Amina's pride 8

AMINA'S PRIDE

Episode 8

The Prince of Kanem Dazau had come to pay Abdul a visit. After the royal house, the most powerful man in town was Abdul, and the Prince and his father usually consulted Abdul before taking any important political decision.
“It has been a very long time my friend,” Prince Fadin said. He hadn’t visited Abdul for two years. Word about the ranchers depression had spread over the land and the regal hadn’t wanted to bother Abdul with matters of the land.

However, the latest development couldn’t be handled by the royal family alone. Kanem Dazau was under attack by some mischievous bandits, and they had to be brought to book.
“You all left me in my hole to rot,” Abdul replied with a smile. He was happy to see the prince. He had wanted to send for Nabila and Keerna to serve the regal some food or wine, but he declined. Abdul had a feeling that something grave had happened.
Fadin smiled, “you were in deep sorrow Abdul. We all know how much you cherished Fatma. She was indeed a virtuous woman. I didn’t want to disturb you.” Everyone in Kanem Dazau knew of the strong bond that had existed between Fatma and Abdul. Many feared Abdul would kill himself after the death of his wife, but he shocked them all with his resilience.
“I appreciate your visit. How is the King?”
“The Sultan is in great health, but he sent me to you first.”
“I see,” Abdul touched his beard gently.
The prince knew it was time to tell Abdul about the threat from the Western Cattle owners.
“Five horses have been under attack for some months now. At first, we thought we were dealing with local thieves and robbers, but the situation has only gotten worse. We found evidence at one of the ranches that had been attacked by these men…” the prince pulled out a scarf from his pocket and handed it to Abdul.
Abdul took it gently and ran his eyes over the fabric. He felt the softness of the silky material and the Arabic inscriptions that were on it. Only the Fulani and Shuwa tribes of the Great plain had this style of writing.
“The bandits are from the Great Plain?” Abdul wondered.
“We think so too. I have heard word from Mohammed, the information seller from the Great Plain. Mohammed says that certain rancher wants to rule all the cattle lands. He wants everyone to bow to him. He plans to unite all the cattle towns and fight anyone who would stand against him.” The prince informed Abdul.
Abdul fondled the silky scarf. He was eager to know this man.
“Does he have a name, this power hungry man?” Abdul asked.
The prince shook his head, “we are not sure but Mohammed only revealed his location.”
“Where is that?” Abdul asked.
“A little town in the Great Plain, Dafa.”
At the mention of that name, the scarf wriggled out of Abdul’s hands. His heart pounded heavily against his chest. Blood pumped into his ears. The only man that could think of such conquest was Idris. One thing Abdul had learned about Idris, was this; he was strong willed and unstoppable.
“Are you alright?” The prince noticed the fire in Abdul’s eyes.
Many people in Kanem Dazau didn’t know much about Abdul’s history. Most of the City dwellers had come to meet him an already made man. They didn’t know that he had left Dafa for a reason. He had left Dafa because of Idris’ cruelty and Tukur’s support of him.
“I have encountered this man you speak of. There is only one man that can dream of ruling all the lands. He is none other than Idris. I have fought with him, and he killed five of my men. I could never forget his brutality and cruelty.”
The prince was shocked.
“What do we do now? He seems like a very dangerous man. Our land could never bow to his authority and he knows this. Kanuris can never bow to a Shuwa or a Fulani. We are not the Hausas that they conquered. We would fight with our blood.”
Abdul loved the courage of the prince, “It is easy to say these things. All the Kanuri towns and cities, have no choice but to come together. Idris is like a brooding viper. It won’t be long before he attacks us.”
“Very well, I must tell the King what you have said. We would have a meeting at the palace soon.” The prince rose to his feet and shook hands with Abdul. He noticed how gallant Abdul’s face was today. Was he done grieving for his wife?
Just as the men were still holding hands, Amina strolled into her husband’s chambers. Her eyes almost popped out of her head, as she realized that the visitor was still around.
“Apologies, I am sorry.” Amina was about stepping out of the room when Abdul called her back. He introduced her to the King as his wife and it shocked Fadin.
Never in Fadin’s life had he come across such delectable beauty.
“Your eyes are enthralling. You have charmed your way into my friend’s heart.” Fadin winked at Abdul whose eyes were fixed on his new bride.
“Thank you my Lord,” Amina bowed her head shyly.
“You always pick the best Abdul. I pray Allah grants you happiness.” The Prince bowed his head and strolled out with the guards he had come with.
Amina’s face was flushed the moment the prince left. The restlessness she felt around him had returned. How long would she continue living like this?
“What are you thinking about?” Abdul grabbed her small hands and stared into her eyes.
“Nothing,” she shook her head.
Abdul was drawn to her like moth to flame. But the latest revelation from the prince made him wonder, if Amina had come to marry him or if she was a spy for Mallam Idris.
He would speak to the information seller himself or his friend Hazim. He needed to be sure of what to do next.
“You are everything I have always wanted in a woman.” Abdul murmured
Amina was shy. She didn’t know the right words to speak in return.
“I hope you are real my darling. You have helped me overcome my pain.” Abdul’s hands caressed her hair.
She wondered what pain he was talking about. Amina realized she didn’t know much about her husband Abdul. And she desired to be a part of this man.
He dropped a sweet kiss on her forehead and pulled her into his arms. God had seen his pain, and brought someone to replace his Fatma. His only prayer was that Amina was innocent. He had faith that she wasn’t like her father, Tukur. He would love her with patience and kindness.
                                   
The City Square was the busiest place in Kanem Dazau. Potion vendors and traders were scattered like sea shells. Women of low virtue stood by the brick walls of the square and advertised their heavily made up faces and the henna designs on their arms. At the far end of the square was a building on its own. It was made with terracotta and a red roof. This was the domain of the information seller, Mohammed Abdulazid.