That evening, Uzuri came in from the hunt flush with victory. Metutu sought to ride that wave of good feeling and went directly to her. “So you brought down your prey?”
“It was a team effort,” Uzuri said, noting a red spot of gazelle blood on Yolanda and grooming it away with her pink tongue.
“I bet you feel like the mighty huntress tonight!”
An eye looked away from the grooming. “Guess so.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Guess so.”
“Well, tell me about it. That is, if you don’t mind.”
Her answer came in short bursts, punctuated with licks to Yolanda. “Not much to tell. Old gazelle female. Pincers maneuver. No big deal.”
Uzuri was looking keenly at Yolanda, continuing her grooming though the blood had disappeared. He took the hint and walked away to nurse his hurt feelings. He really liked Uzuri, but he got nowhere in a hurry, and felt he probably never would.
While Yolanda was getting all the affection she could handle, Metutu contented himself playing with Ajenti. The cub was strong and had sharp claws. He had to practice great restraint and caution to keep his hide intact and still show her a good time. Finally he took her paws in his hand and pushed her claws back enough that she got the message. “Your Uncle Metutu is fragile. You have to retract those claws.”
When Metutu was alone with Makedde, he got the lecture he’d been expecting. “Give her time, brother. Her love is like a beautiful flower. First comes the sprout, then the bud, and then one day it opens and it’s beauty takes your breath away.”
“Why are some people like that, Makedde? Why don’t they just say what they feel?”
“When you say what you feel, you can never take it back. Remember when you came back from Busara’s cave and you were so excited you wanted to tell the whole world? And mother thought you were in love!”
“Did father tell you about that?”
“He sure did. Cuddling with a dead lion and everything!” Makedde laughed. “You are still young. You want everything now. But the reason Aiheu gave us a lifetime is because it takes a whole lifetime just to live!”
“But think of the time we waste? Uzuri could have been friends. I really like her. You think everyone will live forever, and things will never change. Then one day your mother starts beating her head on a branch.” His eyes misted up. “Then she’s gone. I think you should tell people how you feel, and live for the day.”
Makedde smiled indulgently. “Brother, no one ever really dies. Really. When you love someone the way I love you, death is inconvenient and painful, but it cannot break the bond between us.”
Metutu bit his lip, then put his arms around Makedde. “You always knew the right thing to say.”
Two days later, Uzuri came back from the hunt with a cut. She went to Makedde and asked him for help.
Makedde thought a moment, then said, “I have a number of things to do this evening. But Metutu will be glad to help you.”
Metutu got some disinfectant and pain killers to patch the small wound. Then he used Dwe’dwe resin to seal the edges of the cut together.
“It will leave a scar,” she said morosely. “It’s my first. I thought I was better than that, but I made a stupid mistake. Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Metutu said. He mixed some Dahlia rubidium with a few drops of her own saliva. “This will prevent scarring if you have discipline enough not to lick it off.”
“Really?”
“It works miracles, especially on furry regions of the body.” He put some on the cut and began to rub it in lightly. “We rub it in, then restore circulation in the skin around it.”
She patiently endured the rubdown, especially when it did not cause discomfort. Finding it pleasurable, she let him stroke her whole shoulder. Before long, he began to get venturesome soon he was stroking her gently, looking at nothing in particular. She sits silently, her eyes half closed. Eventually she starts to purr. He half smiles. “The other shoulder could use a little work,” she said dreamily. He was embarrassed, but complied.
“No, up a little. Oh yes.” She sighs contentedly. After a moment of such bliss, she said, “Goodness, I have to see Yolanda!” She got up, stretched, and started out the door. She paused for a moment and looked back at Metutu with a smile.
"If you have more problems, don't hesitate to come back. Please."
"Thank you," she says. She had started down the side of Pride Rock when she stopped again. Uzuri called after him, "Do your people have any star lore?"
"Yes we do. I love watching the constellations.”
“Remind me sometime and we'll trace the night sky together."
