The palace of Benin hummed with peace—the markets were filled with merchants, farmers worked their fields, and the joyful cries of children echoed throughout the city. Yet, beneath the surface, an ember of vengeance burned in Prince Nehikhare's heart.
As he grew, Nehikhare trained relentlessly in combat. The royal courtyard became his battleground, where he sparred with seasoned warriors, testing his skills against the kingdom's finest. Yet it was not his father, King Akenzua's teachings that guided him, but the whispers of his grandfather.
King Akhigbe, frail in body but sharp in mind, often summoned Nehikhare. He filled the boy's ears with stories of valor, betrayal, and the treachery of neighboring kingdoms. "You are not just a prince, Nehikhare," he told him one evening, his voice gravelly. "You are the blade of this kingdom. And a blade must cut."
By the age of fourteen, Nehikhare had become more than just a boy—he was the living embodiment of Akhigbe's unyielding will. Behind his father's back, Nehikhare rallied a small group of loyal followers—warriors who still believed in Akhigbe's vision of dominance. Among them was General Okankan, the kingdom's fiercest female warrior, who had been a trusted confidante of Akhigbe. Her loyalty was matched only by her thirst for revenge against those who had wronged the old king.
But Nehikhare's closest companion was Yoname, Okankan's daughter. Though she admired Nehikhare, Yoname grew uneasy at the thought of rebellion. She saw the cracks in Akhigbe's vision and feared the consequences of Nehikhare's growing defiance.
When King Akhigbe passed, Nehikhare mourned him deeply. At the funeral pyre, he stood stoically, clutching the blade his grandfather had gifted him—a weapon meant for vengeance.
That same night, Nehikhare made a decision. Under cover of darkness, he gathered his followers and whispered the plan that had been forming for years. "We will avenge my uncles' blood," he declared, his voice filled with resolve. "The kingdoms that conspired against my family will pay."
Yoname, torn between loyalty and fear, spoke against the plan. "This path will lead us to ruin," she said, her voice shaking. "Your father has worked hard to build peace. Do not destroy it."
But Nehikhare remained steadfast. "Peace built on the blood of my family is no peace at all," he answered. "I will not rest until justice is served."
In secret, they began their campaign. Disguised as outlaws, Nehikhare and his followers launched swift, brutal raids on the neighboring kingdoms. They struck under the cover of night, leaving no trace of their origins. Villages were set ablaze, soldiers fell, and fear spread like wildfire.
For months, their identities remained hidden. But soon, whispers reached King Akenzua's court—whispers of a masked warrior leading attacks in the name of Benin's old king. When the truth was finally revealed, it shook the kingdom to its core.
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The Confrontation with Akenzua
King Akenzua summoned Nehikhare to the royal court. Standing before his father, the young prince was unrepentant, his blade still stained with the blood of their enemies.
"You have defied my rule," Akenzua said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "You have brought shame to this kingdom and our family."
"I have brought justice," Nehikhare replied, his eyes ablaze. "The blood of my uncles cries out from the earth, and I will not remain silent."
Akenzua's judgment was swift. "You are banished from this land," he declared. "Go to the Kingdom of Meroe in the north. There, you will learn discipline and restraint."
As Nehikhare was escorted away, his mother and sister, Nosaze, wept. But the boy held his head high, his heart still burning with the fire of vengeance. Yet, fate had other plans. Nehikhare escaped into the dense forests bordering Benin.
Rumors spread like wildfire: the prince had been slain by bandits. King Akenzua, desperate to protect his son from further retaliation, allowed the rumors to spread. A burial was held, and the kingdom mourned. But in the shadows, Nehikhare survived, biding his time and waiting for the moment when he could return—not as a prince, but as a reckoning.
The Death of General Okankan
In the wake of Nehikhare's disappearance, Akenzua turned his attention to eradicating any remnants of Akhigbe's influence. It wasn't enough that Nehikhare had vanished; Akenzua sought to eliminate all of his father's loyalists.
One of those targeted was General Okankan, one of Akhigbe's most steadfast supporters. Even after Akhigbe's death, Okankan remained loyal, raising her daughter Yoname in the shadow of Benin's former glory.
When Akenzua's soldiers came to arrest Okankan, she refused to surrender. She told Yoname to hide, shielding her from the violence that was about to unfold. Aigbe, the king's officer, frustrated by Okankan's defiance, locked her in her home and set it ablaze.
Yoname, trembling in fear, watched from her hidden vantage point as the flames consumed her mother. The image of Okankan's fiery death would haunt her for the rest of her life.
That night, Yoname fled the kingdom. At just fourteen years old, she began a harrowing journey to the Kingdom of Aksum, a place known for its peace and safety. There, she sought refuge, leaving behind the horrors of Benin.
The Seeds of Vengeance
Okankan's death sent shockwaves through the remnants of Akhigbe's loyalists. Many scattered, fearing Akenzua's wrath. For Nehikhare, the loss of Okankan only solidified his resolve. In exile, he vowed to rebuild Akhigbe's legacy.
"The time for weakness is over," he declared to his growing band of followers. "We will rise again, and those who destroyed my family will pay."
Though Nehikhare had vanished from Benin, his presence loomed large in the minds of those who had wronged him. In the forests beyond Benin's reach, he forged a future steeped in vengeance.