The Chief's Wife, Jones M [ebook reader with android os .TXT] 📗

Chapter Six

 

 

Two days had passed. Just as the chief had informed Mwamba, the woman he was to marry had arrived in the village. She had come with her father, the chief of her village, and a couple of guards that afternoon.

"Welcome, brothers!" the chief greeted and led the guests into his hut. Mwamba was present at that time, and all he could do was stare as Mwadime made conversations with the visitors.

The chief's son took his time observing the guests. The guards were dressed just like those of his village, but the clothes they wore were more orange than brown. It was probably due to the dust they had encountered on their way to the village. On the other hand, the daughter...

Mwamba was at a loss of words. The daughter was beautiful. Her skin was smooth and a creamy yellow, a contrast to her father's dark brown skin. She had big eyes that exposed her brown iris in the lighting. Her lips were plump, and her legs and curves accentuated her slim figure.

"Thank you for receiving us, Mwadime," the other chief spoke with a smile.

"It must have been quite a long journey. What would you want? Are you hungry? Thirsty? In need of a bath?"

"I'm fine," the guest chief replied. "I don't know about the others."

"Guards!" Mwadime called out to the men in his hut.

"Yes, Sire!" they all replied.

"Summon the maids to help our guests feel at home."

"Yes, Sire!" with that, the guards turned to leave the hut.

"So, how have you all been on your way here? I hope you didn't encounter any troubles."

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The two chiefs spent most of the afternoon talking to each other. Mwamba and his intended wife remained silent. It was only after the chiefs were done talking when they were allowed to disperse.

Mwamba made quick work of heading towards his friend. He found the inside of the hut was lit with fire as night approached, and that made him feel relieved.

"Wanjala, can I talk to you?" Mwamba said as he entered the hut. Wanjala was crouched on the ground, feeding more firewood into the fire she was using to boil her evening meal.

"What is it?" Wanjala asked, not looking at her friend. Something about the tone she had used made Mwamba uncomfortable. It was as if there was some kind of tension between them, but he had no idea of what caused it.

"She's here," he stated. Wanjala already knew who he was talking about.

"I know. I saw her when she was entering the village."

Mwamba remained quiet, waiting for Wanjala to say something else. She didn't.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say?" she asked, finally looking at him. "You accepted the marriage, and who am I to say anything about it?"

Mwamba furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Wanjala, what is it? What have I done wrong?"

He wondered what was going on, and he felt awful when he saw tears in her eyes.

"Wanjala--"

"You still don't get it? You still haven't gotten it?"

"I don't understand--"

"You need to leave," she said with a disappointed sigh.

Mwamba felt shocked. He was silent as he wondered what to respond with.

"What?"

"It is not good for you to be seen with another woman right now. People will think that something is going on between us."

"Wanjala--"

"Please, leave. We'll talk later," she insisted. Mwamba stood for a moment in silence. With a nod, he turned to walk out the door.

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It was another day. The entourage that had brought the intended wife for the chief's son had left the village earlier that morning.

Mwamba had to think about what he would do about his upcoming marriage, but something else took precedence over that; he was still confused over what had transpired with Wanjala on the previous night. He had gone through every conversation he had with her, but none of them could clue him in on what had made her act differently towards him.

His mind then redirected him to the time when he had told her about his engagement to the other chief's daughter. It was at that moment when Wanjala had started to act strangely around him. He knew there was something he was missing, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

With a shake of his head, Mwamba continued walking along a trail that led him away from the village. It was mid-morning, and the air was still cold due to the ongoing rainy season. The earth felt cool under his feet, and he saw green all around him. The various baobab trees that had started shedding their leaves were growing their leaves back, and pods of baobab seeds were growing on their branches.

Mwamba looked forward, staring a little bit at the hill in front of him as he continued walking along the trail. He passed by a few xerophytic trees, and moments later, he found himself approaching his destination.

It was a secluded area he had found when he was a child. It offered the vast few of the vegetation and the other neighboring hills around him. A huge mango tree was present, and it served to provide him shade whenever it was hot. Mwamba continued walking, and he abruptly stopped when he noticed someone was there.

Not just any someone, but the other chief's daughter. She was lying on the grass with her eyes closed.

Mwamba was taken aback, and his nerves took hold. For a moment, he had no idea of what to do. The girl had not noticed him yet, and it was not too late for him to turn back.