After she left, Metutu looked back at Makedde. “Brother, I think I have a friend.”
Makedde nodded. “Just don’t push it. You’re doing fine if you just let Nature take its course.”
“Indeed, brother. You have ground that same bit of Campa shoot five times over.”
“It needs to be fine.”
“I wouldn’t say it NEEDS it.” Metutu smiled and put his arm around Makedde’s shoulder. “Still I guess it can’t hurt.”
CHAPTER 29: INVITATION TO THE DANCE
Akase had come into her season. She knew after her last miscarriage that she might not survive another pregnancy. Ahadi was very demonstrative to her, even in public. But he knew that she could die during a pregnancy, and so his need for intimacy was not expressed in the usual way. Instead he looked for ways to enjoy closeness with her but not give in to his strong desires.
He soothed his need for her presence by lying his great mane down and letting her fall asleep resting on his side. He would kiss her, but always chastely. And he would tell her he loved her for who she was, and always would. That just being with her was the great joy of his life.
In this, Akase was little help. She was firmly in the grip of her natural inclinations. Her thoughts drifted back to all the blissful moments she had spent with her husband, and to the hopes and dreams they shared. Now they had no cubs. And worse, she was not even allowed to try!
“Husband,” she whispered. “Lover, come to me.”
“Call me husband, but do not call me lover.” Ahadi looked down, ashamed. “You are putting thoughts in my head.”
“Someone needs to.”
“We’ve been through this before. After your miscarriage, I thought we BOTH agreed that our marriage could last, but that we would be strong and face this thing rationally.”
“What you want isn’t a wife but a sister! If I must live as a sister, and never feel you close to me, I’d rather be dead!”
“Wife!”
“Lover!” She repeated it to make the point stick. “Lover, lover! That’s what I am--that’s what you married!”
“Don’t do this to me! I’m showing my love the best way I know how!”
“When I see you, I want you. But you say I could never have you, and you could never have me. Have you declared our marriage null and void?”
“No! I love you--God knows I do! I don’t want anything to happen to you!”
“But it is happening. Can’t you tell? This is not natural.” She rubbed him full length. “I may not become pregnant. It is always a risk, but one that I’m willing to take.”
“But darling!”
She nuzzled him, kissing him gently and passionately. “Make love to me, I beg you! Make love to me!”
“Oh gods!”
“Make love to me, husband. Lover, I know you want me. Let me hear you cry out my name in ecstasy!”
He looked in agony. He was. “Oh gods, I can’t endure this! Can’t you help me just a little?? Aiheu, help me!”
She nuzzled him. “Can’t he help ME just a little? I don’t want a miracle--I just want you.”
“For you, anything. But I feel guilty that it should please me too! I have no right to any pleasure that puts you in danger. If you died, my cries of passion would come back to haunt me like a curse!
I would have to live with that for the rest of my life!”
“Never let that make you feel unclean! Never! Don’t you know that our pleasure is rooted in love? Love that will outlive these mortal bodies. Love that will make beautiful all that it touches! Love that will one day reunite us in the heavens! Come to me freely, because you love me!” She rubbed her face along his cheek. “I want to make you happy. I want to make you deliriously happy. I want to feel you shudder once more like a thunderbolt.”
“Oh gods!” He began to kiss her passionately. “I’m on fire!”
She walked a few paces in front of him and knelt down. Looking over her shoulder, she peered deeply his eyes and her jaw quivered.
He stalked toward her lithe, golden body, awash with the raging fever of his passion. “Lover, I come!”
