Kumah slowly opened his eyes. He squinted as the sunlight hit his eyes through the holes in the ceiling of the hut. He waited for his surroundings to come into focus and sat on the bed he laid on. He groaned at a slight headache and placed his hand on his head. It was bandaged and so was his chest. He looked around the room. There was an empty bed next to him followed by a little girl who laid on the bed next to the empty one. She looked very sick. Little drops of sweat rested on her forehead and her breathing was heavy, like every breath she took was a titanic effort to draw in oxygen. To her side were small pots filled with herbs and water. A familiar figure walked in, it was the girl from before, Amahle. She carried a pot of water on her head holding it steady with her right hand and a basket of fresh herbs in her left hand. Kumah couldn’t recall such herbs growing in this region. She gave Kumah a disapproving look, like he should be resting and not be awake by now. Dropping the basket next to a table, she slowly lowered the pot of water from her head with a slight bend. She let out a sigh of relief. She was tired.

‘’You’re awake.’’ She said still bent, looking at her reflection in the water.

‘’Well I don’t sleep with my eyes open but yes, I am.’’

Cocky, she thought to herself. Besides he has always been since they were children. She recognized Kumah from back in the days when the Ashanti clan thrived.

She straightened up and brushed strands of her white her off her face to the back of her ear. She wore a white skirt and a white cloth which was tied around her chest, covering her breasts. Kumah had keen eyes; he noticed the scar on her left cheek. Her eyes where bright blue and beautiful, for a second, Kumah got lost in them. She had the body of a well-trained warrior. Her beauty was rare. He scanned her slowly from top to bottom.

‘’Are you done taking all in?’’ she snapped placing one hand on her waist.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ Blushed Kumah

‘’A lot of men look at me that way. I’m used to it.’’ She said

She picked up a bowl filled with water from the table and walked towards Kumah.

‘’Could you lie down for me?’’ she asked sitting down next to him.

He nodded, laying down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She carefully removed the bandage of his chest and begun to clean the wound. It was healing fine. She noticed his body was marked with scars. His skin and muscles looked like they had been through a lot. Could it be him? She thought to herself. His striking resemblance to the Great King Osei Tutu was undeniable. Then again after the Ashanti clan was eliminated a lot of people appeared from nowhere claiming to be an Ashanti. They did it for obvious reasons. Attention. Most of the time it didn’t end well for them.

‘’What happened to you?’’ she asked tapping the dried blood of his skin with a wet cloth.

‘’Westerns.’’ He said bluntly.

A wave of silence filled the room for a while and the little turned uncomfortably in her bed.

“You don’t have a clan crest.’’ She said washing the stained cloth in the bowl of water. Kumah knew where this conversation was headed. If his identity gets revealed it could cause problems. The Al-Kida are already after him. If only he could speak with Shaka, the king of the Zulu clan. He’d be able to solve Kumah’s little mess.

She waited for his reply but Kumah just stayed silent. ‘’Are you a renegade?’’ she persisted. Still silence. A look of irritation crawled up her face. She picked up the bowl and got off the bed. She walked back to the table and placed the bowl back on the table.

‘’You know if you’re not ready to talk, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’’ She said ‘’Besides if my father finds out a stranger is here he’s going to kill you.

Kumah sat up once again. ‘’Typical of the Zulus to resort to violence but thanks for patching me up.’’

Amahle rolled her eyes. ‘’So what will it be, Kumah’’ she said Great, she already knew his name. Kumah had nowhere to go and he’d barely survived the last six years on the run.

He sighed, loudly. ‘’Look, I don’t have anywhere to go so I’d appreciate if you do not ask me to leave.’’

Amahle raised an eyebrow. ‘’Would you rather my father asked you to leave.’’

‘’No need to call the big guy. I’m sure you and I could work something out.’’ Kumah said trying to sound confident.

‘’How do I know you’re not using some kind of shapeshifting vessel or magic.’’ She snapped.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the hut. Kumah stared at her for a moment. She was obviously expecting him to say something and there was no way he could prove that he wasn’t a shape shifter.

 ‘’Let me let you in on a little secret. My name’s Kumah and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m the prince of the fallen tribe of Ashanti.’’

She broke in to siren of laughter.  She wanted to believe him but it was a long shot.  A part of her wanted that to be true but her other side thought it could be just another sham.

‘’You? A prince? I took you seriously there for a second but now you’re just being silly. I’ve met the real prince of The Ashanti, may his soul rest in peace. And you’re not him.’’

Kumah didn’t expect that to work but it was worth a try.

‘’When was the last time you saw the prince?’’ he asked

She looked up to the ceiling and placed a finger on her lip. ‘’Hmm, that was a long time ago at the…’’

‘’The Union Festival.’’ They said in unison.

She was surprised and stared at Kumah with a smile. The look on Kumah’s face was an encouraged one, she didn’t want him to get comfortable so soon.

‘’I still don’t believe you.’’ She said getting off the table.

‘’Wait, you can’t be serious? You’re doing this on purpose aren’t you?’’ he snapped.

‘’Well I am enjoying it just a little bit.’’ She gestured with her thumb and index finger close together. ‘’I do remember the union festival though. Back when the three clans were united. It was breath taking. The dancing, the food, the games.’’

She let out a satisfying sigh as if just picturing the festival was enough to take all her worries away.

‘’You forgot the masqueraders.’’ Said Kumah. ‘’Are you still scared of them? I mean we were young back then but you do know they were just people wearing masks, right?’’

Amahle’s smile disappeared and she looked pale. Visions of the masqueraders flooded her mind which sent a chill down her spine. Why would people dress up like animals in the first place? We have them around all the time. Imagine your goat seeing you dress up as a goat, a bigger goat. And do the animals feel insulted because they are poorly represented by those masks? The mere thought of those masqueraders sickened her.

She gave Kumah a threatening look. ‘’You’re in my head.’’ She said

‘’Uhm, no I’m not. I was there when all those things happened.’’ He said

Amahle sat back on the table.

‘’Look Kumah, if that’s your real name. A lot of people have surfaced claiming to be the prince or the late King Osei Tutu. And some have pulled some impressive stunts to be honest. And by far yours is the best, I mean wow you really look like the late King Osei-Tutu and you seem to have done your research but I’m still not convinced. You’ll have to face our protocols, sadly.’’ she said.

Kumah knew the Zulus were ruthless and their protocols could not mean anything good. A lot of things might have changed during the past six years but there’s one thing that would never change. Zulu protocols always involved something physical.

‘’What protocol?’’ he said, his voice shaking slightly.

‘’Good talk Kumah, I’m afraid I have some work to attend to so I need you to stay put for me ok.’’

‘’Wait, what protocol. What are you going to do to me!!?’’ Kumah raised his voice.

‘’Kumah, stay put. I’m not asking.’’ She warned. Her eyes begun to glow green.

Kumah felt a wave of nausea pass over him. His strength begun to fade. He tried to stand up but fell to his knees.

The satisfying smile on Amahle’s face begun to fade, then it was total darkness