At sunrise, as the first light crept over the horizon, Sonni, accompanied by Diallo, Sissoko, and a handful of soldiers, finally reached the borders of Benin. They halted at a distance, their eyes fixed on the ruined gates ahead, where Yoname’s forces stood like an unyielding wall of steel. The sight was grim—Benin’s entrance, once a symbol of strength, now lay in ruins under the weight of enemy control.

  As they observed in silence, contemplating a way into the city, Diallo and Sissoko strode toward Sonni.

  “My king,” Diallo said gravely, “the gates are heavily guarded by Yoname’s army. With our small force, I doubt we can fight our way in.”

  Sonni’s gaze remained locked on the city. “I see it too,” he replied, his voice firm. “But no matter the risk, we must go in. I need to see how the people are faring.”

  Sissoko stepped forward. “My king, instead of forcing our way through, why don’t we use disguise?”

  Sonni turned to him, considering. “That’s a smart approach. But how do we manage it?”

  Sissoko gestured toward a group in the distance—people from the Kingdoms of Nehizena and Aksum heading toward Benin’s gates. Unlike Yoname’s soldiers, they passed through freely.

  “Those men,” Sissoko pointed out, “they’re not part of Yoname’s army, yet they’re allowed inside. They’re likely merchants or emissaries from Nehizena or Aksum, bringing gifts to Yoname. If we disguise ourselves as one of them, we can enter without bloodshed.”

  Sonni nodded. “That’s extremely wise. So we need to find disguises and move in immediately.”

  Diallo stepped forward. “Not all of us, my king—just me, Sissoko, and four more soldiers. The rest should stay back to avoid suspicion.”

  Sonni considered for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right. If we move in too large a group, they’ll notice. But how do we get the disguises?”

  Diallo’s gaze shifted to a group of Aksumites approaching from a distance. A smirk played on his lips, his voice dropping low but firm.

  “My king, leave that to me.”

  The Price of Disguise

  Diallo and his men intercepted the Aksumites.

  The startled merchants pulled their horses to a halt. One of them, a man with a sharp tongue and an arrogant air, spat out, “Step away, you bastards! Trust me, you don’t want to touch us—lest you face the wrath of our queen, the great Queen Yoname!”

  Before he could finish, one of Diallo’s men yanked him off his horse, slamming him onto the dirt road. A sharp gasp rippled through the other Aksumites. Diallo stepped forward, drawing one of his twin axes and pressing the cold steel against the fallen man’s throat.

  “Then tell your queen,” Diallo said, his voice steady, “that the men you see here fear no one—not even her.”

  The Aksumite’s bravado crumbled. Fear flickered in his eyes as he stammered, “P-please… slow down. I can’t go into the city telling her that! What do you think she’ll take me for, eh?”

  Diallo smirked. “What else, if not a weak, worthless, feeble man?”

  The Aksumite swallowed hard. “Alright! I admit it! I am weak and worthless! But please, don’t harm us. What do you want? Gold? Silver? I’ll give them to you!”

  Diallo let out a dry laugh. “Gold and silver are not my concern. What I need is your tunics, robes, and the gifts you’re carrying for your queen. You may keep the rest—take your horses and run.”

  The Aksumite’s face hardened. “No. I can’t do that. You want our clothes and the queen’s gifts? For what reason?”

  Diallo turned his gaze away as if considering, then looked back sharply. “Very well.” He lifted his axe, his voice turning deadly. “Then prepare to die!”

  His men unsheathed their swords, advancing slowly, deliberately. Panic spread through the Aksumites. Some cried out in terror, while a woman among them shouted, “Kaleb, just give them what they ask for!”

  But Kaleb shook his head, his face tense. “They want the men’s clothes and the queen’s gifts! I can’t—!”

  Diallo knelt beside him, the blade of his axe tracing Kaleb’s cheek lightly. “You seem like a young merchant,” he said, almost casually. “Are you really willing to let your people die for something so simple? Listen to them—screaming for mercy.”

  Kaleb’s resolve wavered under the pressure. The desperate voices of his people, the cold steel at his skin, the weight of the situation—it all became too much. He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply.

  “Fine!” he relented. “Take our royal clothes and the gifts—just let us go in peace!”

  Diallo grinned. “Now, that’s a wise choice.”

