SHADOW OF THE MAKEI
Part Three of Chronicles of the Pride Lands
by John Burkitt and David Morris
LEGAL NOTE
This original copyrighted work is based on Walt Disney’s feature film, “The Lion King.” Elements taken directly from “The Lion King” are the property of The Walt Disney Company. “Shadows of the Makei” is distributed free of charge excepting reasonable distribution costs. Quoting passages from our work, writing original pieces based on our work, or using characters we created is fine as long as you secure prior approval. That begins by sending either of us a copy of the work. Our e-mail addresses are
John H. Burkitt: john.burkitt@nashville.com
David A. Morris: damorris@wilmington.net
Your comments on our work, pro and con, are always welcome. We have been asked about our legal note. This is our official response: “The copyright is maintained solely to prevent patently vulgar or lewd misuse of our characters. Most any work, including parodies would be fine as long as it meets certain reasonably broad standards of decency. We reserve the right as copyright holders to define and change those standards. None of these standards is meant to force the applicant to be consistant with the literary style or plot of the original work.”
The characters Akase, Isha, and Malaika are the property of Brian Tiemann. Used with permission.
This story is a fictional work, but we don’t claim that any resemblance to any characters living or dead is purely coincidental. With love and respect, we acknowledge the debt we owe to those who taught us how to laugh and cry. Without acting as clear models for any one character, many great souls, some non-human, have been woven deeply into the fabric of our lives only to end up in “Shadows of the Makei.”
FOREWORD BY THE AUTHORS
“Chronicles of the Pride Lands” and “The Spirit Quest” shine like jewels on black velvet. A pair of beautifully cut gemstones that gleam with their own inner light, showing us hope, promise, and happiness. And like all jewels, they have many facets, many faces in which one can peer and percieve a distinctly different view of the world. Most are pure and clear, offering a unwavering view of what should be. And there are others which are flawed, offering an uncertain picture as to what the future might hold for us. And then there are those that are dark, giving nothing, promising nothing, and leaving us filled with doubt.
Yet what makes the jewel so beautiful? Perhaps it is the sparkle we see, the contrast of light and dark impressing itself on us. For what is the darkness without the light to give it shape? And in turn, what would the light be without darkness to give it definition? This is the very essence of the jewel. And this is the center of “Shadows of the Makei,” that glimpse into the flawed darkness of one facet that makes us percieve the beauty and clarity of the light all the more.
David Morris, Wilmington, North Carolina
December 15, 1996
As many ideas pulled from Chronicles of the Pride Lands appeared in The Spirit Quest, many ideas pulled from Spirit Quest appear here. These are different views of the same world. As such the works are complimentary but do not heavily overlap. This work is a separate story, but it would be vague and difficult to understand if you had not read Chronicles first, then Spirit Quest.
This work contains a lot of dark, frightening imagery. But it is not a work about dark, frightening things, any more than the Christmas Story is about finding a room in Bethlehem. Those who concentrate on the dark miss the point. We all have our source of strength. We all have the right to tap into that strength. If you learn anything from this work, perhaps it is this: prayer is not a measure of last resort but rather a first line of defense. Do not cower in the shadow of a Makei when you can step into the light.
John Burkitt, Nashville, Tennessee
December 15, 1996
PROLOGUE
“So fair and foul a day I have not seen.”
— SHAKESPEARE: MACBETH: ACT I
From everlasting to everlasting, the Circle of Life rolls on, encompassing all beings from the tiny termite to the tall elephant. It permeates them, entwining itself through their physical forms of Ma’at into their essences, the Ka itself. It is a stream, whose current binds all of Aiheu’s children together and sweeps them gently toward him.
But there are rocks in that stream. Rocks that resist the flow, stirring up eddies. And some of the larger ones create still pockets where all manner of unwholesome things grow tucked away from the tides of change.
Two leaves were swept downstream. One slipped safely by the rock. One spiraled in the eddy, being pulled toward the rock where helpless it felt the first signs of decay taking hold in the stagnant pool of its confinement. It looked below and saw the sludge of withered leaves that lined the bottom, those who had lost forever the power to float. That’s when the despair took hold, and it rarely struggled against its fate as it sank lower and lower into the water.
On the quiet savanna a meerkat was standing guard while his neighbors were enjoying a sunbath. Suddenly a shadow passed over the ground and a chill wind swept him. The guard looked around but saw no one. He glanced up, expecting a large bird of prey, but there was none. With growing horror he watched the shadow amble along the ground with no owner and he trembled. As soon as he could find his voice, he yelled, “All down! All down!”
Within seconds, all of the meerkats had taken refuge in their burrows including the guard who huddled next to his wife and young, shivering too violently to explain. The shadow of a makei had fallen upon the land.
But the dark ka of Melmokh was not after them. Slowly, stealthily he approached young Taka, the son of King Ahadi. Melmokh had followed him since the kingdom was promised to Mufasa. He fed off Taka’s heartbreak as a jackal shredding the warm flesh from a kill.
Melmokh felt his wandering days would soon be over. Driven from love and joy by an agony he could not understand, he sought peace among the angry and the grieving. He sought to harness Taka’s pain, drawing strength from it while it was still fresh.
“If I’m not careful, the child will soon forget his misfortune,” he thought. “I must strike while the prey is weakened. Something that will not cripple him, only shame him… Maybe a scar, perhaps?” He trotted ahead of Taka and looked back over his shoulder appraisingly. Taka’s eyes were soft and bright and beautiful. “An eye. Yes, an eye! It would freeze the hearts and turn the stomachs of the females. They would stare at it—they couldn’t HELP but stare at it!” Melmokh laughed coldly. “Be careful, little cub! Accidents can happen!”
CHAPTER 1: SISTERLY DEVOTION
“Lend your light to anoint my eyes, Great Mother of us all! Open my eyes and let me see the wonder of your works! There is the mountain, lofty and noble, capped with snowdrifts jasmine white. There is the restless meadow grass. There is the crash of mighty thunder, and the whisper of a heartbeat. Who shall place a value on these things? Who shall understand your heart, O Mighty Roh’kash? One like you whose heart is full of love, and whose feet walk the true path of righteousness.”
— TRADITIONAL HYANNIC MORNING PRAYER
Wind fingers fondled the golden savanna grass as pup voices of giddy joy bubbled from the hyena den. Shimbekh gamboled out, with her sister Kambra close behind. They rolled in the friendly grass, sparring and wrestling in a flurry of high spirits. Their muti (mom) looked out of the burrow, a tolerant smile on her kindly face. “You know it’s time for your nap.”
“Aw, Muti! Can’t we play just a little while longer?” Shimbekh asked. She put on her best long face.
“Don’t show me those Gazelle eyes, young lady! I know all the tricks. And don’t go plotting something with that sister of yours. I can’t hear your thoughts, but I’d know that look anywhere.”
“What look?” Kambra thought.
“I don’t know,” Shimbekh thought back.
“Do you think she can really tell?”
“Let’s see.” Shimbekh looked at her muti right in the eyes and concentrated.
“Oh no you don’t!” her muti said with a laugh. “I know when you’re up to something, and you’re up to something! Guilty thoughts left their tracks all over your face!”
She seized Shimbekh by the scruff of the neck and hauled her into the den. Kambra followed dutifully. There would be no reprieve from nap time.
Life for the hyena pups was as warm and soft as the fur on their muti’s side. Muti would keep them clean and well fed, and Maleh (Dad) would tell them wonderful stories of midnight hunts under the silver moon. Giddy games melted into quiet naps, and always the love and care of their parents hovered around them like a warm hug. In those days, there was food enough for everyone, and each new day was an exciting step on the trail to adulthood.
Nature was their companion on the trail, working wonderful miracles that the jaded call “growing up,” a term that falls far short of the mystery and beauty of life unfolding. Very soon, too fast for their okash (mother), they had outgrown the den and spent their days in rough and tumble games. The naps soon ended, at least the enforced ones. Short puppy legs began to grow at an alarming rate. Shimbekh teased Kambra about her sticklike legs, heedless of the changes that were sweeping her own body.
A dry season scorched the grass into submission, then a rainy season turned the dry fields to mud. From the healing drops sprang new life. Antelopes and wildebeests grazed on the new grass. Some prospered, others lost their hold on this world, leaving sustenance for the clan. Shimbekh and Kambra availed themselves of the abundance, giving up their muti’s milk forever, and with it their brief hold on infancy. Time had passed.
As their strength of muscle and sinew developed, so also grew their mysterious and wonderful link with the spirit world and with each other. Other feelings were growing as well, awakening thoughts that were both frightening and exciting.
It began as an idle curiosity about the opposite sex. Then in timid stages it finally blossomed into a healthy desire to find a mate and found a family.
Like everything else, the sisters began this search together. After spending time looking over some of the young males, usually more amused than impressed, they concluded that the clan was about the worst place to find a husband! This only changed when they checked out Gur’bruk, a fine up-and-coming male.
Kambra thought to Shimbekh, “Boy, I could sure sneak away with HIM and be his play toy for an hour or two!”
Gur’bruk looked around and his eyes half closed. He thought back, “You name the place, Sweetcheeks.”
Her eyes grew large. “He heard me!”
His eyes widened. “She heard me!”
Shimbekh began snickering. “Way to go, play toy!”
Gur’bruk smiled and winked, and without a word he raised his chin and strutted away.
“Handsome AND a mystic!” Kambra gushed, following him with her eyes. “And with hips to die for!”
That was no mere puppy infatuation. Kambra fell for Gur’bruk and soon he heartily returned her love. They would sit for long moments, gazing deeply into each others eyes to taste the love that flowed freely between them like water from a crystal spring. Indeed, they rarely spoke aloud, but they shared everything, including the plan to share one path through this life and beyond.
Shimbekh could feel the beauty of his love for Kambra, and she longed to rub slowly along his warm, strong body and kiss his finely chiseled face. But her love for Kambra restrained her. She often hid when she saw Gur’bruk coming so her eyes would not betray her feelings. And yet her pain was not lost on Kambra or Gur’bruk.
Kambra felt badly about it. She went out of her way to spend extra time with her sister, trying to soothe her aching spirit and recapture the fun of childhood games.
In return, Shimbekh promised Kambra that nothing would come between them, wishing her a happy life and many strong pups. Shimbekh meant what she said, but Kambra looked beyond her words to feel her frustrated longings. Kambra nuzzled Shimbekh and said, “If I ever die, you must take care of him. Promise me you will.”
“Oh Kambra!” Shimbekh nuzzled her back. “You must never die. Don’t even say it, Sis.”
CHAPTER 2: ILL TIDINGS
Kambra’s ears twitched. She bowed her front legs and wagged her tail playfully. “Come get me if you’re big enough!”
Gur’bruk laughed. He sprang forward, flailing at her with his paws. Kambra blocked him with effortless skill, seeking an advantage. The moment she saw an opening in his defence, she bounded up and put her forearms around his neck, trying to force him to the ground.
Gur’bruk and Kambra were so in tune that their contests ended in draws. Still, Kambra managed to catch him off guard, and with a mighty shove of her back legs pushed him to the grass where she pinned him, panting and laughing.
“Let me up!”
“No!”
“Let me up, Kambra! You won, all right?”
“It’s not that simple. Do you want to surrender?”
“What are your terms?”
“Does it matter? You’re stuck.”
“Good point. So how much is this going to cost me?”
She gazed into his beautiful hazel eyes, then rubbed his face with hers. “You beautiful thing, I want to bear your children.”
“I’ll have to think about that,” he said with mock coldness.
He took advantage of her momentary surprise, and with a quick thrust of his paw easily pushed her off. She fell to the grass and looked up at him pleadingly. The time for games was clearly over.
He gently nuzzled her recumbant form as she lay in the grass, then he settled down next to her with his head resting gently on her side. “Kambra, why ask me for something you already have? You know my heart is yours. It’s only a matter of time till you have the rest of me.”
“When, Gur’bruk? When?”
He laughed softly. “You name the time, my little play toy.”
“Oh Gur’bruk!” She reached lovingly with her paw and began to fondle his handsome face and neck. “Is tonight too soon?”
She looked at him quietly for an answer, and his feelings were clear to her. She drew comfort from his warm affection and held him close to her. “What did I do to deserve such happiness? I love you so much. More than life itself!”
He smiled and closed his eyes. “Kambra, our love is life itself. I was born on the day you first loved me, and I will die on the day you stop.”
“Then you will live forever.”
The boughs of the acacia tree hovered over them protectively, dappling the lovers with light and shadow. A mild wind caressed them with its cooling embrace, and they soon drifted into a contented sleep. Theirs was a happiness without blemish. As the poet La’kresh said
Look to me only with your heart Let no outward guise of earth Hide the purity of my love.
Time consumes, the grass may wither But we shall spring up with the rains Before the feet of Roh’kash!
Suddenly a hot wind from the east swept over them like an angry hand. Kambra stirred and opened her eyes. She saw her sister Shimbekh approaching, her gait burdened with sadness and her eyes dark with worry.
Quietly, gently, Kambra eased out from beneath Gur’bruk’s head and pillowed him lovingly in the soft grass. She ran on silent pads to intercept Shimbekh.
“Sis, we were in the middle of our nap. Can’t this wait?”
“Come with me.”
Gravely, Shimbekh slinked away out of hearing range. She led Kambra into the shadow of some bushes.
