Doug's Home On The Web "Now monochrome monitor compatible!"

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:

David A. Morris:	damorris@wilmington.net
John H. Burkitt:  john.burkitt@nashville.com

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 sleep."
	"Yes, but THIS?"
	"Who is next?" the hare asked impatiently.
	"Just Demrath for now.  It would look suspicious if the Roh'mach 
died the same night."
	A deep voice came from the hare that made the fur on Gur'mekh's 
back stand on end.  "I kill packs of wild dogs, prides of lions, whole 
troops of baboons, and you called me to kill one napping hyena??"
	"There will be others, but there is need for stealth here."
	"Stealth?  No one may call me who worries about stealth.  You are 
weak, Gur'mekh son of Gur'bruk.  You called a mighty gale to shake a 
single leaf??"
	Gur'mekh began to tremble.  He lost his concentration and in doing 
so lost what little control he had over the situation.  
	"I said just Demrath for now.  There will be others.  Many 
others."
	"Oh, there WILL be others.  But I will pick the next one, 
understand?"


CHAPTER 20:  BIRNAM WOOD TO DUNSINANE

	Gur'mekh came running over to Lenti.  He looked down at Demrath, 
and stared with horror at the ugly hemmorages that killed him.  "Oh my 
gods!"
	The pups, knowing no better, came sobbing to him and huddled next 
to him.  Very gently, Gur'mekh touched each tearful face with his 
tongue.  "He's gone!  He's gone!"
	Lenti ushered the pups away.  "Gur'mekh, what do you know of 
this?"
	Gur'mekh looked at her, wondering what she meant by that.  "I've 
never seen bleeding like this before.  Did he complain of any pain or 
run a fever?  I'm no healer, but I mean this all seemed very sudden."
	Lenti collapsed over Demrath's body, sobbing.  "Sudden??  One 
minute he was playing with the pups, and the next minute...."  She fell 
over the body.  "Oh gods!!"
	"I'd be careful if I were you.  What he had may have been 
catching."
	"That's not a disease!  No disease does this!"
	"I'm no healer, Lenti.  I wouldn't know."  He took his paw and 
gently stroked Demrath's face.  "And to think we were getting along so 
well.  He had everything in the world to live for."
	"And now I'm left with three young pups to raise.  They will want 
to know what happened to their okhim.  They're too young to really 
understand."
	"They have a ma'khim."  Gur'mekh pawed her gently.  "I'll take 
care of them.  They will lack for nothing."
	Tears welled up in her eyes.  "Bless you, Gur'mekh!  I didn't know 
if you were serious about that.  You can still surprise me."
	"I was never more serious in my life.  You stay here and I'll get 
some help.  We'll move him, my little barak ler."
	Gur'mekh started off to get help, when he suddenly heard a loud 
cry.  He froze.
	"What did you call me??"
	"I'm sorry?  I don't understand."
	She stared at him with a look of horror.  "How did YOU know he 
called me that?  He only used that name for me when we made love!"
	"Just a coincidence."
	"I don't think so!  There's a story behind that name, one you 
couldn't possibly know, unless...."
	Gur'mekh started to squirm.  "Don't get upset, my dear!  You've 
been through a terrible shock, and you're not thinking clearly."
	"Now I remember," she said, her eyes narrowing.  "The bleeding 
curse of Melmokh!  My gods, surely you wouldn't want to hurt that sweet, 
gentle ban'ret!  He trusted you, Gur'mekh!  Tell me you didn't speak the 
unholy words!"  Her hackles bristled.  "Tell me you didn't!!"
	"No, I didn't!  I swear!  Melmokh doesn't even handle petty 
quarrels!"
	"And how would you know that??  You haven't been initiated!"
	"Things leak out!  For the gods' sake, surely you don't think I 
would do a thing like that!"
	"Oh, I think it!  You go around stealing and working mischief.  
All of a sudden you have this big change!  You want to be the pups' 
ma'khim in case anything ever happened to Demrath!  Who's the bak'ret 
you're thinking of marrying?  Was it me??"
	"No!"
	"Her name, Gur'mekh!  What's her name??"
	"I'd rather not say!  She'd die if you found out!"
	"Or kill, you mean!  It's me, isn't it??  Be brave enough to say 
it to my face!"
	"You don't know what you're saying!  You're hysterical!  Besides, 
you can't prove anything!"  He realized with horror what had just 
slipped out.
	"Maybe I can't prove it now, but as Roh'kash is my witness, I'll 
make sure they all know what you did!  Murderer!  Murderer!"
	"No, I'm not a murderer!  I'm not!"
	"Murderer!!!"
	"For God's sake, not so loud!  You'll get me killed!"
	"That's what I want!  You'd better curse me while you still can."
	"No!  I love you!"
	"You'll come to regret that someday.  I swear by Roh'kash you 
will.  I'll never rest till I see you dead!"
	She fell on her husband again and began to sob again.  Gur'mekh 
slinked away sullenly.
	Inside his head he heard a mocking voice that would not easily be 
silenced.  "Maybe I should bleed her out too.  She's a trouble maker for 
sure."
	"Don't you dare!" Gur'mekh answered.  "She has pups to raise.  
Besides, I still love her!"
	"Oh, that really touches me," the voice said.  "I'm deeply moved.  
I wouldn't dream of harming her because YOU still love her."  Maniacal 
laughter echoed from the evil presence.  "You're weak.  You don't have 
the guts to tell me what to do."  Gur'mekh began to gasp.  His throat 
was closing up.  "Don't you dare!" the spirit repeated, mockingly.  "She 
has pups to raise.  Besides, I still love her!"
	Gur'mekh fell to the ground, almost gagging.  "Let me go!  What do 
you want from me?"
	"Submission.  And I'll get it too.  Now behave yourself and you 
can enjoy our time together.  Cross me and I'll torture you to madness."
	Gur'mekh gasped in a deep breath and let it out.  The air felt 
good venting his lungs, and he lay on the grass for a long time waiting 
for his heart to stop pounding.




