"You've been chosen."
When Bantu heard these words in his mind, he couldn't help but say, " Is this some kind of witchcraft?" The thought slipped from his lips before he realized what he was saying.
The weight of his words struck him immediately. He dropped to his knees—an uncommon act among the inguni people—and bowed low before the prince . "I apologize," he stammered. "I did not mean to imply... I would never accuse..."
Among their people, sangomas were revered, their powers seen as a sacred connection to the ancestors. But witchcraft, when said scared powers was used with bad intentions, was something they feared and loathed. To accuse anyone, much less a prince, of such practices was a grave offense.
The prince, however, showed no sign of anger. He remained calm, his expression serene. Without moving his lips, he transmitted his thoughts directly into Bantu's mind: "There is no need to kneel, Mukulu. I know you meant no harm by your words. Besides, we are all equal under the Presence.
Now stand up, we have an outsider in the room."
His gentle tone eased Bantu's shame, and he slowly stood. Still, he felt the need to apologize again but held himself back as he turned toward the prince's guard. The man remained stone-faced, offering no acknowledgment of what he had just done. Before turning his stare into the ground once again.
As another flood of thoughts and knowledge that entered Bantu's mind to the point it was becoming overwhelming. He tried to process the sudden influx, but it felt as though his brain was swimming.
Finally, he turned back to the prince, his thougths trembling. "Why? Why did you choose me? You could have chosen someone else. There are stronger, wiser people in the tribes—people more worthy than me."
Prince Jama tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "As I said, it was not my choice. The Nexus of minds chose you."
Bantu frowned, his confusion deepening. "What is the Nexus of minds?"
The moment the question entered his mind, understanding dawned upon him in the form of memories and images not his own.
The Nexus of minds was not a mere concept—it was the second soul of Prince Senzangakhona, a force bound to him since birth. It was this soul that had reached out to Bantu, seeking his help. The knowledge was so vast, so foreign, that Bantu swayed on his feet as he struggled to comprehend it all.
Jama watched him quietly, his eyes betraying a hint of sympathy. When Bantu finally found his voice again, he asked, "What happened to the prince? Why does the Nexus of minds need me?"
And again, the answer came directly from the Nexus of Minds itself, planting knowledge into Bantu's mind.
The prince had been poisoned with imbiza, a fairly common medical concoction with many benefits. However it was deadly to infants, especially to those at the age where they should not even be drinking water. But did the average nguni know that?
Bantu clenched his fists as he processed this revelation. Slowly, another piece of knowledge surfaced—the steps needed to cure the prince. Turning back to the Prince Jama, he asked, "How much sheep or cattle bones does the tribe have on hand?"
The Prince raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Enough for what you need, Mukulu. Speak to the Nexus of minds, and it will guide you further."
With that information, Bantu set off to procure the right materials and resources to heal the prince. While he was busy, Senzangakhona, who had seemed 'unconscious' at the time, slowly opened his eyes. Looking directly at his father, he asked dryly, "This is the only guy who was loyal? Seriously? That's the best I could come up with?"
His father, who was carrying him effortlessly, didn't even glance his way. Without moving his lips, he transmitted his words directly to his mind: "I think it wasn't that bad. And you are currently a infant. So it's not like you had a better idea, old man."
The prince immediately retorted, "I'm not that old!"
His response was a soft chuckle, which only served to further torment the 'old man' trapped in the body of an infant.
Why was this odd exchange even taking place? To explain that, we need to go back—to a day ago.
...
Flashback - A day ago
Senzangakhona had just woken up from another 'system reboot,' as he called it, though the truth was far simpler— it was just stress, something no baby could handle. Yet, admitting something so trivial had overwhelmed him was unthinkable for a man of his stature. What would his rivals think if they knew?
So what if they weren't even born yet? If they found out, what would they think?
Of course, this line of reasoning wasn't on his mind as he opened his eyes. Instead, he saw Prince Jama cradling him, and he had a heartwarming smile radiating down at him.
Something Prince Jama rarely did, making the moment all the more surprising.
Which for a moment, he felt a rare sense of comfort—until he told Senzangakhona that he knew that he was not an infant.
Or, as Senzangakhona prefers to call it, 'the Mbali experience'. But this time, instead of drowning him in cryptic explanations about the Nexus or expressing anger that Senzangakhona possessed his son and heir. Prince Jama was clearly preparing to strike a deal.
"Let's make a deal, old man," He said, holding him like some peculiar treasure.
