With dawn’s chorus came a now familiar heavy, stodgy dread that weighed Attem’s stomach down. Ituen stirred and pulled her closer to his chest. She could feel his heart beating close to her spine, his breath warming her neck. It was agony ensconced in bliss. She stared directly into the morning light at the opening of the cave. It was strange, that the open air represented freedom, when she really only felt free in the dark, within Ituen’s arms. She thought she had this situation controlled, that she could live two lives simultaneously, survive one if she had another, but since knowing Ituen, the life she lived with the king had become increasingly empty. It wasn’t just the fact that she had fallen in love; it was the growing dissatisfaction of having to please Offiong, a hateful and disgusting man with no dignity and no respect for his people. Ituen, meanwhile, gave more than half his spoils away, only keeping what he needed to live. If he wanted, he could have lived like a prince. Settled. Obtained a wife – wives. He had chosen not to. These moments with her chosen men were meant to be an escape; a dream world she could enjoy for a time, but with Ituen this dream was starting to solidify into a reality. A reality that she fought the urge to reach out and grasp, lest it was a mirage.
‘What’s on your mind, Leopardess?’
Ituen’s voice growled against her back, chased by his soft lips, Attem turned around and faced Ituen.
‘Ituen . . . I haven’t chosen anyone else aside from you since I first met you.’
Ituen picked up Attem’s hand and kissed it, eyes bright. ‘Me neither—’
‘You don’t have to lie to me. I would understand if—’
Ituen’s eyes glowed like iron on a furnace. ‘I swear it, Attem. May the gods strike me down if I’m lying.’
Attem felt something fierce and galvanic warm her from her stomach. She felt the bond pull tauter and wrest them closer. ‘Ituen, I want you to know that you could have your freedom if you want it. Every time you come here you risk your life.’
Ituen’s gaze seemed to switch dimensions, became all of a sudden deeper, fuller, overflowing with something that poured into Attem’s heart till it felt it was going to explode. His grip on her became firmer, and he leant his forehead against hers. She found that air was sweeter when it came directly from him.
‘Attem, listen to me. I wasn’t living before I met you. I was hunting, going from village to village, hungry and wild, trying to fill myself up with trinkets. And then you arrived, and I realised that I was looking for you. I want to find a way to be with you.’
The sweetness filled Attem up till tears pricked her eyes. For a moment she truly believed that perhaps reality and fantasy could merge, that together they could breathe life into the impossible. ‘This is what I want to talk to you about—’
‘They’re coming!’ A frantic voice split the air between them, which made Attem and Ituen spring apart and Ituen run towards the cave opening, where Affiah stood panting, eyes wild, her clothes slipping off her body and her hair in disarray.
Attem’s stomach solidified into rock. She barely felt the words leaving her mouth as she hastily tied her wrapper around herself. ‘Who?’
Affiah’s eyes glistened as she ran into the cave and pulled her mistress up. ‘Attem . . .’
It was serious. As close as they were, Affiah never ever referred to Attem by her given name.
Affiah continued, ‘We have to move. Someone has betrayed us and informed the king. They are coming. They are coming . . . oh!’ She was wailing now. ‘Offiong’s men are coming. They are expecting to find something. Let us be going, please!’ She grabbed Attem’s arm and tried to drag her towards the opening of the cave, but Attem held still. Affiah looked at Attem as if she had grown five heads. Attem attempted to calm her friend down, but this only made Affiah more panicked. Attem gripped hold of Affiah’s shoulders, hoping the pressure would assuage her own trembles.
‘Affiah. Affiah, look at me! I have never ordered you to obey me. Now I will. I have to stay here. If I move, I look suspicious. I told Offiong I was worshipping and that is what he will find me doing. The fruit and the wine are offerings. You hear me? I must stay. You go.’
Attem could hear distant marching, faint chants. Her blood pounded in her ears. Affiah nodded, her breathing only slightly slower. ‘I will stay with you, ma. They will be more likely to believe then.’
Attem could not argue with this. She turned to Ituen, who had somehow found the time to go to his knapsack and procure a dagger. His eyes were flinty and dark; he was ready to make his final kill. She shook her head. ‘No. Put that away. You have to leave.’