Mwamba went to do just that, but his mind replayed his father's remarks about his immaturity. With a sigh, he turned to approach her.

"Hey," he greeted once he was a few feet in front of his intended wife. The girl jumped up in surprise.

"Oh, it's just you," she commented, going back to lie down on the grass.

The chief's son decided not to take that as an insult as he shuffled his feet on the grass.

"I'm--"

"Mwamba, I know," the girl said, rolling her eyes.

Mwadime's son was at a loss on how to react to her behavior.

"And you are?" he prodded.

With a sigh, the girl answered, "Mkanyika."

Mwamba went to sit next to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sitting," he answered with a tone that stated it should have been obvious.

"Aren't you, like, suppose to wait to see me until after the wedding?"

"I already saw you yesterday," Mwamba stated as he looked down at her. Mkanyika nodded in remembrance.

"I know that this is the first time we are talking to each other, but I want to know; do you really want to do it?" she questioned.

"Do what?"

"Don't act like an idiot," Mkanyika scoffed. "You and I both know why I am here."

"Our fathers want to create a union between our villages, and the only way they can do it is by forcing us to wed," Mwamba stated.

Mkanyika sighed again.

"There are other ways to bring an alliance between our villages, but our stubborn fathers are insisting on wedding us to each other. So, do you want to go through with this?"

Mwamba took his time to reply: "I don't know."

"I know I don't," his intended wife replied, making him look at her in shock. "What? This is an arranged engagement—an arranged marriage! How do you expect me to act? I mean, we don't even know each other!"

Mwamba knew how she felt, and he too was slightly terrified about the near future. That did not mean he would allow the both of them to panic.

"We can rectify that," Mwamba stated with a smile, hoping it would calm her down. "Let's get to know each other better."

Mkanyika glared at him. More seconds passed with silence between them.

"Okay," she finally said. "I mean, what do I have to lose from this?"

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In the two weeks that followed, Mwamba found himself in the company of Mkanyika. Their first conversation made him think she was a spoiled brat, but as he continued spending time with her, he found out that it was not true. Mkanyika was actually a nice person; the problem was that she didn't trust people that easily, especially if one of those people were to be her future husband.

Anyway, things were going great between them. It should have made him content, but he was worried about other things; specifically, the lack of communication between him and Wanjala. She had been busy every moment he had gone to see her, and it was later on that he realized she was trying to avoid him.

But why?

Mwamba was half-asleep and preoccupied with those thoughts when he was woken up by the sounds of people outside his hut. The quick and anxious manner they were speaking clued him in that something was wrong.

He quickly got out from his hut and headed outside. The villagers were talking amongst themselves. The shocked expressions on their faces proved he was right.

"What happened?" Mwamba questioned one of the villagers.

"Sire!" he greeted him with respect. "The other chief's daughter has been kidnapped!"

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

It was noon, and by then, news of Mkanyika's kidnapping had reached the whole village.

"We are looking into the matter," Mwamba's father stated with a grim expression. "For now, we have received no other information."

The chief was in his hut with his son and some of the village elders. Many of the villagers had wanted to question the chief themselves, but since they had their own duties to tend to, they decided to send the village elders. 

"I don't get it," Mwamba commented. "How could she have been kidnapped?"

Interrogation of the villagers who had witnessed the scene had informed Mwamba of panicked screams being heard very early in the morning. The sun had barely even risen when Mkanyika had been taken.

At the sound of her screams, a couple of people had gone to her hut while others followed the fading panicked sounds. At a point, they had died down and the men weren't sure of where to go. Whoever had kidnapped Mkanyika were smart in doing so.

"For now, the only thing we can do is send a search party to look for her."

"Sire, what if we can't find her?" a village elder interrupted. "For all that we know, cannibals might have taken her."

"They weren't cannibals," another elder opposed. "Their attacks are rare, and they tend to target the isolated huts. Her hut was surrounded by other huts, and whoever took her knows about her. They must be bandits, and they want to trade her for something."

"You make excellent points, Mwachofi, but I don't think they were bandits," the old man who had started the conversation stated. "They would have left a message by now."

"Okay," Mwadime cut in. "I don't think it is the time to wonder who took her. We should be looking for her and return her as soon as possible. That is why I want to send some men to search for her."

"Father, if you don't mind me interrupting," Mwamba spoke. "I would like