CHAPTER 21:  A CRY FOR HELP

	Tormented by the entity, Gur'mekh went to his okash and tearfully 
begged her for help.  "I'm in trouble, Muti!  You have to help me!  
Please help me!"
	Kambra frowned, then sighed.  "What were you caught doing THIS 
time?"
	"I--I can't say it."
	She looked into his eyes inquiringly and concentrated gently but 
firmly.  The answer made her hackles raise and her jaw tremble.  "Oh 
God!  Oh dear God!!"
	Gur'mekh fell to the ground and began to sob.  "If I could put 
things back the way they were, I would!  I swear!  Oh gods I'm so sorry!  
Help me, Muti!  Don't let it destroy me, Muti!  I'm so scared!"
	As soon as Kambra could overcome her initial shock, she nuzzled 
Gur'mekh and kissed him.  "My son, my poor son!  I'll have to tell your 
okhim."
	"Must you?  He already thinks I'm a failure."
	"No he doesn't.  You must be brave, and you must be honest.  I 
can't fight this without his help."
	"You aren't going to tell the others are you?"
	"No."  She hung her head in shame.  "They would kill you."  She 
sighed.  "Whether or not you keep this promise, I will help you because 
I love you too much to do my duty.  But please promise me you won't use 
the curse of Melmokh any more.  Please?"
	"I swear," Gur'mekh said fervently.
	She could see in his eyes that it was so, and she kissed him.  
"You've had a hard life, but you're still my good little boy.  We'll get 
you back on the right path.  My poor child, how you have suffered!"
	Tears streamed from Gur'mekh's eyes.  "Muti, I love you!  I'm so 
sorry!  You deserved a better son!  I'd have rather died than hurt you 
like this!"
	"We'll survive this thing," she said.  "I can only pray that 
you've learned something from it."
	She went to meet Gur'bruk privately, afraid that he would lash out 
in anger at his son.  There was no fear of that.  Gur'bruk merely 
sighed, resigned that his son would end up in trouble someday.  But he 
held out the hope that Gur'mekh had hit the bottom of his downward slide 
and could only climb up from there.
	So they covered up the truth about Demrath and the two of them 
took Gur'mekh to a place alone where the ceremony would not be observed.
	Gur'bruk and Kambra nuzzled Gur'mekh as he lay on his back.  They 
prayed over him words as ancient as the hope of eternal life:
	"Might of mights, love of loves, before the sun you were the light 
of the world.  Look upon this child to be born and know that his name is 
Gur'mekh.  He is consecrated to you, receiving from us the fires of 
rebirth; may he carry on the line that after we are gone that the name 
of Roh'kash may not be forgotten.  Protect him from the claws of day and 
the jealous eyes of night, and gather his spirit when his eyes grow dim.  
Hear our prayer."
	Then as Gur'mekh lay on his back, Gur'bruk and Kambra took turns 
urinating on him, soaking him from the neck down.  Then they scratched 
dust on him, turning him into a mud-caked mess.  Kambra said, "Husband, 
it is time for me to be delivered.  Pray for the protection of 
Roh'kash."
	From time to time, Kambra howled pitifully in her birth pangs.  As 
she did, the wrath of the Makei began to make itself known.  A stiff 
wind blew from the west, trying to force them away from their goal.  The 
spirit began to torture Gur'mekh, closing up his throat till he had to 
gasp for every precious bit of air, and dimming his sight until he had 
to lean against his mother for guidance.  Still Gur'mekh, who was 
considered still unborn, spoke not a word as the ceremony demanded.  
Finally, Gur'mekh's throat closed completely, and as he lay being choked 
to death Kambra gazed deeply into his eyes.
	"I love him," she thought.  Her love became a mighty wave that 
swept over the Makei like a painful rash.  "I love him!  You can't have 
my son!  Give him back to me!"
	Gur'mekh gasped in a deep breath, but he stayed silent and 
submissive.  With trembling legs he tottered forward, straining to see 
his target just ahead.
	He was escorted to the river where with a silent bow of submission 
he flung himself in head first.  He rolled about and splashed, removing 
the pungent mud from his fur.  The evil clung to the bloom of muddy 