  Reluctantly, the Aksumites stripped off their fine robes and tunics, handing them over. Dressed in their simpler underclothes, they mounted their horses and fled without looking back.

  Diallo and his men returned to Sonni, handing him the disguises. Sonni, Sissoko, and four of their best soldiers quickly donned the Aksumite robes.

  Disguised as merchants, they rode toward the gates of Benin.

  The guards at the entrance barely spared them a glance. Without a single sword drawn, they slipped past Yoname’s soldiers and into the city.

  As Sonni and his men moved deeper into the city, they struggled to contain their anger at the sight of Yoname’s forces mistreating the people of Benin. The streets bore the scars of war—homes reduced to rubble, families huddled in fear, and soldiers patrolling with unchecked arrogance. Yet, they kept their emotions in check, careful not to expose their disguises.

  As they maneuvered through the narrow alleys, Sonni’s sharp eyes caught sight of Woghiren, one of Nosaze’s elite warriors, standing in the shadows of a quiet corner. His once-proud demeanor was now replaced with weariness and sorrow, a stark contrast to the seasoned warrior he had always been. Their eyes met, and Sonni gave him a subtle gesture—one that only a trained warrior would recognize.

  Woghiren stiffened slightly, then nodded, understanding immediately who stood before him. Without hesitation, he turned and guided Sonni and his men through the sunlit streets, where the heat of the day cast long shadows on the ground. The city stirred with subdued murmurs, grief still heavy in the air, as they made their way to the gathering place where the chiefs of Benin convened.

  Though Yoname had conquered the city, she had allowed the chiefs to continue holding council—so long as their discussions bent to her will. The meeting hall was crowded and restless, torches flickering against the walls as angry murmurs filled the air. The chiefs were attempting to calm the people, raising their voices above the uproar.

  “Silence! Silence!” one of them shouted, but the crowd was too agitated to listen.

  Then Woghiren entered with Sonni and his men, and a stunned hush fell over the room. Gasps and whispers spread like wildfire as everyone recognized the man before them—King Sonni.

  With steady pride, Sonni strode past the chiefs and took a seat at the head of the room, facing the crowd.

  One of the chiefs broke the silence, his voice laced with bitterness. “King Sonni, why are you here? Is it to mock our downfall?”

  Another chief, his voice sharp with anger, exclaimed, “You promised our queen thirteen days! She trusted you, and you failed her. You failed all of us!”

  A clamor erupted, voices rising in frustration and grief. Yet, Sonni remained still, his face unreadable, his pride intact.

  It was Woghiren who silenced them. “Enough! Let him speak!” His commanding tone cut through the chaos, forcing the room into uneasy quiet.

  Sonni exhaled, then spoke, his voice steady yet burdened. “Benin… First, I am deeply sorry for your loss and for the pain you now endure.”

  The chiefs exchanged wary glances but nodded, listening.

  Sonni continued, “Your queen did everything in her power to secure this kingdom. Even I failed to return in time… but there is something I do not understand about this defeat.”

  The crowd leaned In, curious.

  “Your walls are strong, your army fierce. Yoname’s forces alone should not have been able to breach them so easily. So tell me—how did this happen?”

  A heavy silence settled over the hall. Then, from the crowd, a man stepped forward—Oriri, a seasoned warrior. His expression was lined with grief as he spoke.

  “My king… we discovered a traitor among us. Someone from Benin breached the southern gates, allowing Yoname’s army to pour into the city.” He swallowed hard before continuing. “I did everything I could. I led as many as I could to safety in the forests, just as the queen instructed.”

  His voice broke. “But she… she refused to flee. She wouldn’t leave her people. Before I could return for her, she was already in Yoname’s hands.”

  Sonni stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Oriri’s shoulder. “You did your best. I know Nosaze—she would never abandon her people to an oppressor.”

  Oriri lowered his head. “She challenged Yoname to a duel. She fought with everything she had and refused to yield. But Yoname… she cheated, forcing the queen to surrender.”

  Sonni’s eyes widened. “What?” His fists clenched as a wave of anger and grief washed over him.

  A chief scoffed, shaking his head. “Nosaze brought this upon herself. She should never have challenged Yoname at the festival. Now, because of her reckless pride, we are left in ruin. Her fate is justified!”

