The Kingdom of Benin, though momentarily at peace, was still haunted by the ghosts of its past. Years after the loss of Nehikhare, Queen Adesuwa, unable to bear the pain of losing her son, fell ill and passed away. Her death shook the kingdom, leaving King Akenzua and his young daughter, Nosaze, to shoulder the burden of leadership.

Nosaze, barely eleven at the time, was thrust into a world of duty and expectation. Her mother's absence left a void that could not be filled, and her father, though determined to protect her, hesitated to train her as he had her brother. Memories of Nehikhare's rebellion weighed heavily on him, and he feared Nosaze might follow the same destructive path if armed with the same skills.

But Nosaze was no ordinary child. Even as grief shaped her early years, it also forged her into a figure of quiet strength. She watched her father navigate the complexities of diplomacy, absorbing his lessons on leadership and governance. By the time she reached her twenties, she had become a force to be reckoned with—a woman of sharp intellect and an unyielding sense of justice.

When King Akenzua passed away, Nosaze ascended the throne. Her coronation was a moment of hope for Benin. She vowed to honor her father's legacy by protecting the kingdom and its people. But unlike her father, Nosaze carried a fiercer resolve.

The west was no stranger to danger. Bandits roamed the lands, minor kingdoms plotted against one another, and the scars of past wars lingered. Nosaze, understanding the fragile alliances that held the region together, took it upon herself to lead the defense of the western kingdoms. She organized a council, inviting rulers from across the region to join forces against external threats. Though hesitant at first, many came to respect her leadership.

The Gathering at Nosaze's Court

The royal courtroom buzzed with tension. News of the intruders' raids had shaken the western kingdoms, and today, their rulers had gathered to discuss their response. Yet the murmurs died instantly as the grand doors opened, and Queen Nosaze entered.

The council members rose in unison, bowing respectfully. Nosaze's regal presence commanded silence as her gaze swept across the room. When her eyes landed on King Sonni, they lingered briefly, her displeasure unmistakable. Sonni, however, met her gaze calmly, though he could feel the weight of her disapproval.

One of the kings, clearly distressed, broke the silence first. "The leader of these intruders is unlike any we've faced before," he said. "He is terrifying, even with a mask. His presence alone spreads fear across the land."

Nosaze took her seat and responded firmly, "Terrifying or not, if they are just bandits, they will be brought down to dust. We've dealt with worse."

Another king, more cautious, added, "I'm not so sure. These people don't act like bandits. They conquer to rule, not to steal. We must act swiftly or risk falling one by one."

Nosaze's patience thinned. "You've started working with bandits now?" she shot back. The room erupted into laughter, the second king's face flushing in embarrassment.

"No, Your Highness," he stammered, attempting to defend himself.

"Then how do you know so much about their strategy?" she pressed. The king fell silent, unsure of how to respond.

It was then that King Sonni spoke, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "I don't think they're simply bandits," he said. "They move like they have a specific aim. They are searching for something... or someone. But I cannot tell what their end goal is."

The entire room turned to him, shocked. Sonni, once a prominent ruler, his Kingdom known for Its ironworking and central role in trade networks , had laid low for years. His presence here was unexpected, and the council members exchanged uncertain glances.

Queen Nosaze, visibly irritated, addressed him sharply. "And who are you?" Her tone was cold, her gaze unflinching.

Sonni held her gaze as he answered, "I am King Sonni of Gao. My kingdom and your kingdom have fought side by side, and your father has done so much good for us. I am here to return the favor."

Nosaze's voice grew colder. "Sonni, is it? And you claim we've fought side by side, which is not my concern right now. But you should know that this is not a regular meeting. This is a chamber where decisions are made. Here, everyone answers to me. I am the head. Do you agree with that?"

The room fell silent again. Sonni, stunned by her rebuke, finally replied with quiet defiance, "Never."

Her voice rang out, louder and sharper now. "Then you have no right to speak, nor to sit with us."

Sonni stood tall. "I am a king who has seen the cost of arrogance," he said. "Mark my words, Nosaze—if you underestimate this enemy, Benin will fall."