CHAPTER 30: CRAFTING THE TOTEM
Metutu had studied long and hard. The gods had blessed him with wisdom and the strength to use it, and he used those blessings well for one whose heart was filled with so many distractions. Indeed, there were times he wanted to be with Asumini, but had to sit through lectures on star lore and wade through the savanna grass to learn the different herbs and their uses. Patiently Asumini would wait for him to return. She remembered her father well, and how he put his service before his comfort. Metutu was a lot like him, and it felt comfortably familiar. Also, like Busara, Metutu would use the time he was with her to its best advantage. Feeling guilty, Metutu would forgo rest when he was tired, and rush through meals. The precious minutes he saved were spent holding her hand, brushing her hair, talking about whatever was on their mind, and of course there were also times when he would take her hand and lead her away with him. Makedde would smile and try not to notice that some chores were being neglected. Makedde was married to his work, but he understood that Metutu was not.
One day, Makedde questioned Metutu at length about treating wounds and setting broken bones. He tried very hard to find some weakness in his knowledge, wondering where to concentrate his training. He found no weakness at all, and anxious to help Metutu settle down with his new wife, offered to take him to the council.
That evening, a nervous Metutu was ushered into the circle and presented to his brother Makoko. This was no time for casual greetings, and Metutu did not speak unless spoken to.
Some of the elders were leery. Dedou asked, “How could such an admittedly bright young buck know all that a shaman needs, and bear the weight of that much responsibility? Is it not the optimism of youth here rather than the considered opinion of his esteemed sponsor?”
Makoko looked at Metutu. “Well, candidate? Answer him.”
Metutu glances around at the other faces, then looks right at Dedou. “My love for the King is the light of my world. His people are my joy, and his welfare is my abiding concern. Even if you forbade me, I should humble myself in the dust before him and offer my hands to his service. The wonder of one acacia leaf is so deep and rich that I could never learn it all. Who can hope then to understand God’s world? And if we must concede that no shaman could possibly know everything, we must ask how much knowledge is enough to comfort those who suffer? I tell you brothers that I am an expert on suffering, for I have suffered greatly. It was suffering that put me on this path. But I also understand love, for I have received much of it, and it is love that keeps me on this path. Without the path, my life has no meaning. That, my esteemed Dedou, is my answer.”
“I withdraw my objection,” Dedou said.
Makoko stood up, deeply moved, and waived the age requirement, allowing Metutu to be admitted into the Council. The high priest gave him a large rock to hold. “This is the burden which you willingly accept, for with knowledge comes the weight of responsibility.”
Makedde took the rock from Metutu. “Love is the gift of God. It inspires your friends to share your burden, when their love is genuine. So I admonish you to love others all the days that God gives you in this land.”
They made Metutu a clay totem and consecrated it according to the law. And they taught him the words of passage into the circle, “Daima pendana” which means, “Love one another.”
Makoko embraced him. “I’m so proud of you, brother. My love flows like the spring rains!”
Standing with the uninitiated outside the circle, Kinara watches as tears of joy run down his face.
CHAPTER 31: THE KING AND I
Metutu and Asumini were both helping Makedde, who was getting older, in his daily tasks. Metutu had become a well-liked member of the leonine community, and had virtually all but assumed his brother's duties as healer, leaving Makedde free to concentrate on the mystical arts.
Metutu slowly finished massaging the last of the paste into the cut on Avina's shoulder. "There now," he said, leaning back to study his work with a satisfied air, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
Avina flexed the foreleg gingerly, then smiled as she put her full weight on it. "Beautiful! How did you do it?"
"Easy, my dear! The pain is still there; you just cannot feel it right now. You must go home and rest."
"Ah," she flipped a forepaw at him. "I've hunted in worse shape before, and alone besides."
"I'm well aware of that, my dear. But just because you can do it doesn't mean you have to. That hoof almost tore the muscle away. If someone else had been there, you wouldn't have had to limp all the way back here yourself to get me." He strode forward, clearly distressed. "Please, Avina, go home and take it easy for a while. Humor a foolish old ape just this once."
"You are not foolish, Tootles." She grinned at him, knowing how much the nickname embarrassed him. Purring, she rubbed her cheek against his. "All right. If it will make you feel better."
