The very next day, Senzangakhona couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread. Though he hadn't wanted to think it, but the thought consumed him: "I think I'm dying."
He started feeling sick the moment he woke up, and the weight of his illness was evident. That morning, he weakly thought of his concern, only to remember- too late- that Mbali could hear his thoughts.
She immediately sprang into action, determined to diagnose the root of his condition. Her frantic efforts and worried demeanor didn't go unnoticed, but Senzangakhona's state rendered him nearly silent, preventing most of the homestead from realizing the gravity of the situation.
However, the silence broke when Mbali, in her panic, announced that the prince's condition had worsened.
Her declaration sent shockwaves through the royal homestead. Though his illness had been kept a secret to avoid causing alarm, the prince's pallor, ashen lips, and listless body made it impossible to hide.
Prince Jama, realizing the situation was dire, immediately summoned the royal sangoma, Kanya, who arrived swiftly to examine the prince.
The sangoma began her work, carefully inspecting Senzangakhona while the homestead buzzed with tension. The royal family watched anxiously, the princess consort unable to hide her worry as she held her son. She refused to allowing even her husband to hold him.
Despite Prince Jama's best efforts to maintain control, whispers spread like wildfire, turning the homestead into a state of chaos.
Kanya, after her initial examination, knelt and cast her bones onto the grass woven mat. The ritual silence was broken by a guttural cry that made everyone in the room freeze. She turned sharply and demanded, "Who takes care of this child?"
All eyes fell on Mbali.
The young woman stepped back, startled, as Kanya fixed her with an intense glare. Her voice, unusually stern, rang out: "What did you do to this child?"
Mbali stammered, her fear evident. "I-I did nothing! I swear! I just found the prince sick—I would never harm him!"
Prince Jama's voice boomed, cutting through the air. "Tell us the truth, Mbali. What have you done?"
Mbali looked helplessly around the room, her voice quaking. "I followed the instructions I was given! I gave him the medicine three times a day, before meals and before he slept, just as I was told!"
Kanya's eyes narrowed. "Medicine?" Her voice was laced with suspicion. "This child has poison in his system. What medicine did you give him?"
Mbali froze, her face pale. "The medicine… the one I was told to give. I swear, it was the same as always."
The room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the princess consort's anguished cry. She swiftly gave Senzangakhona to his father, who froze for a few moments with baby in hand. Rage contorted princess consort Mthaniya's face as she then lunged toward Mbali, only to be held back by a servant. "You poisoned my son! I'll kill you!" she screamed, her grief erupting into fury.
The outburst snapped Prince Jama out of his shock.
"Calm down, my love," He said to his wife, his voice strained. "We will get to the bottom of this."
Turning to Bhekisisa, the captain of the guard, he ordered, "Take Mbali to the dungeon. Post guards to ensure she doesn't harm herself or escape. No one touches her until I say otherwise."
Bhekisisa bowed. "As you wish, my prince." He grabbed Mbali's arm roughly, dragging her from the hut as she protested her innocence. "Please, I didn't do anything! I swear!" But her cries fell on deaf ears as the guards led her away.
Prince Jama turned back to Kanya, his expression grim. "Tell me, Gogo, what must be done? Can my son be saved?"
Kanya hesitated, her face heavy with sorrow. "This poison… it is beyond my power to fully cure. I can create a medicine to ease his suffering, to extend his life for a time, but…" She trailed off, her voice breaking. "He will not see his first birthday."
The princess consort collapsed to the ground, her sobs filling the room. Prince Jama clenched his fists, struggling to contain his own grief. His voice was a whisper as he said, "Thank you, Kanya. Do what you can."
As Kanya began preparing her remedies. Prince Jama, with Senzangakhona in his arms, knelt beside his wife and pulled her into an embrace. Together, they wept for the son they could not save.
...