water that opened around him and travelled downstream.  His eyesight 
returned, and the hard, cold look left his eyes.  A peaceful smile 
spread across his face.  Even without words, Gur'bruk and Kambra joined 
with him in a warm shimmering love that made him feel drunk and giddy.  
How long it had been since the family was that happy!  And when he was 
completely clean, he stepped from the water reborn.  He fell to the 
ground and shouted, "Holy Mother, blessed is the name Roh'kash, sweet as 
honey upon the tongue!"
	"Thanks to you, O God, for our child is born alive and healthy," 
Gur'bruk said.
	"May he grow in love and beauty," Kambra said.  She remembered 
saying those words for the first time under happier circumstances.  
Nuzzling Gur'mekh worriedly, she asked, "How do you feel?"
	"Wonderful.  Better than I have a right to feel."  He nuzzled his 
parents and said, "I'm going to resign from the clan council.  I have no 
right to hold office.  Instead, I'm going to be a seer and maybe a 
healer too.  Roh'kash gave me this talent for a reason, and with the 
time I have left, I'm going to find that reason."
	"Thank God," Gur'bruk said.
	Gur'mekh nuzzled them both again.  "Hey, I'm hungry!  Why don't I 
go bring you back a nice gazelle?  Maybe even a wildebeest?"
	"You ARE feeling better," Kambra said.  "Go with Roh'kash, honey 
tree.  Success."
	Meanwhile, Fabana had just finished a good hunt and brought back a 
small duiker antelope to where Lenti and her pups sat stranded.  "Maybe 
this will help the little fellows."
	"May I take a few bites too, Fay?"
	"Sure.  It's for you too.  It could have been my Jalkort, and I 
know you'd be there for me."
	Lenti nuzzled her.  "You are a sister to me.  You're the best."
	Famished, the pups lit into the carcass.  Lenti held back to let 
them get their fill first.  
	"Bless their hearts," Fabana said.  "I want to help you raise 
those pups."
	Lenti winced.
	"What's wrong?  Did I say something wrong?"
	"No, it's just that Gur'mekh was by earlier.  He offered to help me."
	"That was uncommonly kind of him."
	"Kind??  He killed my husband.  I just can't prove it yet."
	"Killed him??"  Fabana shifted uncomfortably.  "I've seen the 
body.  I don't see how he could have done that."
	"That's because you don't know about the dark lore.  You grew up 
around humans.  They don't know what lies beyond the western sky."
	"What are you trying to tell me?"
	"Don't laugh.  Gur'mekh cursed my husband.  There's a demon curse 
that burns the blood.  It's an old protection used by the seers in times 
of great need."
	"I see."
	"You don't believe me."
	"Oh I believe you.  I've seen his eyes.  Gur'mekh gives me cold 
chills."
	"Keep Jalkort away from him for his sake and yours.  I tell you 
Fay, have a talk with your husband."
	"Are you safe?"
	Lenti sighed.  "I don't know.  He wants me, Fay.  He tried to hit 
on me earlier.  It's not safe to turn him down--everyone knows that.  I 
take the pups to a different place each night to sleep because he'll try 
to invade my dreams."
	"Can he do that?"
	"That and more.  Much more.  He can persuade the feeble minded, 
forcing his thoughts on them.  He's dangerous.  No one is safe with him 
around.  Not when he's angry."
	Fabana sighed.  "Jal thinks the moon and stars rise and set on 
Gur'mekh.  Jal is basically good, but he can be led astray.  I love him.  
I'd kill for him.  I'd kill Gur'mekh and face the consequences."
	"You wouldn't have a chance.  There's only one way: come with me 
to see the Roh'makh."
	"What could she do?"
	"She could make Shimbekh look for the truth.  Shimbekh is his aunt 
and she doesn't want to believe he's guilty, but she will tell the truth 
once she learns it.  I remember my Muti mentioning something about a 
prophesy.  They try to hush it up now, but Shimbekh used to say the son 
of Gur'bruk would lead us all to ruin.  Amarakh knows.  All she needs is 
to be reminded."  Lenti pawed her gently.  "We can do it, girl.  Where 
is Jalkort now?"
	"He's out hunting with Gur'mekh.  Where else?"
	Lenti looked worried.  "I'm not gifted, but I've just felt a cold 
wave down my back when you said that.  Pray, for your husband!  Pray 
hard!"




