Rebellion

Three on foot. Coming from the south. Damballa Weddo's thoughts entered Amadioha's mind. He stopped in his tracks, the blade of his axe digging into his back as he pressed into the mahogany tree.

The Vodunese soldiers guarding outposts were supposed to be lazy. What did they encounter except occasional bandits? Yet seconds later, the crunch of boots on leaves confirmed Damballa's warning.

Flashes of purple and green cut through the ferns. The men stomped into the clearing, trading jokes. The vowels of Vodunese ground together—rolling sounds and guttural hacks that sounded like an animal choking. Learning the language years ago had felt like a betrayal of Amadioha's senses.

We can't even hide from a drunk patrol, and we want to attack the outpost during Rara? Damballa thought.

Hiding was exactly what they were doing. What does Rara have to do with anything? Amadioha thought back.

The guards passed closer, too distracted to see two Niri men in the bushes. They were close enough to touch. Close enough to kill. Amadioha's hand drifted over the blade in his belt.

We cannot spill any blood now! Damballa screamed into his mind.

Amadioha drifted his hand from his weapon. Don't spill blood now. Don't spill blood later. These soldiers will not be laughing when my axe kisses their necks.

It will invite the wrath of their gods. Damballa projected.

The Vodunese have imposters, not gods. Sometimes Amadioha forgot that only half of Damballa was from Niri. He shot him a hard look. Chineke is the only God. And He is not theirs.

The guards lumbered past, vanishing around the bend of the trail.

The moment the footsteps faded, Damballa stepped to him. "More will come. We need to go." The deep lines across his brow dragged upward, rippling into the shorn sides of his scalp.

They moved up the trail the patrol had just vacated, then veered off it, plunging deeper into the bush.

"I am worried about you," Damballa said at his flank. "If we start your rule this way—"

Amadioha slashed a fern branch aside. "How should we start my rule, Damballa? Should I just sit in Canis like my father and talk of wars I never fight?"

"Everything is so simple to you." Damballa pressed against his mind as he spoke. It was a weird sensation. As if he were reaching in without saying anything. "If your Chineke is so sovereign, why are we hiding in the dirt? Why don't we walk into that outpost? Just the two of us. He will protect us."

This was the price Amadioha paid for a half-blooded second-in-command.

"What is simple about having the legs of the Vodunese on the neck of our people?" Amadioha stopped.

Damballa's eyes widened. He jerked his head left. Another guard!

"Fout Tonne!" A voice cursed from the ridge behind them. "Someone is here!"

Amadioha would not end up in a Vodunese prison three months into his rule. Let's move! he thought.

He scrambled up the incline, boots digging into the soil, but the ground shifted beneath him. He grasped at a root but it tore free, spraying dirt into his eyes.

He tumbled, shoulder checking a tree trunk, hip smashing against stone. The ground vanished, replaced by a rushing roar.

Cold air filled his nose, ears and mouth. His axe acted as an anchor, dragging him down to the riverbed while he struggled for air.

Up. Get up!

His hand brushed a rock, then a log. He grabbed the wood, using it to leverage himself upward and breached the surface, hacking water from his lungs.

Finally, air. He clawed at the bank, fingers sinking into the silt, and hauled himself out, collapsing onto the moss.

Damballa dragged himself onto the shore. The water had stripped the volume from his hair. His mohawk lay flat and limp against his skull.

Amadioha sat up, ripping the sodden tunic away from his chest. It was bandit garb—useless as a disguise now. "Koca ci!" he cursed, checking his axe.

Damballa rolled onto his back. He raised a hand, eyes slipping shut as his chest rose and fell in a jagged rhythm. "They didn't follow."

But a crack of a branch to the right told another story.

Amadioha spun toward the noise, hand flying to his axe—

Reebell Kanu came off the tree line. The Chief Scout leaned against a trunk, arms crossed. "I told you to let my trackers do the scouting."

Amadioha wiped slime from his chin. "How did you find us so fast?"

"You made enough noise to wake the dead, let alone the Vodunese." Reebell's gaze flicked to Damballa, then back. "Now my men are scouting you instead of the enemy."