An hour later, inside the Prince's council hut, the members of his council were deep in heated debate. Masango, one of the elders, sat silently, his face etched with grief. "Today is a sad day," he muttered. "A truly sad day." The weight of the news—that the heir to the Zulu throne would not live to see his first birthday—left him numb. He did not know how to process such a tragedy, and his somber demeanor was shared by most of the council members.
But not all,
as Kaya, scoffed. "Well, this solves one problem, doesn't it? Now we know who the true heir should be."
The words ignited a fire in Masango, who clenched his fists. Overwhelmed by rage, he rose and struck Kaya hard across the jaw with a resounding slap. Kaya staggered, stunned, and instinctively prepared to retaliate when a thunderous voice cut through the room.
"Enough!"
The Crown Prince of Zulu, Prince Jama kaNdaba, entered the hut. His presence alone silenced the chaos, and his voice, hoarse with exhaustion, carried an air of finality. "I have just spent an hour pacifying my wife, trying to comfort her as she comes to terms with losing her only son. To the point that I had to separate her from him just to try and get his condition out of her mind. Meanwhile, you fools fight like children, instead of doing your jobs and finding solutions!"
Kaya, still nursing his bruised jaw, tried to defend himself. "But, Prince, it was Masango who struck me! I—"
"I don't care who started it," Jama interrupted sharply. "I am ending it."
Normally, the prince's word would have been enough to end any argument, but today was different. Kaya, emboldened by anger and frustration, refused to back down. "So I'm just supposed to stand here and take it? Let him hit me and do nothing? How can I call myself a Zulu if I don't defend my honor?"
"You will not raise a hand in retaliation," Jama commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
At that moment, the guards entered, led by Bhekisisa, the captain of the guard. "My prince, I heard a commotion. Are you all right?"
Jama pointed at Kaya. "Escort him out of my hut. Now."
Kaya hesitated but quickly realized the gravity of the situation. He bowed his head and allowed himself to be led out without resistance. Once Kaya was gone, Jama turned back to the rest of the council, his piercing gaze sweeping over them. "Now that we're done with that nonsense," he said, his voice low but firm, "does anyone have a way to save my son?"
The room fell into an uneasy silence. The council members avoided his gaze, shocked by the uncharacteristic harshness of their prince. Jama rarely expelled anyone from his hut, and his actions only underscored the severity of the moment.
Finally, one of the elders cleared his throat and spoke. "My prince, once a sangoma has given their diagnosis, it is considered final. What Gogo Kanya has said… cannot be undone."
Jama's jaw tightened. "I refuse to accept that," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "There must be a way."
Another council member hesitated before suggesting, "Perhaps… we could perform a ritual to appease the ancestors. It might protect the child."
"It's a fine idea," another elder replied, "but rituals take time, time we may not have."
The debate continued, with ideas proposed and dismissed, frustration mounting in the room. Finally, Masango spoke again. "Perhaps we should wait for the other sangomas to arrive tomorrow. Maybe they'll have a solution Gogo Kanya does not. It's not much, but it's something."
The suggestion hung in the air. Jama, though visibly weary, nodded slowly. "It's better than nothing," he said, his voice heavy with resignation.
He stood and addressed the council one last time. "I don't care what it takes. Find a way to save my son." His tone was no longer that of a prince commanding his advisors. It was the plea of a father desperate to protect his child. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of his words sinking into the hearts of those present.
As the council dispersed to carry out his orders, Jama remained behind, his shoulders sagging under the immense burden. For the first time in his life, he felt powerless.
"How is this even possible? Is this some sick joke the Ancestors are playing on me?"
...
Late at night, in Kanya's hut, she was busy preparing a medicine she had promised to deliver to the prince. The air was thick with the scent of medicinal herbs. While focused on her work, Kanya noticed a cold drink nearby beginning to spoil. She suddenly heard her name called.
"Gogo Kanya," came a familiar voice.
Kanya quickly tidied her workspace, arranging her herbs and tools to make everything look neat. Then she called out, "Come in."
