Chapter 7: Cold Wind for Palace

As e talk, Chief Chinedu feel cold breeze waka pass.

The flame for lantern flicker, wind move curtain. Chinedu rub arm, pretend say e dey fix cloth. But inside, the chill dey dig bone.

No be the kind gentle rain or fine palm trees for Umuola, no be early harmattan dream or sweet scent of fried plantain for autumn, na that wicked northern wind, full of dust and chill.

For Chief Chinedu mind, e remember the days of dust storm for Jos, when red sand go cover house roof, everybody go dey cough. The taste of home no be this harsh chill. The palace, usually warm, suddenly feel foreign.

Chief Chinedu look up, jam Musa Adigun eye.

Musa Adigun eye dey glint like blade wey dem just sharpen. The silence stretch, everybody hold breath. Chief Chinedu quickly check himself—no trembling, just cold sweat for back.

Those eyes serious—serious like cold wind for Benue River. Musa Adigun no be that kind person, but e believe say this kind person, you no fit use play.

Palace guards, noticing, shift leg. Even wall painting of old Oba seem to frown. Chief Chinedu swallow spit, know say now na time to watch mouth.

Chief Chinedu eye shake. This one pass my level.

For that brief second, e regret no carry prayer bead. The feeling of being outmatched, e heavy, make Chief Chinedu mentally whisper, "God abeg."