"Careful." Amadioha stepped closer.

"I can't serve you if you insist on doing my job—and doing it poorly." Reebell peeled off the tree and dropped his hands to his side.

"Reebell is right about the scouting," Damballa said. He had decided to keep his tunic on, squeezing the fabric to let out the water. "But you're wrong about the mission. Revenge won't cleanse old wounds."

Reebell scoffed, spitting at Damballa's boots. "Damballa Weddo. Always bleeding from the heart. If you fear battle so much, go back to Niri and join the Anwasi Council."

"Someone has to be the voice of caution!" Damballa snapped. The veins along his temples bulged, tattoos pulsing dark against his flushed skin.

"Caution? Or cowardice?" Reebell sneered, taking a step towards him. "Your father's blood makes you weak. Tell me, half-breed, where does your loyalty lie?"

"I am more Niri than you'll ever—"

"Enough!" Amadioha stepped between them, slamming a hand into each man's chest and shoving them apart. Reebell stumbled back a step. Damballa nearly fell.

"We're not here to fight each other," Amadioha snarled. "We're here to kill our enemy."

He held Reebell's gaze until the scout looked away. "Tell me what you have seen," Amadioha commanded.

Reebell grabbed a stick and cleared a patch of dirt. "The outpost lies here," he muttered, twisting the stick to gouge a circle in the mud. He stabbed at four points around the perimeter. "Watchtowers. North, South, East, and West." He circled the spots. "Fifty guards. Hundreds of miners. A suicide mission on any other day."

He looked up, a wolfish grin splitting his face. "But during Rara, the miners leave to celebrate. The camp empties. Then, it's just the soldiers."

Fifty guards. They could do it. He turned to Damballa. "These are our rivers. Our land."

"The border's disputed," Damballa said, refusing to relent.

"By thieves."

"You still need the Council's blessing."

Reebell stabbed his stick into the center of his map. "The men of Canis will follow their Eze with or without permission from old men in robes. The question is... what will you do?"

Damballa's voice was quieter this time. "They may follow with their feet, but not with their hearts."

"Enough of this. Both of you!" Electricity sparkled from Amadioha's eyes. "Reebell, how do we strike?"

"There are four watchtowers here," Reebell said, tapping the map. "And a second outpost is barely a half-hour's ride east. If those alarm horns sound, reinforcements will be on our necks. We silence the towers first."

He stopped, fidgeting with the stick, twisting it deeper into the muck. There was something else.

"Spit it out," Amadioha demanded.

"A lord is stationed here." Reebell bit his lower lip.

A common soldier knew nothing, but a lord might know supply lines, the locations of hidden outposts, and troop deployments for the region.

"We take that one alive." Amadioha turned to Damballa, expecting the pushback before it came.

Damballa plucked a leaf and tore it, letting the halves fall. "I oppose this."

"That does not answer the question I need to ask."

Damballa's face scrunched up, looking pained, as if the words cut his lips as they left his mouth. "The plan... is sound."

Amadioha nodded once then turned back to Reebell, jerking his chin toward the forest behind them.

He nodded and started walking.

"Reebell," Amadioha hissed before the scout was gone.

The man paused, looking back.

"Make sure the soldiers understand. If this is traced back to Niri, the war begins before we are ready."

Reebell melted away into the forest.

"You know if that happens, the other Ezes will be just as much of a threat," Damballa said once Reebell was gone.

"The Ezes are scattered like headless chickens," Amadioha scoffed.

"Our foolishness will unite them. A direct attack on a Vodunese outpost is bold."

"We'll start here, but one day we'll unleash a strike so powerful that everyone throughout Vodun will feel it. Today, the bear who cannot reach the top of the tree will settle for the fruit on the ground."

"I am not a bear." Damballa smirked.

"Then you should eat more to fill out that skinny frame."

Damballa laughed. "You think you're fine now, but wait until your gut drops. All that meat will betray you."

Yes, this was the Damballa he liked—not the one always trying to talk sense into everyone. Amadioha grabbed his axe then turned it sideways. "For Niri. For Canis."

