“Aduloge, why do you tarry in announcing this year’s tribute? Granted, she is your daughter, but that doesn’t make her any different from the others.”

“Nwalibe, I have heard you. I will let the village know at the right time.”

“Remember, the leaves that hung above us are the very ones trodden underfoot when they die.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“No one is above the laws of nature. Not even the High Priest of Eguologo.”

“I have heard enough. Leave!”

Nwalibe left Aduloge’s hut very embittered.

Aduloge sat quietly, gnashing his teeth as he planned his next move.

[100 words]

To read the series, click here

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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