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Chapter 8

The meal that the local women had prepared was maybe the bet meal he had in years. No, not maybe, it was the best meal he had in years. His men were all sitting around the table inside the dinner room, next to him was the pain in the butt. She had being quiet after all the women had left them. He wondered what she meant by they would understand why the women were hunting for husbands, once they were put to work. Maybe they would see nothing out of shorts, it was not strange that mothers were looking for their sons-in-law beyond the borders of their own village. Adding new blood and such to the mix, but the members of their group were never considered. They were rogues, thieves and not suitable husbands. But the local women had asked if they were single. Maybe something had happened to the young men inside this village. Maybe they all joined the army hoping to make a better future for themselves. Although this was ratter, unlikely. Or they moved to other villages, or large towns, to make a name for themselves there. Which again was ratter, unlikely. The village wouldn't survive, there was then only one other option. Most of the young men were dead, maybe there was a sickness or a raid. He nodded to himself, that must be it. Zeudi looked at him and sighed.

"Are you trying to figure out why those mothers are looking for a son-in-law?" She asked, and he nodded again.

"And I think I already know the answer." He replied. He looked around the table to see if his men were listing in, and of course they did. She looked down at her plate and bite on her lip softly.

"A few months ago there came a cry for help, there was illness inside this village and the witch doctors could identify what it was. Because of this, I came down here and helped where I could. Cooking, cleaning, assisting the witch doctors and making funeral cloths. You name it. The illness was attacking not only the weak and old, but also the strong young men inside this village." She said and looked at the window, he followed her gaze. It was already dark outside and there was nothing to see, except for their reflection. "The illness started small, real small. A simple wart on a victim's face, after two days the warts were covering a person's face. It will only take one more day before they appear on the rest of the body." She shook her head. He looked confused, he never heard about such an illness and he had traveled most of the kingdom. "A week after the first wart, the victim, is bedridden and often died in a span of two more days." She said, slamming her hand on the table. She was angry, that much was clear. "If I had not seen it happening with my own two eyes, I would have doubted it. But sadly, I have sat more than once at someone's deathbed, during my time here. It took another month to figure out what coursed it, and it was a banished witch doctor." She looked at him, tears were streaming down her face. "He was not even from this village, but he still cursed these people to suffer." He nodded slowly, so this so not a normal illness, this was a magical one. She looked at her half-empty plate and sighed. "It still took use weeks, to get this village back on track. But they lost a lot of loved once, almost all the elderly and the young men. Even some young children, we barrier a girl of nine, the day before we were about to leave. She was such a happy and care free child when we arrived." She again shook her head, stood up from the bench, and left the dinner room. Idris looked at the men around the table. They were all from different villages, two of them were from a village nearby. So for them it must be even harder to hear, maybe at one point in the story they might have feared for their own families. Simret looked at his plate, he had lost his mother due to a disease. It was in the period that the late queen came to their village, to help out. Just as Zeudi had done in this village, Idris's family was already dead when they arrived. So he knew what the people in this village have being through. That was why the witch doctor had asked them to help out where ever they could.

"Alright, men, let's make a plan of action. One half of you, will help out in the fields." He said and he pointed who was going to be in that group. Then he pointed out four others. "You four are going to help with repairs." The four men nodded. "The rest of use is going to help in the bakery, smithy and other professions." All his men nodded.

"But not you, boss." Simret said, he was inside the group that would handle the repairs. "You are going to rest until those wounds are healed." Idris played shocked. But from all his men, Simret knew him the best. He knew that he was just like Zeudi, a pain in the butt.

"I will do my best." Idris replied, and all his men started to groan.

*******

Doing his best, doing his up most best. Which didn't last more than a day, Zeudi had told him that the witch doctors needed more fresh herbs. And he was so done with doing nothing, and it wasn't a laboring task. He thought so, at least, and the bossy witch doctor lady said it was fine if he picked a few herbs. A few herbs, he smiled when he looked at the basket, it was filled with different kind of leaves, roots and in some cases the whole plant. He knew that he was over doing it, but it kept him busy. Even after Zeudi's story about the illness, he still had no idea how thinned out the village population was. Until he saw it with his own eyes, his men also told him that they were shocked about the lack of young men. Simret who was currently repairing the roof of a house even told him, that the oldest daughter of that household, had suffered from the illness and she got still marks to prove it. Marks that would make her changes to get a man, pretty slim. No wonder that the mothers of this village were grasping at straws, even if they were rogues and thieves. It was still better than nothing. He sighed as he placed an Uyoga, a magical mushroom with a yellow cap, inside the basket.

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"Mister, mister." A little voice called, he looked up and saw a little boy running toward him. "Mister, my mother told me what you are doing out here and she sent me to help you." The boy was holding a little basket in his hand, and was carrying a basket on his back as well. Idris pressed his lips tight together, he never had any experience dealing with children. But that was not going to hold him back now.