Damballa pulled a dagger from his waist belt and placed it on his chest. "For our brothers and sisters." His eyes finally glinted with the same determination burning in Amadioha's heart.

Chief Amobi Umoren sat at the far end of the room, his white hair spread beneath the weight of his velvet cap. The tremor in his hand was faint, but constant. His shoulders stooped with age, but his gaze hadn't dulled.

Eight other Council members ringed Amadioha in a loose circle, watching. Chains of white stone hung heavy across their chests, and dark chalk rimmed their eyes in ceremonial rings that made them look more mask than man.

"In three weeks, Canis plans to attack the Vodun outpost next to the Jeaune Mine," Amadioha said.

"Canis? Are these not Niri soldiers?" Dozie Kena, a recent addition to the Council, asked.

"I have not involved the other Ezes in this matter. I come before this group seeking your blessing," Amadioha said.

"The Council cannot give its blessing to attack Vodun unprovoked," Chief Umoren interjected.

Breathe. Images of his wife's face flooded into his head, calming his spiking heartbeat. "The Jeaune Mine lies within Niri borders," he countered. "It is not an attack on Vodun."

Dozie stood and pointed at the map of Niri hanging on the wall. "Not according to our map."

"Drawn by the same people who exploit us!"

The room erupted in murmurs. Some leaned in. Some looked away. Doubt didn't need words—it showed in the way shoulders shifted, the way silence stretched longer between glances.

What would the founding members of the Anwasi Council say if they witnessed this hesitation? The ones who had built the Luminary and formed Niri against all odds?

Chief Umoren raised a hand. The room fell still. "Step outside," he said. "The Council will deliberate."

Amadioha hesitated for a second. But nothing else he could say or do would help his case. He bowed and stepped out.

He paced beneath the carved lintel outside the room, the evening breeze bringing no relief. The chalk from their eyes still clung to his nostrils. What if they said no? Canis was already preparing for war.

Minutes crawled by, each one an eternity, until the creak of the door.

Dozie's eyes peered through the narrow opening. "Come in."

A yes answer rarely came this quickly. Amadioha's fingernails dug into his palms as he re-entered.

"The Council has denied your request," Chief Umoren confirmed his fears. It was a matter-of-fact statement, as if he had just told him it was night or raining.

He was fighting to liberate his people. Their people. Why would they stand in the way of freedom?

His breathing spiked again, but this time, thoughts of his wife would not calm him. "Koca ci!" He slashed his fingers through the air. "I will attack the outpost, with or without your blessing."

"What is this?" Dozie demanded. "Who are you to defy us?"

"I am Amadioha Kamanu, War Eze of Niri! I am willing to give my life for Niri. What are you willing to sacrifice?"

Gasps rippled through the room.

Dozie's eyes widened, his mouth agape. He glanced at the other members before finding his voice. "War Eze? Who has declared war?"

"Any warrior who goes to battle without the blessing of this Council dances with death," another member warned.

"No Canis warrior fears death," Amadioha retorted.

"If you go, you will go alone," another Council member interjected. "Have you considered the consequences of your standing in Niri?"

"Have you considered the consequences to your standing if we succeed without your blessing?" Amadioha looked him square in the eye.

"You skirt tradition and spit on our customs!" Dozie jabbed his finger at Amadioha.

"Customs that have allowed Vodun to invade our lands and divide us," Amadioha countered. "We cannot cling to the past if we hope to forge a better future for our people."

"Think about the lives of the men you rule," another Council member said.

"Do you care about my warriors' lives or your position of power?"

"No Eze has ever defied the will of this Council in matters of war." Chief Umoren forced everyone to be quiet. "Amadioha Kamanu, Eze of Canis, will you be the first?"

Amadioha parted his lips, but Chief Umoren's gaze bore down on him. In that moment, he knew he had lost this battle—that pressing further would invite ruin upon himself and his people.

Searing pain lanced through his side as if a warrior's blade had found its mark, but he swallowed the bitter words. "I will not." It felt as if he had just fought a war and lost—but instead of facing Vodunese soldiers, he'd faced old men in robes.

