Year: 1886
The raid came at dawn.
Forty warriors in war paint emerged from the forest, their leader riding a captured horse. Torches flew into the village of Ughoton. Screams filled the air.
This wasn't random. This was a test.
Akenzua received the report within hours. A coastal village burned. Fifteen dead. Thirty taken as captives. The raiders had moved too fast, too coordinated.
"Who were they?" he demanded.
Osarobo spread a map across the strategy table. "Ijaw clan markers on the weapons left behind. But the tactics were wrong. The Ijaw don't use horses."
"Someone is arming them. Training them."
"The British?"
"Or someone who wants us to think it was the British." Akenzua studied the attack pattern. "Either way, we can't let this stand. A coastal village burned means our southern expansion looks weak."
The response had to be swift. Decisive. Visible.
---
The punitive expedition formed within three days.
One hundred riflemen. Twenty cavalry scouts. Fifty traditional warriors for close combat. Captain Agbonmire commanding the river elements. Erebo coordinating overall forces.
Akenzua rode at the head of the column.
"You should stay in the city," Esohe had argued.
"The men need to see their king lead. The enemies need to see their target fight back."
They moved through forest paths, following the raiders' trail. The tracks led south, toward the delta marshlands.
"They're not hiding," Agbonmire observed. "They want us to follow."
"Then we follow carefully. And we hit harder than they expect."
---
The enemy camp appeared on the third day.
Hidden in a mangrove clearing, accessible only by narrow waterways. Perhaps two hundred warriors, with prisoners visible in crude holding pens.
"Reconnaissance shows heavy defenses on the water approach," a scout reported. "But the forest side is less guarded."
"Because they think we can't bring serious force through the swamp." Akenzua studied the terrain. "They're wrong."
The attack plan was unconventional. Agbonmire's river force would demonstrate on the water, drawing defenders to the obvious approach. Meanwhile, the riflemen would push through the swamp on foot, hitting the camp from behind.
"The timing has to be perfect," Erebo warned. "If the river attack comes too early--"
"Then we adjust. Wars aren't won by perfect plans. They're won by adapting faster than your enemy."
---
Dawn of the fourth day.
Agbonmire's canoes appeared at the waterway entrance, drums beating, torches blazing. The defenders rushed to the water's edge, preparing for the obvious attack.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
Rifle fire erupted from behind them.
Akenzua's force had crossed the swamp in darkness, finding footholds through seemingly impassable terrain. Now they poured disciplined volleys into the enemy's exposed backs.
The enemy formation shattered within minutes.
Some tried to flee into the water. Agbonmire's boats intercepted them. Others attempted to fight back, but their spears and machetes couldn't answer rifle fire from covered positions.
By midday, it was over.
---
The aftermath was grim accounting.
One hundred and twelve enemy dead. Forty-three captured. The rest scattered into the swamp, their leadership destroyed.
Akenzua's losses: eleven dead, twenty-three wounded.
The prisoners from Ughoton were freed. Twenty-seven survivors, shaken but alive.
"The clan leaders," Akenzua said to the captured warriors. "Who ordered this raid?"
Silence.
"Someone trained you. Someone armed you. Someone told you Benin wouldn't respond." He walked along the line of prisoners. "I want that name."
One of the captured men finally spoke. "Chief Ombo. The one who signed with the British. He said if we weakened Benin's coast, the Company would reward us."
Ombo. The Ijaw chief who had defected to British protection months earlier.
"So the British are testing our defenses. Using local proxies to probe our responses."
"They wanted to see if you would fight," the prisoner continued. "They thought you would hide behind your walls."
"They were wrong."
---
The return march took four days.
Akenzua brought the captured enemy warriors with him. Not as prisoners for execution, but as witnesses.
"You saw what happened to those who attacked us," he told them. "Go back to your clans. Tell them what you saw. Tell them that Benin responds to aggression. That our weapons are real. That our soldiers are trained."
"And tell them something else." His voice hardened. "Tell them that we're not just defending. We're expanding. Warri will be ours within the year. The delta channels will follow. Every clan that allies with us prospers. Every clan that opposes us..." He gestured at the destruction behind them. "...meets this fate."
The prisoners were released at the border. They disappeared into the swamps, carrying stories of what they'd witnessed.
---
Back in Benin City, Akenzua convened the inner circle.
"The raid was a British probe. They're using local conflicts to test our strength."
"What did they learn?" Esohe asked.
"That we respond quickly. That our rifles work. That our soldiers fight as units, not individuals." He paused. "They learned we're more dangerous than they thought."
"That could be good or bad," Osarobo said. "If they think we're weak, they might delay. If they think we're strong, they might accelerate."
"Either way, they learned we won't be easy prey. That matters." Akenzua turned to the map. "Ombo coordinated this attack. He's operating under British protection. We can't touch him directly."
"Then we touch him indirectly," Esohe suggested. "Isolate him economically. Cut his trade routes. Make his alliance with the British cost more than it gains."
"And we accelerate the Warri timeline. If we control the coast, we control Ombo's access to the sea. His British friends won't protect him if he can't deliver value."
---
The council session that followed was triumphant.
For once, even Akenzua's critics had nothing to say. A raid had been answered. Villages had been protected. Captives had been freed.
"The Oba has shown that Benin will not be tested," Chief Oliha declared. "The expansion policy is vindicated."
Osaro's remaining allies sat in silence. The raid's failure had undercut their arguments about provocation and accommodation.
"Phase Two continues," Akenzua announced. "The Itsekiri negotiations advance. The Ijaw alliances deepen. By year's end, our southern borders will be secure."
The vote was unanimous.
---
That night, Akenzua sat alone with the casualty list.
Eleven names. Eleven families who would receive visitors tomorrow, bringing news of death in service to the kingdom.
Each name represented a choice. A man who had trained with the new weapons, fought in the new way, died for a cause most of Benin still didn't understand.
Esohe found him there after midnight.
"You did what had to be done."
"I sent men to die."
"You sent soldiers to fight. Some died. More survived because of how you led them." She sat beside him. "The old ways would have cost twice as many lives. Spear charges against prepared positions. Honor duels that favored the raiders."
"I know. That doesn't make it easier."
"No. It doesn't. But it makes it necessary."
Outside, the city slept peacefully. Protected by walls and weapons and men who had proven they would fight.
The test had been passed.
The next one would be harder.
But tonight, eleven names would be remembered. Their sacrifice honored.
And tomorrow, the building would continue.