The moon was high, washing the village in silver light. The huts cast long shadows, and the trees swayed in the night breeze.
Inside her hut, Sola's chest tightened as she saw Ola standing outside. His body was stiff, his jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with fury. Behind him, two men moved like shadows, their faces hard and merciless.
Her lips trembled. "Ola…" she whispered.
But his name on her tongue only made his anger sharper.
"You shame me before the whole village," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You lie with another man, and you dare to live as if nothing happened."
Sola gripped the doorframe, her legs weak. "Ola, please—"
"Silence!" His voice cut like a whip. "Tonight, you will pay."
One of the men stepped forward, holding a thick stick in his hand. The other had a short cutlass glinting in the moonlight.
Sola's heart pounded. She stumbled back into the hut, fear choking her throat. She wanted to scream, but no sound came. Her mind screamed only one name.
Kunle.
Where was he?
Ola kicked the door. The wood shuddered under the blow.
"You thought you could hide behind the elders' words," he spat. "But they are not here. Tonight, only my judgment matters."
The men laughed harshly, their voices cruel in the quiet night.
Sola pressed her back against the wall, shaking. "Please… don't…"
The door shook again. This time, a crack split near the hinge.
Just as Ola raised his foot for another kick, a voice cut through the night.
"Leave her!"
It was Kunle.
He appeared on the path, his chest rising and falling with anger. His cutlass was in his hand, gleaming in the moonlight. His eyes locked on Ola, sharp and burning.
Sola's knees nearly gave way with relief. "Kunle…"
Ola turned slowly, his face twisting into a bitter smile. "Ah, the boy comes. Good. I wanted you too."
The two men shifted, gripping their weapons tighter.
Kunle stepped closer, his voice steady. "If you touch her again, it will be your last mistake."
Ola barked a laugh. "You? Against me?" He raised his arms wide. "She was my wife before she became your sin. You think you can take her from me and live?"
The tension cracked like thunder. Suddenly, Ola rushed forward, swinging his fist.
Kunle dodged and struck back, his cutlass handle slamming against Ola's ribs. Ola grunted but did not fall. He swung again, his fist grazing Kunle's jaw.
The other two men lunged. One swung his stick. Kunle blocked with his cutlass, the wood splintering against steel. The second man slashed his short blade, and Kunle jumped back just in time.
Sola screamed, her hands over her mouth.
The fight exploded in the moonlight.
Kunle moved fast, his cutlass flashing as he blocked and struck. Ola roared, charging like a bull. His fist connected with Kunle's chest, knocking him back.
But Kunle recovered quickly. He slashed low, cutting across Ola's leg. Blood spurted. Ola cursed loudly, staggering.
"You bastard!" Ola's eyes blazed.
One of his men swung the stick hard. It smashed against Kunle's shoulder. Pain shot through him, but he did not fall. He spun, his cutlass slicing across the man's arm. The stick dropped, and the man howled in pain.
The other lunged with the short blade, aiming for Kunle's stomach. Kunle twisted, but the blade grazed his side, tearing skin. Warm blood soaked his wrapper.
Sola screamed again. "Kunle!"
Kunle gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain. He slammed his fist into the man's jaw. The man stumbled, spitting blood.
The fight turned brutal.
Kunle and Ola clashed, fists and steel meeting under the moon. Sweat and blood shone on their bodies. Ola was strong, fueled by rage, but Kunle was faster, every move sharp with determination.
At one point, Ola grabbed Kunle's wrist, forcing the cutlass down. They struggled, their faces inches apart, both growling like beasts. Kunle shoved hard, breaking free, and elbowed Ola across the face. Blood sprayed from Ola's nose.
But Ola did not stop. He came again, wild, desperate. His fists hammered Kunle's ribs, each blow heavy with hate. Kunle gasped but fought back, slashing across Ola's arm.
The smell of blood filled the air.
Sola could not move. She clung to the wall, watching the man she loved fight for both their lives.
The villagers began to gather. Faces appeared in the shadows, whispers rising.
"Look! Ola is fighting Kunle!"
"They will kill each other!"
"Blood has already spilled!"
Children clung to their mothers, wide-eyed. Men shouted, urging one side or the other. The village was awake, the quiet night shattered.
Still, the fight raged.
Kunle's cutlass cut another line across Ola's chest. Ola roared, grabbing a handful of dirt and flinging it into Kunle's eyes. Kunle staggered, blinking, half-blind.
Ola seized the chance, lifting a heavy stone and smashing it against Kunle's shoulder. Kunle cried out, stumbling to his knees.
Sola ran forward. "Stop! Please, stop!"
But Ola's hand rose again with the stone, ready to crush Kunle's skull.
At the last second, Kunle rolled aside. The stone smashed into the ground, cracking the earth. Kunle kicked Ola's legs out from under him. Ola crashed down.
The two rolled on the dirt, fists flying, blood smearing the ground.
Then—the elders' drums sounded.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The heavy beat echoed through the village. The crowd hushed.
"Enough!" a voice thundered.
The eldest of the council stood at the edge of the crowd, his staff raised high. His eyes blazed with fury. Behind him, more elders arrived, their faces grim.
"Blood has been spilled," the elder said. "Shame has multiplied. This madness ends now!"
Kunle froze, panting, blood dripping from his lip. Ola lay beneath him, his face swollen, one eye nearly shut.
Sola rushed forward, falling to Kunle's side. "Please… stop…"
The elders' eyes swept over them all—the fighters, the crowd, the blood on the ground.
"This village will not be torn apart by your anger," the eldest declared. "Tomorrow, at the gathering ground, judgment will fall again."
The crowd whispered, restless. Some muttered that Kunle should die. Others hissed that Ola had gone too far.
But for now, the fight is over.
Kunle struggled to his feet, blood soaking his side. Sola held him, tears streaking her face.
Ola spat blood onto the dirt, his chest heaving. He pointed at Kunle with a trembling hand.
"This is not finished," he growled. His voice was low, but every villager heard it. "I will have my revenge. Even if the gods curse me, I will see you die."
The night grew colder. The crowd slowly dispersed, but the whispers lingered in the air like smoke.
Sola and Kunle limped back into the hut, their bodies bruised, their hearts heavy.
And as she lay beside him, Sola knew the truth: the fight was only beginning.