“He is something.”
They look like princes now. Before, they would wear what they wish, which would mean nothing but a haircut, or whatever somebody else is wearing that they command he take off. But now they wear the loose, flowing black robes that their father used to wear before he become King. As is tradition, now they grow their hair long.
“Will you be chaste now that you are a nun?” say the other one.
“What? Who feeding you words, boy?”
“Women talk at court. Then they laugh. They don’t care who hear. They say you not here to hold their tongue any longer.”
“So the pit of vipers get back to hissing. Will you miss me?”
“No.”
Sogolon enter the room, but they call at her before she can turn back. She still can’t tell them apart.
“Will a nun have a slave, Aunt?” says one. Emini pause before she answer.
“She is not a slave,” she say.
They look the same, but Sogolon feel older. In this white blouse with long sleeves and this long skirt that blow up like a fish in any wind. And the white wrap around her head, so much white that her skin feel white even though she can see what it is. But maybe it also hide her from these boys who would see her get a whipping or a killing.
“You look like a girl it don’t take long to forget,” the other twin say.
Sogolon bow twice, too long and too quick, then turn to leave.
“Nobody here dismiss you,” he say and approach her. Sogolon try not to tremble as she stare at the ground. She is not sure which of the twins this is. They both taller than her, and thin but not showing bones, and handsome with eyebrows always arching and wicked smiles always grinning. You the one who still have a whipping coming, he whisper to her. Sogolon try to walk away but her legs won’t move. The twin look her over, then walk back to his brother. Sogolon start to walk right back where she come from.
“You still not dismissed,” he say.
“Go about your business, Sogolon,” Emini say.
“My father say you are no longer royal. You cannot give commands anymore.”
The King Sister bow her head. “Of course,” she say.
Sogolon standing there wishing for her sack, wishing for her nkisi nkondi, and a nail to drive in. A nail for every single woman in white, with a curse that they wither from within right down to a husk. Or that they die by lightning, or thunder, or their own foolishness. Sogolon have to stand there until they leave. She stand there until Emini come up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. Those two going to destroy this kingdom even before they destroy each other, she say.
* * *
—
A woman who is but air to everybody can do what air do, slip into anything, enter any room, and be anywhere, with nobody giving a care. But a woman in white can’t hide from nobody. Men think that there go a woman who just asking to be spoiled, which must mean that she is spoiled already. Women think that she lose all use as woman and banish herself to the land of women who work their koo with their own hands and produce demon child. Children think she is a ghost, and the King’s sons think she is a target for the arrow. Two arrows zip past her as she get to the library door. She run as two more hit the door and boys who usually follow the twin princes laugh and chase her. One of them shout that is a pity His Excellencies choose to be boring today because the hunting was meager until now. Sogolon running back under the aqueduct and them chasing. Another arrow, and a spear with feather fly past her and land in the grass. She turn back to see them chasing, turn around to see Keme dash past her. They coming in closer, but Keme stand firm, draw his bow, and release. The arrow land right at the foot of the tallest, who look down and cackle. Then a fire burst out, catching his clothes and blazing a circle right around the group. Some of them yell and scream. Two who try to run burst into flames. Keme grab Sogolon’s hand and they make tracks.
In the garden leading to the steps up to Olu’s house, they stop.
“You should leave them to kill me.”
“You don’t want to die.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
“I know people who want that, and they don’t look like you.”
The last person she want to see is this man. Sogolon start to walk away.
“People like that look like Alaya. The magistrates impale him.”
“He is a griot, not a witch.”
“A witch is whoever a Sangoma or any of the Sangomin say is a witch.” Keme walk past her as he talk, expecting her to follow.
“I don’t need an escort,” she say but he ignore her.
“It take a certain care, if you do it, knowledge of some sort of sick white science, to know how to impale a man so that he don’t die for days. By the second night everybody can hear how he moan and cry. I beg the guard to look the other way the third night and stab him in the heart. He smile at me. That damn, damn man, he smile at me.”
“Alaya is not a witch.”
“He blaspheme the King.”
“You used to say he speak the truth.”
“I never say that.”
“So now you saying he speak lie, or me?”
“I never say that either.”
“Make one wonder what use your mouth serve.”
“Why must your fucking tongue always snake around me? Either way, it don’t matter what I believe.”
“First thing which we agree.”
“I save him from suffering.”
“Why you didn’t just save him?”
He look at her like she say the most wild and stupid thing anybody ever done say. And still he look away.
“This King Sister say I should always have faith in my enemies. They the only ones who will never disappoint you,” Sogolon say.
“I can—”
“I know where I going.”
When she take the front, he halt for a blink, then follow.
“They will tell the princes about this. They will come for me and you,” Sogolon say.
“So that the prince tell their father, who will have them all whipped for hunting? Nobody telling nobody. How fare you, Sogolon?”
“You serious? This sound like the question to ask a woman? I fare well, guard. I never fare better. I faring so well that I going to be banished to some hill nobody can find over something I didn’t do. How you faring? Good as me?”
“Please believe I have so much sorrow.”
“I look like I need your sorrow? Nothing anybody can do with that.”
“Sogolon.”
“Help me flee.”
“What?”
“You hear me. Help me flee. I can’t go to that convent, Keme. No blame on me so why I have to go?”
“I . . . I . . . that is our lot, those who are not kings.”
“You mean cowards?”
“I not no coward!”
“Everybody in this empire is a coward, including your King.”
“You don’t even know what that mean.”
“I know people who not coward and they don’t look like you. They look like Alaya.”
It stagger him, even if he don’t move. It stagger him.
“If you flee, all you do is set men on the hunt. The King won’t care if all they bring back is your eye, he might even join the hunt himself. Don’t turn yourself into their favorite sport. Sogolon, don’t.”
She regard his eyes, pleading.