Year: 1884
The council session was supposed to be routine.
Trade agreements. Tribute adjustments. The usual business of governance. But Akenzua saw the tension the moment he entered--chiefs clustered in factions, whispered conversations falling silent.
"Something's wrong," he murmured to Osarobo.
"Osaro's been working the room since dawn. He's calling for a vote."
"On what?"
"Your expansion plans. He wants them publicly debated and rejected."
Before Akenzua could respond, Chief Osaro rose.
"The council must address a matter of grave concern. The prince's military preparations threaten to provoke the very conflict he claims to prevent."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
"The prince has been observed conducting activities that, if reported to British authorities, could be interpreted as hostility." Osaro's voice was measured, reasonable. "I propose the council vote to suspend all such activities pending review."
"You propose we surrender before the war even starts," Akenzua said.
"I propose we don't give the British reason to start one."
---
The debate turned personal within minutes.
"The prince asks us to trust his fever visions." Chief Ehigiator's voice dripped contempt. "Perhaps we should consult other patients in the healers' quarters."
"The prince asks you to open your eyes." Akenzua kept his voice level. "The Royal Niger Company has received its charter. They're already pressuring the Delta chiefs."
"Trade pressure. Not invasion."
"Trade pressure is how they begin. Ask the Brass merchants how 'trade' feels when the Company decides to squeeze."
Ehigiator stood. "You speak of the Company as if they're already at our gates. They're merchants. Merchants can be negotiated with."
"They're conquerors who use trade as their advance guard." Akenzua rose to meet him. "Every treaty they sign strips sovereignty from the people who sign it."
"You've been reading too many Portuguese pamphlets."
The insult landed like a slap.
"Perhaps Chief Ehigiator would prefer reading British ones." Akenzua's voice hardened. "I understand they pay well for favorable opinions."
Ehigiator's face went red. "You dare--"
"I dare speak truth." Akenzua stepped forward. "Your trading house has been receiving unusual payments through Lagos intermediaries. Should we discuss where that money comes from?"
---
Ehigiator lunged.
Guards moved to intercept, but the chief's hand was already reaching for Akenzua's throat. Someone shouted. Bodies surged.
Akenzua caught the chief's wrist. Twisted. Applied pressure to the nerve cluster.
Ehigiator gasped and dropped to one knee.
"Violence in the council chamber is punishable by exile." Akenzua's voice carried to every corner. "But I'll forgive this once. Because I understand that desperation makes men stupid."
He released the wrist.
Ehigiator stumbled back, cradling his arm. His allies pulled him away, but the damage was done. A chief had attacked a prince in open council.
"The debate will continue," the Oba said firmly. "Without further... interruptions."
---
During a recess, Idia found Akenzua in the corridor.
"Ehigiator's family has held a grudge against the throne for three generations. His grandfather was passed over for a chieftaincy that went to your grandfather's ally."
"So this is personal."
"Everything in this court is personal. The political is just the mask it wears." She lowered her voice. "The vote will be close. Osaro has been promising favors to the uncertain chiefs. Trade advantages. Marriage alliances. He's been building this coalition for months."
"Can we counter?"
"Some. But Chief Obaseki controls three votes, and he's refusing to commit. If he goes with Osaro..."
"What does Obaseki want?"
"That's the problem. No one knows. He's been nursing some private grievance for years, but he's never revealed what it is."
---
Akenzua requested a private meeting with Obaseki that evening.
The old chief arrived in simple robes, his face revealing nothing.
"Prince Akenzua. You want my vote."
"I want to understand why you're hesitating."
Obaseki was silent for a long moment.
"Twelve years ago, your father made a decision. A boundary dispute between my lands and Osaro's. He ruled in Osaro's favor, despite evidence that supported my claim."
"I remember the case. Vaguely."
"You wouldn't. You were a child." Obaseki's voice was flat. "I lost a third of my productive farmland. My family's income dropped. My daughter's marriage prospects suffered because our dowry couldn't match expectations."
"And you've been waiting for revenge."
"I've been waiting for justice." The chief met his eyes. "Osaro benefited from a corrupt ruling. Now he asks me to support his policies. The irony is bitter."
"If I could reverse the ruling--"
"Your father still lives. You can't override him."
"But I can investigate. Reopen the evidence. If the original decision was corrupt, that changes everything."
Obaseki studied him. "You'd do that? Risk your father's reputation to gain my support?"
"I'd do that because it's right. The vote is secondary."
---
The council reconvened the next morning.
Akenzua had spent the night reviewing old records. The boundary dispute was murkier than he'd hoped--evidence on both sides, procedural irregularities that could be interpreted multiple ways.
Not enough for a reversal. Not yet.
"The vote on the prince's military preparations," the herald announced.
Chief by chief, the votes came.
Seven for continuing the preparations.
Eight against.
Three abstaining--including Obaseki.
"The motion passes," Osaro announced, his voice triumphant. "The prince's military activities are hereby suspended pending council review."
It wasn't a complete defeat. "Suspended pending review" meant delay, not cancellation. But it gave Osaro the narrative he wanted--the council rejecting the prince's policies.
"I accept the council's decision," Akenzua said carefully. "And I request an expedited review. Given the urgency of the situation."
"The review will proceed at appropriate speed," Osaro replied.
Which meant as slowly as he could manage.
---
That evening, the inner circle gathered.
"We lost the vote," Osarobo said flatly. "Eight to seven with three abstentions."
"We haven't lost anything yet." Akenzua's voice was steady. "The vote suspends activities pending review. We continue the weapons program in secret while the review drags on."
"And if they discover we're ignoring their decision?"
"They won't. Because officially, we're complying completely."
"Obaseki abstained," Idia observed. "That's better than voting against us."
"His grievance runs deep. The boundary case--I've reviewed it. There may be grounds for reopening."
"That would infuriate Osaro."
"Osaro is already my enemy. At least this way, I might gain an ally."
Erebo spoke up. "The weapons program can continue regardless of council votes. The forge is hidden. The training grounds are outside their jurisdiction."
"But recruitment becomes harder if we're officially restricted." Akenzua stared at the map. "Osaro's won this round. But the game isn't over."
---
Later, alone, Akenzua faced the weight of defeat.
He had underestimated Osaro. Underestimated the old feuds that ran through the court. Underestimated how many chiefs could be bought with promises and favors.
The British would hear about this. Henderson and MacGregor would report that the prince's faction was weakening. That resistance to British expansion was crumbling from within.
"You're brooding again." Esohe entered without announcement.
"I lost the vote. The council has officially suspended our preparations."
"Officially. What happens unofficially?"
"We continue. But slower. More carefully."
"Then we continue." She sat beside him. "A vote isn't a war. It's a battle. You can lose battles and still win wars."
"The war is against time. Every day we delay is a day we can't recover."
"Then we make the days we have count more."
Outside, the city slept peacefully. Unaware that its prince had just suffered his first major political defeat. Unaware that the council had taken a step toward accommodation with the British.
But the weapons program would continue.
The training would continue.
The preparations would continue.
Just slower. More carefully. And with the knowledge that enemies weren't just across the ocean--they were inside the palace walls.