Chief Umoren nodded. "Will you renege on your title of War Eze?"

"I will." The words dragged from his lips.

"This matter is now concluded. Amadioha Kamanu, the Council thanks you for your presence. May Chineke guide you in your future endeavors." With a sweeping gesture of his hand, he motioned Amadioha out.

Breathe. He thought of his wife as he left. It might not have been enough if he'd stayed longer.

The Luminary, which housed the Anwasi Council, was close to the water's edge. The constant rhythm of the waves against the shore dulled Amadioha's senses, drawing him into a trance-like state.

Damballa had tried talking to him. Amadioha had barely heard him.

"Eze of Canis," Chief Umoren's voice pierced through his trance.

He looked up to see the old chief standing next to him.

Damballa took the cue and left.

"How is he?" Chief Umoren asked, his gaze flickering toward the retreating Damballa.

Amadioha frowned. What was the old man getting at? "Damballa has been by my side through every trial and tribulation. His counsel has proven invaluable."

"And what of his mixed blood? Has his Vodunese heritage caused rifts?"

Damballa was his most trusted. Yet, the shadow of his Vodunese father always lurked in his mind. "To defeat our enemy, we must first understand them," Amadioha said. "Damballa grants us valuable insight into their ways and weaknesses."

Chief Umoren smiled. "You have our blessing."

Amadioha's breath caught. "Blessing? Why would the Council change its mind?"

"If you are caught, the repercussions will be great—repercussions that all of Niri will feel," Chief Umoren said. "You could lose everything."

"I cannot lose what I do not have," Amadioha said. Chief Umoren was being evasive. When was the last time the Council went from no to yes? Never on matters related to Canis. "As long as the Vodunese remain on our lands, I have nothing," he continued.

"Big words for a young Eze." Chief Umoren clasped his hands behind his back. "You may think you have nothing, but I assure you the other Niri may not agree."

Amadioha scratched his chin. "Chief Umoren, as always, your counsel is wise." He bowed his head. "Please accept my apologies for my behavior in the Council room. Your guidance and support mean more to me than any personal glory or satisfaction."

"You are like your father in so many ways. Amadioha Kamanu, War Eze of Canis, may Chineke guide your hand and grant you victory in the coming battles."

The sun was gone, leaving the forest in gray twilight. The air was cooling, but the anticipation of the coming kill kept Amadioha warm.

Armor would only slow him down. Tonight, he needed to be nothing but muscle and speed. Today would be the beginning of something his father had talked about for decades without action.

He gripped his axe as if he were gripping hope itself, squeezing until his palms tingled with numbness. Then he stepped from the bush, another Niri soldier mirroring him.

The watchtower loomed above them—wooden frame, thatched roof. Amadioha strapped his axe to his back and gripped the ladder, ascending it rung by rung. At the top, he waited for the signal.

A flash of light pierced the darkness, followed by another. In the distance, the sharp cry of a bird. "Coo-coo, coo-coo."

An eye peered over the tower's edge, looking down at Amadioha. Before the guard could cry out, Damballa's arrow whistled through the air and found the soft flesh of his neck. Then he was deadweight, tumbling past Amadioha to hit the ground with a thud.

Amadioha burst onto the top of the tower, his axe already in his hands. And there it was—the alarm horn that could ruin them all. It dominated the center: a brass and copper behemoth with a bell wide enough for a man to crawl inside. If any of the guards got to it—

Two Vodunese flanked it, their positions just out of reach of its mouthpiece. Amadioha launched himself at the nearest. In perfect sync, the other Niri fighter lunged at the other.

The soldier's hand flew to his sword, but Amadioha was on him before the blade cleared its sheath. He brought his axe down. The razor edge cleaved through flesh and bone, burying itself in the man's chest. The soldier's eyes bulged, mouth opening without words. He crumpled.

Retribution.

Amadioha expected a bigger high, but this was just one man. There would be more.

A cry of pain and the crunch of metal on bone snapped his attention to his comrade. The Niri soldier lost his footing and fell before reaching his target. The Vodunese man drove his sword into the fallen warrior's chest, the blade sinking to the hilt.