Nosaze's eyes narrowed with contempt. "I AM QUEEN NOSAZE, DAUGHTER OF KING AKENZUA, RULER OF BENIN," she declared, her voice echoing through the chamber. "AND I WILL NOT ALLOW SOMEONE LIKE YOU TO DISRUPT THIS COURTROOM FOR ANY REASON. AND EXACTLY WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO HAVE THE GUTS TO CREATE SUCH CHAOS IN MY COURTROOM?"

The silence was deafening. The other kings, stunned by Sonni's defiance and Nosaze's ferocity, exchanged nervous glances.

Shadows and Confrontations

The room fell completely silent as every eye turned to Sonni, who stood frozen for a moment. Nosaze's authority, her fierce pride, and the sharpness of her words left no room for doubt.

A few seconds passed before Sonni turned to leave, his pride wounded. But as he made his way toward the door, Nosaze's words followed him, sharp as a blade. The entire room stood in stunned silence, the weight of the confrontation hanging heavy in the air. The people in the chamber had never seen Sonni, the quiet and often reserved ruler, respond like this. His pride had been publicly shattered, and Nosaze stood unflinching in her power.

As the door closed behind him, murmurs filled the chamber once more. Yet outside, Sonni lingered. The sound of raised voices and debate drifted through the palace gates, though he was barred from re-entering.

Mounted on his horse, Sonni prepared to leave. Just then, King Mansa Ka'aba, the ruler of Wagadu, approached him. A seasoned strategist and diplomat, Mansa Ka'aba had witnessed many such confrontations in his years.

"Sonni," the older king said calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do not let the queen's words weigh too heavily on you. In this chamber, power is displayed as much with words as with action. We've all endured moments like these."

Sonni gave a faint nod but did not meet Mansa Ka'aba's gaze. "You are wiser than most, Mansa Ka'aba," he replied. "But do not mistake humility for weakness. There are forces moving in the shadows, and if we fail to act, none of us will have kingdoms left to rule."

The older king sighed. "The chamber holds us together, Sonni. Despite its flaws, it is our best hope for unity."

Sonni's eyes hardened. "Unity means little if your kingdom falls before the next meeting. Think of your family, Ka'aba, before you decide where your loyalty lies."

The words struck a nerve. Mansa Ka'aba, a man who prided himself on his calm demeanor, paused. He watched silently as Sonni turned and rode away, his figure disappearing into the horizon, back toward the Kingdom of Gao.

The Invaders Arrive

Despite the council's efforts to unify under Queen Nosaze's leadership, the invaders moved swiftly through the western kingdoms. Their masked leader, shrouded in mystery and commanding terrifying power, seemed unstoppable. Towns fell one by one, their defenses crumbling under the invaders' might.

Wagadu was no exception. The great kingdom, with its storied history and formidable walls, fell after a brutal siege. The palace of King Mansa Ka'aba, once a symbol of strength and strategy, was breached. The royal court was dragged into the throne room, their faces pale with fear.

The masked leader strode into the hall, his presence enough to silence the room. He was tall and imposing, his every movement calculated. He scanned the room before addressing King Mansa Ka'aba, his voice calm but cold.

"You have two choices," he declared. "Submit to my rule and retain your kingdom, or resist and face annihilation."

Mansa Ka'aba, though shaken, stood tall. "Wagadu does not submit to tyrants," he replied.

Before the invader could respond, a young voice rang out. Prince Kunta, the king's son, stepped forward. "If it is submission you want, you will have to take it by force," he declared.

The invader's eyes narrowed, intrigued by the prince's courage. Without a word, he stepped forward, accepting the challenge.

The Duel Between Prince Kunta and the Invader Leader

Before the fight began, Queen Sundiata, standing at the back of the throne room, could barely hold her composure as the tension in the air thickened. Her voice trembled with emotion, but her words were steady and filled with motherly fear.

"Kunta, my son, please!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "I beg you, don't do this. Don't throw your life away. These men are not just here to conquer—they will destroy everything we love. If you challenge him, I fear for you, my son. Please, I have already lost too much."

Her eyes, brimming with tears, locked with Kunta's. But the prince, determined to defend his kingdom, nodded resolutely. He turned from his mother and walked forward to meet the invader, his mind made up. 

