.
"Hmmm?"
"The Otte I told you of."
"The one in company of the tall and slender one with cut hair?"
"That is her, Ikan."
"What is her name?"
"They call her Sarie."
"Who allowed an Otte carry a name like an Urle's?"
Omta shrugged.
"Summon her right away."
"Here? Now?"
"Yes, here. Yes, now."
Omta waved a guard to come. "Get Sarie here now."
"The Otte?" The guard widened his eye balls moronishly.
"She is in the company of Maril and they just entered the home bend."
The guard dropped his spear and disappeared. He hastened down the road, calling Sarie.
Sarie stopped. She turned around with her pot comfortably on her head without her holding it.
"The prince calls." Said the guard.
Sarie's feet grew tap roots that held her firm to a place. Maril put down her pot and helped Sarie bring hers down. She touched Sarie's naked shoulder.
"Me?" That was all Sarie could get her lips to mumble.
"Yes, you idiot." The guard said as he seized her wrist. He dragged her away.
Maril followed.
"Stay back, skinny Otte." The guard yelled at her.
"Please say a prayer to the gods for my sake, Maril," Sarie said.
"The gods be merciful on you today, Sarie." Maril cried. She followed with a distance of nearly five yards. When the guard got Sarie to the prince she could not hear them but was able to see them fine.
Sarie sank her knees to the ground and fixed her eyes on the ground in front of the prince's feet. She had half-mindedly sat her lamp by his left foot.
"Noo...no...no...ble prince. May the gods keep you..."
"On your feet, little girl."
Omta stepped forward. "On her feet? Face to face with the Heir Appar..."
Ikan whipped a sharp-edged stare across to Omta.
Omta swallowed the words in his mouth, stepped back and looked away. It was a rare occurrence for a slave to be granted the privilege to stand face to face with royalty. They either kneel before royalty or are seldom allowed to stand with bowed heads.
Sarie stood slowly but kept her face to the ground.
"I want to see your face," the prince said gently. His eyes were thoroughly examining her full frame. She raised her face to him, and then he noticed she was trembling. There was no novelty in a slave girl trembling before royalty in Iluji.
"Please noble prince, forgive the misdeeds of your humble servant," Sarie said with a voice that was scarcely audible.
"What?" Prince Ikan began to search her coffee brown eyes.
"I swear to you by the gods of your fathers that it will never be repeated."
"What have you done, Otte?" Omta started to step closer again.
Sarie turned to look at him briefly then returned her gaze to the ground. "I, I...I."
The Prince had his right hand hung by his back. He used the left hand to hold up the girl's face so that he could stare straight into her eyes. "You have not done anything wrong," he said in a tone he would only be expected to use for a free born maiden, "I have not called you for doing anything wrong, instead..."
"Pardon me, my noble prince for interrupting," Omta said quickly, "but I think this Otte is about to make a confession. I think..."
Ikan raised a palm at Omta. He allowed four seconds to pass in silence. He spent those four seconds studying Sarie's countenance.
"Is that correct? Do you have a confession to make, little lady?"
Omta gasped in mortification. What has gone wrong with the prince? Has he lost his mind to the point of referring to a lowly Otte as lady?
"Noble prince," Sarie said, "please, forgive me. When I was told of your call I hesitated before I began to come instead of running to your feet immediately. I was only scared. Please find mercy to forgive me."
The prince sighed and put his palm over her cheek, "I take no offense."
"Look," Omta yelled in horror, "your robe burns."
The prince hopped away from Sarie's oil lamp whose flame had caught the hem of his robe. Omta began to beat the fire on the robe with his callous palm. Sarie knelt and join the fire fighting with her pot cushion cloth.
Omta pushed her away, "Do not touch the prince, Otte."
She fell with her bottom on the muddy ground and rolled into her back before she could get a hold of herself. Her gown was blown up and all she could do was to try to keep her legs together, being aware of the excited eyes of the guards running into her under. They had a scene already, everyone around the river had drawn closer, even the other slave girls fetching.
Prince Ikan freed himself from the squad of guard still quenching a fire that had stopped burning long ago. He walked to Sarie still on the ground and helped her stand. He stared questions at the girls and they swiftly dispersed to their businesses.
"Forgive your foolish slave girl, noble prince," she bowed.
He swallowed gently, and then patted her shoulder.
She was adjusting her soiled gown, also wiping her muddy palms on the front of the dress.
"You can be on your way now. I only wanted to take a look at you closely."
She bowed and hurried away. He stood lifelessly as he watched her receding back view.
Omta put an arm round his shoulders, "You have eyes of affection on her?" He whispered.
"I need a new servant at my quarters."
"What?"
"Call her back."
Omta left to go get Sarie, shaking his head.
When he returned with her the prince asked her, "Who owns you?"
"Chief Udin, noble prince."
"Hmmm, Udin the noble. Only he would allow an Ott carry a Url's name. How befitting."
She was fumbling with the nail on her left thumb.
He ran a hand over her hair. "Ott or Url, you are deserving of a pleasant name."
She stooped to acknowledge the complement humbly.
"From now on, you serve me. Go home and get prepared to move to the palace permanently. I shall send messengers to noble Udin shortly. Goodbye."
She turned away and began to leave, this time she walked slowly as if she was dragging along a dead horse.
Omta tugged Ikan's robe. "What did you just do?"
"I just added a new servant to my quarters. I thought that was obvious."
"You are asking for trouble, my prince."