“Now what’s wrong? You look terrible, Sis.”
Shimbekh looked away, afraid to meet Kambra’s eyes. “I love you, Kambra. If the wild dogs came, I would be first in line to die for you.”
“And I would die for you. But you didn’t come out here to talk about dogs.”
Shimbekh took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I just had an awful vision.” She hung her head. “It’s so terrible!”
“Is it Gur’bruk? Is he in danger?”
“Not Gur’bruk.” She kissed and nuzzled Kambra. “Sis, forgive me!”
“Well, out with it!”
Shimbekh moaned. “If you marry Gur’bruk, you will bring forth a son who will be the downfall of our people.”
“What??”
Shimbekh bent her head lower and moaned. “Sis, believe me! I have carried this thorn in my heart for hours—hellish hours when I wished I could die, just die! I could not bring myself to speak it, but if I am silent I will betray my own people and you as well!”
“Shimbekh, you’ve had a nightmare. That’s all!” Kambra kissed Shimbekh and smiled coyly. “Everything’s going to be fine, Honey Tree. Don’t you think I would have been warned? Why would the gods put that burden on you?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps you couldn’t believe it.”
“I DON’T believe it—it’s just a dream! That’s all it could be, for it doesn’t make sense.” Kambra began to pace around nervously. “Gur’bruk is good, and our love is pure and deep. Our children will be born from love, raised to love and follow God. I’m sorry to see you upset you, Sis, but I’m going to marry Gur’bruk this very night.”
“But you can’t! Oh gods, you just can’t!”
“Shimbekh! I just can, and I just will. Now I know how you love Gur’bruk, but he does not love you! I’m very disappointed in you, Sis—I didn’t think you would try something like this, not with your own sister!”
“It’s not my jealousy speaking! I swear! Oh gods, how I wept over this—wept tears of blood!” She rolled miserably on the ground. “Kambra, I love you, and I want you to be happy, even if it is with him! Look in my eyes! Look and see for yourself!”
Kambra studied Shimbekh’s eyes. Her hard set jaw relaxed and her expression changed to concern. She nuzzled Shimbekh.
“I’m sorry I doubted you. I believe you had a bad dream, and I believe it seemed very real. But you must understand that it’s your love for him talking. I don’t hold that against you, really I don’t.”
“But it’s not a dream! I was awake! You have to warn him!”
Kambra became cross again. “Look here, Sis, you better not breathe a word of this to ANYONE else, ESPECIALLY my Gur’bruk.” She tried to calm down. “Wait and see our children. You’ll see. If there was some danger, love could overcome it. Now we’ll be doubly sure to love them every chance we get.”
“I know what I saw!”
Kambra raised up sternly. “Go home, Shimbekh! Leave us alone!”
“I love you, Kambra!”
“I love you too, but right now I’m upset. Go, Shimbekh! Go home!” She bared her teeth. “Go home before I say something I’ll regret!”
“I’m scared, Sis.” Shimbekh slinked away, sobbing. “Please don’t hate me! Please! I’m so scared!”
CHAPTER 3: INNER TRUTHS
Shimbekh trudged home despondently. She was afraid to go to her parents with such a strange tale of prophesy and doom. Besides, if there was the slightest chance she was mistaken, she would not want them to know. Even if she were not mistaken, she would not want to break their hearts.
There was only one source of comfort left to her. Since she was a small pup, her spirit guide had never let her down, though she had never relied on a spirit for companionship. She needed to ask him about the vision, and she was angry with herself for not consulting the him before upsetting Kambra.
Sitting alone by the den she had once shared with her sister, she stared off into space, looking at nothing in particular. “Urikh hom dalem,” she said. She began to chant it repeatedly. “Urikh hom dalem, Urikh hom dalem…” The words meant, “Anoint my spirit,” but they began to lose meaning as the chant washed away the tracks of her troubling thoughts, blending into a sleepy surf breaking upon a mystic shore where time and space had no meaning, and there was only the Eternal Now. “Urikh hom dalem. Urikh hom dalem. Urikh hom dalem…”
Before long, she had fallen into a receptive state. A golden mist surrounded her.
“What would you see today?” the voice asked.
Her jaw began to quiver. “You.”
“Me? Do I sense idle curiosity, Shimbekh?”
Tears flowed down her cheeks. “No. I’m so alone! I have no one else to turn to! Please tell me your name. Let me see you.”
“Are you sure? I mean, wouldn’t it remove all the mystery?”
“Who needs more mysteries? I don’t know what’s real anymore!”
“All right, but you may be disappointed.”
Something began to materialize from the mist. At first there were two bright spots in the haze which formed into hazel eyes. Fear shone in those eyes, the fear of becoming vulnerable. But Shimbekh plead with those eyes, and her gentle coaxing brought out a face—and soon the body—of a hyena.
“Oh!”
“Well, I’m Brin’bi,” he said shyly. “You were expecting something spectacular, and you got me. See, I told you that you’d be disappointed.”
“No, not at all!” Shimbekh smiled shyly. “I like you much better that way. I can talk TO you, not AT you.” She looked into his soft eyes and felt kindness flow from him the same way it came from Gur’bruk, only this kindness was hers. She wanted to touch him, but wondered if she could—or should.
“You may try,” Brin’bi thought to her. “I don’t know what you’ll feel.”
She abandoned spoken language and let her thoughts fly freely to him.
“I think you look beautiful, Brin’bi.”
“Well, uh, thanks. So do you, Shimbekh. So beautiful, and so sad. You really need a friend.”
She almost cried. “Can you stay for a while?”
“I have all of eternity.” He yawned as if to prove the point and settled into a sphinx. “So Shimbekh, you’re on the outs with your sister, are you?”
“Brin’bi, tell me it’s not so!”
“Honestly, I don’t know. There are forks in our path, but I believe we choose to go left or right.”
“Then you can’t tell me what to do?”
“I can only give advice. Remember how much you love your sister, and whatever happens, be there for her. That always works.”
“I’d do anything for her.” She sighed. “I’m so depressed thinking about this. Let’s talk about you for now—please?”
“About me? What’s there to talk about?”
“Dozens of things! How old are you? Do you have a home? How did you die? And are you a real hyena, or just taking that shape to please me?”
He smiled. “Does my shape really please you? That’s the way I used to look. I was born near this spot. I was almost your great grand-okhim till I caught a hoof between the eyes. I never even felt pain.” He sighed. “I guess I went left where I should have gone right. As for where I live, I guess this is my home now. And since I became your spirit guide, you’re the closest thing I have to a steady date.”
Shimbekh smiled. “I like that. Why don’t I consider you my steady date too?”
Brin’bi broke into an embarrassed smile. “Why not! When my friends ask me what’s happening, I’ll have something worth reporting.” He laughed softly with a beautiful laugh that made his eyes shine. “This will help my reputation, being seen with a pretty female.”
“Am I really pretty?”
“No. You’re really beautiful—that goes deeper.”
Shimbekh smiled. “I feel much better now. Thanks so much.”
“For what?”
“For being my friend. And for just being you.”
CHAPTER 4: THE UNION
Kambra married Gur’bruk that night beneath a full moon, which all agreed was a sign their love was eternal. Indeed, all who knew them felt inspired by the depth and purity of their joy. And all were happy for them except Shimbekh.
Kambra’s muti asked, “Where’s your sister?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think she was feeling well.”
“Not feeling well? I don’t have the gift, but I can always tell when you’re not being honest with me. Guilty thoughts leave tracks all over your face.”
Kambra nuzzled and kissed her. “We had a little disagreement, that’s all. Tomorrow we’ll rub and make up.”
“Well I hope so. She should have been here anyway. That’s not like her.”
The next day came, and the sisters did not make up. Kambra immersed herself in Gur’bruk’s affections, trying not to think about Shimbekh, and he respected her wishes. And so for days Shimbekh’s name did not pass between them. Still, in her private prayers, Kambra would beg Roh’kash to heal her sister of her strange madness in long, tearful missives uttered lying on her back.
Shimbekh, once so happy and carefree, spent her days in prayer and fasting. Before long ribs began to show under her once sleek coat. When anyone asked her why—and few ever did—she would predict the downfall of the clan. Only Brin’bi had the patience to hear her words of desperation again and again. He was all that held her together during those lonely days.
Kambra watched her sister’s suffering, and her heart was pierced by the haggard, unkempt ghost that haunted the fringe of the clan. For the longest time, she was afraid to confront Shimbekh again. But the sadness inside her grew until it could no longer be hidden away or denied its wish. With a deep sigh and a faint heart, Kambra stepped in front of Shimbekh and tried to paw her face.
Shimbekh pulled back. “So you remember who I am?” she said disparagingly.
“Let there be no more ill will, Sis. I came to tell you I am with child.”
Shimbekh’s anger was forgotten. Tears of grief came to her eyes. “So happy, my dearest Kambra? Oh gods!”
“Sis, you’re not well.” Tears came to Kambra’s eyes. “Come with me, honey tree. I have a fresh kill nearby. Don’t you want to eat something?”
“How can I eat? Everything I love is being destroyed right before my eyes! Kambra, love your daughters, but by the blood of Roh’kash, you must not allow a son to live. Your son will torment you and bring destruction upon us!”
“Are you going to start that again??” Kambra started to scold her once more, but she stopped and looked in Shimbekh’s eyes. Such misery cried out through them that she shuddered.
Shimbekh wept again. “I love you, Sis. I want you to be happy. You know I do. If I could break the curse with my own death, I’d be glad to die. You do still love me, don’t you Kambra?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I love you.” She shook her head balefully. “I don’t know what foul spirit brought this madness, but there’s no truth in it. Gur’bruk wants a son and I will give him a son if Roh’kash wills. Someday you’ll forget that dream, but I can’t afford to wait that long.”
Shimbekh fell before Kambra and rolled on the ground. “Oh gods, Sis, you don’t understand! He’ll put a thorn in your heart! He’ll destroy you and Gur’bruk! He’ll take away your happiness!” She panted, her gaunt and fragile body strained close to the breaking point. “I’m trying to help you, Sis! Promise me you’ll at least pray about it!”
Kambra shook her head. “You’re mad! You’re stark raving mad! Pray, Shimbekh. Ask for Roh’kash to heal you. I’ve prayed for you every night, and I’ll pray with you now if you like. Come, kneel by me, Sis, and we’ll fight this thing together!”
“No!! Poor fool, you’re the one that has to fight this thing!!” Shrieking in torment, Shimbekh ran into the bush.
She ran straight to Roh’mach Amarakh who listened sympathetically as she related her wild-eyed prophesy of doom and darkness. Amarakh loved Shimbekh and was worried about her—most everyone was—and she was glad to find out what was wrong. But she knew Gur’bruk and Kambra too well to see any harm in their love.
“What do you want Kambra to do? Kill the child? Because you say you saw a vision?”
“I DID see a vision. We have to do SOMETHING. We can’t just sit on our haunches and watch our world swept away!”
Amarakh nodded. “I agree. I will keep my eyes on this situation. In the meanwhile, do nothing. Do you hear me, Shimbekh? If you act on this further without my assent, or speak to anyone of this talk, I will be VERY upset with you and you will be looking for another clan. Understand?”
“Oh, I understand, Roh’mach. You think I’m mad—so does she. But just you remember when night falls on our people that I warned you before the sun set! I warned you!”
CHAPTER 5: SUNRISE
Gur’mekh and his sisters Bath and Mer’bel were born to a beaming Kambra. She fondled them and looked deeply into each of them with her inner vision. Bath and Mer’bel continued to take their first meal at her warm side. But Gur’mekh stirred and looked at her with unseeing eyes. Even on his first day, there was no doubt about it—he had the gift. Gur’bruk looked at his son with wonder, then he nuzzled Kambra. “They were born as the sun rose. It is a good sign.”
“Are you happy, okhim?”
“Yes, okash.”
Gur’bruk climbed out of the den, up into the morning sun. As he looked east bathed in crimson light, the morning breeze swept his body, fondling his ears and crest. He threw his head back and cried out in his unbridled joy. “I’m a father!” he shouted in common speech. “I’m the luckiest person alive!”
“So you’re a father!” an ostrich cried, surrounded by a flock of a dozen small, squabbling chicks. “The novelty soon wears off.”
Lost in his reverie, Gur’bruk watched the enormous disk of the sun climb into the purple sky, gilding the acacias and turning the grass to flame. In an ecstasy of thanksgiving, he uttered his morning prayer
“Lend your light to anoint my eyes, Great Mother (Roh’kash) of us all! Open my eyes and let me see the wonder of your works! There is the mountain, lofty and noble, capped with snowdrifts jasmine white. There is the restless meadow grass. There is the crash of mighty thunder, and the whisper of a heartbeat. Who shall place a value on these things? Who shall understand your heart, O Mighty Roh’kash? One like you whose heart is full of love, and whose feet walk the true path of righteousness.”
Never before and never again would that traditional aubade feel so much like whispering fresh love words right into the ear of God.
On a sadder note, Shimbekh was not allowed to be present at the birth for fear she might do something desperate. It was the one blemish on an otherwise perfect morning.
CHAPTER 6: HUNTING PRAWNS
Time passed, and Kambra’s pups grew to the age where they could come out and meet the pups from other litters.