CHAPTER 22:  THE SPECTRE OF DEATH

	Gur'mekh had a certain quiet reserve and calm that he'd lacked 
before.  Jalkort noticed the change at once.
	"You seem to be in a very good mood, brother."
	"Indeed I am, Jal!  I feel--well--reborn.  God has been very good 
to me."
	"Yes, Roh'kash has blessed you with this great talent, and a great 
future is ahead of you."
	"Not the future you think.  If I want to be truly great, I have to 
stop raiding the Roh'mach's pantry.  I have to stop thinking about 
myself so much.  I have to help others the way God has helped me.  You 
know Jal, what's really important in life is this...."  He took his paw 
and patted Jalkort's shoulder.  "I mean a mountain can be big, a river 
can be strong, but love is something from the Ka.  It is the greatest 
gift of Roh'kash."
	"What a noble thing to say!"  Jalkort was all the more convinced 
of the greatness of Gur'mekh and looked at him almost worshipfully.  
"You're going to be the greatest Roh'mach ever!"
	Gur'mekh smiled.  "I don't want to be Roh'mach.  There are other 
ways to be great.  My Muti and Maleh are great.  Someday you'll 
understand.  It certainly took me long enough.  I'm going to spend the 
rest of my life trying to make up for...."
	Suddenly Gur'mekh felt dizzy.  He staggered and nearly fell.  "Oh 
gods!"  He began to gasp for air.  "Jal, it's happening again!"
	"What's wrong?" Jal asked.
	"I thought I was free of it!" Gur'mekh cried.  "Go find my okash!  
Tell her it's back--she'll know what I mean!"
	"Free of what??  What DO you mean??  Oh gods, brother, you look 
awful!  I'll get Kambra--you just wait right here!"
	Gur'mekh took in a deep breath and straightened up to his full 
height.  His eyes shone with a strange light.  "I don't need her now," 
he said defensively.  "I'm much better."
	"I don't know.  I don't like this."
	"Don't you think I know how I feel??".  He scratched the ground.   
"We have a job to do, and there isn't much time.  Follow me."
	If only Jalkort had been gifted, he would have seen the fear and 
helplessness in Gur'mekh's eyes as he was being pulled against his will 
toward his destiny on the savanna.