Ikan climbed his horse. His friend climbed his also.
"My friend, a prince does not ask for trouble. A prince gives trouble."
"I believe a queen has more trouble to give, especially when that queen is your mother."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Picking servants is in her office. You are asking for her trouble."
"My mother has bigger matters to be troubled about. Besides, this kind of servant is not one you wait for your mother to pick for you."
"Unbelievable." Omta sighed.
"You are right about one thing though. That little lady is the fairest of all the Ottes anyone has ever seen."
"For once it is easy to be tempted to defile the gods."
"One day, one of these lowly and smelly Ottas with incoherent speech will marry her into a tiny hut with a leaky roof and constantly enjoy on a heap of hay what our gods have forbidden us from touching."
"And if you dare take the place of that lowly and smelly Otta on that heap of hay, your own people, the same people that hail you the fairest of princes will banish you to the hill countries with stoning as the gods have said."
"Have I ever told you I am no fan of the gods?"
"Everyday."
Ikan grinned contentedly.
TWO
"What happened? What did he do to you?" Maril was asking nonstop.
Sarie lifted her pot and sat it on her head. "Let us be on our way, quickly. We have stayed too long here."
"What did he say to you?" Maril still stood with her hands holding her waist.
"We shall talk on the way, carry your water pot."
Maril carried her pot and lamp and followed after Sarie closely. "Did he pardon you?"
"He wants me to start serving at the palace."
"What is that? A punishment for bathing in the King's Flow?"
"I do not think he meant it to be a punishment."
"Of course it is not a punishment for bathing in the King's Flow, otherwise every Otte will become a fish." She misplaced a step and had to pause to steady her steps. "How the two of you reached that resolution is what I want you to tell me without holding back a cough."
"We did not reach it as a resolution. He ordered it. He is the Heir Apparent Prince, if you still remember."
"I am lost, Sarie. You entered the King's Flow and had a cold bath. Then you set fire on the Heir Apparent's royal robe, and what he does is to order you to begin to serve in the palace. You either lost your hearing when you were knocked to the ground by Omta or the Heir Apparent Prince had lost his mind."
"Omta is more convinced about the latter."
"Please do not play your pranks on me this time. All the girls that were watching are curious about what was going on there and now I am lost with what you are saying."
"Now listen, I am probably as lost as you are. First of all, he did not know about the bath in the King's Flow. And the fire incident was a total accident and the prince understood it as such too."
"Still it does not explain why you have to end up in the palace."
"And so I am lost."
"I think his original intention for calling you was to ask you to begin to serve in the palace."
"To order me to begin to serve in..."
"Whatever. Your name must have come up in some palace meeting."
Sarie adjusted her pot.
* * * * *
Once she reached Chief Udin's compound and poured the water in her pot into the bigger stationary pot, she placed the smaller one gently beside the larger one and headed for their hut. Her mother, Harriet was by the kitchen door preparing vegetables for her master's family's breakfast.
"You took too long, Sarie."
Sarie did not say a word but kept walking.
"You have two more trips anyway."
She still did not respond or look back. She kept walking to the hut like a zombie.
"You want to rest? Well, don't rest too much, my darling. We are already running out of water here."
Sarie did not turn, she did not pause, and she did not make a sound. Harriet was sure Sarie heard her and knew something must be wrong. She left the vegetables and followed her daughter.
Inside the hut, Sarie sat on her mother's bed with her legs folded to a side.
"What is the matter, Sarie?"
"I saw the prince."
Harriet came closer to sit beside Sarie. "The prince? Not the ghost of his grandfather?"
"I am not joking, mother."
"Okay, I am sorry, my darling." She adjusted herself and made a plain mug. "You saw the Heir Apparent Prince?"
Sarie nodded.
"Oh dear, but I thought you have seen the Heir Apparent Prince before."
"I met...I mean, the prince talked to me."
"He, he talked to you? Did he hurt you? What did he say to you? Is that why you are sad?"
"Mama, I am not sad. I, I...I don't know."
"Alright, my girl. What was it that he said to you exactly?"
"That I should come and join the palace servants."
Harriet began to shake her head and smiled. Wrinkles gathered around her eyes and her cheek dimples deepened. Her daughter took those dimples from her but now they look better on Sarie. "Sarie darling," she said while pulling her to a loose hug, "the prince cannot say that to you. He must be kidding."
"You think so?" She raised her face to study her mother's, "why would he? Why can't he say that to me?"
"It is only the responsibility of the queen to select servants for the palace, not her son. Not even her husband the king."
"He does not have the power? So I am not going to the palace to work there?" She pulled her mother tighter then she sighed and rested her head on her mother's breast.
Harriet took her hand and squeezed it lightly. "Listen, serving in the palace is not a bad thing. As a matter of fact, palace servants are envied among the Otts."
"I know, mama. But I don't want to go where I cannot be with you and papa."
"Oh my precious little girl," she kissed her damp braided hair, "we too will not want to be without you. It is very likely you are not going to the palace, but if you are, it is no bad news. Palace Otts are treated way better than the rest of us."
"Are palace Otts allowed to visit home as often as they want?"
"Otts have no home, my girl. An Ott's home is where they are taken to serve."
"Going to the palace is bad news then."
"If you are a diligent servant and your master finds delight in you, the queen might allow you go anywhere you wish to visit once in a season of life."
"Once in a season of life?" Sarie said almost to herself, "The palace is bad news."