The Final Confrontation

The wind howled, carrying the distant cries of the dying. Kunta, his breath ragged and his body aching, stood defiant, preparing for the final confrontation. The invader, a shadowy figure, moved with deadly grace. His eyes, cold and calculating, glinted in the dim light.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Desolate wind swept the plain, illuminated by a dying moon. As Kunta tightened his grip on his sword, his thoughts raced. Despite the physical exhaustion, his mind was clear—he had to do this for his kingdom, his people, his family. But his mother's cry echoed in his ears, urging him to step back, to avoid this fate.

The two warriors faced each other, their swords drawn and eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The invader, calm and poised, made the first move, his blade cutting through the air with incredible speed. Kunta parried the strike just in time, the force of it rattling through his arms. He quickly countered, thrusting toward the invader's side, but the leader dodged with ease, his movements flowing like water.

The battle continued, each warrior testing the other. Kunta's strikes were fast and precise, but the invader's speed and strength were overwhelming. With every strike, Kunta found himself pushed back, his movements becoming more strained.

In a moment of desperation, Kunta saw an opening. With a swift and well-placed strike, he disarmed the invader, sending the leader's sword flying across the floor. For a moment, it seemed as though Kunta had won. His heart raced as he raised his sword, poised to strike.

But the invader was faster than Kunta had anticipated. In one swift motion, he reached out, grabbing Kunta's sword from his hand and spinning him off balance. Kunta staggered, disoriented as the invader regained control of his weapon.

The Invader smirked, his eyes cold beneath the mask. "You may have disarmed me, but you are not ready to defeat me."

Kunta, despite the shock of being disarmed, surged forward again, determined to press the attack. But the invader moved with deadly precision, his blade coming down again and again. Kunta struggled to keep up, his body growing heavier with each strike.

Finally, in a desperate attempt to push the invader back, Kunta lunged forward, managing to strike the invader's shoulder. It wasn't a brutal blow, but it was enough to momentarily push the invader back, giving Kunta a brief opening. The prince's heart pounded with hope—he had struck! But it wasn't enough.

With a cruel laugh, the invader regained his footing and launched himself back into the fray. With a swift move, he thrust his sword into Kunta's stomach. The blade sank deep, and Kunta gasped, blood spilling from the wound. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, clutching at the wound, struggling to stay upright.

The Invader stood over him, silent. Kunta, blood pouring from his wound, turned his head to face his mother, who stood at the edge of the throne room, her face filled with horror. The prince, struggling to hold onto consciousness, turned his body, the pain overwhelming him. He could hear her voice, but it was fading.

With a final surge of willpower, Kunta turned toward his mother, her face stricken with grief. Blood poured from his side as he fell to his knees, unable to hold himself up any longer.

The invader, with merciless precision, stepped behind Kunta and twisted his locks to immobilize him. The prince gasped for air, his vision fading, as the invader raised his sword one final time. In a swift motion, the invader slit Kunta's throat, extinguishing the life from the young warrior.

Aftermath

The room stood in stunned silence as Prince Kunta's body crumpled to the floor, blood staining the stone beneath him. King Mansa Ka'aba, his face a mask of grief, could not look away from his son's lifeless body. The entire court was frozen, unable to process the loss of their prince—their future.

Queen Sundiata's wail of grief pierced the air, a raw cry that echoed through the hall as she fell to the ground, reaching for Kunta's body. The kingdom had lost its heir, and with him, the last shred of hope for salvation.

The Invader's Words

The silence was deafening as the life drained from Prince Kunta. King Mansa Ka'aba stood frozen, staring at the lifeless body of his son. Queen Sundiata's scream shattered the stillness, a raw wail of agony that filled the hall as she rushed forward, her hands reaching for her son.

The people of Wagadu, their hearts shattered, stood in stunned silence as the invader's forces advanced, unchallenged. The kingdom that had once stood so proud was now at the mercy of the invader, who walked away from the scene with a calmness that sent shivers through those who dared to witness the brutal fate of their prince.

The invader, still standing tall with his blade in hand, walked slowly toward King Mansa Ka'aba. His cold gaze never left the king, and with an eerie calmness, he spoke.

King Mansa Ka'aba, though devastated, raised his eyes to face the invader. The room was heavy with grief and silence. He took a step forward, trembling with both sorrow and anger, but his voice remained strong.

