CHAPTER 196: CHAPTER 196 - THE WEIGHT OF TRUTH

The night air was cool and heavy with the scent of rain. The distant crackle of campfires flickered across the field, casting faint halos of orange against the dark horizon. Khisa walked alone through the quiet camp, his thoughts weighed down by the silence that followed every battle. The cries of the wounded had long faded, replaced by the soft hum of soldiers resting before dawn.

From behind him came a familiar voice.

"Prince Khisa," King Nzinga called, his tone steady but reflective.

Khisa turned and offered a polite bow. "Your Majesty."

"Walk with me," Nzinga said, clasping his hands behind his back. "There are things I must ask you—leader to leader."

They moved through the rows of tents, the rhythmic sound of their boots brushing against the dirt. After a long silence, Nzinga finally spoke. "Tell me the truth of the situation. All of it. No diplomacy, no titles. Just truth."

Khisa exhaled slowly, eyes on the horizon. "It’s... delicate. But you deserve to know."

He began quietly, his voice low but deliberate. "Buganda was attacked by a plague. People died by the hundreds. Entire villages wiped away in days. At first, we thought it was natural—until one of our merchants brought word to Nuri. They begged for medicine and aid, so we sent our best healers. But the medics discovered something... unnatural. The plague wasn’t born of disease—it was planted."

Nzinga’s brow furrowed. "Planted? You mean... someone spread it intentionally?"

"Yes," Khisa said. "We traced it back to a group of traitors. They confessed that Lumingu promised them leadership over Buganda once Kabaka Nakibinge was gone. They were just pawns."

The King clenched his fists. "And Lumingu’s reward?"

"Power," Khisa answered coldly. "And favor from the Portuguese. They want your ports, your ivory, your copper, your people. The slave trade in your land is a gold mine for them. Buganda was merely the first step—a puppet throne to control from the shadows. Lumingu would have stood as their loyal dog, ruling a broken region under their flag."

Nzinga’s face hardened. "I was blind... I thought they were my allies."

Khisa placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are not the first to be deceived by their promises of wealth and trade. They divide kingdoms, fuel wars, and sell weapons to both sides. It’s a cycle that must end."

The King was silent for a while, watching the soldiers in the distance move between fires. "And Nuri’s role in all this? You could have stayed home after uncovering the truth. Why risk so much for us?"

Khisa looked up at the moonlight filtering through the clouds. "Because Nuri cannot stand alone. The Portuguese are not the only ones who hunger for our lands. Their power grows because we remain divided. If Africa continues to fight itself, we will fall—one by one. But together... together, we can build something greater."

His tone grew fierce, passion rising like a storm. "They have ships that cross oceans, guns that pierce armor, and gold that buys loyalty. Yet what they fear most is unity. So long as we are fractured, they will rule. But if we build roads that connect us, teach our people to fight and think as one, then even their empires will tremble before us."

Nzinga listened, visibly moved. "You speak with such conviction. But do you really think it’s possible? That old enemies can unite?"

Khisa smiled faintly. "I’ve seen it happen. Nuri and Abyssinia stand as proof. When I first went there, I had only twenty men. We found cities in ruins, people enslaved, women broken. The Adal Sultanate and the Ottomans had seized their ports. But the Abyssinians rose with us. We pushed them back—inch by inch. Now, even those who once bowed to foreign powers fight for their own freedom."

He paused, his voice softening. "I will not let Nuri fall to the same fate. Nor will I watch another kingdom burn while I stand by. If uniting us means bearing this burden, then so be it."

Nzinga stopped walking. He studied Khisa for a long moment, the firelight glinting off his tired eyes. "You are young... far younger than I expected for someone who speaks with such gravity. Perhaps I see now why your men follow you so fiercely."

"I only give them a reason to believe," Khisa said.

The King chuckled faintly. "Belief is rarer than gold these days."

He grew quiet again, the wind carrying the distant cry of an owl. "You’re right, Prince of Nuri. I see now that our fight is not just for Kongo or Buganda. It’s for all of us. I’ve spent years turning a blind eye to the slave markets, thinking it was the price of power. But I was feeding the very beast that’s now devouring us."

Khisa nodded solemnly. "Then feed your people instead. They will follow a king who builds, not one who sells their lives away."

Nzinga turned to face him. "If we survive this war, I will change things. I swear it."

Khisa looked at him, his eyes steady but weary. "Then perhaps there is still hope for our lands."

They stood in silence as the dawn began to break, the first rays of sunlight piercing the horizon. The fires burned low, but the air felt lighter somehow—charged with the fragile promise of a new beginning.

***

Preparations were finally complete. Every soldier knew their role, every formation rehearsed until instinct replaced thought. The plan was straightforward in theory, yet perilous in execution, Khisa would lead what they hoped would be the final charge against the Kongo army, drawing Lumingu’s forces into open battle, while King Nzinga and a small, elite unit infiltrated the enemy’s command camp. If fortune favored them, by dusk the war would be over.

At dawn, the camp stirred to life. Armor clinked, war drums thundered low across the valley, and the smell of dust and iron filled the air. The Nuri banners rippled in the wind as Khisa mounted his horse, eyes scanning the horizon where the enemy waited. One final breath, and the charge began.