The Throne of Blood

By Ekene Samuel

When a powerful and ambitious King dies amid secrecy and suspicion of foul play amongst his immediate family members and cronies, little is it known that his death would uncover so much corruption, bitterness, greed and hidden truths in the palace that threatens to bring the very foundations of the whole kingdom to its knees.

Set in a historical Riverine town with ancient ties, greatness and prosperity, The Throne of Blood is a tale of how corruption, selfishness, inordinate personal ambition and greed can cripple a kingdom once known for its glory and fairness.

This thrilling and suspense-filled saga reveals a cankerworm of unholy alliances and untoward ambition that ripples through the entire kingdom leaving in its wake, a trail of betrayals, destruction and perdition as the contending heirs to the throne show up to challenge for what each believes is their inheritance in an unexpected twist that leaves you in a breathless rush to uncover the bitter truth of the King’s most heinous murder.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ekene Samuel
• Release date: Jul 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005810313

Ekene Samuel

Ekene Samuel holds a Bachelor of Laws (LL. B)degree from Delta State University and a Master of Laws(LL.M) degree from the University of Lagos. He is DoctoralFellow of the Chartered Institute of Project Management. Heis also a Fellow of the Institute of Management Consultants,Fellow of the Institute of Professional Managers andAdministrators, Fellow of the Institute of Mentoring andCareer Coach of Nigeria, Fellow of the Institute ofProfessional Recruitment Consultants, an Associate Memberof the Chartered Institute of Taxation of Nigeria, a Memberof the Nigerian Institute of Chartered Arbitrators, anAssociate Member of the Risk Managers Association ofNigeria as well as a Certified Management Consultant(CMC) of the International Council of ManagementConsulting Institutes amongst others. He also obtained aPostgraduate Degree (PGD) in Strategic Leadership from theRedeemers International Leadership Academy (RILA).With over 15 years of experience in Financial Institutionand General Legal Practice, Ekene has been helping peopleachieve their dreams and create rewarding career paths. Heblends his expertise in Story Telling, Entrepreneurship,Organization, Leadership, Business Strategy, and CareerManagement to deliver business savvy, strength-basedcoaching, with emphasis on building lasting and successfulbusinesses.Ekene is a seasoned motivational and inspirationalspeaker who has delivered lectures and talks in manyseminars and workshops across the country. He hasauthored several books and has also published numerousarticles in different journals and magazines.Ekene is dedicated to changing the way peopleunderstand, approach, start, and grow businesses in Africa.In that light, he has written several books in the ROADMAPSERIES. They are Roadmap to Employment, Roadmap toEntrepreneurship, Roadmap to Business Success, Roadmapto Wealth Creation, Roadmap to Career Success, How toFund and Grow your Own Business, Outsmart and Outsellyour Business Competitors, Monetizing your Talents andCreativity, The Achievers Mindset, 28 Immutable Laws ofAcademic Excellence, Achievers Profile, Voice of theStranger, Forbidden, Throne of Blood, Agony of a MarriedVirgin, The Apostate, Impatient Bride, The Pretty Maid,Twisted Fate, Tale of a Village ‘Runs’ Girl amongst others.

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EKENE LOUIS SAMUEL

A Tale of Deceit, Greed & Tragedy of Inordinate Lust for Power

www.heshbonpublications.com

Copyright © 2020, Ekene Louis Samuel

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means: Electronic, Mechanical, Photocopying, Recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright owner or the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

ISBN [978-978-979-365-5]

Published by Heshbon Publications

55D, Adebisi Omotola Close

Victoria Island

Lagos, Nigeria

www.heshbonpublications.com

08086682070 | 08086682071

Distributed by Scribes Publications

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

OTHER BOOKS BY EKENE LOUIS SAMUEL

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

My deepest appreciation goes first and foremost to God the Father who breathed in me the words that filled the blank pages until it became the book you have in your hands.

My heartfelt thanks go to my mother, late Mrs Margret Samuel and to my younger sister Mrs. Nonyelim Opia (Nee Samuel). They worked tirelessly together to see me through schools and were instrumental to my academic excellence and to the success that characterises the pages of this book. I say thank you mum and may your gentle soul rest in the bosom of our Lord Jesus Christ.

I am grateful to my wife, Oghenerume Catherine Samuel. Thank you for your love, care and sacrifice. And, of course, my two Generals, Joshua and Daniel Ekene—the children of my youth. Thank you for teaching me how to be the world’s best dad. Your patience, prayers, and understanding were indeed invaluable. I say a big thank you to my ever-loving family.

My appreciation goes to Boluwatife Adeeko for her unique and overwhelming contribution and for the stress I made her go through while working on the original manuscript. Your tireless effort in ensuring this book saw the light of the day is highly commendable. My appreciation also goes to Benedict Chidiele, Osoka Ikechukwu Oliseh and Gold Nne for proof-reading the manuscript and for their significant contributions. It is on record that without your immense contributions, this book would have been impossible.

