THE REVENGE OF THE KING: A PIECE OF FICTION

The fading echoes of mortars and gunshots still reached me as our truck tumbled through the debris of what used to be the ancient city of Benin. I can't say if the sounds I heard were real or figments of my imagination. I had heard too much in these past months that I think I would always hear those sounds where ever I go.

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The city was a ghostly sight, with smoke wafting into the early morning light. I could see through the smog, the grotesque shapes of jumbled statues that had squared against grenade launchers and lost, lying on the ground. I could see the Oba's palace pockmarked with holes of machine guns digging deep into the soul of the kingdom.

Benin looked lost, it looked broken. Who would see it would think we had won but no we had lost the battle. We were the ones fleeing the city with terror nipping at our heels. I shivered as the smog hid the vision from me and the darkness of early morning descended, thick and cloying with smoke and something else, a presence watching, waiting. We had come as conquerors, predators but we were fleeing now as vanquished foes, as preys for a mindless beast.

In desperation, the last Oba of a dynasty that had sat on the throne for ages, had released an evil that had changed the tide of battle. We were all that remained of four battalions of the finest military in Africa that had stormed great Benin in order to punish her for her crime.

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The different kings that made up the house of kings had demanded that the Oba of Benin be deposed as he had refused them the rights to mine for precious metals on his lands. They had fermented a war with two countries and in need of money to buy arms, they had raped their united kingdom dry of its mineral wealth. Benin was the only kingdom that still had rare minerals waiting to be mined.

The Oba's refusal sealed the doom of his people. The military might of the high king was turned against the people of Benin and their instruction was simple; burn Benin to the ground and sow it's soil with salt.

What could the Oba do? He rallied his forces and for three months, five thousand soldiers held the borders of Benin and stood unbending against the horde that stormed her walls. But five thousand men was nothing compared to the thousands that the high king could muster.

Foes stormed the walls of Benin and dead bodies filled the great moat. The bodies piled high enough for people to walk across the moat even though it had been flooded with waters from the Benin River. Then one week towards the end, the news spread like a wild fire that the Terror of Old Benue was coming to take over command.

We had all heard of his actions in the War of Pacification. It was said that he had murdered nuns and priests after having them raped. He had killed babies in rituals to old gods. It was said he had no mercy and did not accept surrender. There were curses attached to his name all over the kingdoms. General Thomas Dogo was coming to Benin.

We knew the battle had turned bad and even though our victory has been assured it left a bad taste on our tongues. I was a major and had my own men to lead but I answered directly to the General as I was also a member of his staff and his fourth son.

With his coming, we soon bled the city dry and soon we were tearing apart the walls with bombs and tearing into living flesh with gatling guns. The soldiers of Benin were brave men but they fell like wheat before the scythe. We plowed through the walls then we gained the city.

As we struggled through the red dust that filled the air, we met resistance from men, women, youths, all fighting with their lives to keep their lands safe. The general gave them no respite and soon blood filled the gutters, stained the tarred roads and splattered the red walls of abandoned houses.

While the battle raged, we were directed, my team and me, to raze the palace to the ground. My men drove through the smoke and screams of dying souls to the palace gates and bombed it open. It was here we met death.

As the smoke cleared from our bombs, we saw the Oba standing before us alone. Gone were the ceremonial dress and the crown of beads. He stood with only a loin cloth about his waist and in his hands he held a black cock about its throat. His lips moved in incantations as he wrung the neck of the cock and dropped the animal on the dust then he turned and stepped through a door.

I should have ordered my men to leave then. We were tired. We had not slept for days. I should surrounded the palace then had some rest but I was afraid of my father's wrath and ignorant of the wrath of a broken king. We pushed into the building and in there we met death.

Naked servant priests, immune to bullets or machetes, attacked us. It was an eerie fight as none of our attackers said a word even as they cut into us like paper. I watched in shock as our ammunitions ran out with our ambitions and the slaughter began.

I ran for my life. The moment I stepped out of the building, all i could hear was the screams of my men as they fell to demons dressed in blood. Fear gripped my heart and I drove with all haste to my father.

My father, curse the man, ignored my warnings. Believing in the powers of his gods, he gathered a large force and they stormed the palace. Again the Oba came to welcome us and then withdrew into the building. The men filled with bloodlust rushed inside after him and again the screams filled the air. Men and after men ran in and never came out.

By the time my father dropped his gun, picked his machete and stepped into the building, we had been reduced to about five hundred men. I could still hear the sound of guns throttling empty houses. It sounded like we were winning the battle but I could see that the real battle was being fought right before me and we were losing.

Some minutes after he entered the building, my father came out. He stood before the entrance, looked at me and he whispered; run before he fell to the ground dead, a machete sticking from his back. I have been running ever since.

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The truck passed the wall and I turned to look at the city. Smoke tendrils snaked into the sky in different places. I could hear screams. I stared at the Oba palace and there was nothing there but darkness and in the darkness I saw a face. I trembled and urged the driver on.

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©warpedpoetic, 2019.