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Chapter Fourteen: When the Earth Answered
THE FORBIDDEN TWINS
Chapter Fourteen: When the Earth Answered
The disturbance at the sacred grove was not the only thing troubling Agu’s priest.
For three mornings, he had risen before the village and found the same patch of earth marked with fresh footprints. Each time he examined them, the trail ended among the old stones, where the soil was too hard to preserve a clear impression.
On the fourth morning, he carried no offering.
He went alone.
The grove was quiet when he arrived. He stood before the stones, bowed his head and called upon the god whose service had been entrusted to him.
“Agu, I have watched as you commanded. Yet I do not understand what I am watching for.”
The leaves above him stirred.
He waited.
A deep sound rolled beneath the earth, so low that he felt it through the soles of his feet before he heard it. The stones trembled. A bird burst from the branches, beating its wings wildly as it fled.
Then the grove fell still.
The priest lowered himself to his knees.
A presence had entered the place.
He could not see Agu as he might see another man, but the air had grown heavy, carrying the scent of rain upon dry ground. The priest pressed his forehead to the earth.
“My lord.”
Agu's voice reached him.
“Has anyone spoken of what you have seen?”
“No, my lord.”
“Keep it so.”
The priest swallowed. “And Okuwa’s household?”
“Continue to watch.”
“Is the household in danger?”
For a moment, there was no answer.
“Danger does not always announce itself as an enemy,” Agu said. “Nor does every strange occurrence come to destroy what it touches.”
The priest raised his head slightly.
“Then how shall I know the difference?”
“You will know what you need to know when the time comes.”
The weight in the grove lifted.
The priest remained kneeling long after the presence had departed. He had received no explanation, only another instruction. Yet one part of Agu’s words stayed with him.
Not every strange occurrence came to destroy what it touched.
He wondered why his god had chosen to tell him that.
***
By midday, Adanna could no longer ignore the weakness that had troubled her for days.
She had risen early and attempted to finish her usual work, but the heat pressed heavily upon her. When she stood to carry a bowl inside, the ground seemed to tilt beneath her feet.
She caught the doorway before she fell.
“Adanna!”
Nkechimka reached her first.
“Sit down before you hurt yourself.”
“I am fine,” Adanna insisted, though her face had lost its colour.
“Then sit down while you are fine.”
Nkechimka took the bowl from her and helped her settle on a low stool. One of her daughters hurried to fetch water.
Okuwa returned to the compound shortly afterwards and found the women gathered around Adanna.
“What happened?”
“She nearly fell,” Nkechimka answered. “And before you ask, she has been looking unwell for some time.”
Adanna shot her a displeased glance.
“What? Should I have watched you strike your head against the ground?”
Okuwa crouched beside his wife.
“Have you sent for anyone?”
“Not yet,” Adanna replied.
“Then we shall send for someone who knows what to do.”
There was no argument. Okuwa called for an older woman experienced in caring for expectant mothers, and the household adjusted itself around the decision.
As the woman examined Adanna and asked her questions, the truth became harder to dismiss. Adanna had suspected it privately, but she had said nothing because suspicion was not certainty.
Now, with the older woman's careful questions, the possibility could no longer be brushed aside.
Okuwa sat very still as he listened.
Nkechimka watched him, then looked towards Adanna.
She felt no jealousy at that moment. Whatever complicated feelings might arise in the future, a woman's weakness was not something to celebrate, and a pregnancy was not a promise that everything would go well.
She brought Adanna water and helped her lie comfortably.
“You should have said something,” she murmured.
“I was not certain.”
“You could have told me that much.”
Adanna looked at her.
“I know.”
It was a small answer, but Nkechimka accepted it. There would be time enough for other questions.
***
That evening, Agu’s priest stood outside his dwelling, looking towards the distant roofs of Umuezuna.
He had not visited Okuwa’s compound, nor had he received permission to speak of the god’s instructions. He knew better than to turn a command into a story for the village.
Yet he could not shake the feeling that the days ahead would demand more of him than watching from a distance.
He returned inside and prepared the sacred place for the night.
Far away from the grove, Adanna rested while the household settled around her. Okuwa checked on her before sleeping, and Nkechimka made certain the children did not disturb her.
The compound grew quiet.
Outside, the wind moved through the trees, carrying the scent of rain towards Umuezuna.
No one knew what the next day would bring.