CHAPTER 23:  OUT OF CONTROL

	Avina was staggering across the grassland, lamenting her crushed 
face and the death of her happiness.  It was a foolish accident, one 
that she never should have had, and since she was on a solo hunt there 
was no one to help her.  She had leaped for a hartebeest, and all was 
well until she felt almost like someone had grabbed her ankle and 
pulled.  The hartebeest struck her in the cheek, burying her under a 
mountain of pain.
	She desperately sought out Rafiki, and instead she encountered 
Gur'mekh....
	Gur'mekh saw with horror what the Makei was doing inside him.  He 
was a spectator, helpless in the grasp of an irresistible force.  He 
seized her throat, tasted lion blood, and felt the ground tremor as her 
once beautiful face struck the grass.
	She struggled weakly, begging him to stop in God's name.  For one 
brief moment, he met her eyes and her horror and sadness came pouring 
into him.  "What's going to happen to my cubs?" she silently dispaired.  
	"May Roh'kash bless them," Gur'mekh tried to say--it would not 
come out.  And as a tear trickled down his cheek, he grasped the tender 
skin of her abdomen and ripped her alive.
	Her shriek pierced him like a thorn.  "Why, God??  I thought I was 
free of this!  I thought I was free!"
	"There's only one way to be free of me," a voice echoed inside his 
head.  "You don't have the nerve to do it, you little coward!  Now shut 
up and eat!  You must set a good example for your friends."
	Gur'mekh's stomach was in knots and his limbs quaked as he was 
forced to eat the still-warm lioness.  The huge bites Melmokh made him 
take nearly choked him.
	"Gur'mekh?  Brother?  Do you think we should have done this?"
	It was Jalkort.  Gur'mekh looked around, unable to say what was in 
his heart.  But tears were streaming down his cheeks.
	"Oh Gur'mekh!"  Jal watched the tears fall silently.  "What's 
wrong?"
	Gur'mekh looked at him pleadingly for a moment, mute against his 
will.  "Oh Jal!" he thought.  "My nearly perfect friend.  If only you 
could hear my thoughts!"
	As he looked back, blood and mother's milk ran from Avina's torn 
abdomen.  "Oh gods!  Oh gods, show me the way and I'll be rid of this 
thing!  I'd do anything!  ANYTHING!!"
	"Your gods won't help you now.  You told me to kill Demrath of 
your own free will, and you're beyond their help.  You're mine to do 
with as I please!"
	A terrible roar shattered the air, and for an instant Gur'mekh 
expected Melmokh to materialize before him, revealing his shame to all 
present.  The other hyenas looked at him, frozen in terror, wide-eyed 
with fear as they backed away from him.
	Abruptly he realized they were not looking at him, but at 
something beyond him.  He turned his head to see the the furious charge 
of a male lion hurtling towards them, his face burning with fury, fangs 
bared as he uttered another challenge.  Without waiting for Gur'mekh's 
command, the hyenas broke and ran.  Gur'mekh joined them, stumbling away 
in a haze of horror.
	The Makei fell into mocking laughter as the lion looked up at 
heaven and raged against the awful crime.  "I said I'd pick the next 
victim!  Run, Gur'mekh!  Run while you still can!  Ha ha ha ha!!"