The soldier's gaze darted to the horn, then back to Amadioha. Would he choose to fight or go for the alarm?

He chose to fight.

Amadioha dodged his blade, tumbling forward, the rough planks scraping him as he rolled. The next strike traced a line of fire from Amadioha's collarbone to his hip.

Blood gushed from the wound as Amadioha staggered. His axe fell from his grip, clattering against the wood. The Vodunese man pressed his advantage, his sword stabbing down.

Amadioha threw himself to the side. The blade missed him by a hair's breadth, sinking deep into the wooden surface and sending splinters flying.

Amadioha lunged for his fallen axe, his fingers closing around the haft just when the Vodunese soldier wrenched his sword free. He surged to his feet, his axe held high.

The Vodunese man raised his blade as he prepared to meet the blow. But Amadioha's axe—forged from Canis steel—was no ordinary weapon. It crashed on the soldier's sword and shattered the inferior metal, sending shards flying. The axe head continued its arc, cleaving through the man's chest in a spray of blood, burying itself deep within his body. The soldier crumpled. Dead.

Amadioha sank to his knees, gulping air. He had survived. He had struck a blow against the enemy.

He pushed himself to his feet and closed the eyes of his fallen nwanne. The afterlife would grant him the peace and rest he deserved.

No alarms meant the other towers had been taken care of.

At the base of the tower, Damballa scanned the surrounding area, then raised his hands and splayed his fingers wide in a silent signal. Five minutes.

Another flash of light erupted from the forest. Niri warriors emerged from the shadows, their forms melting out of the darkness as a sea of red surrounded the camp. They descended on the blue and purple fabric tents in a wave of fury and steel.

Amadioha and Damballa raced into the outpost with a singular goal of capturing the Vodunese lord.

Then, a piercing sound blared through the night.

"No!" Amadioha's head snapped up. "We took out the towers!"

They raced through the tents, desperate to find the source. Every Vodunese soldier for miles would hear it.

They found a naked man crouched in the shadows, blowing into a smaller version of the horns from the watchtowers.

Reebell, what did you miss?

"Koca ci!" Amadioha cursed.

Damballa pulled out an arrow. The twang of a bowstring followed, then a whoosh as the shaft buried itself in the naked man's neck.

"We need to call off the attack now!" Damballa grabbed Amadioha's arm, fingers digging into flesh.

"No! We came for the lord. We won't leave without him." He squared his shoulders. "We finish what we started." He bolted further into the camp.

Vodun was a rich state, its wealth stolen from occupied lands. You could always tell the difference in class from how they dressed. And the man in front of the biggest tent was dressed in finer attire than the others. A tight-fitting shirt with embroidered gems hugged his frame, the precious stones casting reflections across the ground. He was the lord.

Amadioha raised his hand, signaling Damballa to stay back.

The lord stood his ground and sliced his blade towards Amadioha. He ducked, the air rushing above him as the weapon passed mere inches above his head. He dropped his axe and tumbled forward, coming up behind the lord.

He slammed his fist into the lord's kidney, the crunch of bone and tissue vibrating through his knuckles.

The lord cried out in pain, his body jerking forward.

Amadioha opened his palm behind the man's neck, focused his mind, and channeled the power thrumming through his veins. Electricity crackled at his fingertips, the energy building, gathering. Amadioha released it, a surge of lightning erupting from his palm and into the lord's spine, targeting the spot where nerves and bone met. The bolt seared through the man's body.

The lord's body went rigid, his muscles seizing, his limbs jerking in a dance as he crumpled to the ground. "My legs!" the lord gasped. "I can't feel them! I can't move them!" His eyes bulged.

Amadioha retrieved his axe and brought the blunt end down on the lord's temple, rendering him unconscious.

"Stop him!" a shout came from behind them.

A Vodunese soldier leaped onto a horse at the outpost's far end. The animal reared, nostrils flaring, hooves churning the blood-soaked earth.

Chaos.