  Several chiefs murmured in agreement. “Yes! It was justified!” they echoed.

  Sonni’s temper snapped. He rose to his feet, his voice thunderous. “Enough!”

  The hall trembled with his fury. “Your blindness sickens me! That woman fought for you, bled for you—and you stand here blaming her? You sheltered a traitor in your midst, yet you refuse to hold yourselves accountable! Her father entrusted her to all of you to keep her safe and guide her, yet you kept pushing her into danger. And the worst part? You still refuse to accept your faults!”

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  He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to calm down, though the fire in his voice remained. “If not for her, I would have let you all suffer at the hands of Yoname and her people. But she forbids it—she loves you all so much, despite your evil. So understand this: I am fighting this battle for her, not for you. You don’t deserve it.”

  The chiefs bowed their heads in guilt, silence stretching between them.

  Then, a lame soldier crawled forward from the crowd. His voice was weak but resolute. “My king, I may not be able to fight, but I can tell you who the traitor is.”

  Sonni turned to him, his gaze sharp. “Speak.”

  The soldier took a breath. “The queen ordered us to guard the southern gates in shifts. My team stood watch until Usifo and his men arrived, claiming they had come to assist us. We let them. But later, when they tried to open the gates, we refused." His voice darkened. “They turned on us. They threw some of us over the walls—I was among them. That’s how I lost my legs.” He gestured bitterly at his injuries. “Usifo and his men blew the gates open. And even now, he sits with the enemy, advising them as one of their own."

  Sonni’s face darkened. “No… Usifo is a trusted general. This cannot be.”

  Woghiren stepped forward, his voice solemn. “It is true, my king. Usifo holds rank among them now.”

  Another man in the crowd spoke up. “Your Highness, I saw him with my own eyes. He sits at their tables, drinks their wine, laughs as if he belongs.”

  A soldier stepped forward and tossed a piece of cloth at Sonni’s feet. It bore the enemy’s insignia.

  “He wears their colors now,” the soldier spat. “Usifo has forsaken us.”

  Sonni exhaled, his fury controlled but dangerous. “If this is true… then when the battle comes, we take him alive. I will see it for myself.”

  The gathered warriors nodded in grim agreement.

  Sonni straightened. “I return to Gao to ready my army. You must find a way to shield yourselves from the war that is coming.”

  As he turned to leave, his gaze landed on Adazee, standing quietly among the crowd. He strode to him. “Chief Adazee, I have heard of your wisdom—even from your queen. Tell me, what do you make of all this?”

  Adazee studied him, then spoke. “King Sonni, this was not just another conquest under Nehizena’s name. This was personal. Yoname targeted everyone connected to the royal palace, especially those from King Akenzua’s reign. This was her revenge… for her mother, General Okankan.”

  Sonni frowned. “And yet, you remain untouched.”

  Adazee gave a small, knowing smile. “Because I do what is right. I seek justice where it is needed. Unlike others who let greed cloud their judgment.” He sighed. “Nosaze may have provoked Yoname at the festival, but Yoname’s vengeance is far worse than anything the queen ever did.”

  Sonni’s expression hardened. “Yoname has lost her soul. She is beyond reason.”

  Adazee’s tone grew cautious. “Be careful, Sonni. This battle will not be like the one against Nehizena. Yoname’s army doesn’t fall with just one thrust; they are seasoned warriors—they will fight until their last breath.”

  Sonni’s jaw tightened. “Then we will double our force.”

  As he turned to leave, he paused. “What of Amadin?”

  Woghiren lowered his head. “He is gone, my king. He died defending the northern gates. They showed him no mercy.”

  Sonni clenched his fists, his grief raw. He muttered, “He was a good soldier… Yoname, why him?”

  Then he lifted his head, his voice softer. “May I pay him tribute?”

  Woghiren nodded. “Follow me.”

  And so, Sonni and his men made their way to the Ancestral House of Benin, where the people mourned their dead.

  Tribute to a Warrior

  Sonni and his men followed Woghiren into the Ancestral House of Benin. The bodies of the fallen were laid in a solemn row upon the platform, washed and covered with white linen. The air was thick with grief—the cries of the mourners echoing through the chamber.

  Woghiren led Sonni to Amadin’s body and stood beside it. “My king, you may speak. His spirit listens.”

