Onyeka stood before the villagers with a face as cold as stone. His single eye, sharp and calculating, scanned the crowd. He saw no people—only problems to be solved and tasks to complete.
"Line up the children," he ordered, his voice hard. "We move now."
The soldiers wasted no time. Mothers clung to their children, crying. Fathers glared and quivered in silent rage, but no one dared challenge Onyeka.
The soldiers pulled the children away, pushing them into a line. Onyeka counted each one with quick, precise glances.
"Get them moving," he commanded in an emotionless tone.
Obinna stood to the side, his expression unreadable.
Onyeka's gaze landed on Ikenna. His white hair gleamed under the harsh sun, and the lightning-shaped scars that ran across his dark skin stood out like marks of power. His cloudy eyes seemed distant yet sharp. Ikenna led the line of children, following behind the carts carrying the supplies and resources plundered from the village.
Despite the uncertainty of the situation and the fear that paralyzed the other children, Ikenna confidently stood at the helm of the line. Onyeka saw no fear in his eyes. It rubbed him the wrong way, but he had to admit he liked the boy.
"He's got guts," Onyeka said to Obinna, nodding in Ikenna's direction.
Obinna replied with a nod of his own.
"If he falters, the others will fall," Onyeka said, narrowing his eyes.
Obinna's face hardened. "Don't mess with him," he warned coldly. "I'll explain my reasons for my special treatment of the boy when we get back to the capital."
Onyeka raised an eyebrow as he stared long and hard at his brother but didn't argue. Obinna's tone left no room for questions.
"You better do. I've always known you to be kind-hearted, brother, but even the soldiers are whispering behind your back," Onyeka said before leaving to check on the final details of their march home.
The journey from the village was long and grueling. The sun beat down mercilessly, and the dusty road seemed endless. The soldiers marched in disciplined rows, while the children stumbled along. At least the soldiers kept the pace comfortable for the children, but even that was a grim experience for some of them.
Ikenna walked at the front of the group of children. His face was set in a grim expression. The other children watched him closely, drawing strength from his steady steps.
As they traveled, a girl a few paces behind tripped over a rock from exhaustion and fell hard to the ground. She winced as she scraped her knee.
Ikenna paused, glancing back. The soldiers shouted for them to keep moving, but he ignored them. He walked back to the girl and held out his hand.
Ikenna knelt beside her, ignoring the sting of the soldiers' glare. "Can you walk?"
The girl nodded, biting her lip to keep from crying. "Thank you," she whispered.
He helped her to her feet, his grip firm but gentle. "Come on. We can't fall behind."
The other children watched the exchange with a mixture of awe and hope. Ikenna hadn't been one to play much with the village children—his unique appearance had made him an outcast, rumored to be cursed by the gods. But now, his calm defiance and steady presence had become a source of strength for them all.
The girl glanced at him as they walked. "You're not like the others," she said quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"You don't look afraid."
"I am," he admitted. "But that doesn't matter right now. Our fate is in the hands of the gods."
She studied him for a moment, then nodded. "I'm glad you're here."
Ikenna didn't respond, but her words settled in his chest, warm and unexpected.
By midday, they reached the soldiers' encampment near the Onu River. The camp was a hive of activity, filled with leather tents made from animal skin, pitched in neat rows, and smoke climbing from cooking fires. Captives from other villages sat huddled together, their faces pale and hollow.
Obinna dismounted from his horse, surveying the camp with a critical eye. Onyeka was already issuing orders to the soldiers.
"Double the perimeter guards," Onyeka commanded. "I want this place locked down. No one gets in or out without my say."
Obinna approached him. "You don't trust our own men?"
Onyeka's expression was unreadable. "Trust is a liability. Precautions aren't."
Obinna sighed. "We'll rest here for the night and continue to the capital at first light."
Onyeka nodded. "I'll handle the night watch."
Obinna ordered the soldiers to hand out bowls of porridge and then retired to his tent, the largest one in the middle of the camp.
The soldiers handed out thick, steaming porridge made from yams to the children. They ate hungrily, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten as they filled their bellies with warm food.
Ikenna sat apart from the others, staring into the flames. His scars glowed faintly in the firelight. The girl from earlier approached him, holding her bowl carefully.
"Hi," she said quietly.
He looked up, his cloudy eyes unreadable.
"I never said thank you," she added.
"You already did," Ikenna replied.
"Well, thanks again," she said, sitting beside him. "I'm Chizaram."
"Ikenna."
She smiled faintly. "You don't talk much, do you?"
"No."
They sat in silence, the fire crackling between them. Despite the weight of the day, Chizaram's presence felt strangely comforting.
The following morning, they continued their journey to the Orlu kingdom. The journey took four days in total. As they traveled, they passed many villages and settlements. Some of the villages were large, and some were small, but one thing they all had in common was that they were more developed than the villages of the captives, and their standard of living was higher.
Seeing this intrigued the children. Over time, the feeling of dread that gnawed at them subsided. They stared in awe at the paved roads of the kingdom, made from reinforced clay and stones. The huts were larger and more sturdy, and even the indigenous people appeared well-fed and healthy.
By the end of the fourth day, they arrived at the capital city.
"Welcome to the capital of Orlu Kingdom. This will be your home for the foreseeable future," Obinna's voice boomed as he addressed the children.
"Remember, the kingdom will take care of you if you show loyalty, but it will annihilate you if you're treacherous. Keep this in mind going forward," he said, then led them toward the gates.