Startled, Senzangakhona quickly adjusted himself, a faint connection between them flickering into focus. It was eerily similar to the one he shared with Mbali, yet distinct. His thoughts reeled as he bristled at his words.
"First of all, I'm not that old," Senzangakhona retorted. "When I passed, I was in my mid-thirties. That's far from ancient. And second, what are you proposing?"
Prince Jama's eyes sparkled with amusement. It seemed he'd conveniently forgotten the realities of his time. In the 18th century, a life expectancy of 30–40 years was typical, given the lack of proper medical knowledge and basic hygiene. By his reckoning, Senzangakhona's mid-thirties would've been akin to a modern-day man in his 50s or 60s.
Prince Jama could have explained this basic fact to Senzangakhona, but where would the fun be in that? Ignorance, after all, was bliss. A short-lived bliss, but bliss nonetheless.
Still, the knowledge he now possessed was precisely why he had approached Senzangakhona. His smile deepened as he replied to his question.
"I'm proposing this: I can help you prevent your current condition from worsening. In exchange, you'll help me build the greatest empire the world has ever seen.":
Senzangakhona heard this and felt a twinge of fear at first. However, that fear was quickly overtaken by burning rage. The audacity of this prince of did not even understand the basics of warfare, he thought.
"Is that a threat?" he asked, his voice laced with fury.
The prince responded without hesitation, his expression shifting into something almost mocking. "No doubt," he said, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Come on now, old man. Don't use that tone. It's not your style. And either way when it comes to me, i make no threats. It's simple: if you don't help me, you die."
The bluntness of those words made Senzangakhona clench his fists, his knuckles lightening as he locked eyes with Prince Jama. His rage boiled over, and he wanted nothing more than to gouge out the prince's eyes. But as he moved to speak, the prince interrupted with a smirk.
"'You wouldn't be able to' is what you are probably thinking rigth now." Jama said, leaning forward. "'The Nexus of Mind doesn't allow its members to harm the Core.'"
For the first time, Prince Jama showed no emotion as he looked at Senzangakhona like a horror movie antagonist. "Ah, yes, the Nexus won't let me hurt you," he said. "But do you even know why?"
Senzangakhona eyebrows rose as he could not excess the information Prince Jama could excess, causing to be curious. Before he could respond, Prince Jama answered his own question.
"Loyalty," Jama said, his tone almost mocking. "That's why. The Nexus of Mind prevents any members from harming the Core because to even be a part of the Nexus, we must be loyal to you in some form or another. But loyalty is not created equally."
He paused for effect, his grin sharpening into something menacing. "And because I am such a loyal servant of yours, I believe the best way to demonstrate my loyalty... is to put you out of your misery. You're suffering, after all."
The moment those words sank in, Senzangakhona's rage was extinguished, snuffed out like a flame in a storm. All that remained was fear—raw, suffocating fear. It gripped him tighter as Prince Jama pressed his fingers against Senzangakhona's nose and covered his mouth with his hand, cutting off his air.
Senzangakhona's panic rose as he struggled for breath, his body writhing in desperation. Jama's calm demeanor only seemed to confirm his theory: unlike Mbali, who had a different set of belief systems that could not hurt him even if she tried.
Prince Jama on the other hand could suffocate him and nothing stopped him from even trying unlike Mbali.
Senzangakhona could hardly think about that as his vision began blurred while his heart beat was get louder and gradually slower. Fighting for air, each moment a reminder of his helplessness in the face of the infant prince's unrelenting grip.
Until he suddenly felt the sweet feeling of air entering his air ways once again as Prince Jama let go of his nose. Causing Senzangakhona to regain his vision thanks to him trying to catch his breath, as he asked.
"And how are you going to do?"
As building an empire was far from easy. Just thinking about the logistics, manpower, technology, and countless resources required to sustain an empire, let alone construct it, was overwhelming.
It would undoubtedly involve immense effort, sacrifice, and most likely, dead bodies along the way. It wasn't something he believed could be achieved by just one man and a baby. Even if that baby was him.
He grinned, his confidence unwavering. "Princess Mkabayi kaJama."
Senzangakhona squinted his eyes at that name, before his eyes widened at the realization of what Prince Jama implied. Memories of the historical significance that the name had, began to surface.
As that name was by no means ordinary. Mkabayi was infamous in Zulu history as a brilliant, ruthless strategist who had shaped the Zulu kingdom. If Shaka Zulu was the king of the Zulu Kingdom, Mkabayi was the one who allowed him to be king. And when he had outlasted his use, she replaced him.