"WHO ARE YOU?" King Mansa Ka'aba demanded, his voice cracking yet defiant. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US? WHAT HAVE WE DONE TO YOU? IF IT IS OUR KINGDOM AND OUR SUBMISSION YOU WANT, THEN TAKE IT! BUT PLEASE, SPARE ME AND MY PEOPLE!"

The Invader stood motionless, the chilling calm of his gaze not faltering. He glanced down at the fallen prince and then back at the King.

"Your son disrespected me," the invader said, his voice low but filled with dangerous calm. "He asked for a duel of his own will, and yet, you would have taught him better. Now, he has met his fate."

The Invader paused, his eyes scanning the room. "Well, I will say you made a wise choice. Had he lived, more innocent blood would have been spilled." He looked around the room at the defeated warriors and the weeping courtiers. "Now, you answer to me."

King Mansa Ka'aba, despite the turmoil and grief that gripped him, slowly knelt before the invader. His hands reached out and touched the invader's feet, a symbol of both submission and the desperate attempt to protect his people.

The Invader remained standing, towering over him with an air of dominance. The weight of the king's actions and his desperate plea for mercy were felt in the silence that followed.

Having completed his grim task, turned away without a word. His soldiers followed, their movements as precise and cold as the death they had just wrought. The once-proud kingdom of Wagadu was now at the mercy of a force that had swept across the land with ruthless efficiency.

The Intruders' Advance

The intruders moved forward, entering villages and cities, bringing more chaos in their wake. They disrupted the trading center for the Benin people, and the Benin traders could no longer bear the trouble. The tension in the air was palpable as the kingdom's lifeline began to fray.

In the heart of Benin, the traders clamored, each fighting to claim their position to collect provisions. Queen Nosaze, standing high above from the balcony of her palace, watched the scene unfold below. Beside her stood Asemota, her mother's midwife, the woman who had cared for Nosaze and her brother, Nehikhare, until his banishment.

As Nosaze surveyed the turmoil, one of her trusted officers, General Amadin, approached with troubling news.

"Your Highness," he began, his voice tinged with urgency, "this situation is worsening. The problem is spreading across the west, and it's damaging our chamber. Despite our strategies and the plans we've put into motion, we've had no match for these invaders. Now they've attacked even our trading centers. The way it looks, we may soon be next on their list. If we don't act fast, Benin may fall under our very eyes. Look at our people, fighting for food. When did it come to this?"

Nosaze, her gaze still fixed on the scene below, felt a pang of helplessness rise within her. She held her composure but her voice betrayed her uncertainty. "So, there are no kingdoms willing to send soldiers to help us strike back?" she asked, trying to maintain a sense of control.

Amadin sighed deeply. "Many kingdoms are paralyzed by fear, Your Highness. Even if they choose to fight back, the rumors spreading through the lands… they may not agree to assist us."

"What rumors?" Nosaze asked, a flicker of shock crossing her face.

Amadin turned to her, his expression darkening. The other figures on the balcony, including Asemota, all avoided her gaze. Only Amadin remained unfazed. His voice took on a scornful edge.

"So, you don't know? Well, if no one else is going to tell you, I will." He smirked. "Some are saying that the people we've called 'intruders' are not simply raiders but soldiers from the north, led by their king, and that they've been quietly conquering kingdoms across the west—especially those that support Benin. Some even say that the leader of these invaders is your brother, the one who was banished."

Nosaze froze, her face draining of color. "Impossible. My brother is dead. He was buried," she said, her voice steady, though her eyes betrayed the sliver of doubt creeping in. Memories of her childhood flashed through her mind—her brother's laughter, his fierce determination. Could the rumors truly be about him?

Amadin's words cut through the air. "Some even claim he goes by the name Nehizana," he continued, his tone dismissive. "And that other northern kings might be involved."

Nosaze turned sharply to Asemota, her midwife and caretaker, seeking reassurance. "Is this true? What Amadin says… Is it possible?"

Asemota, her face a mixture of sorrow and reluctance, looked at the ground, her silence speaking volumes. She did not deny the rumors but did nothing to confirm them either.

Nosaze, now feeling the weight of uncertainty, tried to hold onto her confidence. "My brother died, didn't he? And he was buried. My mother mourned him… didn't she?"

Amadin's voice was firm. "Your brother died, yes. But did you see the body that was buried?"

