Words of Swords

2 . 1

Dije was even more late than Abu was. She was delayed since she changed her whole outfit on Kulu's insistence that the last one smelled like "horse dung and mischief."

She was now dressed in white just like her brother. A white cloak embroidered in silver was drown over her face, concealing half of it and a matching inner gown could be seen from the opening of the cloak but the same silver necklace adorned her neck. Her brother's gift was not meant to be wasted and more so she who had never been a fan of jewellery, felt she liked this particular ornament.

Her entourage of ten trailed behind her as she entered into the event and guests began to oggle her, parting as she made their way through them. She finally stopped where her mother was stood, whispering in a language Dije couldn't comprehend to the numerous people sorrounding her.

"Mother" Dije bowed a greeting and the Queen turned to her daughter with eyes ablaze, as always.

"What is the reason for your absence this time?"

Dije's mind was blank of excuses so she just kept quiet, her head lowered awaiting her mother's outburst which to her surprise, came out as only a sigh. But Dije quickly attributed her mother's calmness to the numerous eyes currently on them.

"You knew he must be waiting for you, you know you are never to keep your future husband waiting." the Queen tsked "Quite unbecoming of you Khadija."

"Forgive me Mother."

Queen Dubu looked to her attendant who swiftly understood her unsaid command and scurried away to fulfill it. She then looked back to her daughter. They shared an uncanny resemblance -- a childlike face with skin of deep ebony and large eyes of equally deep coal -- but their unseen souls couldnt have been any more different. Dubu understood that long ago and since tired of trying to fix it especially now when Hali was no longer around to bridge them together.

She placed a cold hand to Dije's cheek lifting her face up to inspect if she looked groomed enough to presented as the Princess. Pleased, she withdrew her hand just as her attendant stood back by her side with a short and stubby woman and a burly bear chested man accompanying her.

Inky orbs gleamed as they were set on one whom they had hungered to see. Chapped and swollen lips housing miraculously pearly white teeth opened up to a wide smile as Arne stood before his betrothed, bowing to her in a chivalrous manner that wasn't at all fitting of his rugged appearance.

"My Lady."

"Sire." Dije bowed a little, not going as low as he. He was only the High Priestess's apprentice after all. Only the future High Priest while she was the Princess. "Forgive my tardiness, I pray I haven't kept you waiting."

"Not at all dearest," he answered, leading her away. "You need not apologise."

His face could have been attractive, Dije observed, with his mane of tangled raven black hair that fell below his shoulders, Arne could have been handsome if not for the numerous gashes and scars found on him every other day that made his face drooped and swollen. But besides that, what every other woman in Indarari saw in him as attractive, Dije saw as appalling. The bulging muscles on his bear chest, the six chiselled packs drilled to his stomach and the bursting biceps whenever he flexed, all held testimonies of the numerous boxing matches he had battled and on every occasion, emerged victorius in.

His learning under Priestess Salamatu did not hinder in his activities as the strongest and most famous boxer known to this part of the Western Sudan. The name he earned during his fights had even succeded in overthrowing his real name. Even on the field, he was known and respected to be the future leader of the pagans and so Garbati dan Aradu was simply dubbed as Arne.