Pristine, p.1
Pristine, page 1
First Published in Great Britain in 2023 by
LOVE AFRICA PRESS
103 Reaver House, 12 East Street, Epsom KT17 1HX
www.loveafricapress.com
Text copyright © Emem Bassey, 2023
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
The right of Emem Bassey to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Available in eBook and paperback format
A Ridiculous Royal Tale series:
Inside Out
Pristine
Age Is No Bother series:
Fine Wine
Fine Maple
Fine Scotch
Fine Ending
Dedication
To my mother's people in Mkpani, Yakurr Local Government Area, of Northern Cross River State. May this story be a constant reminder to keep peace.
Wofai.
Acknowledgements
My first recognition will always be God for his numerous blessings, especially for the talent and wisdom to churn out beautiful stories.
I'm grateful to Love Africa Press for taking up this story. It is quite dear to my heart as some of the happenings in there were true.
Utmost gratitude goes to Zee, my super editor on this story. She's a writer's editor, making a writer's voice even sharper and the story better told. I'm grateful.
I acknowledge my heritage from my mother's side. I'm proud to be a grandchild from Lekanakpakpa. The people and culture have granted me numerous beautiful stories to experience and write.
Love to my family, especially my husband and our new baby. I love you.
Blurb
Princess Nkoyo is twenty months into a happy and loving marriage to her soulmate, Prince Onen of Atam Kingdom. Then she begins having nightmares of wars in the wild era of slave eradication, connected to the vintage ring traditionally handed down to all first sons of Atam Kingdom for their wives. The ring has chosen Nkoyo to reveal what was and should be. The past will have its say with visions of a forbidden love story between Nnanke and Okoi—a priestess meant only for the gods and an escaped slave simply seeking a way home to his motherland. But does it hold the key to saving the future of Atam Kingdom?
Prologue
Spirits have always been aware of and, most times, in control of circumstances in the human realm. I say most times because I’ve come to realize a salient truth in man’s genetic makeup: the human race just loves complications.
And so, even when the spirits prod and direct and create circumstances to make man take certain decisions that would affect a particular era in eternity, you can be assured someone is bound to rebel from those spiritual plans.
Sometimes, it’s a good thing, especially if that someone renegades from a bad spiritual plan. But when it’s a good spiritual plan, for the good of all, and a belligerent man insists on rejecting all the prods, well, in that case, destinies change.
While I was able to—
Oh, sorry, I forgot to let you know, this is your favourite tale-bearer, Gossip, with the chosen name Kedei, which literally means love—because I love telling tales. I’m a spirit, one of many roaming the universe. I’m spectral and can decide to be anywhere I please, AKA where an intriguing tale brews.
You must recall my former work, the interesting Inside Out: A Ridiculous Royal Tale—the stories about the monarchs of the Atam and Efik kingdoms and how their children unexpectedly found love.
Remember now? As I was saying…while I was able to meet up with my all-time crush, the spirit Trouble, and had a little TLC time with him, I wasn’t able to stop the niggling itch in my mind concerning the vintage ring Prince Onen of the Atam kingdom had given to Princess Nkoyo of the Efik kingdom on their engagement, a love match.
Maybe because I had heard Nkoyo’s thoughts as she experienced a weird phenomenon of feeling invisible threads weaving hers and Onen’s destinies together the instant he slid the ring on her finger.
Oh, one of the perks of being spectral is the beauty of reading thoughts and seeing the unseen. I’d been able to discern, though not clearly but I swear, another spectre swooping around the love birds the moment that ring snugged on Nkoyo’s finger.
It’d made no difference at the time until Nkoyo’s thoughts of threads weaving destinies together. That made me really look at her and the ring a second time… definitely a story here, one not so ridiculous.
So I began investigating, which meant disturbing higher spirits for the scoop on Nkoyo’s ring. And though I’ve been made to sound like a very annoying nuisance to higher spirits, I didn’t mind, for the things I heard led me to realize that Inside Out: A Ridiculous Royal Tale only felt ridiculous because I wasn’t aware of its foundation—of the prerequisite tale.
Let it be known it’s not just humans that plan for the future—the spirits do, too, which is how the ridiculous royal tale could have occurred in the first place.
Therefore, because Nkoyo had felt what I had barely seen, she also shared the niggling itch to find out about the history of the ring. Onen had explained she would wear the ring for as long as it took her first son to turn twenty, when she’d then relinquish the ring to him to be given to his wife-to-be.
An intriguing explanation—you must agree the tale behind it is worth telling.
This tale dates back to a time where man had still been in his wild state. Atam hadn’t been a kingdom but a collection of settlements, where the strongest took over the weakest, and it was survival of the fittest. Where deities reigned and the spirits were approachable and man hadn’t yet gleaned intellectual wisdom enough to readily reject the spirits’ prods…
…a time where true love was an inconceivable notion and man took everything as black and white, with no grey areas. A stark time, a difficult time, a diabolical time…
This is Pristine – a not so ridiculous tale.