Bath and Mer’bel liked to play with young Jalkort and Fabana. But Gur’mekh had little patience with those who could not hear his thoughts. The one exception he made was for Lenti, a female that he was infatuated with. Lenti could have cared less about him or his puppy affections. Gur’mekh held even his own sisters in mild disdain, preferring to stay home and hang on his Muti and Maleh.
Gur’bruk was afraid his son would not learn the social skills he needed to rise in the clan and find a mate someday. And so reluctantly he told Gur’mekh to go play with the others and not to come back home till Bath and Mer’bel returned. “You need to get out of the den and stretch your legs! Now go be a good boy, OK?”
Gur’mekh was not upset. He resented the enforced “play” but knew his maleh’s gesture was meant well. He trudged off to try and amuse himself alone, maybe to find a springhare a or meerkat to chase.
He saw Lenti and Demrath wrestling. For a while he stopped and watched their struggle until slowly but surely Demrath won.
“Hello, Lenti! Why don’t you try me?”
“Demrath won. You’re supposed to play the winner.”
He drew close to her and whispered, “I bet he won because you let him.”
“I did not,” she said very indiscretely. “He won fair and square!”
“Shhhh! He’ll hear you.”
She drew close to his ear and whispered, “Wanna know a secret?”
“Yeah! Who’s it about?”
She looked around and then whispered in his ear. “You. I hear on good authority that Lenti doesn’t want to play with you. She doesn’t even like you.”
Gur’mekh hung his head. “That’s not funny. Why don’t you like me? I just want to be your friend, and all you do is dump on me.”
She sighed. “Look, Gur’mekh, if you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone, OK?” Lenti turned and trotted off with Demrath.
Gur’mekh plodded off, his head hung low. Preoccupied with his own problems, he walked right into Shimbekh’s side.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” he said, but he thought, “I bet she thinks I’m an idiot.”
“No I don’t,” she thought back.
“Hey, you heard me!”
Shimbekh smiled. “What’s wrong, Gur’mekh? Your maleh put you out of the den?”
“Yeah. Who are you?”
“I’m your Aunt Shimbekh.”
“That makes you…”
“Your muti’s sister. Does she ever mention me?”
“I’ve met my Aunt Zari and Uncle Der’brukh. I didn’t know my Muti had a sister. Why don’t you ever come by?”
“I really want to, but not today.”
“When?”
“We’ll talk about that later. Since you have nothing better to do for a while, why don’t we go chase prawns in the creek and get to know each other?”
“Yeah, sure!”
From that point on, Shimbekh tried to keep her eyes from meeting his. A desperate plan was going through her mind, one she tried not to think about for fear that it would betray her motives to the pup.
They took a long route to avoid the eyes of the others. It would not do to have others identify her as the last one to see Gur’mekh alive. Eventually they ended up at a deep place in the creek, deep enough to suit her needs.
“Maybe you’ll get your first prawn,” Shimbekh said. “Mmmm, yeah!”
“Are they good to eat?”
“The best. But you have to know where they like to hide.”
Gur’mekh waded into the cold stream, raising his paws high with each step to avoid the chilly water. “Where are they?”
“They live under the rocks. You have to turn them over.”
“Oh.”
Gur’mekh dipped his whole muzzle in the cold water, pushing up a rock with his nose. A prawn skipped backwards, using its tail to flee along the bottom. He smacked at it with his paw and missed, only wetting his underside. “Darn it! They’re fast, Aunt Shimbekh!”
She laughed—a forced laugh that her heart was not in. “You have a better chance in the deeper water.”
“I don’t swim—very good.”
“That’s all right. If you get in trouble, I’ll come after you.”
Gur’mekh waded out until the water lapped at his shoulders. He reached under with his head, pushing up a stone. Between the efforts and the current, his paws lost their hold on the slippery rocks.
“Hey!”
He struggled to right himself, but the current pushed him into deeper water where his feet could not touch the bottom.
“Help! Aunt Shimbekh!”
Shimbekh’s jaw trembled. Her heart began to pound. If Roh’kash willed him to live, than live he shall. If he were to die…
“Help! Aunt Shimbekh, help me!”
She watched the pup that could have easily been her son slide under the water. Sputtering, Gur’mekh broke the surface to gasp in a breath and release it in a yell for help. “Oh gods! Auntie Shim…”
Shimbekh’s maternal feelings yelled for help as well. She sprang up and ran along the bank. “Hold on! I’m coming!”
“Help!”
His small body slipped under the surface. Shimbekh jumped into the water, frantically paddling to his side. She groped around in the water till she found him, then gripped the nape of his neck with her teeth and held his head above the water. He gasped, his eyes wide with fear.
She got him to the bank. Sitting him down, she fell to her side and began to sob. “Poor little boy! Oh gods!”
“Auntie Shimbekh,” he sputtered, coughing.
“Are you all right, honey tree?”
“Yeah. But I don’t like prawns.”
“I know honey. I don’t like them anymore myself.” She began to groom him, tears rolling down her face. Holding him desperately to her with a paw, she stammered, “I was so scared that I’d lose you! No more fishing till you learn how to swim. From now on, you don’t get in deeper than your knees, understand?”
“No problem!” He looked at the water and shuddered, half with cold, half with fear.
“We’ll go hunt you a nice springhare. Would you like that?”
“Yeah! Let’s go away from here!” He leaned against her as they walked. “Thanks for saving me. I love you, Auntie Shimbekh.”
CHAPTER 7: HOPE AND FORGIVENESS
Shimbekh tried not to think of her plan. For all her doubts, one thing was certain—she could not kill a pup. Maybe it WAS the will of Roh’kash that Gur’mekh live. She had to confront her doubts—the warning might have only been a dream.
Shimbekh relaxed and enjoyed their time together. They hunted springhares, played rough and tumble games, told stories and even took a walk to the termite mounds. But more importantly, she looked into his eyes and saw there the gift of his parents. Love flowed into Shimbekh like fresh water from the mountains. Love deep and pure that made Gur’mekh and all he did seem beautiful and holy. And he drew love from Shimbekh, for she had it in abundance.
“Promise we’ll always be friends,” Gur’mekh said.
“I promise it, you little scamp.”
Mid sun had come and gone. As the afternoon grew old, Shimbkeh headed home with Gur’mekh in tow. He was wild about her, and as soon as she lay down to rest, he went to nap with his head on her side the way Gur’bruk once cuddled on Kambra. She reached down with a paw and fondled his face and neck. “You’re a little Gur’bruk,” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “He lives in you. May Roh’kash guide your steps little one, and keep you from trouble. Sleep, my love.”
Shimbekh felt a deep, crushing guilt for the trouble she had stirred up. Only she did not know how to apologize, or even if her sister would believe her sudden change of heart.
The afternoon slipped quietly into evening, softly deepening into a wistful shade of azure. Kambra was worried when Bath and Mer’bel came home and said that they had not seen Gur’mekh all day. She was worried and went right out to search for her little boy.
A nagging doubt ate away at her, and drove her to look first at her sister’s home. “Please God, let it be OK. Please, Roh’kash, let him be fine!”
She saw Shimbekh with Gur’mekh snuggled to her side. Terrified, she reached out with her thoughts to see what Shimbekh was planning.
She concentrated with all her might, but she found nothing but love in her sister, a love that overpowered all her suspicions and bathed old shadows in its healing light. Kambra breathed a sigh of relief, then came running to Shimbekh to wake her with a kiss.
Shimbekh looked up into the smiling beauty of Kambra’s face. “Sis!” Tears of joy began to stream down her face. “Please forgive me. I want to I want to be family again—please?”
Now it was Kambra’s turn to cry. “Come back with me. I want you to meet Bath and Mer’bel. Muti and Maleh have been going crazy over this trouble. Oh, honey tree, I’m so happy!”
CHAPTER 8: STICKS AND STONES
Taka yawned, then sat up, blinking at the bright light streaming into the cave mouth. He ambled over to the entrance, squinting. The pain in his left eye still made him wince, but it was better than it was two nights ago.
Looking about, he spied Sarabi and Elanna having fun while Yolanda watched them comfortably from the shade of an acacia. Little Tameka came up behind Yolanda, making the supreme effort to leap over her, but collapsing in a heap on her back.
Taka laughed. “Look at the little frog!”
Sarabi looked around. “Hey, Taka! Are you OK? Wanna play tag?”
Taka ambled over slowly and sat down. He sighed deeply. “I can’t. Rafiki said I have to stay out of the dirt for a week till my eye gets better.”
“Why?”
He stuck his lower lip out in a pout, trying to imitate Rafiki. “Keep da eye clean Master Taka or id’dll get een-FECK-ted.”
“Now Taka,” Yolanda purred with a mild hint of reproof. “Rafiki is only trying to help. You should appreciate what he’s done, saving your eye, and giving you all those herbs for the pain.”
“I know. I’m just bored, Aunt Yolanda. I can’t do nothing!”
“You can’t do ANYTHING.”
“Yeah. That’s what I said.” He scrached some dust up with his back paw and harumphed. “Stupid old badger! Why did he have to scratch my eye anyway! All I wanted was his stupid blessing! I mean, he could have at least faked it or something!”
“Getting angry doesn’t change what happened,” Yolanda said. “Besides, he died for his crime. You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”
“You always take up for the ones that act bad,” Taka complained.
“You’re right, you know. Remember the cub that got in trouble by the watering hole? I said I wouldn’t tell on him if he tried to act better.”
Taka looked down, embarrased. She nuzzled him gently and he rubbed along her side. “Yeah. I guess it works both ways.”
Elanna brightened. “Hey! We can play ‘King’s Command!’”
Sarabi perked up. “Yeah! You don’t have to get dirty to play that.”
Taka looked at Yolanda. “Can I?”
“Sure, I think so.” She nuzzled him gently. “Go ahead.”
“Yeah!” The cubs gamboled off to the shade of some nearby bushes. They lined up in a rough group.
“Who’s gonna be the king?” Elanna asked.
“Let Taka do it!” Sarabi said.
“I’ve never done it before,” he said, looking down. “I’m not sure I know how.”
“That’s ‘cause Muffy always gets to do it,” Elanna said. “But he had to go to see Rafiki this morning. His stomach was hurting cause he ate too much last night.”
Sarabi giggled.
“That’s NOT funny, Sassie!” Elanna elbowed her sister roughly. “Cut it out!”
“Okay, okay. But it’s not the first time. One of these days he’s going to explode!”
“I’ll do it!” Tameka said.
“You’re a girl,” Sarabi snorted. “You can’t be king. I still say Taka ought to do it!” She smiled at him beguilingly. “For me?”
“Okay. Uhh, lessee…” He squinched his face in thought, then grinned. “King commands you to raise your right forepaw.”
The girls complied. “That was easy,” Elanna said.
A gleam appeared in Taka’s eyes. “King commands you to put your paw down.” They did that too. He grinned, and continued. “King commands you to wave your tails.”
They did, Sarabi giving hers a little flick at the tip each time she waved it.
“Stop waving your tails.”
Sarabi and Elanna kept waving, but Tameka dropped hers.
“Gotcha!”
“Aww, come on!”
“The king didn’t command,” Taka smirked. “You’re out, Tameka.”
“Phooey!” She growled, scuffing sand angrily with a forepaw. “I don’t care! Mufasa’s going to be the real king, anyway; he wouldn’t trick me like that!”
“Come ON, Tameka,” Elanna said sharply. “Just wait till we’re done, then you can try again.”
“I don’t want to play anymore!” Tameka glared at Taka furiously. “I don’t want to play with YOU anyway, you little one-eyed freak!”
There was stunned silence as Taka’s chin began to tremble. “I am NOT a one-eyed freak!” he stammered. “You take that back!”
“Freak, freak, Taka’s a freak! He thinks he owns the world, but he’s just a snotty-nosed one-eyed cry baby!”
“STOP IT!” Taka shouted, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. “Just ‘cause I got cut doesn’t make me a freak! At least I’m not a stuck-up prissy butt like you!” He sprang up and ran, a wailing cry trailing out behind him as he fled across the rocks and vanished behind an outcropping.
Tameka fell silent, looking down in shame. Elanna looked stricken, but the anger left clear tracks on Sarabi’s face. She got up and slowly walked over to Tameka. “You’re the little snotty-nosed freak! You’re just lucky I’m a lady, or I’d rearrange your face!”
“I didn’t mean to make him cry. I just got mad. You understand, don’t you? I mean, he can be so—”
Yolanda meandered over. “What is going on, here?!”
Sarabi growled, startling Yolanda. “Tameka made fun of Taka’s eye ‘cause she got out! She called him a snotty-nosed one-eyed cry baby and a freak!”
Now it was Tameka’s turn to sniffle as the lioness glared at her. “But I didn’t mean it! I was just mad!”
“You go inside, young lady.” Yolanda said softly but firmly. “I’ll talk with you later.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Yolanda stroked Sarabi with a paw. “Calm down, honey tree. Tell me where he went.”
“That way, toward the cistern.”
Yolanda padded quietly around the side of Pride Rock. Pride life was communal, but lion cubs, like other children, need some places to be alone from time to time. The cistern was an ideal location.
Even before Yolanda could see him, she knew where he was. She could hear Taka’s gentle sobs, and her heart sank. He was sprawled on the edge of the spring, paws over his face. “Honey tree,” she purred, drawing near and nuzzling him.
