King Tunji the tyrant, and Kola's guard code of honor...chapter five [Finale]

Kola and his men rode their horses like mad men making the earth tremble with every step from the hooves of their horses. Kola knew his fate was sealed, but he had faith that if he pleaded with the King, he will spare his life and allow him go on exile instead. Their earlier three hours journey was completed in lesser time, as they rode with excitement in their eyes.

"Where are the guards?" Kola asked, slowing their pace on their arrival at the main gate. The main gate had been deserted, left unguarded and wide open, it was usually guarded by four men nearly as strong as Kola's own men, at that time of the day.

"My Lord, this is very unusual", Bola said, stating the obvious.

"Let's take a look inside" Kola ordered, going inside the premises with his horse before his men.

On entering the premises, the odour of death and blood filled the atmosphere as flies flew around perching on the dead bodies that laid in front of their eyes. Bola raised his arm and in response, a lower ranked warrior went to examine the body.

He returned and then said, "These are the guards that are usually stationed at the gate".

"What about the other two?", Kola asked.

"They seem to be of the Iha Iwo-ooruns", the man answered.

Confusion came upon Kola's face as he had thought they had gone with their new chief. Instinctively he began to ride towards the direction of the palace, through the King's farmland that had been cultivated by his slaves, now covered in blood and bodies.

"What is all this nonsense?" Kola asked himself, with his men following him behind sharing in his own rage and fear.

On arriving at the palace, they dismounted their horses and began to make their way in. King Tunji sat on the floor with his back facing them, and bodies all over the place.

"My King", Kola greeted bowing his head and then moving forward to see if the King was alright. He placed his palm on the King's shoulder, and got a reaction that he never expected. The king moved away quickly in fear from his touch, shocking Kola temporarily, but what the King revealed from his movement shocked him even more. On the feet of the King's throne were the amputated arms of the King holding the Queen, Simisola's head, on the throne were the King's eyes and ears and behind the throne was Damilola's body covered in blood and naked. Kola seeing this, rushed to the body, tore apart the clothing materials used for decorations of the palace, placing them over her body. With his two fingers he closed the wide opened eyes of his dead wife, and then turned to the King with rage filling his eyes.

"What have you done?", Kola yelled with authority stepping down from the throne.

"I told her to stop...but she...she.. she wouldn't listen... It's all her fault... I... No...we were all pawns... Hahahaha!!!" he said with wide grin on his face laughing like a mad man.

Kola grew impatient and drew his machete from its sheet with the intent to kill, he dove for revenge, but was held back by Bola who had known what was to happen next.

"My Lord, don't do this" Bola said, struggling to hold his grip. Kola would hear nothing of it, instead he threw Bola away like paper, but before he could advance any further, the rest of his men had pounced on him.

"Leave me alone, let me kill this idiot!" Kola yelled, tears running down his cheek as his movements were suppressed, the man who killed his wife sat there laughing and couldn't receive the deafening waves of his Justice.

The people and the Chiefs who had not been killed by King Tunji or by the drought and famine began to troop into the palace to bear witness to what had occurred.

"Let it be known today in our history, let this story be told to our generations to come, the tales of our liberation by the Iha Iwo-ooruns and their champion maiden, Damilola, wife to the Commander of the royal guards. She may have performed a sacrilege, but she saved our people from greater deaths. Let the tales of her courage and sacrifice be forever heard and known", the eldest Chief said, and as if the ancestors had agreed with him, rain began to drop, one droplet at a time.

"Damilola, our heroine, the Ijamba of Iha Iwo-oorun!!!" the people began to praise her name, jumping in high spirit and hope.