CHAPTER 2: THE SNARE OF THE ARISTOCRATS

“Ha! Ha!”

“Mama, catch me if you can!” Three-year-old Takwaba giggled, her tiny feet drumming against the mud floor mats as she ran mischievously away from her mother around the inner palace compound.

Bam!

Takwaba suddenly slammed hard against a solid force. The little girl stumbled back and raised her large, innocent eyes to look up. Standing over her was her father's first wife—the senior co-wife, Queen Buntulu.

“Watch where you are going, little girl!” Buntulu snapped coldly, her sharp gaze cutting directly past the child to glare at Queen Jatau.

Karama rushed forward in a panic, quickly scooping little Takwaba out of the way. She bent her knees and lowered her head in submissive panic. “Ina neman afuwa, Magajiya. My apologies,” Karama whispered, her voice trembling.

Queen Jatau watched the aristocratic Queen Buntulu step closer. Instantly, the playful warmth faded from Jatau's face. As Queen Buntulu raised her chin to meet her gaze, Jatau forced a tight, brittle smile to her lips, bowing her head slightly. “Your Majesty,” she murmured.

Queen Buntulu looked at Queen Jatau, her eyes trailing up and down with absolute contempt before she smiled mockingly. “You forced your way into this palace. You coveted His Highness with your cheap beauty and bewitched him when you were nothing but a common maid,” Buntulu hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “Yet, in the end, your womb could not even give him a male heir.”

Buntulu pouted her mouth sideways, letting out a sharp, mocking tongue click (tsaki). “Hmm!”

Queen Jatau swallowed the bitter insult, keeping her expression perfectly locked. “Indeed, I failed His Majesty,” Jatau replied smoothly, her voice a calm facade. “But on the bright side, your sons have no competitor from me for the iron throne.”

Buntulu walked past Queen Jatau, intentionally using her shoulder to push roughly against her as she passed. “Ha! Ha! You think if you bore a male he would have a path to the crown?” Buntulu scoffed over her shoulder. “The son of a common maid is still a maid in front of the throne. You are both low beings.”

Hearing those cruel words, Queen Jatau bit her inner lip so hard she tasted copper. She tightly clenched her fist, forcing her facial expression to go completely blank to hide the raging fire consuming her soul.

Karama immediately rushed to Queen Jatau’s side as Queen Buntulu vanished down the corridor. “Ina neman afuwa, Magajiya,” Karama consoled her softly.

Suddenly, Queen Jatau broke out into a low, chilling laughter that echoed against the red mud walls. “She thinks too highly of herself,” Jatau whispered, her eyes flashing with dangerous focus. “She does not know that though a bee is small, its sting brings down the mightiest warriors. Time shall tell who owns the last laugh.”

Jatau looked back at Princess Takwaba, the ice melting from her face as she opened her arms. “Here I come!” she called out, running back to play with her daughter, burying her secret plotting beneath a mother’s smile.

Six Years Later...

Nine-year-old Takwaba was now heavily asleep. Queen Jatau sat quietly on the edge of the Gadon Laka, the clay bed platform radiating a gentle heat from the coals beneath. She gently patted her daughter to sleep, her fingers softly tracing the smooth lines of Takwaba's face.

The time had come.

“Call Jagora today,” Queen Jatau commanded quietly into the shadows of the room. “Tell him that the training shall commence tomorrow. She is old enough now.”

Karama’s eyes widened in sheer panic, her breath catching. “My Queen... Princess Takwaba is still a young child. And isn’t Jagora even exempted from training ever again? He might be the greatest master of war this realm has ever seen, but he is a traitor in the eyes of the King.”

Queen Jatau turned her head slowly, her sharp gaze narrowing as she eyed Karama coldly. “I do not like it when you ask too many questions.”

Karama quickly bowed her head flat to the floor mats. “I am sorry, my Queen. I ask for your forgiveness.”

Queen Jatau turned back to her sleeping daughter, her voice dropping to a smooth, unyielding whisper. “I know she is young. But if I want her to be strong enough to survive this family, her training must commence now. She must be perfected in secret, away from the eyes of all.”

Jatau adjusted her rich wrap, her eyes reflecting the dim firelight. “And before she takes her first sword from Jagora, we are going to Boka Hadari. He will ask the spirits of the savanna to protect and fortify my daughter from all evil.”

Karama raised her head slightly, nodding in understanding. “Indeed, my Queen, you are wise. When Jagora was sentenced to a brutal execution by the state council years ago, you helped him—lightning his sentence and saving his life. He is forever grateful to you. And Boka Hadari is a living legend for executing his mystical medicines perfectly. He does not work for anyone—not even the King—but he was your father’s closest ally. When your father died, he left your protection in the Boka’s hands.”

Queen Jatau smirked, a dark, triumphant look crossing her beautiful features. “How do you think I survived in this palace as a maid since the first day I stepped my feet inside these mud walls? If I had not had an agenda, I would have been destroyed. I am a Queen, just like the daughters of kings. I never needed to bow regardless of their position, but I did it because I had to let them lower their guard. I needed them to look down on me while I built my army in the shadows.”

Jatau leaned over the bed, looking deeper into her daughter's peaceful face, her fingers gently brushing a stray braid away from Takwaba's forehead.

“I will make you a Queen,” Jatau vowed silently.

Karama watched her master, deeply impressed by her cold brilliance. “Indeed, my Queen. Your wisdom always exceeds my foresight.”