“Go away!” He sniffled loudly. “Leave me alone!”
“Come on, honey tree. It’s Yolanda.” She licked him with her warm, moist tongue. “Shh, it’s all right.”
“It will never be all right.”
“It will take some time, my child. But never say never. Tameka is very sorry she hurt your feelings. She really wants to make up, and she will apologize.”
“You should have seen her,” Taka said, shaking. “She hates me!”
“Nobody hates you. Tameka has a temper, but she also has a big heart.”
“There you go again.”
“Yes. Taking up for those in the WRONG. And honey tree, she was in the wrong. Having that scar doesn’t make you a freak.”
“Oh yeah? I saw how you looked at me the other night. You think I’m ugly. You think I’m a freak, just like everybody else!”
“Oh, hon!” Yolanda’s eyes stung. “I didn’t think you were ugly! I think you’re beautiful!” She began to groom him. “When you love someone, really LOVE them, you get all knotted up inside every time they get hurt. If I came back from the hunt limping—let’s say I had a broken leg—how would you feel? Would you think I was ugly? A freak? Would you hate me?”
“Oh no! Never!”
“Or would you maybe take in a deep breath and say something like, ‘Oh my gods, what happened to your leg?’”
Taka looked at her in stunned silence. He swallowed hard and tears—compassionate tears—welled up in his eyes. “Do you really love me, Aunt Yolanda?”
The lioness took him by the scruff of the neck and padded over to a corner. She laid down, setting Taka beside her and grooming him. “There are lots of people that will say they love you lots of times. Then there are people who get off their haunches and show you.” She filled his fur with the scent of lioness love. “How does the eye feel, honey tree?”
“It still hurts, but it’s getting better.”
“Good. Now come on, Your Majesty. After your bath, let’s see if I’m still as good at ‘King Commands’ as I used to be.” She grinned mischieviously. “I betcha you can’t get ME out.”
Taka grinned back. “Betcha I can!”
She laughed warmly. “You’re on!”
CHAPTER 9: PROMETHEUS UNCHAINED
The hyena pup Fabana was napping with her family, when suddenly she felt a paw nudge her shoulder.
“Fay,” someone whispered. “Fay, are you awake?”
She grunted and shifted. One eye came open. “Who wants to know?”
“It’s me, Jalkort.”
She whispered, “Oh. Hi, Jal.”
“Let’s go play.”
“I can’t right now. Muti says I have to take my nap.”
“No one’s going to mind—if we don’t get caught.”
Jalkort was her best friend. She didn’t have to think long before she made her decision, rising up carefully and sneaking away from her family.
If her parents had caught her, she would have been in a lot of trouble. Humans had been sighted nearby, and everyone was in a state of heightened alert. Fay had been warned many times not to go off without permission.
“We don’t have long, Jal. They won’t sleep all day, you know.”
“Oh, we’ll be back in plenty of time. Now you’re it!” Jal tapped her and ran.
“Not fair! I didn’t say ‘start’ yet!”
“OK.” Jalkort came trotting back and stood next to her. “Say it now.”
“No you don’t! Stand over there first.”
“Over here?”
“Further back.”
“Now?”
“Further back!”
“Geez, I’m not a wildebeest! What do you want me to do, migrate?”
It was the dry season. In the human camp, an unattended campfire shot out a coal that crossed the ring of rocks and fell in the grass. A small trail of smoke went up, then with an almost shy beginning, the first flame sprang up, greedily consuming the first tuft of grass, then looking around for more.
The rabid flames quickly infected the grass with a fatal fever, overwhelming the golden shafts and turning them into blackened ash. A light wind fanned the flames which spread rapidly over the savanna.
High above, a hornbill spotted what appeared to be a large black thundercloud, then stopped in flight, turning back toward Pride Rock as fast as he could go with the news—brush fire!
A dead acacia stood in the way, but it was soon overwhelmed by the destructive tide. It soon turned into a giant torch, raining limbs of golden light.
Some Thompson’s gazelles were trying to get some good out of the dying grass. They looked up and saw the wall of flame coming. In a panic, they sprinted away. “Fire! Fire! Get out!”
The choking, blinding pall of smoke dimmed the sun and the searing heat was enormous. Some sleeping hyenas were nudged by the Roh’mach.
“What the…”
“Brush fire! Get out while you still can!”
The father looked around and quickly spotted the smoke. He looked in the other direction where escape should lie, but there was more smoke. “Get up, everyone! Up, up!! We have to get out of here!!” He looked around desperately. “Where is Fabana??”
Fabana was hiding from Jalkort. She wondered why it took so long for him to find her, since hyenas had a keen sense of smell.
She looked out. “Jal? Jal!”
That’s when she saw the flames spreading all around. She forgot the game and thought about her family. “Muti! Maleh! Oh gods!”
A zebra went galloping by madly, then balked at the flames and reared up with flailing hooves. She was nearly trampled by his hooves.
“Muti! Maleh!”
Like a predator, the flames sought to surround and drive their victims. Most head toward the river and safety. In the mad rush, Fabana could not tell which way led back to her parents. She ran around in the confusion looking for some sign of her family.
At Pride Rock, young King Ahadi stared at the gray cloud with anxiousness. Zazu landed next to him, but by the time he had reached his King, the message was too obvious.
“It’s sheer panic, Sire. The jackals will feast tonight.”
The wind shifted the progress to and fro, and blowing sparks that spawned new fires in its wake. Vultures had already began to gather, looking for victims.
A meercat pushed past Fabana in a mad desire to escape, then encountered a fresh wall of flame. He ran around in circles staring wide eyed at nothing in particular, shouting, “We’re all going to die! Oh gods, we’re all going to die!”
Flames had surrounded Fabana completely. Perhaps the meercat was right. And then suddenly bounding over the flames came Fabana’s okhim (father) who grabbed her up by the scruff of her neck in his strong jaws and took off running.
He plunged through the flames, ignoring their hot embrace. Picking out the best routes, he managed to jump most of the flaming ground and come through unhurt in a deadly game of hopscotch. Then finally he saw freedom behind one remaining wall of fire. There were no easy routes, so closing his eyes he plunged directly into the fire. The swirling flames hurt Fabana’s nose, the tips of her ears and her eyes. She reached up with a paw to ward off the heat.
Finally they burst through on the other side. Her okhim dropped her quickly with a loud yelp. “Run!! Run quickly!!”
Fabana looked back and saw her okhim become a living torch.
“Maleh! Oh gods!”
“Go!” he screamed. “Run! Run!!” He staggered a few steps, then fell into a crumpled heap, jerking spasmodically. For a moment she stood rooted to the spot. She would draw in a breath and shriek, and do it again. “Maleh!! No!!!”
Finally her fur began to singe. She had the presence of mind to turn away from what was left of her okhim and head away from the flames. She ran sobbing and howling across the ash, raising small clouds with her feet and getting soot in her nose and mouth.
Too late she saw some game wardens with shovels and picks trying to outflank the fire before it consumed their camp.
“I wish I could wring the bloody poacher’s neck! Three elephants weren’t enough—he had to burn up the whole damned place!”
One of them said, “Look at that!” Large hands circled her, and before she can snap at them, they rubbed her behind the ears gently. “There now, fellow, it’s going to be all right.”
“What are you going to do with it, Ed?”
“We’ll see.”
Fabana strained to look through the flames. “Okash!” she yelped. Then she began struggling frantically and crying, “Muti, Muti!!!”
“You’re a loud little bugger, aren’t you! Hey, It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Muti!!!” Tears came to her eyes. “Muti!!!”
CHAPTER 10: YOUNG GUR’MEKH
Gur’mekh had a powerful gift, one that could have been used for great good or evil, but could not be ignored.
While Shimbekh or any of the priests would have been happy to teach him to control that power, Gur’mekh had plans of his own.
“I will not spend my life telling lovesick young bak’rets which male to pursue! I will not sit around on my haunches telling others where to find the best hunting!”
Gur’mekh felt that his powers carried an awesome responsibility. He often said with pride that through him would rise up a great race that would take second place to no one, not even the lions. And to those he trusted, he would describe a puphood vision of standing on the promontory of Pride Rock. “It is my destiny. I must prepare for it with heart, mind and body.”
When he was hungry, Gur’mekh and his adolescent friends would raid the Roh’mach’s private cache of food. They knew they would be safe, for Gur’mekh could feel a guard coming and escape.
He was a braggart and a manipulator. His perception of others’ thoughts gave him the power of effective flattery and effortless lies. His friends would say that he could charm the feathers off a weaverbird and get handouts from a cheetah. His enemies said similar things, but their language was less flattering.
Though Gur’mekh felt himself superior than his associates, he spoke kind words to them, telling them what they wanted to hear with ease. So he was idolized by the ragtag group that ran around with him, particularly young Jalkort who thought the moon and sun rose solely for Gur’mekh.
Gur’mekh actually loved Jalkort, for Jal’s heart was noble and unselfish, and he believed in the greatness of Gur’mekh’s ideals. To Jalkort, every liberty Gur’mekh took was justified by his great goals.
Once Gur’mekh was angry because Jal was late for the hunt, and he began fuming and complaining to the others. But someone told him that Jal was out hunting him a rabbit for him. Gur’mekh was silent and waited patiently until mid-moon for Jal to come proudly bearing his “surprise.”
“I’m sorry I was late,” Jal said, depositing a fat hare at Gur’mekh’s feet. “The other one was too scrawny. I wanted to get you a good rabbit.”
Gur’mekh looked into Jalkort’s eyes and saw the love there. “My brother,” he said, nuzzling Jalkort, then tearing into the small carcass with more pride than hunger. And from that moment on, Jalkort and Gur’mekh were always referred to as “the brothers.”
Everytime something disappeared, eyes would turn to follow Gur’mekh, but no matter how they tried to trick him into admitting guilt, he sidestepped them and always had perfect alibis for himself and his friends.
As he grew older, Gur’mekh’s ambitions rose from simple mischief to power mongering. He wanted a position on the ruling council. Prestige appealed to him, and he had an eye to one day becoming the next Roh’mach. And there were suspicions that his desires reached even higher. To his friends that seemed only natural for the founder of the master race. To them, the world owed him a debt it could never repay by any other means.
He applied to Memnekh for a position on the council. When the old female asked him if he had studied, he replied, “Yes, diligently.”
He listened to her thoughts and every time she asked him a question he would quote back the expected answer. She nodded her head each time, but frowned at him.
“Did I do well?”
“You did too well. I always expect one or two errors.” Memnekh grumbled, but she had to give him the benefit of the doubt. And so he entered the Clan Council under a cloud of suspicion.
Gur’mekh used the thoughts of his enemies and of his prey against them. He could corner better in a hunt than hyenas with three times his age and experience. He could anticipate moves in a fight and rethink his strategy. He was a great hunting master, and assumed the position with a clear right to it. But though he brought in steady meals, everyone was afraid of him.
Actually there was one hyena who was not afraid of him. He was very mentally disciplined and a formidable foe. Demrath, son of Ber. Demrath was a philosopher, great in a fight but even better in an argument. And though he was not gifted psychically, he could best Gur’mekh in either kind of struggle. Just how bitter that strength was hated only became clear to Gur’mekh when Demrath began dating Lenti, the object of his childhood infatuations.
CHAPTER 10A: LOOKING FOR LOVE
Gur’mekh loved Lenti. If he had to choose between her and all his other grand dreams, he would have had a hard decision indeed.
Lenti had never liked Gur’mekh, but he determined to do something about that. He exhibited his usual flattery, guided unerringly by his psychic sense, but it rarely got him more than a begrudged ‘oh, hello.’”
Lenti was rarely impressed by flattery, and Gur’mekh’s reputation had preceeded him. A shy and quiet sort, she resented Gur’mekh’s attentions. She only loved the quiet and thoughtful Demrath.
One evening Gur’mekh stood just few feet from her bed as she settled down for the night. He regaled her in his fine voice with words from La’kresh
Come celebrate the moonlight with me, dear Entrust your magic to my vigilance And I shall watch over you
Who shall worship your perfect beauty And wait upon your good pleasure As I have done in vain my darling
Stars abound in the vault of heaven But far more beautiful than they Are the eyes of my beloved!
Cruel is death for the unloved Who never knew the kind response To their grand remonstrations
Come to me with willing heart And let our passions be as one Pledge to me and stir my very soul!
Lenti came to him and smiled. “Very good, Gur’mekh! You memorized that whole poem just for me!”
“I was hoping you’d like it.”
“I do. I’m crazy about it. You’ll have to perform it at my wedding. Demrath likes poetry too.”
“Demrath?”
“Yes. If I needed an excuse not to marry you, it would be him. I suggest you give up now before he finds out you’re making passes at me. He’s the jealous type.”
This angered Gur’mekh, especially because Demrath was so well liked, and most people thought Demrath would be Roh’mach when Amarakh retired.
Gur’mekh decided that he had sold himself short. “If she does not like my praise, what WOULD she like?”
The next day he followed her at a distance, and when he finally got the chance to speak with her alone (and that was not easy) he strolled to her casually to avoid suspicion.
She sighed in disgust. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Well, aren’t we discrete!”
“I’m sorry. Hello, Gur’mekh. Nice weather, isn’t it? Well, I have errands to run…”
“Your small talk is as good as your manners.” He cleared his throat. “Look, I need you to do a personal favor for me, OK?”
