It was a blade that kissed her ribs—a shallow cut, but a deadly warning. Kemi staggered backward, gripping her spear as beads of sweat dripped into her sharp, dark eyes. Amid the towering baobabs of the Dahomey forest, morning light fractured through the canopy, casting splinters of gold over the battleground. The warriors were like shadows dancing between the sunbeams, swift and ghostly, their crimson waist wraps swaying as they clashed with brutal precision. Screams and war cries seemed to rise in rhythm with the metallic clangor of weapons, the scent of earth, iron, and blood thick in the air.
Kemi adjusted her footing on the loamy forest floor, her bare feet gripping the earth. She remained balanced, poised, though the pain in her side burned like a coal pressed under her skin. Her combat leotard—a stark wrap of deep indigo marked with geometric chalk patterns along her limbs—clung to her agile yet muscular frame. Her hair, braided tightly into rows and adorned with cowrie shells, sparkled faintly in the fractured light. Her opponent lunged again—an Amazon of rival allegiance—her own spear a blur of movement.
Kemi sidestepped, spinning with a fluidity that spoke of decades of training despite her mere twenty-five harvests. In that moment, she had the presence of mind to reflect bitterly on the prophecy. Victory had been foretold, hadn’t it? Or perhaps the village diviner had sold her clan another fabrication to stir their hopes. These thoughts, though fleeting, hung heavy as Kemi swiftly repositioned to meet the rival warrior's next strike.
A Betrayal Buried in the Sand
She hadn’t asked for this war. None of them had. Their kingdom, the Empire of Dahomey, stood as one of the most formidable and feared in the West African plateaus. The Amazons were their shield—women warriors trained in the sacred arts of war since they could wield their first blade. Kemi had risen among their ranks through merit, her body carved by battle and tempered by loss. But this conflict—this betrayal—was no enemy from the north or the east. This war was born of alliances shattered. Another clan of Amazons had chosen to side with a Portuguese slaving expedition, selling soil-deep loyalty to foreign gold.
She had been the one to first sound the alarm, storming into Queen Agontime’s court that night with news of collusion. It hadn’t been mere conjecture; she had seen the pale-skinned raiders on the coasts, their ships scaled like serpents, their eyes hungry as hyenas. She had felt the sand beneath her knees as she followed the rival warriors’ treacherous patrols. Yet here she was, surrounded by their cloaked blades.
A sharp bark of laughter snapped her to the present. Her opponent, a tall woman wearing an ankle-length wrap dyed scarlet, smirked with bloodlust. She swung her weapon in a high arc, taunting Kemi like a cat teasing prey.
The Cost of Defiance
Kemi could see Queen Agontime’s proud face in her mind—the soft wrinkles along her mouth balanced by the iron in her gaze. “You do not fight to live,” the queen had told her and the other warriors. “You fight because you must. If betrayal should cut Dahomey from within, you become the dagger aimed outward.” That was four nights ago, among the tribal drums and the heat of the sacred flames. Kemi had pledged her loyalty to the throne, and no river of blood would drown it.
With a snarl, she angled her spear sharply to the forest floor. Shocking her foe, she moved so low she nearly glided over the earth. Kemi slid beneath the woman’s strike, spinning to drive the butt of her spear into the back of her opponent’s knee. The warrior collapsed with a strangled cry. Kemi seized the moment and rammed her weapon’s sharpened end into her enemy’s thigh—a disabling strike, not a killing blow.
"You betrayed us!” Kemi hissed, her voice raw with fury. "For bags of silver?" She loomed over her fallen foe, her muscles taut with rage, yet restrained. Behind her, the skirmish raged on, the clash of tribes echoing through the dense forest.
The Fire Rises
Her opponent laughed, a laugh born of desperation and pride bleeding together. “The world is bigger than Dahomey, girl.” She coughed, lips curling darkly. “You cannot stop it. You think we betrayed you?” The woman’s voice grew hoarse. “We are merely the first. Others will kneel willingly. Dahomey cannot hold the tide.”
Kemi didn’t hesitate this time. A quick, clean thrust of her spear ended the insult, her breathing ragged as she wrestled with the truth of her enemy’s words. Was it true? Would Dahomey’s strength falter when faced with the metal beasts of Europe? No. She silenced that doubt like she had silenced the traitor.
Kemi straightened, looking up toward the fractured canopy, where sunlight burned through storm clouds gathering in bruised gray waves. There wasn’t time for despair. She was born for battle, not for defeat. Her tribe, her family, their legacy—it would endure, even if she herself was turned into little more than ash scattered among the wind-stirred forest leaves.
Epilogue
As the skirmish waned and her surviving sisters regrouped, Kemi tightened the trailing wrap of indigo across her hips. Her spear, bloodied but reliable, rested in her hands like an extension of her body. She swept her braided hair from her face, cowrie shells clicking softly. The Dahomey forest no longer smelled of fresh loam but acrid sweat and charred betrayal.
“Forward,” she commanded her sisters, her voice soft but edged with steel. It was not grief but determination. “We march until the sun drowns. This isn’t rebellion. This isn’t defeat. It’s the spark of something bigger.” If fortune favored them, the queen herself would light the war pyres when they returned victoriously.
As the Amazon warriors marched deeper into the forest, Kemi led them, crimson streaked across her spear and her body. She silently vowed to carve her name into Dahomey’s vast history—a warrior who refused to bow to fate, even if the future’s blade lingered always too close to her side.
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled.
The Source...check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: Can Mar-a-Lago Address the Leadership Crisis in Europe
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