The Prince Must Die

The greatest evil of all evils  are not the one we see, but the ones that lay in our hearts, invisible to others  — Anonymous

    The door rams open as two guards bang inside, jolting me from the nightmare I was having. My heart pounds, chest heaving as I stare at them, eyes ache at how they were able to open the door when I remembered I locked it last night before I went to sleep.

     “What is it?”

     “My prince, you’re—”

     “Do we need to call him a  prince after the sacrilege he committed?” The second guard  in a black polo shirt and jeans, interrupts,  lips curled, nose wrinkled. He stares at me, unflinching.

     The question deepens my confusion and curiosity as I wonder how I commit a sacrilegious crime when I’m just waking up from sleep. I grunt as my head thumps on the floor, my lips kissing the marble-tiled floor of my room. 

      “What’s the meaning of—” they nudge me forward before I can complete my sentence.

I ball my fists as I stand, throwing them a murderous glare. “Since you have no respect for your prince. Two of you are going to receive punishment.” My mind is running amok with different kinds of punishment on how I will treat their insolence. Such audacity!

     The second guard rolls his eyes, extending his hand forward, “The king awaits you. Let’s see who’s gonna receive one.”

     I sneer and scuttle to the throne room, greeting me is an enormous sight—nearly all villagers, including the elders, were present in the large throne room—which makes me dazzled. Murmur drones the air as they sniff my presence. Eyes comb through me as I make my way to the middle.

     “Greetings father.” I bow and expect a smile on my father’s face whenever he sees me.

Instead, his eyes spark into a frown, lips pressed tight into a grimace. 

I glance at my step-brothers and their mothers; none of them is smiling.

     When I gaze at my mother, my heart sinks into despair as tears slide down her cheek.

     “Victor, did you do it?” My father’s baritone voice pierces through my thoughts as I stare at him, eyes furrowed.

     “Did what?” I can’t help but ask. What did I do? When did I do whatever they’re leveling against me?

     “He’s feigning ignorance so he won’t be punished!” whispers fly, distilling the stillness of the room when I had walked in. Why will I feign ignorance of what I don’t know?

The king lifts his hand and the room becomes as silent as the graveyard.

     “I will ask you again, Victor, did you do it?” The change in tone of my father’s voice tells me he’s serious but I don’t know what they’re talking about. My father calling me by my first name instead of my native name Ugonna tells me that whatever sacrilegious act they thought I did must be deadly.

     “I suggest someone tells me what I do to warrant nearly all the villagers here,” I say. My father waves his hand and a servant in a purple gown steps forward. It’s not just a servant but the maid assigned to be cleaning my room every morning. She bows at both the king and I, limbs shaking and her eyes glued on the floor.

     “Speak this minute!” I snap,  mad, for being lured out from sleep and shoved down here to answer the unknown.

     “When I went to the prince. . . Ugonna’s room this morning. His door was unlocked. . . so I thought he might be awake, I entered and discovered he wasn’t but what I saw sent fright down to the sole of my feet, I feel goosebumps engulf me.” 

     Whatever this maid saw must be terrifying for her to be trembling like a leaf in the wind. Her pause gets me angry and I want to snap at her to continue.

     “I saw the king of the snake, not just king but the messenger of the earth goddess Ani, dead on the floor beside the prince’s bedside, head detached from its body with a cutlass lying on top of the reptile.” gasps ring out the moment the servant scuttles out.

 I freeze, jaw slacked as I stare without blinking. Time seems to have stopped or maybe it’s just my imagination. I want to speak but words refuse to form as it seems my voice has deserted me. My mouth stays ajar for so long.  I could hear my mother’s sob and I couldn’t muster up the courage to glance in her direction.

     “Did you do it?” My father’s voice brings things back to normalcy and I shake my head in disagreement.

     “I can’t do such a thing. I didn’t kill any cobra!”My voice comes out louder than I intended.

     “Lair. Are you saying the maid is lying?” A female voice rings out amidst the ton of voices speaking. 

     My first stepmother scurries out, her eyes bored into mine, infusing the hatred I always feel its surface, always knowing she has for me. She loathes my existence.

     Her son, my stepbrother, is denied heir due to his poor academic background and he doesn’t care about the throne at all, which automatically became mine. She turns toward my father, a mischievous glint on her expression.

     “As the tradition demands, anyone caught for killing the messenger of the earth goddess will be stone dead. I hope you don’t—”

     “Don’t tell me my duty, woman,” The king says. How my father can keep a calm temperament astound me as I wonder what may be running through his mind. Does he believe me? Have I failed him as the heir to the throne?

     The thought of being stone dead makes my heart pounds, my pulse racing. “Father, I didn’t do it. You’ve to believe me!”I go on my knees, my hands clasping together.

     “Shut up! You stupid son of a goofy. Do you think you can save yourself this time? Even your mother won’t be either.”

     I ignore her and dart to my mother. “You have to believe me, mother.”