“That depends on what it is—and if you’ll leave me alone for a change.”
“It’s nothing naughty, and yes, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of today if you’ll help me.”
“OK, you’ve made it worth my while. What’s on your mind?”
“I have this problem with my eyes. I think I’m getting cataracts, but I need someone with sharp eyes to see if they’re clear.”
“Why don’t you go to the healer?”
“She doesn’t like me. I don’t think she’d tell me the truth, and if she did, she wouldn’t want to help me.”
“I don’t like you either. Not that it stops you from reciting erotic poems to me in the middle of the night.”
“At least you’re honest. Please, Lenti. You don’t want me to go blind, do you? I mean, you’re getting to marry the one YOU love. You’re set for life. Why should you wish more harm on me?”
“I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. Sure, I’ll look in your eyes if you promise to behave yourself. This isn’t one of your tricks, is it?”
“If it was, would I tell you?”
“Yes. I believe you would. Bluntness with bak’rets is your one good trait.”
“You’re refreshingly honest.”
“But why here when were alone? That’s what I don’t understand. I know you’ve been following me all morning.”
“I don’t want anyone to know if I’m going blind. Surely you can understand that? And I don’t want Grou’besh to have the satisfaction of knowing I’m worried.”
“She is a bit of a prig.” She smiled and laughed, something that made Gur’mekh light up like the full moon. He admired the light of her ka that shone from her gentle face, and it took all his strength not to melt in front of her.
Lenti came close and looked into Gur’mekh’s deep amber eyes. “They look fine to me. I really don’t see…”
“Look harder.”
“Oh!”
She froze, her gaze locked into his, staring straight ahead as Gur’mekh fondled her soul, violating her privacy.
“I can see now. You don’t like people who talk too much or brag about their accomplishments. You like quiet males that are good listeners. You like gentleness and shyness, but not TOO shy.” He touched her cheek with his paw, and she gasped. Drawing close until his nose almost touched hers, he searched her with his eyes. “You think I’m shallow, that I have no deep feelings or tenderness. You don’t think I’d ever show my vulnerable side. Now tell me, what is your favorite color?”
“Blue,” she stammered. “Sky blue.”
“You are surrounded by blue. It is filling you like the heavens. It is covering your memories, covering over our little talk. You try to remember looking into my eyes, but it was only the blue, the sky blue. Close your eyes and count to eight, and when you open them, I’ll be gone.”
Lenti shut her eyes, unsure why she felt the need. A few seconds later, her eyes opened. She felt a little disoriented, and shook her head.
She wandered around aimlessly for a while, trying to remember where she was headed. Gur’mekh encountered her.
“Hi, Lenti!”
“Oh, it’s you, Gur’mekh.”
He smiled gently. “You looked a little distracted. Thinking of Demrath?”
“Uh, yes.”
Gur’mekh blossomed into a warm smile. “He really loves you. I would have given anything to make you my wife, but I’m glad you found someone that will make you happy. If he doesn’t treat you right, tell me and I’ll come thrash him.”
Lenti smiled shyly. “Why that’s very sweet, Gur’mekh!”
“I have a personal favor to ask of you, Lenti.”
“Well that depends on what it is, and if you’ll leave me alone.”
He hung his head. “You don’t really mean that, do you? I mean, I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
“Well I…” She was confused and a little ashamed. “What’s the favor, Gur’mekh?”
“We’ve never been really good friends. I know a lot of it is my fault. I’m painfully shy.”
“You??” She laughed.
He hung his head. “Please don’t laugh. I try to hide it. Too hard. I drive off all the really good people like Ber and Demrath. I think if Ber would even say hello to me, I’d shine like the sun. But they all think I’m shallow and callous.” He drew near to her. “I’d give anything for a second chance. Please, Lenti, when you are a respectable married lady, you will speak to me once in a while, won’t you? Or maybe ask Demrath to let me hunt with him once in a while?”
“Why Gur’mekh, I had no idea!” She looked at him appraisingly. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll bring it up. If you weren’t in trouble all the time, I’d have a much better chance of success.”
“I only do those things to fill the hole.”
“What hole?”
“Forget it. You’re just trying to be nice.”
“I’m just trying to understand. Stop speaking in riddles.”
Gur’mekh’s jaw quivered and his eyes misted up. “Lenti, there’s only one thing I’ve really wanted out of life, and that’s happiness. I’ve been denied happiness, so I seek my pleasure where I can find it. Someday it will catch up with me, but till then it gives me a reason to go on living.”
He looked away from her, but she walked around to face him. “Why Gur’mekh, you’re crying!”
“Don’t stare at me!” He turned again and burst into tears. “I don’t need your pity! Forget I said anything, OK??”
Before she could reply, Gur’mekh ran out. He scrambled up the ridge and into the small cave that served as his home. Balling up in the back corner, he began to sob brokenly.
A couple of minutes passed, then predictably Lenti’s quiet tread mixed with his crying. “Gur’mekh?” She nudged him. “Gur’mekh??”
“Oh, it’s you, Lenti.”
“I want you to understand that my heart belongs to Demrath. I don’t think of you as a lover, only him. But I see no reason why we can’t be friends. You, Ber, Demrath and I. Maybe I can even get my parents to meet you. IF you behave yourself for a while and stop these pranks.”
He looked up at her and wiped his eyes. A meek smile began to warm his features. “I’d like that. Don’t worry, I’ll be good.”
“And you could settle with being my friend? You’d understand where to draw the line in this relationship?”
He tapped his lower jaw with his paw. “Yeah. But it’s OK for me to be a LITTLE jealous of Demrath, isn’t it?”
“Well, just a little.” She smiled. “How do you feel?”
“Much, much better. Thanks, Lenti. You know, from now on, I’m just going to be myself. If my friends don’t like me for who I am, then they aren’t really my friends.”
“That’s the spirit! Make a clean break with the past, Gur’mekh. And someday you will find what you’re after. I just know it.”
She smiled, nodded, and trotted away to find Demrath. And as soon as she was out of hearing range, Gur’mekh’s mouth curled into a large grin. He chuckled.
“If Demrath wasn’t around, I’d be here to pick up the pieces, my darling little Lenti. He’d want some nice husband taking care of you after he was gone. Someone like—well—like me!”
Gur’mekh was determined to fulfill his great destiny. He saw Demrath as the largest obstacle in his way. He needed a way to overpower him so he could work on the Roh’mach herself and finally turn his gaze to Pride Rock. And standing by his side would be Lenti.
CHAPTER 11: BLISS BY PROXY
With crushing heartbreak, Gur’mekh watched as Demrath and Lenti pledged to each other in a public ceremony. Sildresh watched her only son take the vows, deeply stirred. Gur’mekh was also deeply stirred, but to bitterness.
The other hyenas, who all liked Demrath, felt they had just witnessed a beautiful event. Gur’mekh only saw that his chosen one—the one he would have made Grand Emperess of Pride Rock—was marrying his most hated enemy! Clearly she did not deserve him or the empire, but it was too much for Gur’mekh to put behind him. He determined that one way or the other, he would take his share of happiness.
On the evening of their wedding, Gur’mekh followed the newlyweds to their private sanctuary. What he planned would have made Demrath to fight him to the death. For hiding out nearby where he could hear them, Gur’mekh laid down in the grass. Gur’mekh closed his eyes and quietly mouthed, “Lend me your thoughts, Demrath. Lend me your feelings, Demrath. Let me see through your eyes, Demrath. Let us be one, you and I.”
He concentrated until he went into a deep trance. Though his eyes were closed, he could see Lenti’s face through Demrath’s eyes. She was gazing on her husband with mixed joy and shyness.
“Lenti!” Gur’mekh uttered. After a few moments, a smile came to his face. “Oh yes, Lenti!” He took in a deep breath and let it slowly out. With a grunt of pleasure, he rolled over on his back, shedding his own identity to feel more clearly the intoxication of the moment. He chuckled and said, “I bet your boyfriend Gur’mekh is biting his leg over this!”
“Shame on you!” she said. “I really feel a little sorry for him.”
“Sorry? For him?”
“Sure. He’s always wanted the one bak’ret he can’t have. There are a dozen others who’d give their whiskers to get him behind the bushes.”
A fleeting smile came to Gur’mekh’s face. “But not you?” he mouthed.
“No. I said I felt sorry for him, not that I loved him. I only want you. I’ve always wanted you. Now don’t stand there on your wedding night and talk about Gur’mekh! Come to me, darling! You’re my husband—make love to me!”
Gur’mekh pushed anger to the back of his mind as Demrath rubbed full length down Lenti’s side. He gasped, abandoning himself to a passion that made him drunk with joy. The corners of Gur’mekh’s mouth began to twitch, and his paws trembled. “I love you, Lenti!” he murmured.
“Beloved,” she sighed, swept away by a passion Gur’mekh had only dreamed of, a passion that he could sense but not possess.
“Oh gods, can you feel me tremble!” Gur’mekh shuddered and stifled a cry of passionate fulfillment. The episode felt like an eternity, but in moments it was over. Suddenly his eyes opened and he looked around, expecting to see her beautiful face and feel her lithe body next to his. But he was alone, terribly alone, looking up into the cold sky. He found himself mired in a deep abiding emptiness and, for the first time in his life, very ashamed of himself.
“Never again!” he hissed. “Someday I will have her to myself, but not this way! Oh Gods, I feel so awful!”
Gur’mekh slinked home, more determined than ever to settle his score with Demrath. “Bite my leg indeed! Pfah!! At least Lenti had the decency to pity me!”
But the more he thought about her pity, the more angry he became. “When I’m Emperor of Pride Rock and the world bows before me, she’ll BEG me to make love to her! She’ll beg me just to NOTICE her!” He sniffed in contempt. “And as for YOU, Demrath, we have an appointment to keep.”
CHAPTER 12: CAVE CANUM
Later, when Fabana had grown into a fine young bak’ret, she was tied up outside.
There were many exciting new sights, sounds and smells. She could see the sky again, and it was good. But some of the sensations were not so good. She smelled smoke and saw a campfire. That wakened a vivid and terrifying memory. She could almost hear her father’s screams again and see him thrashing on the ground, a living torch. She backed back from it to the other end of the rope and huddled, weeping in terror.
Fielder, the dog, addressed her in common speech. “What’s the big deal, Spotty?”
“Fire,” she said, shuddering. “We’re in danger! We have to get away!”
“Fire is our friend when it’s controlled. It brings light and heat. You’d know that if you came from civilized folk.” He turned to face away from her. “Faah! Hyenas are nothing but ignorant cowards—and they smell.”
She stared at him blankly, then when he laid back down, she curled up and shivered again. Never since the fire had she felt so alone. Thoughts turned to her home on the savanna. “Do you still think of me, Muti? I still think about you.” She sighed. “I wish you were here right now. No, I wish I were there. I wouldn’t wish this place on anyone. The dog hates me. Ed’s all right I guess, but he’s gone all the time and leaves me behind.”
“Do you always talk to yourself?” Fielder grumbled. “My Uncle started talking to himself when he got old. They took him out behind the tents with the bang stick and put him down.”
“Down where?”
“Killed him, you idiot. That’s what they do around here when you’re old and useless. Oh they called it ‘putting him out of his misery,’ but what they really meant was putting him out of Ed’s misery. He wasn’t miserable, just inconvenient to have around.”
“Oh gods!” Fabana curled up tightly, putting her paws over her eyes and ears and moaned. She tried to push out the realization by shoving it from her head. Of course, it did no good. “Maleh protect me! Roh’kash, deliver me! Chew through this rope, Great Mother! I want my Muti! I want to go home!”
“You are home. Get used to it. And stow that whining while I’m trying to nap!”
In the days to come, Fielder never grew to like her, though he came to tolerate her. When Ed had guests, which was not very often, they would always be pulled out back to see Fabana. Some would hide behind small boxes with eyes that flashed like lightening. Fabana hated the purple spots they left in her eyes, but came to bear the inconvenience them because the humans would usually kneel afterwards and rub her with words of endearment. She came to understand a few of those words with some degree of certainty. She attracted attention the way the dog never could, though the dog tried to put on a show and get some of the attention and extra treats that came her way. Frankly, Fielder was jealous of all the extra attention she got. And he racked up part of it into his prejudice against her and her race.
It was not always pleasant. Ed thought hyenas smelled too, and he would subject her to the indignity of a cold bath in an aluminum washtub that left her reeking of soap. Sometimes it would rain, and she would have to stoically endure it, tethered to that hated peg, while Fielder retreated to his warm, dry shelter. But far worse was the occasional sound of the free hyenas who would cry out in the night as they hunted. They awakened longings in her that could never be satisfied on the end of a rope. It was on those long, lonely nights that she first plotted her escape.
CHAPTER 13: TROUBLED WATERS
Sarabi and Elanna couldn’t decide if they would rather run or fight, so they did both, laughing as they gamboled through the grass, pawing at each other in quick swipes. Sarabi feinted, and Elanna ducked, reaching out and catching her sister with a quick jab of her forepaw.
Sarabi yelped and tumbled to the ground.
“Gotcha!”
Sarabi did not answer.
“Sassie?”
Elanna listened but heard nothing. She panted hard as she pushed through the tall stems and looked at her sister lying motionless on the ground. Her eyes were open, staring blankly ahead. Her chest did not rise and fall. Elanna nuzzled her sister gently. “Sassie? Are you OK?”