"That is very nice of you." He replied. "What is your name?" The boy was now close enough, and he could see everything clearly. Even the many scars on the boy's face, did he have the illness as well. From what Simret told him about the young woman, it was most likely.

"Uyoga, sir. Just like the mushroom." Uyoga was pointing at the yellow capped mushroom inside the basket. "Did you know that the mushroom can people who are kissed by death, back." Idris nodded, he already knew that. Kissed by death meant very close to dying. Only this those not work every time, otherwise there would be no death. "Sir you almost collected every herb, now I would have nothing to do." Uyoga hung his head, and Idris smiled.

"I have the feeling that you are the one collecting the herbs." Idris said and Uyoga nodded slowly. Idris looked at his basket. "Well do you think we have enough Matunda ya nyota?" He pointed at the bush with small black berries, with their white spots. Idris didn't know why they were used, he only knew that they were close by and on the list. "Or Mizizi ya alizeti." Which was the root of the sunflower, they also could collect the seeds of this flower as a snack. The boy looked at the bright yellow flower and back at Idris's basket.

"I know for a fact that you have more than enough, we should not bring back too much. It will go bad in a week." Uyoga said. So there went the idea of cheering him up. Idris then pointed up his finger.

"Wait a minute, tomorrow is Siku ya msichana." He said, and the boy started to nod. It was a small holiday to celebrate the girls and women inside the kingdom. "I believe there is a large wildflower field nearby, we could pick some flowers." Uyoga started to nod. "Well, let's go then. We can't go back with your empty baskets." Uyoga nodded once again, and stormed off. Idris laughed and followed him. The field of flowers was not that far, and it also didn't take long to fill both baskets.

"Sir?" Uyoga started.

"Please call me Idris, sir makes me feel old." Idris said, and Uyoga nodded. Picking another flower.

"I wonder which flower the princess likes." Uyoga said. Idris frowned, that was indeed a good question. He didn't know the answer to that one.

"I do not know, but I think she loves every flower you give her." Idris replied, and the boy's slowly turned red. So the little man was in love with Zeudi, well he couldn't blame the little fellow. An image of Zeudi when she was younger, wearing a flower crown made from Watazamaji nyota, better known as stargazers. Which was a small white flower shaped like a star. He could remember that she loved it, but he was not going to share this information. Instead, he looked at the field of flowers and found them. He started to pick a bunch of them and collected them in his own basket. "Uyoga, let's make flower crowns of these."

"I do not know how to make those." Uyoga said.

"No problem, I will teach you." Idris replied.

*******

Uyoga was running around the village giving every woman and girl he could find a flower crown.

"Uyoga, I am going to deliver the basket with herbs to the witch doctor." Idris said, but the boy ignored him. Good this was his chance to give Zeudi his flower crown. He knocked on the door, waiting for a reply. For a moment he didn't hear anything, but then a scream. Was that Zeudi? He opened the door and saw a woman laying on the bed. Zeudi was kneeling between her leg.

"Well there you finally are. Normally I would not allow a man inside the delivery room, but I need some Kiwanda cha peppermint leaves." The female witch doctor said. Idris closed the door behind him, placed the overflowing basket on the table and started to dig up the plant in question. Picking off the leaves and placed them inside the mortal. Quickly he started to smash it with the pestle. "What is taking so long, o thank the Gods. You already made oil from it, which makes my job a bit easier." The witch doctor said, taking the mortal from him. "Something tells me this is not your first time. Well you can hold the ladies hand and do the thing." He nodded, knowning full well that his hand was going to hurt after this. But it was a small price to pay, for entering a delivery room.

The delivery took several hours, and his hand started to hurt like hell.

"Alright, I see the head. I need you to push real hard." Zeudi said, so this was not her first time delivering a baby. Which was somewhat not surprising. The woman squeezed his hand, and let out a cry. "There she is. Hello little one." The baby started to cry, and Zeudi cut the navel cord.

"Princess, you know the responsibility of the one cutting the navel cord." The witch doctor said. Idris looked at Zeudi, who nodded. He knew that as well, the one who cut the navel cord has the responsibility of naming the child. Normally the father of the child will do this, but Idris didn't wonder where the father was. Maybe he had contracted the magical illness and died.

"I know Arsema." Zeudi replied and looked at the baby in her arms, which was crying her lungs out. "What do we call you, little one." She started to rock her, and the baby calmed down a bit. "Hewan, life giver." He nodded, it was a beautiful name. He looked at the little girl.

"Welcome, little Hewan. May the old and the new Gods bless you on your journey." He said. A hand landed on his shoulder.

"That is my line, thief." The witch doctor said stern. He shrugged, well at least he lived up to his profession. Zeudi gave little Hewan to her mother, who finally let go of his hand.

"Thank you, your highness. For giving my daughter her name, and thank you mister for blessing her." The woman said with tears in her eyes.