"The Kingmaker," Prince Jama continued, his smile fading into a bitter smirk. "That's what they'll call her in the history books. And all she did was help unite a group of tribes and kill off anyone who did not share her vision, especially royal opposition.
And if Mkabayi, someone from a small tribe that despises her, can accomplish that. Then there must be others like her, just waiting for the opportunity to showcase their talents.
Together, we can ensure these people have the resources, the training, and the authority they need to make their talents shine. And as long as they remain loyal to us.
They will build the empire. They can ensure we never again suffer under those bloody colonizers. Yes, a few people might die along the way, but you're are no stranger to that, are you?"
His words carried a ruthless determination that chilled Senzangakhona. How could he not be unsettled? How would anyone feel, confronted by a man with modern insights plotting, plotting to create an empire made up of Niccolo Machiavellis and Leonardo da Vincis that would rival the peak of Great Britain?
For a fleeting moment, he considered refusing him outright. But was it Prince Jama confidence that stopped him? Or was it the reality of his situation—his only chance of survival now rested in Prince Jama's hands. Or maybe, deep down, he had South African propaganda still tethered to this land, yearning to see such an empire rise?
Against his better judgment, he agreed.
It didn't take long for regret to set in.
" To a great partnership, old man."
...
End of flashback - Back to the present day - Nigth time
As Kanya finished concocting her latest batch of imbiza, a large figure suddenly entered her hut without warning. Startled, she jumped back, positioning herself behind her potions, herbs, and mixtures. Her hands scrambled for something to defend herself against the intruder. But as the flickering flame illuminated the man's face, she recognized him—none other than Bhekisisa.
Her fear dissolved into seething rage. "How dare you barge into my hut without permission!" she shouted.
Normally, Bhekisisa was a violent and unpredictable man, quick to send anyone disrespectful to their grave with his beloved assegai spear. Yet this time, he bowed his head and knelt before her. "I apologize, Gogo. I couldn't come earlier; the prince needed my assistance."
Kanya, still fuming, stood up and adjusted her appearance, trying to compose herself. But her anger wasn't easily quelled. "And that gives you the right to come at this hour? I gave you a job yesterday, and instead of hearing from you, I learn the results from others! Do you know how that makes me feel?"
Bhekisisa said nothing, remaining bowed as she approached him. Grabbing his jaw, she squeezed his cheeks harshly. "It makes me feel like you don't respect me. Do you understand your place, Bhekisisa? You work for me!"
He tried to explain, "I had to accompany the prince—if I hadn't—"
"I don't care!" she snapped, cutting him off. "Next time I give you a task, you report to me immediately. Do you understand?" Her nails dug into his skin as she tightened her grip.
"Yes, Gogo," he finally replied.
Only then did she release him. She returned to her work, mixing her imbiza, not sparing him a glance as she said, "I heard Jama has a new sangoma. A replacement."
Bhekisisa responded, "The prince didn't mean to replace anyone. He just wanted another opinion."
"I didn't ask for Jama's intentions," Kanya interrupted coldly. "Don't overstep your boundaries. What I want to know is—does this new sangoma have any skill?"
Bhekisisa hesitated. "I don't know much about sangomas, but he's young and seems inexperienced. A bit of a klutz."
Kanya thought for a moment, then nodded. "Perhaps that'll make it easier to deal with him. And if am lucky, he might kill Jama's son.
Fine. Do nothing to interfere. Let him do his work. I want to see what this little upstart is capable of."
Bhekisisa bowed his head again. "As you wish, Gogo."
"Good," Kanya replied. "Now leave. I have important work to finish. Oh, and you're certain no one will find the bodies, right?"
"I'm certain," he assured her.
She gave him a sharp look. "Swear it. Swear it on your sons' life."
At this, Bhekisisa's eyes flared red with fury. His fists clenched, and for a moment, it seemed like he might snap. But he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "I swear," he said through gritted teeth.
Kanya scoffed. "Good. As long as you understand the stakes, Bhekisisa."
He stared at her silently for a few moments before standing and leaving the hut.
...
A/N : Load shedding is a 🤬.
Couldn't get any work done, but hope you'll like the chapter. The p.a.t.r.e.o.n will take longer to create then I expected.
Sorry guys🙏
Oh and when members of the Nexus are the only ones in a scene the will have sentence, instead of this.
Last Spear of the Zulu Empire: Bring the 21st century to Africa 🐆