Sarabi remained still, and Elanna nuzzled her again. “Sassie? Sassie?? Oh my gods! Sassie, wake up!”
Sarabi swatted her. “BOO!!!”
“Oh gods!” Elanna ran in a tight circle, her eyes wide and her tail fuzzed out. “How DARE you!”
Sarabi laughed, pounding the ground with a paw. “What a face! You should see yourself!”
“That’s not funny!”
“Wanna bet??”
“I thought you were hurt!” Elanna glared at her crossly. “I was worried about you, you big jerk! You shouldn’t have scared me like that. It wasn’t very nice.”
“Sorry,” Sarabi pouted. She got up and shook herself thoroughly. “I was just playing, Lannie. I’m sorry.” She walked over to her sister and nuzzled her. “Friends?”
“Yeah.” Elanna nuzzled her familiarly. She got up and made off through the grass slowly, Sarabi alongside. “So what’s the deal with you and Taka?”
Sarabi’s ears fell back. “Huh?”
“I saw you two making gazelle eyes at each other the other day.” Elanna giggled to herself. In a low voice, she began to sing softly to herself
I once saw two cubs a-walking through the grass One was named Sarabi; a sassy young lass The boy was named Taka, a handsome young cub The two went out to play one day and fell in love!
“E-LAN-NA!” Sarabi stared dumbfounded at her sister as Elanna rolled through the grass, convulsed with laughter.
“Oh, come off it, Sassie; you’re almost nine moons old, for crying out loud. Everybody knows who you’re going to pledge to, anyway, so why be coy about it?” Elanna shook her head, grinning.
“Oh yeah? Well how about the way you were staring at Muffy yesterday?”
Elanna’s grin fell. “What ABOUT it? That’s different.”
“I saw you, girl! ‘Oh, Muffy, you’re so big and stuh-RONG!’” Sarabi batted her eyes. “When he snarled, you almost fainted!”
“That was a roar!”
“Mm-hmm.”
“It was!”
“Yeah, right. So tell me, are you expecting?”
“Expecting what?” In a moment it dawned on her. “Ooh! I’m gonna GET you for that!” Elanna sprang, missing as Sarabi evaded and ran away, laughing so hard she nearly stumbled. The two tore across the grassy plain, ascending the lower slopes of Pride Rock in a tawny blur, nearly knocking Uzuri and Yolanda down as they passed.
“Slow down!” Uzuri bellowed after them. “Watch where you’re going!”
“Oh, they’re still kids. Let them play.” Yolanda licked a forepaw calmly.
“Hmph! They’re never too young to have a little discipline,” Uzuri grumped as she lay back down. She cocked her head slightly as Yolanda began to groom her behind an ear, eliciting a deep purr from the lioness. “Those two are just like Avina, I swear. If I ever have children, they’ll be properly behaved, have no doubt of that!”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it, hon. I think you’ll make a marvellous mother.”
“Yolanda?”
“Hmm?”
“Have I ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?”
“Many times,” Yolanda grinned. “Now stow it and lean over so I can get the other side.”
The two cubs were ignorant of this as they continued their high speed pursuit around Pride Rock. Sarabi cut tight around a corner and ran downslope, ducking behind the large cistern where the lions came to drink. Elanna appeared, slowing, looking around carefully. “I know you’re back here, girl.” She sniffed carefully as she fought to catch her breath. “Come out!”
Sarabi did. “BOO!”
Elanna gave a delighted shriek and pounced upon her sister, rolling about and wrestling as she tried to catch Sarabi’s flailing paws in her mouth. Her sister was most uncooperative and wriggled away, heading towards the cave opening at the back of the cistern cleft. “Betcha can’t catch me!” she shouted, vanishing inside.
Elanna stopped short at the entrance. “Uh-uh. I ain’t goin in there.”
“What’s the matter, Sis?” Sarabi’s voice floated out of the darkness. “You scared?”
“Daddy told us not to go in there. And Barata says it’s haunted.”
“Oh gods, you believe that old story? They tell you that so you won’t go in. Don’t be a fool.” Still, Elanna sat planted at the entrance like a bush. “Well, come ON, Lannie.” Sarabi giggled again. “I see it now: Mufasa the Great and his wife, Queen Scaredy Cat!”
“All right, you ASKED for it that time!” Elanna bounded into the cave, her eyes adjusting quickly to the dark. She spied the dim shape of Sarabi bounding away deeper into the cave’s recesses. “Come back here!”
Sarabi ran on for awhile longer, the turned, grinning, expecting to see Elanna’s head poke around the corner, a mishievious smile on her face as she prepared to exact her revenge.
Instead, she saw only inky blackness. “Lannie?” Her voice echoed back to her, harsh and somehow mocking in the cave’s confines. The warm glow of play faded, replaced by the dull chill of the dank walls, moist with condensation. The faint drip of water somewhere behind her and the tides of her breath were the only sounds. “Lannie?”
A faint touch tickled the back of her neck and she screamed, whipping about and striking with her forepaws, feeling the impact as they struck a dark form behind her. A yelp of pain reached her ears, and she froze. “Elanna?!”
A choking sob sounded from the blackness. “Sassie, I can’t see anything, it’s so dark, I can’t find the way OUT!”
“Well, it’s right back…” She bumped into the wall. “I guess not.”
Sarabi knelt in the blackness and nuzzled her sister comfortingly. “Don’t worry, we’ll get out of here. Come on.” She felt carefully around in the dark, until her whiskers detected an opening. Moving slowly, so that Elanna could keep up, she padded through the winding tunnels, pausing now and again to sniff carefully. Time passed in a blur, and she began to wonder if anyone was looking for them.
“Look, Sassie, light! We’re saved!”
Sarabi peered ahead. Sure enough, a faint glow was detectable in the distance. “Thank Aiheu!”
“You said it!” Elanna pushed past her, eager to escape the dreary confines of the cave. “C’mon, let’s get outa here!”
“Wait up!” Sarabi slipped on the damp floor, picking herself up slowly. “Lannie, wait!”
She padded along the tunnel, the light growing around her, but seemig wrong, somehow, a cold, pale light, not the warm yellow glow of the sun. Turning another corner, she emerged into a small room, lit with the same cold light. Elanna stood nearby, a miserable expression on her face. “Guess we took a wrong turn, huh?” she said, and burst into tears.
Sarabi stood awestruck, unable to answer as she stared at the sight before them.
CHAPTER 14: DARK SECRETS
Elanna looked despondently at the shimmering pool of water that lay before them. It stretched across the full length of the cavern, an expanse of water that seemingly glowed with its own inner light. Elanna peered about and realized the light was a reflection from the cavern walls! Nosing them, she broke a piece of something nauseatingly warm and hideously soft off of the rock surface. The smell of the luminescent fungus stung her nose, and she screwed up her face in distaste as she watched the glow die from the piece she had broken. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“Check this out!”
Elanna glanced over at Sarabi, who was bent intently over the pool’s edge, the young lioness glancing up at Elanna as she ambled over. “How deep do you think it is?”
“Who cares?” Elanna snorted. But she had to admit, the pool did look deep. The glow from the walls failed to show the bottom, only reflecting their faces in its weak light. “Who cares about the stupid pool, Sassie? Let’s get outa here.” Elanna stepped away and swatted the dead fungus at her sister.
It glanced off Sarabi’s shoulder and vanished into the pool with a sharp FZZZZT! sound.
Sarabi glanced curiously in the water, which lay undisturbed by the intrusion. “I don’t see it. Where’d it go?” She leaned over the surface, her chin nearly touching the dark water.
“I don’t know.” Elanna moved to stand beside her. Curious, she picked up a pebble between her teeth and dropped it in. The same odd hissing noise issued from the water, and though they strained their eyes until they ached, the saw no sign of it sinking through the depths.
Elanna glanced at Sarabi’s reflection, the only thing she could see in the pool. It lay flat on the surface, undisturbed by the pebble, without even a ripple to mar its perfection.
Then suddenly, it DID move.
The lovely visage of Sarabi twisted and writhed in the pool’s surface, leering and gibbering silently at her, a vision from her worst nightmares. It raised a paw, as if beckoning her to jump in and join the fun, waving its paw.
Horrified, Elanna looked up to see Sarabi extending a forepaw into the water, an enraptured look upon her face. “SARABI!! NO!!”
Sarabi blinked and looked at her. “What?”
“Get your paw out of there!” Elanna backed away, a terrified look on her face. “Get it out NOW!”
An implacable grip seized Sarabi’s paw and began to pull. She gaped down horrified, her claws extending uselessly as she began to slide across the cavern floor towards the edge. “LANNIE!! HELP ME!”
A strangled cry emerged from Elanna’s throat as she ran to Sarabi and gripped her tail forcefully, pulling with all her might, her sister shrieking in pain, the sound echoing off the cave’s walls as she was pulled in opposite directions. Elanna closed her eyes and prayed, sure that Sarabi would vanish into the pool with that same hissing sound, and she would be left alone here with the ghosts that Barata had warned her about, trapped until she starved or until her sister’s ghost returned for her, as she was sure it would, it would return and drag her down too…
Sarabi’s weight shifted as the grip on her paw vanished, sending her flying back to land on Elanna, driving the air from her lungs with a muffled gasp. Scrambling to their feet, the two tore off back into the dark tunnels, running blindly through the blackness, afraid to stop for what might be in pursuit of them.
Presently, they saw light ahead again, and slowed. Elanna padded ahead, sniffing, and suddenly heard a faint voice calling her name. She turned to Sarabi, grinning. “I’ts Mom, Sassie, c’mon!”
The two burst forth from the cave mouth into the warm sunlight, breathing great lungfuls of sweet savanna air as they scrambled past the cistern and upslope to where Avina sat, roaring softly as she called to them. They piled onto her, knocking her onto her side as they nuzzled her affectionately. “Mom!”
“Uff! Cool it, kids! Where have you two been? I’ve been calling you for an eternity!”
“Uhh… we were just playing.” Sarabi dredged up a grin with an effort. “Right, Lannie?”
“Sure!”
“Well, next time, you come right away when I call you. We’re getting ready to go hunting, and I want you two to come along.”
“Yes ma’am.” The two sat quetly until Avina had left. “What happened, Sassie?”
“I don’t know. All I know is I never want to go in THERE again!”
“Me neither. I won’t tell if you won’t.” Elanna shuddered at the memory as the two of them headed away toward the lionesses below. During the excitement of the hunt, the two forgot about the incident, and it was never mentioned between them again. But years later, Elanna would wake in the night beside Taka, shivering, the memory of that capering face dancing in the darkness, unable to return to sleep until the glow of dawn had touched the horizon.
CHAPTER 15: COMING OF AGE
Finally, Fabana reached her first season. She was nervous and restless, as if something was missing from her life. She had long felt ill at ease among humans and their strange world, but this was a different kind of stirring that she had never felt before. The dog, taking note of that, became restless as well and showed a new interest in her. He understood many things that she did not know about growing up.
At first, Fabana had no clue what had sparked his changed attitude. Usually Fielder would not even answer her direct questions. His few words to her had been insulting and demeaning, and when he even said “good morning” it made the whole day noteworthy.
Suddenly Fielder had become chatty, saying how good the weather was for that time of year, and inquiring about her health, and a great many other things of questionable value. He even brought her part of his coveted table scraps in an awkward attempt to curry favor.
And Fielder began to watch her intently. At first Fabana thought it was her imagination, but the dog began to stare more and more often, and for longer periods. Finally, she had to risk a direct question.
“What are you looking at?”
“You, Spotty. You’re blossoming into a fine young lady. I didn’t realize what a few moons would do to you—remember when you were that squalling pup yelling for her mom?
“Vividly.”
“I hate to say it, but I didn’t really like you then.”
“No kidding.”
“It doesn’t always have to be that way, Spotty.”
“My name is Fabana.”
“Whatever. Well—Fabana—you’re a young lady now. It’s time you were initiated into the secrets we grown-ups keep from the pups. You know, kind of like a ceremony of sorts—a rite of passage.”
“Can you do that? I thought only females did the Bak’ret Koth!”
Fielder laughed till his sides ached. “Oh for God’s sake, where DO you come up with these! There are two sexes—male and female, see.”
“Don’t you think I KNOW THAT?”
“Oh—the ceremony!” He laughed again. “Well pardon me!”
Fabana finally understood what was so funny, and she smiled, embarrased.
When he regained his composure, Fielder drew near and said, “You want something, but you don’t quite know what it is. I know what it is, and I can give it to you.”
She tugged at her leash. “Oh, I know what it is I want. And I want it more than anything.” She strained to see the border of her homeland. “Help me please, and all is forgiven. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Trembling with passion, the dog came toward her. “Oh yes. This should be interesting. Just don’t brag about it afterwards, and if it’s good, maybe we can do this again sometime.”
Instinctively, Fabana knew what was about to happen. She bared her teeth.
“Oh, so you like to play rough?”
“Don’t touch me! I didn’t think you meant THAT.”
“Well what DID you mean?”
“I want a way out of here!”
“You do? Well you’re looking at it. But I want something for my trouble. Something you can give me. Come on honey, you’ll thank me later!”
“Don’t do this! I’d rather stay!”