Nosaze's breath hitched, her mind struggling to process his words. Her eyes darted to Asemota, seeking clarity. "Then… explain that to me. Explain why my mother mourned him, if he's still alive."

Amadin paused before answering, his voice lowering. "Your father knew the danger that would come for his son. He was his son, after all. He did what he thought was best for him. But your mother, Queen Adesuwa… she couldn't bear it. The grief consumed her, and she died because of it. That hurt your father more than anything."

A chilling silence fell over the group. Nosaze's thoughts raced. "And the king's name?" she whispered, trying to tie the pieces together.

Amadin's second-in-command, a woman standing behind him, spoke in a hushed tone. "The name is Nehizana," she muttered, unable to meet Nosaze's gaze.

"Nehizana!" Nosaze repeated, her voice rising with confusion. "What does it even mean? Nehizana?" She laughed bitterly, shaking her head as if to dismiss the idea.

It was then that Asemota, cutting her off, spoke gently. "Nehizena was the name given to your brother by your mother. It's a name only she ever called him. To the rest of the kingdom, he was Nehikhare."

"No… no…" Nosaze stuttered, clutching Asemota's hand. Her voice trembled with disbelief as her eyes welled with tears. "It can't be him. It can't be my brother."

Asemota held her firmly, understanding the fear that now gripped her heart. "Calm down, my child. I know this is difficult to take in, but… the rumors might be true."

Nosaze shook her head furiously, tears streaking down her face. "No. I refuse to believe it. My brother is dead. He can't be the one creating all this chaos. He can't be the one leading this destruction. I refuse to believe it."

Her thoughts were in disarray, but she turned back to Amadin, her tone now one of forced determination. "What are we going to do about the situation at hand?" Her eyes were set, ready to act, despite the turmoil inside her.

Amadin stood tall, unwavering. "We have only one option, Your Highness. We must ask the people of Gao for assistance. Although we've angered their king in the past…" he hesitated, lowering his voice. "We can still make it right."

Nosaze's expression darkened. "Gao…" She sighed deeply, her mood faltering again. "Sonni. He's not someone I wish to see."

Amadin pressed on. "Your Highness, you cannot put the lives of your people at risk due to personal enmity. The other kingdoms are too afraid to act. If King Sonni believes he owes us a favor, then perhaps you can use that to your advantage. He will listen."

With a reluctant nod, Nosaze made her decision. "Send my messengers to him, asking for his help. Include gifts as a sign of apology," she ordered.

Amadin bowed. "We will carry out your orders immediately."

A Walk in the Night

That evening, Nosaze took a solitary stroll around the palace grounds, her royal necklace clasped tightly in her hand. The pendant, carved with the family's insignia, symbolized the weight of her lineage. Her dreads, untied and flowing freely, and her red fringed garment billowed gently in the evening wind as she walked along the edge of the palace pool. The torches lining the path flickered, casting shadows across her face.

Lost in thought, she pondered the words of Amadin and Asemota about her brother. Could it be true? Could Nehikhare really be alive, leading the invasion that threatened to bring down everything she had worked for? The very thought gnawed at her, and the weight of her responsibility began to feel unbearable.

It was then that Adazee, one of the eldest chiefs appointed by her father to guide her leadership, approached her. His steady presence was like an anchor in the stillness of the night. "Your Highness, what weighs on you this night? Why do you remain awake at such an hour?"

Nosaze turned to face him, her voice weary with doubt. "My father entrusted me with this responsibility when I was only twenty. Now I am twenty-eight, and I wonder if I am truly capable of carrying the weight of this kingdom."

Adazee placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes filled with pride and wisdom. "Do not be too hard on yourself, Your Highness. These moments, difficult as they are, are exactly why your father put me here—to guide you through such trials. Stay true to your role, and you will overcome."

He gestured upward, his eyes scanning the stars. "The ones who cause this chaos—they have a weakness. Find it, and use it against them."

Nosaze's voice was tinged with doubt. "And what if I fail to see their weakness?"

Adazee smiled softly, his gaze reassuring. "Then go to sleep, my child. Let this day pass. Tomorrow will bring a new chance."

With that, Nosaze nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. She walked toward her room, her heart heavy but determined to face whatever the next day would bring.