Shu'umar Masarauta Part 2 Complete Hausa Novel

The Burning Agony
 
An unusual fire coursed through her body, rising from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. The torment shook her frame like the pounding of war drums, forcing sweat to gush from every pore. This was not the first time she had felt such pain, but today it was different—like her flesh was being boiled in a cauldron of hot water.
 
She clenched her teeth, waved her hands weakly, and shut her eyes tight. Behind her stood Baiwa Maimuna, fanning her mistress with deceptive calm. With cunning precision, she snipped a strand from the end of her mistress’s braid without being noticed. Quickly, she pierced it into her garment, exhaling in relief—for this act secured her escape from the spell of Fulani Umaima.
 
“Forgive me, my lady,” Maimuna whispered, bowing. “I must hurry to Takawa’s court. Jakadiya will collect your medicine, as you earlier mentioned. I only pray my words have not displeased you.”
 
Her mistress nodded faintly, holding Maimuna’s hand. “When you leave, send Zainaba to me,” she commanded.
 
Maimuna bowed deeper. “May Allah strengthen Fulani’s health and grant the prince-to-be prosperity and long life.” With those words, she slipped away, determined to hide her secret dealings.
 
She quickly summoned Baiwa Zainaba to serve Fulani Babba, then hurried—anxious and glancing over her shoulder—toward Fulani Umaima’s quarters. For Umaima knew their secret. From dusk she had dismissed her servants, awaiting Maimuna in silence.
 
Maimuna entered trembling, collapsing to the ground. “Peace upon you, Fulani, jewel of the palace. Your beauty lights every corner of Masarauta. None can match your glory…”
 
Umaima interrupted sharply. “Has everything been done as planned?”
 
Maimuna smiled, handing her the stolen hair. Relief spread across Umaima’s face. “She even commanded me to fetch the rest of her medicine from the king,” Maimuna added. Umaima laughed coldly, then handed over a pouch of enchanted powder. “Mix this into her food or water. Rub it on her body. Each night you will report to me. Fail, and you alone will suffer.”
 
Maimuna bowed low. “All is yours, my mistress. Your will is my command.”
 
The Medicine of Deceit
 
Maimuna hurried to Jakadiya, who delivered Fulani Babba’s request to Mai Martaba, the king. After long hesitation, the king handed two packets of medicine, instructing that half should be drunk and half rubbed on the body.
 
Returning, Maimuna found Zainaba massaging Fulani Babba’s swollen legs. She presented the medicine, praising her mistress as usual. Fulani Babba’s eyes glowed red like burning coals. “Do as instructed,” she ordered faintly.
 
Maimuna, heart pounding, prepared the mixture as Umaima had taught. She gave Babba the drink and rubbed the rest over her body. Instantly, Babba sighed, a cool breeze seeming to ease her pain. She lay back, comfort washing over her.
 
“Go now, Maimuna. Zainaba, prepare Khadija’s bedding,” she whispered. Yet soon dizziness seized her. Strange buzzing filled her head, and a stabbing pain pierced her belly.
 
Maimuna slipped out swiftly, her role fulfilled. Zainaba, however, eyed her with suspicion. Something in her heart distrusted Maimuna, especially since seeing her twice within Umaima’s quarters.
 
 
Journey into the Forbidden
 
Maimuna returned to Umaima, who revealed her secret chest. Stripping bare, Umaima donned the enchanted robe stitched with symbols in red, black, and ochre, gifted by the sorcerer Bamagujen Dutse. Holding a horn in one hand, she took Maimuna’s palm in the other. Though Maimuna loathed such contact, she dared not resist.
 
Umaima blew the horn three times, chanting the sorcerer’s name. Suddenly, a whirlwind swept the chamber, and in the blink of an eye they stood before a towering white rock glowing under an eternal light.
 
As ritual demanded, they placed their left feet in the pool of blood at the base. A mocking laughter echoed—confirmation of their dark success. Step by step they ascended, until they reached a small kuka tree where the naked sorcerer sat.
 
Maimuna turned her gaze away in disgust, bowing low. “Success forever be yours, my mistress,” she muttered. Umaima strode on without pause, fearless before her master.
 
She washed her face with crimson liquid from a skull, then sat before Bamagujen Dutse.
 
“Welcome, daughter of King Abdul’aziz,” he greeted. Umaima smirked, pride swelling. He studied her, reading her ambition, her hunger for dominance.
 
“You have done well. From this day, your rival and the king himself will know only frustration. She shall never again conceive, nor lie with the king as wife to husband. Not in this life. Now—where are the tokens?”
 
Umaima handed over Fulani Babba’s hair, the king’s hair, grave soil, and dust from an ant-hill. The sorcerer cackled, tossing them into a pot of boiling blood.
 
“We have bound her with incontinence, with forgetfulness, with the stench of rot,” he declared.
 
Maimuna’s heart twisted with pity for her unsuspecting mistress. But bound by fear, she kept silent.
 
Back in the palace, Fulani Babba reeled in confusion, unaware of the treachery enveloping her. Umaima, intoxicated with victory, tightened her grip on Maimuna, demanding nightly reports.
 
Yet shadows of doubt began to spread. Zainaba’s eyes followed Maimuna with suspicion, and whispers of unrest stirred in hidden corners of the palace.
 
For though dark sorcery had been unleashed, no secret in the Masarauta could remain buried forever.