  Sonni stepped forward, his hands trembling as he lifted the cloth covering Amadin’s face. Tears welled in his eyes and slid down his cheeks. He gripped the linen tightly, bowing his head. His voice, choked with sorrow, came as a whisper.

  “Oh, Amadin… you were a brave and loyal soldier. It pains me to see you like this. I am sorry—I couldn’t return in time. I failed to keep my promise.” His fingers curled around the fabric, his shoulders shaking. “But I swear, your death will not be in vain. I will avenge you.”

  Wiping his tears, Sonni turned to Woghiren. 'You all fought well, but now, you must find a safe place. I am returning to Gao. When I return to Benin, it will be war.”

  Woghiren nodded solemnly. “My king, I will do my best to secure our people. And when the time comes, we will stand with you. Even in our weariness, we will fight. But know this—you are not only facing Yoname’s forces. You are up against the great warriors of the north, both mighty and countless.”

  Sonni met his gaze and nodded. “It is good to hear. I will be heading back to Gao now.”

  Turning to Sissoko, he commanded, “Take the soldiers and head to Djenné-Djenno. Alert the rest of the army to return to Gao at once.” Then, looking at Diallo, he added, “You and I will ride ahead—we leave for Gao immediately.”

  Finally, he turned back to Woghiren, his expression resolute. “May the Almighty be with you.”

  With that, Sonni departed with his men, his heart heavy, yet his resolve unwavering.

  Whispers of the Past

  Meanwhile, in Benin, Yoname made her way to the manor where Nosaze was being treated. She knew that as long as Asemota was with her, Nosaze would recover—after all, their bond was like that of a mother and daughter. Trusting Asemota’s care, Yoname instructed the guards to allow her to stay in the room.

  Standing by the door, she remained unnoticed, watching the maids tend to Nosaze. The younger woman lay weakly on Asemota’s lap, her breathing slow and pained. Yoname’s gaze softened—despite everything, seeing Nosaze like this stirred something deep within her. She hesitated, gripping the doorframe, before finally stepping inside and signaling the maids to leave.

  Nosaze turned her head, and the moment her weary eyes landed on Yoname, she scoffed and looked away.

  Asemota’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “You witch! Why have you come to trouble us again?”

  Yoname’s brow furrowed. “Please, Asemota, I came to check on my husband’s sister, not to cause trouble.”

  Asemota let out a bitter laugh. “Check on who? Since the day I knew you and your mother, all you brought to this kingdom was misfortune. And now, you’ve done your worst.”

  Yoname’s voice darkened. “It would be best if you left my mother out of this.”

  “And why should I?” Asemota shot back. “Your mother was ungrateful! She never deserved the rank she was given.”

  Yoname’s eyes burned with anger. “I always knew you all envied her for that rank. You wanted her gone.”

  Asemota’s expression remained cold. “They did well to end her before she infected the people with her foolishness.”

  Yoname clenched her fists, her body trembling with fury. “You are evil, Asemota. How could you say such a thing?”

  Before Asemota could reply, Nosaze slowly sat up, her voice weak but firm. “You have done what you wished to my father. Now, please leave. I do not wish to see you.”

  A harsh cough racked her fragile body, and Asemota immediately held her close. “Easy, my child, easy,” she whispered, gently rubbing Nosaze’s back.

  Yoname exhaled, her expression unreadable. “You may hate me, Nosaze, but if you had been in my place, you would have done the same.”

  She stood there for a moment, as if waiting for an answer. None came. Nosaze wouldn’t even look at her.

  Without another word, Yoname turned and walked away, leaving behind the one person who might have understood her—if only things had been different.

  The maids returned moments later, resuming their care for Nosaze as Asemota held her prprotectivel

  Sonni and Diallo finally reached Gao, riding through the city gates as murmurs spread among the people. “The King and General Diallo have returned—but without the army.”

  Guards rushed to welcome them, but Sonni and Diallo paid no heed, their urgency overriding any ceremonial greetings. They made their way directly to the courtroom, where the chiefs and generals of Gao had gathered, already aware of the King’s arrival.

  Entering the courtroom, Sonni strode purposefully to the center, with Diallo close behind. The assembled leaders rose, greeting him warmly, but Sonni raised a hand, signaling them to take their seats. The weight of the news he carried hung heavy on his shoulders.