To Omatseye and Mr. Agbon Chuks Innocent, my amiable editors, your skilful and creative use of words have left me with no option but to further engage in self-development to meet your creative demands. I say a big thank you for your time, support and understanding. To my graphic designer, Afolabi Temidayo; your patience and creative input towards perfecting the cover design and the layout will not go unrewarded. You did a great job on this project.

My heartfelt gratitude also goes to the awesome Team of Heshbon Publications, Legacy Media Ng and Scribes Publications. The author in me would have remained dormant and stillborn had I not been encouraged and motivated beyond measure to unleash them.

In addition, I want to say a big THANK YOU to all the wonderful people who encouraged me to write this book. May God bless you all.

SHALOM!

Thank you all.

PROLOGUE

The whizzing and whistling of the southern breeze rushed across Rumumora community in the early hours of Monday, blowing crisp air of dew-kissed vegetation across its path and engulfing the surroundings in thick dust, with roving particles swept off the ground.

There was no sign of an impending downpour anywhere in the sky, but wave after wave of the ravishing breeze rode across the community, accompanied with rumbling clouds and intermittent peals of thunder that sent early risers back inside their shells.

It was only the wise among the elders that could sense an equation imbalance and looming evil. Chief Idah, who had been sitting on his bed wondering what the sudden change in the climate could harbinger, heard a knock on his outer window as he rose to pick up his bitter chewing stick on the locally made wooden table. He froze with anxiety. The knock came the third time before he rose to answer.

Who goes there? There was a stress in his voice that betrayed his fear.

The messenger ignored the formality of greeting. You are needed in the palace now by the Queen, sir, he blurted out and hurried off to deliver the urgent message in another location.

Chief Idah bit on his lower lip and stood still. I said it! What now? he muttered to himself. He hurriedly changed into his usual red on white chieftaincy attire and headed for the palace.

* * *

King Nabo was dead! As the news spread like wildfire on a harmattan day, the crowd outside the palace grew. The increasing crowd only heightened the eerie silence that followed such dreadful news. No one could utter a sound without fear of offending the gods. The suddenness of the king’s death posed a major challenge for the elders as the spirit of the late king appeared to hover in the air, threatening a big repercussion not only for the elders or the crowd that gathered in the palace, but for the entire community, unless something was done urgentlyHow could a king pass on without notification? What had happened to the gods? Could a king just die the death of a commoner? These, above others, were the thoughts of the people which could not be uttered lest the ancient pot kept by the ancestors above the throne fell and broke into irredeemable fragments.

But how long would silence take the front seat in the midst of the unvoiced and unsettled questions that filled the hearts of the subjects and that of the kingmakers? That this event had probably been wished and perhaps prayed for did not remove the unsettling chill that surrounded life and death, especially when it involved a king. The king had just been murdered.

Questions hung in the air desperately awaiting response from those believed to wield the powers of the gods: Who killed the king? Who was last seen with him? Where were the anchor men and the rest of the guards when he was muted unprepared? Who would succeed him?

The royal family and the chiefs had been notified of the death of the king immediately he was found dead in his inner chamber and since it was against the tradition of the kingdom to cry at the passing of a king, the palace maids kept watch over the Queen from the moment she was told what had happened.

Silence was the first rite of respect shown to a king when he passed on to be with the ancestors, even a ruler as despised as King Nabo would get that honour.

Though the king had not been popular amongst his subjects, he had been very powerful and influential in the administration of the kingdom affairs. Sure, it was all for his self-gratification and glorification, even at the detriment of the downtrodden, who were the majority in the land. Still, he was the king; one who was to be feared not challenged; and certainly not murdered.

It was no longer news that Nabo was a tyrant. His dreadful and domineering prowess had been known within and far beyond his kingdom. He had accumulated great wealth and power at the expense of the progress of his subjects.

But the question that now hung on the lips of many was why he had been murdered, and now that he was no more, who would succeed the late gladiator?

These questions also plagued the chiefs who were tasked with the arduous duty of working with the chief priest to crown the next king. As tradition demanded, the new king had to be enthroned within seven days of the deceased king’s journey to the land of his ancestors.

* * *

Chief Idah looked from the arrogant demeanour of the heir apparent, to the grief-filled face of the princess, and to the solemn face of the other prince. Who among them was capable of murdering their father? He mused.

The princess sat huddled in the far end of the palace court sniffling dryly into a folded white hankie. She had been greatly loved by her father who had always regretted that she had not been born a son. It had been rumoured that a prince from a neighbouring kingdom had asked for her hand in marriage and the late king had given a nod to his proposal.

Her despair was quite understandable given the fact that her father, the king, was no longer there to witness and bless her marriage. That the beautiful princess had remained unmarried despite the flock of suitors that trooped into the palace while her father was alive suggested that there might be more than met the eye.