“Your words say no, but your eyes say yes. You’ve never made it before with a male. If you had, you’d want this as much as I do. Maybe we can run away together.”
She began to stammer a prayer she learned in childhood. “Roh’kash ne nabu! Koh’pim ket ra mispa ojkhim!”
The private feelings she had been saving for her husband were about to be brutally exploited. She backed up again. “Please, in the name of God!”
“You will enjoy this. Calm yourself, Spotty. You’re not my first, and I’ll talk you through it. It’s really very simple, and when it’s over, you’ll beg for more. Trust me, honey bunch! Now just you stand still and let me handle the details.”
He started toward her again, and she sprang at him. She reached the end of her rope and was cruelly jerked back. “Leave me alone, Fielder!” she gasped. “Come at me again and I’ll kill you!”
His eyes glowed dully with loveless passion. “I want you, and by the gods I’ll have you!”
She started biting at the rope frantically. The sisal fibers stung her lips and tongue, but the rope did not fray in the least.
Fabana kept backing up further and further, and the dog kept advancing. She bided her time, waiting until he was far enough inside the circle that she could stage her last defense.
“Relax, honey. You can’t run and you can’t hide. So you might as well try to enjoy it. We’re going to have fun. Trust me.”
“I suppose so,” she said, drooping her ears and tail in submission. “Please be gentle.”
“I will. Hey, I don’t want to hurt you. We’re all friends here.”
She took in a deep breath, let it halfway out and held it. Suddenly she leaped at him. This time the rope did not stop her. She had not been trained in fighting, but neither had the dog. She closed on his flank and tore large hunks of his fur out with her superior strength, gripping him with her powerful arms. All thoughts of lovemaking fled from him, and he struggled to break her hold.
She knew she had to finish him. Tied up, she had to remain in that one place, while he could run away and recover, then come back when he had the advantage. If she surrendered to sleep, he would come ready to ravish her or choke off her wind.
She had him pinned where he could barely move, and could not afford to release him. “You’re right,” she growled, “I’m going to enjoy our time together. Now for love’s first kiss!”
She seized him by the throat and bore down with irresistable force. She felt something pop inside his neck and tasted warm blood.
He reached up in his death struggle and scratched down her face.
“Oh gods!” she cried, falling back and rolling in agony. Where there had once been an eye were now four parallel gashes. That side of her world was plunged into darkness and pain. Shrieking and yipping, she clawed the ground. “Roh’kash! Roh’kash!” she yelped. “Ne’b karssit dareh! Krekh toh, Fielder! Krekh toh, kresagit!!”
The dog, his windpipe crushed, crawled off a short way and collapsed, gasping. He stared at her imploringly, as if asking for his breath back. His jaws moved in silent words of terror.
Ed came running over. “What’s the bloody problem with you two??” He looked at the dog, prodded him with his shoe, and seeing his suffering was mortal, took his rifle and pointed it at Fielder’s head.
Fielder’s eyes grew wide. He held out a paw beseechingly.
“Poor wretch,” Ed said, pulling the trigger.
The sound of the shot made her freeze. She looked at the gaping wound and watched the unfortunate body twitch spasmotically. A red tide began to spread out on the ground, and the acrid smell of cordite and blood reached her.
Ed derisively said, “I should have known a stinking hyena would turn on me sooner or later!” He looked back at Fabana. “You made me put down my best dog!”
She dreaded the rifle he still held in his hand. “Roh’kash,” she whined, “I’ve always tried to live a good life. Take my spirit to your side.”
He pulled up the gun and pointed it at her. Fabana whimpered and trembled, cowering on the ground. She waited for death. It never came. He lowered the gun and stared at her eye. The end of the rifle barrel wavered uncertainly. Then without ceremony, Ed bent down and grabbed her by the collar, pulled his sheath knife and held it near her throat. Silently she prayed, “La’kuneh, dear maleh, come for my spirit.” The blade grazed her neck, pricked her, then with a quick upward pull, it bit in two the collar she had so hated.
“Get out, Spotty! Let God be your judge.”
She cowered in terror and could not move.
He picked her up bodily and hefted her toward her old homeland. Then picking up a rock, he stung her flank with a well-placed throw. “Get out, damn you!! If you come back, I’ll kill you!!”
She took one last look at the man that saved her life. She knew where she belonged, and she turned away. Without looking back, she slinked away toward the border of her old home.
CHAPTER 16: ODYSSEUS RETURNS
Fabana had walked for two hours in the hot sun. She was used to pacing a short distance from side to side. The distance to cover seemed almost impossibly vast, and she was weakened by her wound. Her grinding thirst pulled her to the side of the small watering hole she found. Without caution, without even looking around, she stumbled to the bank. Looking down into the water to take a drink, she saw something horrible looking back at her—a face delicate and fresh on one side and hideously scarred on the other.
She was in the middle of her first season, but she knew no male would ever want her. She howled pitifully. “Why, Roh’kash! Why me! I’ve never known the company of a male, and now I’m so horrible!” She collapsed by the bank and sobbed brokenly.
A small group of hyenas heared her and came out of the brush. They wondered who the stranger was. Fabana looked at them apprehensively. “Who are you?” she asked in common speech. “I don’t want trouble. I used to live here, and I’m trying to find my family. Do you know my okash La’kuneh?”
She smelled human and spoke common speech. They wondered if she was truly one of theirs.
“I remember La’khuneh,” the large male said in common speech.
“Jalkort?” She looked at him closely. “Jalkort, is that you?”
“I’m Jalkort. Should I know you?”
She broke into tears. With almost painful reluctance, she said, “Bih hyannicha! Moh keth Fabana!” Gaining strength, she almost shouted, “Bih hyannicha, Jalkort! Moh keth Fabana!”
“My gods!” Jalkort’s tail wagged so hard, his whole back carriage swayed. “Fay! Fay!” He ran forward and kissed her face on the good side. “Barkhal, Roh’kash!” He nuzzled her and rubbed her full length. Seeing the scar, he said, “I’ll rip the devil that did that to you! I’ll rip him alive! Where is he??”
“He’s already dead. I had him in a death choke when the man got his bang stick and put him out.” She tensed up and asked, “How’s Mom?”
Jalkort looked down. “Oh, Fay!”
“What is it, Jal? Is she… ?”
“The fire. I’m so sorry.”
“How about my brother and sister?”
Jalkort nuzzled her sadly. He didn’t have to say a word.
She nuzzled him back, a tear running down her cheek. “Then you’re all I have left. Oh Jal, please lean on me!” When he sat by her, she rested her cheek against his and wept bitterly. “I smell like a human and a dog. I want to be rid of that scent.” Bitterness began to well up inside her and she added, “I want to forget that life, to blot it out forever. The man took my freedom, and that dog tried to take my pride. Look what he did to me!”
Jalkort looked at her good side in profile. “Actually, you’re a rather handsome female. Your children will only take your good looks, not your wound.”
“What children? I will die forsaken, and you know it!”
“Our children,” Jalkort said. “Bal dareth, Fabana?”
“You can’t possibly mean it!”
“I do.”
“But look at me!”
“I am looking at you. I’m hunting, and I never take my eyes off my prey. No matter what anyone else thinks, you’re beautiful to me. I always knew you would be my bak’ret.”
Tears began to stream down her face. “There is a God,” she sobbed. “There really is!” She kissed him and said, “Dareth koh, Jalkort! Dareth koh!”
CHAPTER 17: IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER
Fielder’s brutal advances had prejudiced Fabana against her own natural inclinations. She was afraid that Jalkort would come to her in the night with dull glowing eyes the way Fielder did to have his way with her. But she would endure it for the sake of her love for him and to bear his pups.
Jalkort drew up almost timidly to her. “How bright the stars are tonight.”
“Yes,” she said stiffly. Her muscles tensed. “They are bright, aren’t they.”
“We’re alone now,” Jalkort whispered. “Safe from the eyes of night, this small part of the world is our private kingdom, and you are my queen.”
“Come on. Get it over with,” Fabana said tensely.
“Get what over with?” Jalkort said with a gentle laugh. “You’re such a timid creature. That’s what I love about you.” He pawed her, then came down on his front legs and wagged his tail. “Hey, I bet you can’t catch me!” He tapped her on the shoudler and ran a short distance, then said, “You’re it! Come on, Fay! Work off that fat, honey bunch!”
“Fat??” She ran after him. “I’ll fat you!”
He bounded over a row of bushes like a gazelle. She followed, just skimming the top.
She looked around for him, but didn’t see him anywhere. Then she looked back and saw him hiding at the base of the bushes with a rakish grin on his face. “Gotcha!”
Fabana laughed. “You little fakir! You never change!”
“That’s right,” Jalkort said. “I’m still your friend. See, I’m not so scary am I?”
“Well, no…” She looked into his warm hazel eyes. “Well, yes. You’re the most scary and wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He drew close to her face and nuzzled her gently. “I can be patient, as patient as you need me to be.”
She smiled and rubbed his cheek gently with hers. “You’re my best friend, and against all hope you’re my husband. Whatever you want to do is fine by me.” She pawed the ground uneasily. “Will it hurt?”
He chuckled. “No, my darling.” He pawed her face and smiled. “You’ll feel loved, very loved.”
She looked into his eyes and saw the honesty and openness that liberated her love for him. “I’m ready. Make me feel loved.”
“Are you sure?”
Trembling with mixed fear and desire, she whispered, “Yes. I’m sure.”
Fireflies like tiny shooting stars brought the splendor of the heavens close enough to touch. In the distance, a lion sang an ancient song of the joys of owning territory. Another lion roared back in eerie antiphony. The acacia leaves whispered wordless messages of peace and love. Fabana felt very happy, safe, and loved as he said she would. With Jalkort, no one would stare at her. With Jalkort, no one would shake their head in pity.
Fabana:
I looked into the water, and I dreaded what I’d see A tortured face with ugly scars was looking back at me I shied to go on living, and I wanted just to hide And yet he doesn’t see that face, but one that lives inside
Jalkort:
She ran before the hungry fire that burned our world away I thought our love was buried deep in some dark yesterday Our path had forked, the dream had died, like grass our love had burned But life renewed amid the ash, and with it love returned.
Both:
The day before was void of hope, you were a sweet regret A sad dream tugging at my heart I tried hard to forget Then fate decreed our paths would cross, our love was meant to be Tonight the stars of Heaven smiled because you came to me.
Jalkort and Fabana went to a place where fear and shame could not follow them, a place found only in the heart where scars do not make ugliness and the boundary between two hopes is removed. They were one love and one spirit burning brighter than the sun, and everything the light touched was made pure and holy. Fabana felt her old sadness washed away in the tide. With it washed away the clinging traces of Spotty. She was Fabana, daughter of Kelvar and wife of Jalkort!
She discovered her special heritage with the help of her husband. Born to an ancient line, she knew the joy and comfort of a husband as her mother and grandmother did before her. All fear was gone. She floated in a pink sky on a golden cloud of joy, warmed by the sunshine of his love. She drew nearer, ever nearer to the sun, and finally trembling like a dry leaf she was swallowed up in the sweet caress of its fire. “Oh, Jal! I love you, so much!”
The end of their passionate encounter was just the beginning of their close bond. Fabana turned to meet her husband’s shining hazel eyes. He smiled gently and kissed her.
“Are you happy, Fay?”
“Delirious,” she said. “You are love.”
He went and rolled on his back in the sleepy savanna grass, and Fabana snuggled next to him.
“Aren’t the stars beautiful, Fay?”
She didn’t notice. Her gaze was turned upon him. “You make everything look beautiful. Even me.”
CHAPTER 18: UNCERTAINTIES
After the honeymoon, Jalkort had to return to the mundane reality of evening hunting and morning scavenging, but every moment he spent with Fabana was made to count. She would hunt with a group of females headed by Amarakh, and most of the males would trot off with Ber. But Jalkort would leave with Gur’mekh and a few chosen males who hung together almost as a clan within a clan.
When Fabana would return, and Jalkort saw her from across the field, he would run to her and forgoing words simply press his body against hers and nuzzle her. Her heart would almost rise to her mouth and she would paw him, knowing with some pride that new life was stirring inside her—life born from love.
Jalkort often spoke of Gur’mekh, his wonderful psychic gifts, and his big plans for the future. Fabana wanted to meet Gur’mekh, but it was more easily said than done.
Then one day when Jalkort came back from the hunt, he came trotting back with a lean, muscular male with a very intense pair of eyes that seemed to look right through people’s faces and spy on the heart.
“Here he is, Fay! You wanted to meet Gur’mekh!”
Jalkort’s pride was too clearly evident. Fabana nosed Gur’mekh’s cheek. “Jal speaks of you highly.”
“He speaks highly of you too, Fabana.”
There was something odd about Gur’mekh that disturbed Fabana. She could not quite tell what it was. Maybe his supposed gifts troubled her, but she was not sure. It would do no good to come out and ask him about his activities, so she tried hard to push her doubts to the back of her mind. She was wise enough to know Gur’mekh would pick up any strong suspicions whether she voiced them or not.
“Your husband is indispensable to me,” Gur’mekh said. “I believe that our sun is rising, not setting. That there are great things ahead for our race, and that those who have looked down upon us for centuries will come to respect us as children of Roh’kash.”
“Is something going to happen?”