A woman entered, dressed plainly. Her attire consisted of a long hide skirt and a cloth covering her chest—the typical attire of a married woman in Nguni society. Despite her modest clothing, Kanya immediately recognized her.
"Praise, praise be to the Mother Chieftess!" Kanya exclaimed, smiling as she greeted the woman with reverence.
The visitor waved her hand dismissively, brushing aside Kanya's praise as she sat down without waiting for an invitation. Her movements were confident, even bold, as she began to speak without the customary gestures of respect.
"I heard there was a commotion at the royal kraal," the woman said bluntly. "Was it your doing?"
Kanya chuckled, her tone sly. "Who is asking? The wife of the future cheif or my employer?"
The woman frowned, her voice sharpening. "Don't push it, Kanya. But I must admit, I approve of your work. You've done well for your employer."
Kanya smirked, her laugh low and knowing. "Of course. A woman of my skill always delivers."
The woman leaned closer, her expression darkening slightly. "But tell me, are the rumors true? Will that b#tch's spawn not live to see his first birthday?"
Kanya's eyes gleamed as she chuckled under her breath. Looking around as if to ensure no one else was listening, she replied confidently, "If he doesn't see his first birthday, I will sell all my possessions and work for you indefinitely."
The boldness of her statement startled the woman. Such a promise was unheard of—no sangoma would ever agree to serve someone indefinitely, let alone for free.
"You're that confident?" the woman asked.
Kanya nodded, her voice unwavering. "Of course. How can I not be confident? I've ensured everything is in place. As long as they keep giving Senzangakhona his medicine by the end of next week, he'll not survive. And better yet i already have someone who will take the blame if we are discovered. "
The woman's lips curled into a smile. "Good. Do your part, and I'll fulfill mine."
Kanya leaned forward, her tone turning sharp. "Mother Cheiftess..." she said sarcastically, "...just because I praise you and give you a title that isn't yours doesn't mean you can barge into my home at night and demand answers. Tonight, I'll let it slide. But next time..."
Her voice deepened unnaturally, as if another presence had taken over. "I will make you regret the day you were born."
The woman met her gaze without flinching, a smirk playing on her lips. "You can try. Just know that you're not the only sangoma I own."
The tension hung thick in the air as the two women stared each other down, each holding their ground with quiet intensity.
...
Vusi's thoughts were in disarray, bouncing around his mind like tenants without a proper home. He was completely lost.
One moment, he was grappling with the shocking reality of being part of a hivemind where he was supposedly the "queen," yet unable to control his so-called drones. Among these drones was someone who resembled his past friend, Thando.
The next moment, he was gravely ill, teetering on the edge of death. Just when he thought he'd found hope—a person who might protect him from the poison forced upon him—they were captured and imprisoned. It was a whirlwind of events he could barely comprehend.
He was already struggling to accept that he was part of a hivemind. It was overwhelming for anyone, let alone a baby.
The sheer mental strain caused him to lose consciousness repeatedly—at least five times, if not more—before he could even ask himself what was happening.
During these episodes, he was cared for by his father, the crown prince. He had taken it upon himself to protect him, forbidding anyone else from interacting with his child, while ensuring he visit his mother. Because of that his father fed him, bathed him, and changed his soiled cloths, ensuring that no one else came near him.
All these actions drove all the gossip circles of the chiefdom insane. Especially the idea of a man, let alone a prince, was doing the work usually assigned to woman. Even if he obviously had a little help overcoming a few learning curves.
"Don't worry I will keep you safe." Prince Jama kaNdaba said as he then hummed a melody his grieving wife would hum.
In his state of confusion, Senzangakhona was too overwhelmed to notice the significant shift in the prince's behavior.
...
Gogo - Grandmother in Zulu, but also used when referring to sangomas ( Which is why I left in Zulu, so that people don't get confused.)
...
A/N : So...😅
About the p.a.t.r.e.o.n, am turning it off for a while until I have a good buffer of chapters so that everyone can read ahead undisturbed. I will inform you all, when it is up.