Although the king had loved his first son and heir, he had also disclosed that the lad had desecrated his position by his marriage to a strange woman as well as referring to an unspoken circumstance surrounding his birth. This unspoken circumstance surrounding the birth of the heir, known only to the king and his wife, had been a secret from the people.

Whether Prince Zifa’s action and the unspoken circumstance would deter him from ascending the throne was yet to be known. He had made it clear that he had every intention of succeeding his father and surpassing his evil deeds when made king.

The Queen had always loved her second son, Prince Keme, more than the first, and it was not a secret in the palace. Would the mother hen take to her heels whilst her children remained exposed and battled with the angry and hungry hawk in the face of imminent danger? Would she remain silent and act as an umpire to watch the drama unfold whilst the hovering hawks fed on her household? Or would she sacrifice all except one to fulfil her wishes and aspirations?

Chief Ebide raised his eyes and met the roving eyes of Chief Idah Ogbus, the late king’s brother. There was no mistaking the meaning of that hard glint in his eyes as it grazed the late king’s empty golden throne. The desire to sit upon it was clearly mirrored in his eyes.

This certainly was going to be a power tussle. A new king had to be installed and the earlier the process of ordination, the better for everyone. Tradition had to be followed, and culture had to be upheld. The kingdom needed a new king. Now the die had been cast; only the gods could stop the imminent ferocious storm from descending on the man that carried the bag of salt on the last market day before the New Year festival.

The masquerades were prepared to showcase their long-standing acrobatic dance, but the weaker vessels could not be seen anywhere close to the dancing arena else the fury of the gods would know no limits.

While awaiting the arrival of the chief priest, they all wondered what he would do to affirm the wishes of the gods. What had gone wrong, and at what time? Who could halt the murderers from carrying out yet more heinous acts in order to cover up the murder and, perhaps, many more despicable acts?

CHAPTER ONE

In the Queen’s chamber where meetings with prominent women of the land were usually held, Queen Tarila sat on her customised golden throne that gave her the aura of the power she possessed.

Her ladies in waiting, Kate, Loveth and Theresa, flanked her; both to attend to her needs, and to protect. Ladies in waiting were trained in the art of defence, though they rarely had the opportunity to showcase their skills. Mostly due to the presence of the towering iroko trees of men who guarded the entrance to the queen’s chamber.

In front of the queen sat her long-time friend Queen Sharon, who was unusually quiet that night. She was one of the very few friends of the queen. Sharon sat in stoned silence. She and Tarila had been friends long enough for her to know that her friend shunned any public show of emotion, especially in situations like this.

As though seeing it for the first time, Tarila took in every detail of the impeccable, beautiful peacock statue on the medium-sized table at her far right-hand side. Soon her eyes began to dart to other details of the room down to the golden handle of the heavy brown wooden door.

Queen Tarila had been pronounced indisposed after she had retired into her chamber since the announcement of her husband’s death. It had often been a subject of debate amongst the palace’ servants and maids about who was to be feared more; the king or the queen. Such was the respect and fear she commanded both in the palace and on the subjects.

Tarila focused her gaze on the portrait on the wall across the room. It was the portrait of the entire royal family taken many years back. It included the late king, herself, Layefa, her daughter, and her two sons, Zifa and Keme. They had been younger and happier then, before the reality of life had drowned out their peace and joy.

Snapping her eyes away from the portrait, she beckoned on Theresa who was instantly at her side. Taking a gulp from the spirit the maid handed her, she returned the glass to her as she pondered on what needed to be done. She pondered on who had had the guts to kill the king. She was well aware that he had many enemies from the moment he ascended the throne, but she was puzzled as to who could have killed him in a ploy to either remove him from the throne or get back at him for reasons they believed would remain grave concerns.

She was also aware that both of her sons wanted to be king. But could they have been so desperate as to kill their own father? She had watched her daughter reject countless numbers of men who had grovelled at her feet. But just recently, she had mentioned that a prince from a neighbouring powerful kingdom had sought her hand in marriage. Would the death of the king serve the princess’ cause and she would fall into the hands of those desperately craving power?

Would she not rather burn down the entire kingdom than allow a head she hadn’t anointed wear the crown and sit on the throne she sacrificed a lot to build? The queen shook her head as though the action would clear her head of these thoughts.

She refused to believe that any of her children could be vile enough to lift up a hand to murder their father. She shivered in disgust at her own thoughts. She fully intended to find out, but first things had to come first. A new king had to ascend the throne because the late king could not be buried with the throne empty according to the tradition.

By virtue of his misconduct, their first son and heir apparent, Zifa, had forfeited the throne when he went against the custom of the land and married a girl whose king and village had not been in good terms with their kingdom for many decades. Before his death, the king had given orders that both prince Zifa and the new princess not be allowed to set foot in the palace.

She would have personally seen to it that Keme inherited the throne of his father, especially to secure her personal interests, but the choice was not hers. The chiefs and kingmakers had the final say. There was also the matter of Zifa’s claim to the throne and his obvious