The Wife of the King… By Haruspice 

It was a solemn procession to the cemetery, he bore the pall as the remains of the king was conveyed. Dirges raid the air as sympathizers wailed in muffled whispers and passersby prayed in distant glimpses. It was the final sojourn of the king and he joined to see the king find his abode in the embrace of the earth. Like everyone, he was deeply affected by the death of the king.


Half a way to the king’s resting place, something flashed in his eyes, in a confused daze, he froze in his steps forcing the other pallbearers to an abrupt halt. The funeral procession stopped and silence enveloped the sunset. Sensing an unusual situation, someone took over the carriage of the remains from him as the procession continued while he stood transfixed.


Yes, he ended his walk of conveying the king to his tomb because he saw life. what flashed in his eyes wasn’t an apparition but a living mystery. He halted his last respect for the king to get new life from his attraction. To him, the king is dead and should be allowed to rest. Pushed by the force of conviction, he walked towards her. Half away again, he paused in his step, filled in nervous and gutted with trepidation he strolled in bolts of fear as he went on bended knees.


‘I don’t know who you are, but I am here to worship you in adoration. he started in a shaky voice. I dropped the remains of the king to be here. My eyes were blinded by the dews of tears for the king until your face flashed and the eyes became clear. Sorrow-filled but now joyful, I don’t know what it is, but I am here to dwell in your light – for your beauty is the mirror of the cloud. I want to stand before you dressing in beauty for the rest of my life. I don’t know what it is, but I am here to a slave of your love.’


She stopped him with a torch on his lips, the torch that electrified him to an unimaginable fantasy. She spoke in the voices of the birds as he melted to her sensual whispers. “The king whose procession you aborted was my husband, like you, he was all life but now cold to the world. I am Murjanatu, the wife of the king…….


©pages from my untitled novel.

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