Chapter One
It was an era where years, months, and dates as we know now made no difference to the inhabitants of this land which would later be known as Atam Kingdom.
War was on their minds. It made no difference that the language, though slightly different, was basically the same. How could it when the spirit of Greed reigned supreme over this era?
Greed in his tarty robes flew around cackling in glee as he suggested untoward ideas to gullible men, prodding and pushing them to collect the wealth of others diabolically or by force, which meant war.
Another such war was just ending. The little village looked forlorn and deserted in the aftermath of decimation. Smoke billowed up from burning huts and dry animal feed. The last warrior standing had decided to sacrifice himself to give the surviving villagers ample time to flee.
A sacrifice that might be useless if the villagers didn’t run fast enough. Even though his arm ached terribly, thoughts of saving the few villagers who had survived the massacre prodded his determination to raise his machete and block the killing blow from the Umor warrior, who had a ferocious sneer on his face and looked gleeful in his determination to kill.
The last warrior knew it was a useless effort, but he staunchly held off until one other Umor warrior skewered him with a spear from the back. The sharp edge broke through his chest; his eyes widened, and blood shot out from his mouth, drenching the fighter in front of him.
His last sight before life dimmed from his eyes were of the grinning warriors as they stood over him, contemplating if they should strike a finishing blow or let him wallow in his pain.
Death took him, but his eyes remained open and unseeing on the hundreds of other equally slaughtered bodies lying in the pool of their blood which mingled and made a crimson river.
A sickening stench surged through the air as bodies were burnt, but it didn’t bother the Umor warriors. Even the fleeing villagers weren’t a cause for concern, for they would get to them eventually on the next market day.
In the exhilaration of victory, they raided the store houses and proceeded to get drunk on fresh, sweet palm-wine and roasted bodies of the slain warriors. Yes, you read right: these people were cannibals in this era. They selected the most powerful warriors, especially the last to be killed one, to roast and be eaten. In this full celebration, they believed the essence of the dead warrior’s stamina would be transferred to them as they had conquered him and now relished his cooked flesh soaked in palm oil and pepper sauce.
They had conquered another village, and they would many others until they got to their main nemesis, a village called Yakpani, almost as big as Umor and a worthy contender in the war of amassing land.
It made no difference that the people in these lands had once lived together with them as family before they moved to create their own settlements.
Umor wanted to rule them all.
***
My spectral legs were dangling when Nkoyo woke with a petrified gasp from her horrible, reoccurring nightmare. As usual, nausea from the gory sights attacked her. Who wouldn’t be sick after so much blood, urrg! I’m a spirit, yet I gagged a little every night she described such horrors. I pitied Nkoyo as she repeatedly wondered what she’d done to
The princess couldn’t understand why she kept seeing wars and soldiers eating their slain contenders. Quite scary, indeed, especially as she’d never thought about such things or even read macabre books, nor watched such movies.
There was nothing I, Gossip, could do as the couple of months’ old situation bothered Nkoyo and her husband, the Crown Prince and heir of Atam kingdom. At the beginning, Nkoyo had thought it a rare case of typhoid and she’d treated herself accordingly, but it hadn’t stopped.
I wish I could tell them it wouldn’t stop as this was a spiritual matter. But then, they would ask for a solution, which I didn’t have. Besides, not like they could even see me.
Nkoyo rolled from the huge bed she shared with her ever-loving husband, Onen. Usually, she was so terrified, she woke him to stay with her while the jitters of fear subsided. However, today, the sight of his innocent face in deep sleep tugged at the strings of her heart.
Aww, I do love love. Additionally, I understood why she felt that way. After a full day of work at the mill, which had been expanded over the twenty months she’d been married to him, plus his kingdom responsibilities, Nkoyo surely wouldn’t have the heart to wake him. The man needed his full night’s rest and some.
Hurrying from the room, I floated behind her, just in time to witness her lower her head into the ceramic toilet bowl before vomit exploded from her mouth. She expelled what she’d had for dinner until she had nothing left in her stomach, yet, the heaves wouldn’t stop.
“Jesus Christ! Nk! Sweetheart!”
My spectral heart melted as Onen rushed in looking distraught. Usually, he was awake with her. Despite being so tired he hadn’t heard her wake, guilt suffused his heart, struggling for space with worry at the unknown problem bothering his wife.
Onen slammed to his knees beside her, his hand immediately rubbing her back in a circular motion. The stench of vomit or the sight didn’t bother him, but it troubled Nkoyo that he saw her this way. So, when she pushed him off slightly, he didn’t argue, and left to get her chilled water to calm her upset stomach.
