The Wrath of the Unchained-Chapter 147 - A Kingdom of Shadows

Wasike returned just as the evening sun dipped below the horizon, painting the clouds with blood-orange hues. Dust clung to his cloak, his face weary but alert.

Khisa, Tiriki, and Wasike sat beneath a wooden canopy beside the central hall. The air smelled faintly of burning firewood and distant rain, though the sky was dry.

"Speak," Khisa said simply.

Wasike placed a small leather pouch on the table between them. "We found this near a stream in one of the sick villages," he said grimly. "Ajuma examined it. It’s not natural. Someone spread this on purpose."

Khisa picked up the pouch and brought it closer to his nose, recoiling slightly from the pungent, bitter stench.

"Amplified fungal spores," Wasike added. "Ajuma said it poisons faster than anything she’s seen. It kills the weak quickly and spreads fast in water."

The silence was thick. Tiriki exhaled slowly, rubbing his chin.

Khisa’s brows furrowed. "Sabotage... If someone from Buganda is behind this, we’ve stumbled into a political war."

"Should we involve ourselves in this fight?" Tiriki asked cautiously. "Help the Kabaka keep his hold?"

Khisa’s gaze darkened. "We don’t know their politics. If we jump in blind, we might lose a valuable ally—or worse, make an enemy out of Buganda itself."

"But Nuri is stronger than Buganda," Wasike said with youthful fire. "Why should we be afraid?"

Khisa gave him a sharp look and smacked the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"You still have much to learn," Khisa said sternly. "The fact that Buganda is smaller should make us more cautious, not less. We’re fighting a bigger war—against slavers, conspirators, and old empires. We can’t afford to stretch ourselves thin. Even ants can bring down an elephant if they strike the right places."

"So what do we do?" Tiriki asked.

"I’ll speak to the Kabaka myself," Khisa decided. "We’re already working on a trade agreement. Maybe we can expand it into a formal alliance—but we move carefully."

The next morning, Khisa rode out with a small escort. Fog clung to the tree trunks as dawn broke across the horizon, dew glistening like tiny stars on the leaves. Birds chirped lazily as they entered Buganda’s capital, a sprawling wooden complex surrounded by guarded walls.

Khisa was ushered into the royal compound, where Kabaka Nakibinge greeted him in a stone-paved courtyard, dressed in a red robe adorned with golden threads.

"Prince Khisa," the Kabaka said, raising an eyebrow. "What brings you here so early in the morning?"

"We have urgent matters to discuss," Khisa said evenly.

Tea was served—steaming, fragrant with cardamom and crushed mint. They sat under an open gazebo, attendants dismissed.

"My men discovered evidence of sabotage," Khisa began, his voice steady. "Someone spread the disease deliberately."

The Kabaka straightened. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice rising with restrained anger.

Khisa pulled the small pouch from his cloak, placing it carefully between them. The Kabaka leaned in, his nose wrinkling.

"This was found near a stream," Khisa continued. "Ajuma, our chief physician, identified it as weaponized fungal spores—engineered to spread fast and kill faster."

"And how do you trust this... Ajuma?"

Khisa’s voice grew firm. "Ajuma is unmatched in her field. She’s learned from coastal traders, herbalists from as far as India and Arabia. If she says this is the cause, I trust her."

The Kabaka leaned back slowly, his expression unreadable. "Who would do such a thing? My people are loyal!"

Khisa’s voice lowered, but his gaze held fire. "Please, keep your cool, Kabaka Nakibinge. We need to act before they know we’ve discovered the truth. I hesitate to interfere in your politics, but I cannot ignore this. Nuri stands for peace. Turning our heads now would make us complicit."

The Kabaka rubbed his temples, tension threading his every movement.

"I don’t know who would do this," he muttered. "But I can guess. Buganda is not as united as it once was. Clan disputes have been simmering—some over land, others over succession. The Bambejja and the Bataka council have been quietly undermining each other. I’ve managed to keep the peace, but just barely."

He turned back to Khisa, eyes dark. "You think this is internal. I’m starting to believe it too."

"It has the feel of a political strike," Khisa said. "Too calculated for mere rebellion. And if it was meant to shake your hold over the kingdom, then Nuri’s involvement—however limited—could be painted as meddling in royal affairs." fгeewebnovёl.com

The Kabaka grunted. "That’s precisely what the Bataka would say. That I’ve invited a foreign prince to rescue me. They already whisper that I’m too young, too soft. If this gets out... they’ll use it to demand my abdication."

"If you intervene, the council will accuse me of inviting foreign rule," he said bitterly. "They’ll say I’m weak—and a weak king doesn’t last long."

Khisa leaned forward. "We won’t interfere beyond what’s necessary. Once we’ve treated the sick and finalized our trade agreement, we will leave. I suggest we add a non-aggression pact and optional military aid clause. If you ever need us, you’ll have our support—but the task of rooting out traitors falls to you."

The Kabaka looked at him for a long moment, then stood. "I understand your position, Prince Khisa. You are wise to protect your people. I will uncover those responsible. This will not happen again."

"Then we must be careful," Khisa said. "We will treat the sick and continue with the trade agreement as planned. But publicly, Nuri will distance itself. Privately, we will offer support—military aid if needed. You must be the one to restore order. Your people need to see strength from their own king."

"I appreciate your discretion," the Kabaka said, sitting again. "But if I may ask... why are you doing this? You had every reason to walk away."

Khisa looked him dead in the eye. "Because I’ve seen what happens when good people do nothing. I won’t watch innocents suffer for power games. But I won’t let my kingdom bleed for another’s ambition either."

The Kabaka exhaled, his face softening slightly. "Then you understand the balance we walk. I will find those behind this. The clans may fight, but they will not destroy Buganda—not while I breathe."

He stood once more and nodded deeply. "Thank you for this warning, Prince Khisa. You have a loyal friend in me. Let us finalize the agreement today before more shadows gather."

Khisa rose as well, clasping the Kabaka’s forearm. "Then let’s do it. For the sake of our people—and for the peace we both want."

The Kabaka left swiftly, his robes trailing behind like a crimson shadow.

Khisa remained seated, staring at the tea leaves swirling in his cup.

Did I do the right thing? he whispered to himself.

The familiar sound of Ayaan’s voice echoed in his mind:

[You had no other choice. Buganda is in a fragile state. The plague may be a political weapon. We cannot rule out foreign hands.]

Khisa nodded slowly, clenching his fists. "You’re right. I want peace. I want unity. But not at the cost of my people. They come first—always."