     The next action of the woman that bore me amazes me. She slaps and shoves me away from her with much force applied. “Don’t ever come near me, you useless son.”

     I thump on the floor, holding my cheek. Shock waves surge through me as I blink the tears moistening my cheek. Laughter rings out as murmuring rises.

I stare at the woman who made sure I had a strong academic prowess; the woman who made sure that the throne became mine against my will even when I always reminded her there was a son before me. She always hushed and scolded me for having such a thought, that the throne belonged to me right from birth. Is this the woman that gave birth to me or an acting mother? Where is my caring mother that raised me to this stage?

     “Guards! Take Victor to the dungeon and torture him for three days until he admits he did it.”

The cold voice of my father sends shivers crawling all over me as guards hijack me and lead me away. 

     “I didn’t do it. Believe me please!” I yell before my body leaves the throne room.

                        ***

     I stagger forward and whine whenever the guards’ hands come in contact with my skin, full of bruises and cuts. It has been three days of hell, of starving and torture. Admitting I did or not will not change the punishment. There’s no need to confess I do. 

     I limp my way to the palace’s front yard, youths larger than the villagers. The guards shove me to face my parents and family. I glue my eyes on the floor due to how embarrassing it is for them to be gazing at my disfigured face.

     “People of the Ụmụneke kingdom, as the tradition of our land. The prince must die!” screams of yes echo in agreement.

     “Any last word?” My first stepmother mumbles, mockery in her voice. A look of triumph embedded in her expression.

     I cough blood.  “Anyway, I’m going to die. I believe… my death…will open…each of your eyes that this… tradition is barbaric… and have to be abolished.”I cough more blood, my strength leaving me, the more I try to speak. “Can I see… the snake… before I die!” 

     The king nods as they bring out the cobra, placed inside a coffin. My eyes go wide when I see the coffin capable of suiting a human’s body.

      “What!”

     “The kingdom will be in disaster if we don’t cleanse the land of such sacrilegious crime you committed and perform the rite of burying the snake the same way humans are buried.” The king seems to understand my confusion. 

     Oh, God! Was this the tradition I was trained to follow?

     “Father, I thought you wanted your kingdom to be civilized by the next king and… even went as far as sending one of your sons to the white man land to… learn their way. Why is this barbaric tradition still on?” I ask, wanting to know.

     “Shut up! The tradition had been in existence before your great-great grandfather’s parents were born,” My first stepmother barks, baring her teeth at me. I sigh and give up, awaiting death.

     “Take him away to the outskirts of the kingdom and stone him there.”My father gives his verdict and begins to leave.

     “Father, you can’t do this to me!”I say, crying. I try to wriggle free from the boys holding me but I can’t due to my weakened state.

     “I have  something to say!”A voice yells, halting everyone. Scurrying forward is my mother’s maid and she kneels before my parents, head bowing.

     “What is this?”The king asks.

     “Prince Ugonna is. . .innocent of the charge. I was ordered by his mother to put the snake. . .in his room before everyone will be awake with the spare key she gave me—”

     “How dare you frame me up!”My mother snaps, ready to lunch herself at the maid but the guards were fast to restrain her. 

     “Continue,” My father says. My body has been convulsing with shock as my mouth drops open.

     “If you think I’m lying, you can ask the guard that killed the snake. Before the plotting took place, the second queen revealed to me on one occasion that she wasn’t the mother of prince Ugonna. She swap her baby with  that of the first queen’s at the same hospital both gave birth—”

     “Wait, Emeka and I were born the same day?”I ask.

     “Yes, but not at the same minute,” The maid replies, eyes still glued to the floor, trembling. “According to her, a nurse helped her achieve her desire and the reason for this was that she wanted her real son to have the throne after she had eliminated prince Ugonna and will reveal the truth using a cunning way. Please forgive me for withholding the truth for so long; I couldn’t sleep with a guilty conscience so I have to let the cat  out of the bag.”

     “It’s a lie! She’s lying!” The woman I called my mother all my life isn’t my mother after all. 

     I flinch at someone else’s palms cup my chin. I look up to discover it’s the first queen, my real mother with tears sliding down in a torrent.

The hatred, resentment, and loathing I always saw on her expression have diffused into something warm, welcoming, and affectionate. “My child.”

     I stagger back away from her. It will be hard for me to forgive her due to all these years of loathing, hating me for no reason.

    “Guards! Take the queen, the maid to the dungeon and fish out the guard that committed such a sacrilegious crime before he leaves this palace.” My father’s voice wafts around us. Evil is evil. Visible or not. It will take some time for me ro heal from it.

ABOUT

Ikechukwu Henry is an ardent reader of fiction, he is fiction writer, and a myth enthusiast. His works has appeared/forthcoming in Kalahari Review, Trash to treasure, swim press, Icreative Review and others. He won the first runner up in RoNovella Writing contest first edition and awarded at Tenacious Writer’s Award 2022 for fiction and nonfiction. You can connect with him on Twitter @Ikechukwuhenry_