He smiled at her. "Absolutely." He patted her unwounded shoulder gently and bade her good-bye. He knelt to pick up his bowl he used as a pestle and grimaced as his knees popped stiffly. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see Makedde standing beside him, frowning.
"Brother? What is wrong?"
Makedde shook his head in admonition. "Using crushed Bonewort like that is not exactly what I would have done, Metutu. You would have done better to give her something else."
"Really? And what would an old monkey like you know about medicine?"
Makedde grinned and grabbed Metutu's ears playfully, shaking his head. "You impudent whelp! I dare say you're going to be the best shaman the Pride Lands have ever seen."
"You really think so?" Metutu frowned and looked out over the savanna broodingly. "I don't know if I really quite fit in, here."
"What's the matter? Don't you like it here?"
"Of course! I'm not talking about that." Metutu waved his hand dismissingly. "I mean, I just don't know how everyone will like me taking your place; you've been here so long. Besides, the Council has to approve the appointment, anyway."
Makedde spat. "Who cares what the Council thinks! The King is going to make that decision. Don't believe everything the Council tells you, Metutu; Ahadi's word carries tremendous weight, however much they might not wish to admit it. And he's been watching you carefully, brother. Believe it."
"Very carefully?" Metutu moaned. "What if I make a mistake?"
Makedde looked solemn. "Well, in that case, he'll probably just eat you."
"What??" Metutu looked at him in alarm, until he saw Makedde struggling not to laugh. "You dirty...."
A harsh yell broke in from outside, jarring them both. "HELP!" Startled, they hurried over to an overhanging limb and looked down. Peering through the leaves, Metutu saw Yolanda sprinting hurriedly toward the baobab.
The two descended quickly and met her at the bottom. "Easy, my dear," Makedde said calmly. "What is it?"
"Please come quickly!" She panted rapidly. "Oh Gods, come quick! Akase is in trouble!"
"What's wrong?"
"She was complaining about her stomach hurting this morning when I left to go hunting. When I got back, I found her lying on the ground, moaning. She's bleeding, too."
"Did she cut her
self?"
"No, it's from inside! I don't know what to do!" Yolanda's voice cracked and she bit her lip. “You must save her!”
Makedde and Metutu exchanged a look. Without a word, Metutu headed for the baobab. Seizing his staff, Makedde followed the lioness as she made off across the savanna. Metutu clambered up the trunk frenziedly and hurried over to the niche where the two stored their medicines. Quickly snatching up a few cure-alls and some painkiller, he descended the baobab.
A few minutes later, he caught up with Makedde. Yolanda had checked her pace, mindful of Makedde's advanced age, but the delay obviously gnawed at her. Metutu drew alongside of his brother, panting with the exertion. "I brought the cure-all and a little Alba as well, along with..."
Makedde glanced at the pharmacopoeia and nodded curtly. "No need, brother; I'm sure you brought the right things." His face was wan with concern. "What worries me is that we may not have the right medicine here at all."
"What's wrong with her?" Metutu asked, knowing already.
"It is what we feared. Her body is rejecting the cubs."
"Oh gods!" Metutu looked away for a moment. "Can we do anything?"
Makedde sighed. "I wish I knew. I only hope it is something else, but I doubt it. The signs are clear enough."
The three continued on in silence until they reached the foot of Pride Rock, where they were met by Ahadi. The two mandrills bowed before the massive lion. "I touch your mane," Makedde said reverently.
"I feel it." Ahadi blew out a great gust of air. "Aiheu bless you for coming, Makedde. It's a long journey, and I know you are not young anymore."
Makedde said, "My brother came with me. Together we can beat this thing, eh?" He reached out and patted Ahadi's shoulder.
The lion's eyes closed and he slumped visibly. Unwilling to trust his voice, he merely nodded.
Yolanda padded over to them quickly. "This way, Makedde." As they followed her away, Metutu glanced back over his shoulder at Ahadi, then immediately regretted it. He faced forward again, ashamed at the sight of the great king crying like a child.
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