I hung back and watched her flush her mess, brush her teeth, wash her face, and sit on the edge of their massive bed by the time her husband returned. Close to her, he could perceive the scent of mint from their toothpaste. He smiled through his worry, admiring how she was strong and unnecessarily independent sometimes. Onen understood she was still fighting to erase the image she’d created around herself, before she’d met him, a time she’d been regarded as a lazy, self-indulgent princess.
Hmm, I recalled how arrogant Nkoyo had been, so much that her parents, the monarchs of Efik kingdom, best friends with Onen’s parents, had conspired to send her over to Atam to be tamed. His sister, Wofai, had also had complex issues and had, in turn, been sent over to Nkoyo’s parents to be healed in kind. Oh, I’d loved telling that complication!
Everything had turned out good after all the drama that followed—like Wofai falling in love with Nkoyo’s fiancé. A long story, but I know Onen was glad his parents had made the ridiculous decision that had brought him the love of his life.
In the silence, his eyes didn’t leave her face until she finished the glass of chilled water. After, he gathered her into his arms and held her wholesome figure to him. Nkoyo’s head nestled on his massive, muscular chest, the thumps of his heart slowed from its worry and comforting her as it reverberated through her body, her own heart aligning and beating with his.
“You should have called me,” he whispered into her hair, and kissed her temple tenderly.
The love in that room, in any room these two were, was stifling. Yet, I wouldn’t be anywhere else in this moment.
“I didn’t want to disturb you,” she whispered back.
Onen pulled her face from his chest so they could really look at each other. He wanted her to see the sincerity in his eyes. “You could never disturb me, darling. I love you with every beat of my heart, and I want to share in this struggle with you. I want to help…I will help you,” he concluded determinedly.
Aww, dear God, the romance in this room proved too much.
It didn’t help that they’d decided to keep this strange phenomenon to themselves. I wonder why. However, thankfully, Onen thought it time to speak to his father about it. He thought the nightmares were obviously something from the past since his wife had described the soldiers as having nothing more on except loin cloths and weapons of machetes and spears.
Obviously, he couldn’t wrap his head around the cannibal part. Onen knew of the history of his people—of parts that had eaten human flesh as meat. Despite getting rumours of such a thing happening in recent times, his father, the king, had done some investigations with no success. Those must be things that had occurred centuries ago.
Yet, none of us could explain why his wife was having nightmares about eras past.
Back to the romance.
Nkoyo’s eyes softened at the love shining from her husband’s gaze, and she didn’t miss the determined glint either. She had reached her wits’ end, and she wouldn’t argue over whatever method he deemed fit to help her.
“Besides, if I had waited to wake you, I would have expelled everything on the bed,” she joked, her palm cupping his cheek. She loved the feel of his one-day-old beard scratching her palm softly.
I would love that, too, if Trouble—my crush—bothered to keep a beard. Cue eyeroll.
Onen chuckled and drew her close, settling his lips on hers and convincing himself she was okay. Her fingers grazed his naked chest and went round his neck, effectively aligning her lace-covered bosom on the expanse of his chest as they embraced passionately.
His arm rounded her silk-covered waist and drew her closer, a groan of pleasure slipping. But then, he recalled she’d woken from a nightmare, and he had to hear what she’d dreamt this time.
Thank God, my eyes rolling again. I needed to hear, too, even though I knew the general idea of it; I needed specifics. Daily, I catalogued her nightmares, making sure to check for any changes.
Slowing the kiss to pecks around her face, he settled her in his arms as they lay side by side, facing each other, but without much space between them. His semi erection brushed her stomach, but he ignored it, concern for her taking precedence over his base desires.
Onen was sometimes shocked at the purely innocent things that could spark passion between them. He felt lucky and blessed to have found his soul mate, the one he would love forever and had to protect from whatever disturbed her. When she hurt, he hurt right along, and he wouldn’t survive if something were to happen to her.
With a little breezy nudge, I helped him squash the morbid thought as he smoothed tendrils of hair from Nkoyo’s face.
“Same dream?”
“Yes.” She shivered in what could only be described as fear spasms upon recalling the gruesome images.
I sighed wearily, wondering what the plans of the spirits were if they were only giving Nkoyo the same recurring nightmare. That was just boring. Would I have to visit the spirit of Dream to get a heads up on what came next on this story? I grimaced—I’d been banned from Dream’s floaty abode. Urrg! I was stuck getting this tale the hard way.
Stuck with these lovebirds for the foreseeable future.
“I’m here with you, Nk, nothing can hurt you. We will figure this out together,” he assured while gathering her closer in a bid to protect her from even the spasms of fear.
I nodded at Onen’s assurance because, truly, we’d be figuring this tale out together.
Nkoyo nodded, wrapping her arms around him and holding tight for dear life. Even though the situation was unknown, and therefore solutions might be impossible, she still believed her super husband. If anything could solve her issues, he would go to the ends of the earth to find it.
