THE CHIEF’S DAUGHTER (03)

PART 3: Deeper into the Forest

The forest was still dark when Asha and Kito opened their eyes. They had barely slept. Their minds were full of fear after hearing the warriors walking close to their shelter last night. Birds had not yet started singing. The cold wind passed between the trees, and the smell of wet leaves filled the air. From high up in the tree, Kito carefully looked down. He didn’t see anyone. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Asha rubbed her eyes. Her back was sore from sleeping on branches. But she didn’t complain. She knew they had no other choice. She looked at Kito, who was checking his bow and arrows, his face serious.

“Is it safe?” she asked.

Kito didn’t answer right away. He looked around again, listening to every sound.

“I think they moved past us,” he said. “But we cannot stay here. It’s not safe anymore. We have to go deeper, where the trees are thicker. That’s where hunters never go.”

Asha nodded. She trusted him. He had grown up in the village, but he had spent many years helping his uncle in the forest. He knew the paths, the dangers, and the secrets. He jumped down first and helped Asha climb carefully. They packed the few things they had—a small bottle of water, some berries, a knife, and a bag made from bark.

As they walked, the light above them grew weaker. The trees became taller and their leaves blocked the sun. Roots twisted across the path like snakes. Every few steps, they heard new sounds—branches breaking, birds flying suddenly, and sometimes a deep growl far away.

“Do you think they are still searching for us?” Asha asked.

“Yes,” Kito said. “Your father will not stop. He wants you to marry that boy from the other village. That marriage was not just about love. It was about power. If you run, he loses respect.”

Asha sighed. “But I’m not a gift to be given away. I am not a bag of maize to trade.”

Kito looked at her. “You are much more than that. And I will never let them take you.”

They walked for hours. Asha’s legs were tired, but she didn’t stop. The deeper they went, the quieter it became. Even the birds seemed to be afraid of that part of the forest. The ground was wet and full of fallen trees. Strange mushrooms grew on trunks, and colorful frogs jumped across their feet.

Suddenly, Kito raised his hand. “Stop.”

Asha froze.

“I smell something,” he whispered. “Smoke. And… meat.”

They moved slowly toward a thick bush and looked through.

There, in a small clearing, they saw bones, feathers, and a black mark on the ground. A fire had been made there not long ago. Someone else had been in the forest. Maybe hunters. Maybe wild men. Maybe worse.

Kito’s eyes scanned the ground. He touched a footprint. “This is fresh. Maybe just hours old.”

“Do you think it’s my father’s guards?” Asha whispered.

“I don’t know,” Kito replied. “But we cannot risk staying close. We have to keep moving.”

They crossed a shallow river, climbed a small rocky hill, and entered a hidden valley. In the middle of the valley was a clean stream, small trees with yellow fruits, and thick bushes around the edges. On one side of the hill, there were caves—dark, deep, and dry.

“This is it,” Kito said, his voice softer. “We can stay here. For now.”

Asha smiled for the first time that day. The place felt peaceful. The stream made soft sounds as water moved over rocks. Butterflies flew around the flowers, and birds returned to the trees. Kito placed his hand on a nearby rock and said, “Even the spirits are calm here.”

They drank water, picked fruits, and began working. Kito used his knife to cut branches and made a simple fence around the area. Asha gathered large leaves and tied them with vines to create a roof between two trees. Slowly, their new home began to take shape.

By sunset, they had a small place to rest, a fire ready to light, and food to cook. Kito caught two small birds with his bow, and Asha cleaned them and prepared them with salt and leaves. They sat by the fire, eating quietly, feeling warm for the first time in days.

But far away, in the village of Mapendo, Chief Gidamu was growing more angry. His face was dark with rage.

“You are all fools!” he shouted at his guards. “You let them escape! You let my daughter run into the forest like a chicken!”

“We followed their path,” one guard said. “But the boy is clever. He knows the forest.”

“I don’t care how clever he is,” the chief growled. “Take the best men. Take dogs. Take anything you need. But I want my daughter back. And bring the boy to me in chains!”

The next morning, six hunters entered the forest. These were not ordinary men. These were the chief’s best. They were silent, smart, and strong. They had arrows with poison tips. They carried big knives and ropes. One of them had a dog that could smell even old footprints. They didn’t shout. They didn’t talk. They just followed the trail.

Back in the valley, Asha and Kito were enjoying a quiet moment. They had cleaned the area, made a fishing trap, and even started building a lookout platform in a tree.

“This place is beautiful,” Asha said. “It’s like the forest made a home for us.”

Kito smiled. “But we cannot relax too much. We are still in danger.”

As night fell, they climbed to their tree bed. Asha lay on Kito’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Promise me something,” she said.

“Anything,” he replied.

“If something happens… if they catch us… don’t let them separate us.”

Kito looked into her eyes. “They won’t. I will protect you. With my life.”

Down below, the fire they had left still glowed a little. Its smoke rose into the sky.

Not far from there, one of the hunters stopped walking. He pointed at the smoke.

“There,” he said quietly. “They are close.”

The others nodded and began to move silently through the trees, their eyes sharp and their hearts ready.

Asha and Kito slept, not knowing that the real danger was now only minutes away.