“Something revolutionary? No. Something evolutionary, at least for now. I believe that we have wasted the blood of our seers on petty concerns. I think that the psychic gift is a trust given us by Roh’kash for the betterment of our people. I believe that I must work to make the clan and someday the race better off than I found it. That’s what I will teach my children, and if the gift does run in families, we need to encourage our seers not to forgo marriage, but to do as my parents did, spreading the gift of Roh’kash until it becomes one with the race, and the race is one with it. A family united in blood and in spirit. Wouldn’t that be beautiful, Fabana?”
“Perhaps. And yet…”
“And yet?” He looked her in the eyes with his intense stare. She glanced down.
“And yet, there is some comfort in privacy. I mean, don’t you think things you’d like to keep to yourself? Like maybe being attracted to someone else’s mate?”
Gur’mekh was visibly upset, but quickly covered it. “Of course she doesn’t know,” he thought to himself. “Why, Fabana,” he said aloud, “If we all knew how we felt about each other, I think we’d choose the right partners in life. I mean, when I was growing up, my mom and dad would look at me, and I would feel drunk with love. I wish everyone could feel that way, even once in their life.”
“I feel that way when I’m with Jalkort.”
Jalkort kissed her, and the issue was soon smoothed over. Still from then on she distrusted Gur’mekh, and tried to encourage her husband to hunt with Ber instead.
CHAPTER 19: DEMRATH’S FAMILY
“Among the first of the Hyannicha were the brothers Mal’keth and Gol’shekh. Mal’keth was quiet and thoughtful, while Gol’shekh was loud and selfish. Yet though they were so different, the two brothers were seldom apart.
“Mal’keth fell in love with Baellea. But Gol’shekh was consumed to the bones with jealousy. And one evening he asked his brother, “Share Baellea with me, and whatever I kill you shall eat of first.”
“But Mal’keth laughed and said, “Whatever you kill, you may eat alone. Whomever I marry, I shall love alone.”
“And Gol’shekh became exceedingly angry and he seized his brother by the throat and slew him because he laughed.
“Before Gol’shekh could hide his brother’s body, Baellea saw her lover dead. She rolled upon the ground, crying out to Roh’kash for a reckoning. Gol’shekh was afraid and he killed Baellea.
“The next morning as Roh’kash was walking through the meadow, she saw Gol’shekh and asked him, ‘Where is your brother Mal’keth?’
“‘He is with Baellea,’ Gol’shekh replied.
“‘Indeed he is,’ Roh’kash said. ‘Their spirits have cried out to me for justice. And so tears shall you drink all the days of your life. In grief and darkness shall your spirit languish until the sun is quenched and mountains are laid low. Henceforth your name is not Gol’shekh (Bright star) but Melmokh (Dark path).’”
—FROM THE HYANNICHA URU’GUTH
Demrath once thought the happiest day in his life was the day he married Lenti. But he changed his mind when the pups were born. Small expressions of the miracle of creation, he looked at them lost in wonder and love.
Tela was a small Lenti, her pushed-in nose and large eyes were typical of a pup, but he could tell that she would grow to be like her Muti with the fire of Roh’kash shining in her eyes. Krull and En’geer naturally held Demrath’s attention, for he knew in the months to come he would spoil his twin sons the way his father spoiled him. “Mighty warriors, you make the earth tremble in your wake!” He laughed softly, nuzzling them, then kissing his daughter. “Look at them, Lenti! Our family!”
Demrath showed off the pups whenever he could. Many of his friends were veteran parents, having raised several litters. But the pups of the next Roh’mach generated a great deal of interest. There were those out there who could see Tela as the future leader of her people.
Of course, the depth of Demrath’s happiness only rubbed salt into Gur’mekh’s wounds. “Lenti, I would have given in to your every whim!” he said passionately, but only to the back wall of his cave. “I would have made you a goddess and worshipped you night and day! Now you have his pups when you could have had mine—seers, visionaries, destined for greatness!”
After Gur’mekh had his say, he decided he must pay his respects to the pups or lose all of the progress he’d made with Lenti. After all, if he was going to be their father someday, they must get to know him. Though it rankled him that they were Demrath’s pups, he remembered that they were also Lenti’s children, and he would love them if only for that.
Gur’mekh trotted down to Demrath’s den, grumbling about all the nice things he’d have to say to him. But when he arrived, he was softspoken and polite.
“Hello, Demrath! You old married buck, let’s have a look at the kids!”
Lenti said, “See, darling? I told you.”
Gur’mekh gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, then headed straight for the pups. “Oh look! Two little Demraths and a Lenti!” He fairly bubbled over with excitement. “I’ve never seen newborns before. Aren’t they tiny! Look at those perfect little toes!”
“They’ll grow,” Lenti said. “She’s Tela, and these two boys are En’geer and Krull.”
Gur’mekh carefully pawed Tela and she looked up. “Can you see me, hon?” He concentrated, touching her with his paw. “Yes, you can. Not clearly, but you can.”
“You can tell?” Demrath asked.
“Oh yes. I’m a seer.” He smiled pleasantly. “Tell me, do you already have a ma’khim for them?”
“Well—uh—no.”
“I guess you wouldn’t consider me.”
Lenti looked at Demrath and nodded slightly.
“Uh—sure. It would be an honor.”
Gur’mekh frowned slightly. “I know about my bad reputation. But I’ll be good. Better than good. This evening, I’ll hunt up a gazelle for old Amarakh to repay the one she thinks I stole. I’ll even patch things up with your okhim. By the way, how is Ber these days?”
“Fine.” Demrath looked uncomfortable. He scratched behind an ear. “Don’t be offended, but isn’t this kind of sudden? I mean, what happened to you?”
“It’s kind of personal.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, I didn’t think you did.” He drew up close and in a low voice said, “Actually, there’s a certain bak’ret involved. You know, a chance I may be settling down with a wife and pups of my own. And I don’t want them to suffer from being associated with me.”
“That’s very honest of you. And very noble.”
“When did this happen?” Lenti asked, pressing Gur’mekh for details he was clearly unwilling to volunteer.
“Last night. But I have to prove myself worthy of her. I must let nothing stand in my way of my one chance for happiness.”
Demrath smiled. “Gur’mekh, we’ll have to hunt together sometime.”
“I’d really like that. I hear you’re quite good.”
Gur’mekh walked off, pleased as punch. He kept repeating the names of the pups to himself so he wouldn’t forget. “Yes, my children, I will give you things that Demrath could never provide for you. Some day a great empire will be yours and many will bow before you who now sneer at us.”
CHAPTER 19A: HYANNICHA URU’GUTH
For the next two weeks, Gur’mekh kept his word to Demrath, behaving as well as a priest at high moon. He did kill an antelope for Amarakh, and a couple of hares for good measure. He even said something nice to Ber, who almost fell back on his haunches with surprise.
He brought a rabbit to seal the relationship as ma’khim to the pups, and spent hours playing with them.
Even his father Gur’bruk noticed the change in him and congratulated him on making it through the “rough spots.” That meant more to Gur’mekh than he dared admit. Despite their love for each other, their relationship had been strained for months.
“I hear that you’re interested in a bak’ret. I don’t know who, and I’m not going to pry, but son I’m proud of you for putting your priorities in order. Roh’kash really knows what’s best, and when you follow her will, you can’t help but be happy.” He took Gur’mekh aside where Kambra couldn’t hear them. “Frankly, son, for a while I was really worried about you, and so was your mother. She was having nightmares about you getting yourself exiled or killed. But the last week or so, she’s slept like a pup. I love you, son. I’ve always loved you, but lately I’ve really felt—well—so proud that I could just burst. Whatever you did, or however things turn out between you and your bak’ret, I hope you’re going to remember to reach for the stars.”
Gur’mekh nuzzled his father and stroked him with a paw. “I love you, Maleh. I’m happier than I’ve ever been before, and things are going to all right from now on.”
Gur’mekh gazed in his father’s eyes and felt the love there. He determined not to steal food from the Roh’mach or pull pranks on Ber. But the one thing he DID plan to do would stand out above all the rest.
He was much less patient than Shimbekh was with Kambra. He wondered what he could do to gain the upper hand with Demrath. Enough time had passed to change his reputation, and he’d already secured custody of the pups if anything happened to Demrath. And more importantly, Lenti did not shrink away from him the way she used to do.
Now there was a darker side to hyannic lore and magic. There were potions that opened the subject to powers and places beyond the experience of the ordinary mortal.
A real seer would have been taught the hidden knowledge of the Hyannicha Uru’guth, the shamanic lore of their people. Gur’mekh was not the type to commit to that sort of lifestyle. He wanted the abilities, but not the responsibilities that went with it. It was a volatile mixture.
He remembered his experience with Demrath on his wedding night, and felt the solution to his problem lay in such a link. For no one would willingly tell him the secret words under pain of death. Therefore he went to his mother as she slept and lay close by to her. He rolled on his back and murmered, “Lend me your thoughts, mother. Lend me your feelings, Mother. Lend me your eyes and ears, Mother. Let us be one.”
He concentrated and at long last fell into a trance. Soon he found himself in her dream.
It was a playful one—she was sparring with her sister Shimbekh. For a moment, he felt a little bad about what he planned to do, but he promised himself he would make it up to her. Besides, it was for the good of the race.
“Hi, Muti!”
“Gur’mekh!”
Shimbekh took the opportunity to push Kambra to the ground. “Thanks, Gur’mekh!”
“Cheater!” Kambra cried, trying to push off Shimbekh’s powerful body. “This is not over!”
“I’d be careful if I were you,” Gur’mekh said. “I hear there are wild dogs out here.”
“Wild dogs?” Shimbekh let Kambra up. Kambra dusted herself off, the conflict momentarily forgotten.
“They were coming from that direction. Oh, look!”
Gur’mekh concentrated with all his might. As he said, a pack of wild dogs came over the rise. One stood right in front of Shimbekh and said, “You are surrounded. Give no resistance and we’ll be quick and merciful.”
The dogs quickly overwhelmed Shimbekh and began to tear away at her while she struggled and shrieked. Gur’mekh ran into the fray, managing to kill one of the dogs, but suffering bite after bite. “Muti, help me! Use the curse!”
That was when the words came out. Words that shall not be written here or passed on in the lore to avoid the anger of the heavens.
The spirit of Melmokh overshadowed them powerfully, and she commanded him that all the wild dogs be killed. They shrieked as one by one they fell to the ground bleeding from the nose, mouth and ears.
Gur’mekh knew that he had the key to unlock his great future. Of course the one thing he did NOT do was explore how to control this force. That would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Gur’mekh stumbled over to Kambra and kissed her. “I love you, Muti! I will spend the rest of my life showing the world your greatness.” He felt a little noble despite his theft. He withdrew from her dream, feeling quite proud of himself. Jumping up with triumph, he ran to his sleeping mother. But her expression of pain hurt him. He could sense that she was bent over Shimbekh’s dead body. Quickly he nuzzled her.
“Muti! Wake up! You were moaning in your sleep!”
She opened her eyes. “Oh gods, where is Shimbekh??”
“She’s fine, Muti. You were just having a bad dream.”
With mixed guilt and love, Gur’mekh nuzzled her as she lay on the ground. “I love you, Muti! Someday I’m going to make you proud of me.”
“I’m already proud of you.” She smiled wonderfully and beautifully, and Gur’mekh’s heart melted, lost in the depths of her unconditional love.
Gur’mekh trotted off, floating on a cloud of good feelings, but repeating to himself the words of damnation lest he should forget them in the hour of need.
Seers were trained to keep Makei at bay by the words of binding and loosing. Of course, Gur’mekh had not been trained, and he did not know to ask for a binding spell.
First, he caught a rabbit and choked off his wind.
“Karfas of the Rising Sun, Melgath of the Setting Sun, hide me from the jealous eyes of night! Accept my sacrifice! A hare without blemish, no part of him consumed!” Then he spoke the words of fell significance.
The dead rabbit stirred, and Gur’mekh jumped. In a deep voice, the hare said, “Who calls?”
“Gur’mekh, son of Gur’bruk.”
“And why have you disturbed my long sleep?”
“Because vengeance is more satisfying than sleep!”
There was a long pause. Then the rabbit said, “I am Melmokh, the great destroyer. I do not settle petty squabbles. Make it worth my while or you shall regret waking me.”
Gur’mekh, drunk with his power, said triumphantly, “Petty squabbles! I desire the blood of my enemy, and I shall consecrate it to you!”
“And who is your enemy?”
“Demrath, son of Ber.”
“And you bid me do this of your own free will?”
“I do.”
There was another quiet moment. Then in the distance Demrath came rushing madly from his cave, yelping and whining.
Close on his heels was Lenti. “Demrath! Oh gods!” She began to run around him in tight little circles. “Help! Oh gods! Somebody help us!”
Demrath crumpled to the ground, blood oozing from his nose, ears, and mouth.
“Demrath! Don’t die! Oh gods! Don’t die, darling!”
His trembling paw reached up and touched her cheek, then fell back limp.
“No!!! Demrath!!!”
His pups came out and gathered around the body. She began to shriek, and the pups howled pitifully over the body of their beloved okhim.
Gur’mekh watched in horror. “Did you have to torture him to death?? What did you do to him??”
“What you asked by your own free will,” the hare said. “Taste the sweetness of triumph, Gur’mekh. You’re right—vengeance is more satisfying than sle