The horns had alerted Vodunese soldiers far and wide of the ongoing attack, but a lone survivor would reveal their identity. Chief Umoren had warned him.

Amadioha steadied his breath, channeling his energy into a crackling electricity that danced at his fingertips.

But before he could unleash it, Damballa clamped a hand on his arm. "No! How many men in all of Kirina can summon lightning? The burn marks it will leave on the ground... the Loas will know beyond any doubt this was our doing."

Amadioha teetered on the brink, but he wrenched himself back with a monumental effort.

Damballa unslung his bow and aimed. The distance was great, the Vodunese man fast, the angle challenging. He released the arrow, arcing it through the night.

For a heartbeat, Amadioha thought Damballa had missed. But the arrow found its mark.

It punched through the soldier's back, sending him tumbling from his mount. His body hit the ground in a cloud of dust.

The tent reeked of performative luxury—heavy incense trying to mask the stale odor of sweat. Amadioha stepped inside, his muddy boots sinking into plush carpets that cost more than some Niri homes.

He loomed over the paralyzed lord. "Supply routes, soldier deployments. You will give them all to us if you want to live."

"I will even show you the way to the Mysters! Just fix my legs, please!" the lord pleaded. "I will do anything you want."

He's no lord, Damballa thought to Amadioha.

What do you mean?

He speaks more like a common soldier. And Vodunese lords do not beg.

Everyone begs. They just need the right motivation.

Vodunese lords do not beg. Damballa crouched low, getting eye level with the man, and spoke in fluent Vodunese. "We know you're not a lord. If you want to live to see the morning, you will tell us where your lord is."

The man's eyes widened. "You would betray your people?"

"Why are you pretending to be a lord?" Damballa asked.

The man's head jerked around, but his body stayed still, fresh sobs welling up. "I was afraid," the man said between sobs.

Damballa stood, smiling. A silent 'I told you so' hung between them.

"Where is your lord?" Amadioha's patience was wearing thin.

"I don't know!" The man's face contorted as he shook his head. "He disappeared a day ago and has not returned."

Cowards. All of them. They abused their authority when it suited them, then crumbled like sand when someone pushed back. They had fear just like anyone else.

He is telling the truth, Damballa thought.

I don't believe him.

It doesn't matter. The warning horn was sounded. We cannot be here when reinforcements come.

Don't you think I know that? Amadioha's frown deepened.

Then why are we wasting time here?

Amadioha swiped his hand through the air.

"Help me," the man begged, his head turning from side to side. Spittle dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

Then a Niri man burst into the tent, chest heaving, eyes wild. "My Eze," he gasped, "a scout reports someone... something... watching us from the forest."

Amadioha's hand tightened on his axe. "Vodunese reinforcements already?"

The warrior shook his head, his braids swaying with the motion. "No, my Eze. It was... a feathered man."

"Feathered man? What do you mean?"

"A man with wings, my Eze," the warrior replied.

Amadioha exchanged a glance with Damballa, whose face remained impassive. "Wings? A demon?"

"I do not know, my Eze," the warrior admitted. "We have surrounded the area but have found no one."

How could they tell it was a demon and not a man from that distance? Damballa thought to Amadioha.

Its wings were extended outward? Isn't that what the man said?

Why would its wings be extended outward?

I don't know. Maybe we can ask it nicely. Amadioha shoved past the tent flap, leaving the impostor sobbing behind.

The night air scrubbed the reek of incense from his lungs, but replaced it with the stench of copper and emptied bowels.

The scout waited at the edge of the torchlight, surrounded by four others. He shifted his weight, eyes darting between the trees and his Eze.

"What did you see?" Amadioha demanded.

"My Eze, I... I may have been mistaken. Adrenaline from war, excitement... maybe it was just a bird."

Amadioha scanned the forest again, but there was nothing. "Search again," he said.

Damballa's hand on his shoulder made him turn. "We have no time," his second-in-command urged. "Our window is closing."

Amadioha hesitated. What had this man seen? He nodded.

"Burn everything," Amadioha commanded. "Take the bodies of our fallen and any gold or valuables, but leave the rest. Make it look like the work of common thieves."