  One of the generals spoke first, his voice laced with concern. “My King, you seem troubled. And the fact that you’ve returned without our army worries us all.”

  Sonni settled into his seat, his gaze somber. “The matter is urgent. Returning with the army would have delayed me, so I instructed Sissoko to lead them back. They should have departed Djenne-Djenno by now and are likely halfway here.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “I trust Sissoko’s leadership.”

  Nods of agreement passed through the room, but the tension remained palpable.

  A chief leaned forward, his voice cautious. “What is this matter that compels such urgency, my King?”

  Sonni’s face darkened as he spoke. “Benin has fallen. Have you heard?”

  Gasps and murmurs erupted, the disbelief clear on every face.

  “Yoname and her forces breached the city walls and laid it to ruin,” Sonni continued. “And we are not safe. As Benin’s ally, Gao will be her next target.”

  The murmurs grew into frantic chatter, fear rippling through the gathered leaders.

  Diallo stepped forward, his voice booming over the rising panic. “Calm down! We must remain focused.”

  As the room quieted, a general asked in a composed tone, “What can we do to stop this impending threat?”

  Sonni’s jaw tightened. “We need to craft a decisive plan to drive Yoname out of Benin and the entire west. We cannot sit idle and let her bring destruction to our gates.”

  Another chief interjected, his voice edged with anxiety. “We must begin immediately—Benin is but a mile away. Yoname could reach us before we’re prepared.”

  Sonni nodded resolutely. “Indeed. We must confront her in Benin, not Gao. If we bring the fight to her, our chances of victory increase.”

  A skeptical chief voiced his doubts. “But my King, her army is more powerful than ours. How can we stand against them?”

  Sonni’s eyes flashed with a fierce determination. “We’ve faced them before at Afuria and emerged victorious. If we could defeat them then, we can do it again.”

  Yet, another chief, curiosity lacing his words, asked, “But my King, you fought alongside Queen Nosaze. How did she fall if you were by her side?”

  The room fell silent, all eyes on Sonni as they awaited his response. The question pierced his heart, and he felt the weight of his failure.

  He spoke slowly, his voice heavy with regret. “You may blame me. I told her to return to her kingdom while I sought aid in Djenne-Djenno. I promised to return in thirteen days…but I failed. I delayed too long, and she paid the price for my mistake.”

  The admission hung In the air, thick with guilt and unspoken accusations. Sonni’s shoulders slumped, the pride he carried into the courtroom now diminished by the burden of his failure.

  Without another word, he rose from his seat and left the courtroom, the quiet condemnation of his own conscience following close behind.

  Just as Sonni stepped outside, he felt a familiar, comforting presence. His aunt, Zaliya, approached him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  “My child,” she said softly, her voice filled with concern. “What troubles you this time? I heard you returned with only Diallo, without your army. Is that true?”

  Sonni sighed, his exhaustion evident. “Yes, Nene. I came back without them. Sissoko is leading them home as we speak.” He hesitated, his throat tightening. “But that is not the real issue.”

  Zaliya’s gaze sharpened. “Then tell me, what weighs on your heart?”

  Sonni exhaled deeply, his voice strained as he admitted, “Nosaze and her people have been captured by Yoname.” His voice faltered, and he lowered his head. “I couldn’t save her, Nene. I failed her.” His hands clenched into fists. “I’m so disappointed in myself.”

  Zaliya tightened her grip on his shoulder, her touch firm yet soothing. “That is terrible news, Sonni,” she said. “But now is not the time to sink into despair. We will do everything in our power to save her. You must stay strong.”

  Sonni wiped the unshed tears from his eyes and straightened himself. “You’re right,” he murmured, then glanced at her with a hint of hesitation. “How is Sokora?”

  A small smile formed on Zaliya’s lips. “She is well—healthy, strong. She has decided to move on.”

  Sonni nodded, relief washing over him. “That’s good to hear. I never wanted to hurt her that day. Is she… angry with me?”

  Zaliya chuckled softly. “Not at all. In fact, she wishes you well. Everyone has the right to choose who to love, Sonni, and so do you—even if that person is Nosaze.” She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “So, no more sulking. Alright?”

  Sonni managed a small smile and nodded. “Alright.”

  With that, they walked together toward the palace, the weight of his burden still present, but now shared.