CHAPTER 24:  ONE FALSE STEP

	Free to run, Gur'mekh beat a hasty retreat toward the clan 
territory with his companions.  Muti would know what to do!  Muti would 
know it was not his fault!  
	Perhaps this demon was stubborn and required a harsh regimen of 
fasting and ordeals.  He would gladly do whatever it took to be rid of 
the spirit, assuming he could live long enough to find the way.  The 
lion was not faster, but he would not stop.  
	"Roh'kash, why have you forsaken me!  Great Mother, help me!"
	Gur'mekh crossed the creek and headed up the eastern meadow.  Then 
he saw Antelope Kopje on his right and the Clan Acacia on his left--
right between the two of them stretched an invisible line where the 
lion's territory ended and he was on his home soil.  Ah, blessed 
sanctuary of home!
	But Shaka crossed the border and continued into the Clan's turf!  
He would not turn back!  Gur'mekh had only three choices.  He could find 
strength in numbers, and if that failed he could keep running until the 
lion tired and stopped.  If that did not work, he could stage a last 
desperate battle for his life with his three companions.  Good old 
Jalkort would not run out on him.  The other two would probably run in 
different directions and leave them there to fend for themselves.  At 
least good old Jal really loved him.  Maybe--just maybe--they would live 
to see twilight.
	Gur'mekh topped the rise that surrounded the elephant graveyard.  
He half ran, half slid down the other side, barreling toward the spot 
where his parents would no doubt be taking their evening nap.
	Behind him, he heard a yelp.  Turning his head, for one awful 
moment he saw Jalkort turning end over end down the slope, coming to 
rest in the dust, then trying to right himself.  "Jal!!  Get up!!"
	Shaka pounced, and in one horrifying arc covered the distance to 
the unfortunate hyena.  Jalkort found himself trapped under the awesome 
weight of Shaka's front paws.  The lion leaned back or he would have 
crushed him at once.  He had other plans, and merely kept Jalkort 
gasping in a tight embrace of rage.
	"You killed my wife!" Shaka roared.  "You ripped out my heart, and 
I will rip out yours!"  The lion looked at the terrified face and knew 
there was nothing more he could say to frighten him.  "I give you a 
moment to pray to your god."
	Fabana watched, beside herself with terror.  Jalkort glanced about 
frantically and saw her in the crowd.  He silently mouthed her name, the 
cried, "Somebody help me!"
	"You are trespassing on our lands!" Amarakh said.  "You are 
holding one of my people!"
	"He's a murderer!  He killed my wife in cold blood, and he was on 
my land!  She had two cubs, Amarakh.  Two cubs that won't have a mother 
coming home tonight!  She was alive when they ripped her!  Alive!"
	She looked at Jalkort.  She recognized that he was one of 
Gur'mekh's followers.  "I will investigate it.  I know him.  He's a 
trouble maker anyhow, and you can be sure I will punish him if he's 
guilty."
	"IF??"  Shaka glared down at his prisoner.  "I saw him over her 
body.  Zazu saw the kill."  Shaka bent down.  "You tell her!  TELL HER, 
VERMIN!"
	Jalkort squealed, "Somebody help me!"  He looked at Fabana, her 
anguish piercing him to the core.
	"Husband!  Why??"
	In desperation, Jal saw Gur'mekh and looked into his eyes.
	Gur'mekh could feel the agony.  He considered rushing the lion to 
give Jal a chance to escape.  After all, Jal took no part in the 
killing.  Maybe a bite on the foreleg to make him let up for one brief 
moment.  That's all Jalkort would need.
	He crouched, ready to spring.  "Roh'kash, give me strength."  
Suddenly his strength failed him.  He didn't feel too afraid to move, 
but he could not straighten his back legs.  "Leave me alone, Melmokh!" 
he thought.  "It's MY neck, you fool!  I can risk it if I choose!"
	"Fool, am I?  Who called a grand makei just to have an affair with 
a married ban'ret that hates him??  No, you'll die when I'm good and 
ready.  Right now, I want Jalkort!"
	Amarakh said, "You can't extract a confession to a murder by death 
threats.  This is my land, and I give you my word we will investigate 
within the customs of our law.  But you must let him go.  Leave--now!"
	Shaka said, "I do not believe you."
	"You are not in a position to negotiate.  Leave at once.  I will 
see your brother the King tonight.  We will talk."
	Shaka wept.  You are right.  You are absolutely right.  I am NOT 
in a position to negotiate!"  Looking up, he cried, "Aiheu abamami!!"  
He swung down and with one snatch of his jaws severed Jalkort's head.
	Fabana ran around in tight circles screaming, "Oh gods!  Oh gods!"
	Gur'mekh rolled on the ground howling.  The entity reminded him 
that "Isn't it strange that your best friend happened to trip when he 
did?  Such a pity.  And right after you tried to exorcise me.  You'd 
think it was more than a coincidence, wouldn't you?"
	"My gods!" Gur'mekh screamed.  "No!!"
	"Yes!!  Oh, the sweetness of his suffering!  I feel stronger, 
bolder, freer!  And now watch the lion!  How bravely he meets his 
death!"
	The hyenas closed in on the lion, and Shaka died without much of a 
struggle.  The entity began to giggle like a ban'ret on a hot date.  
"Look, Gur'mekh!  See how a lion dies!  Will you be that brave when your 
time comes??"
	The Roh'mach prepared for the real backlash to come.  In a state 
of heightened alert, the hyenas doubled the guard, closing off all 
entrances and exits from the Clan territory unless the proper passwords 
were given.
	Gur'mekh sought out Fabana.  He told her, "Fay, I want to help 
you."  
	She replied, "The way you tried to help Lenti?  And my name is 
FABANA to you!"
	He followed her, persisting.  "Look, I loved your husband as a 
brother.  Ask anyone!  I tried to help him just now, but...."
	"But WHAT?"
	"Oh, you wouldn't understand!"
	"I understand perfectly.  Jal was your pal, as long as he was 
doing stuff for you.  But the moment he got in trouble, you turn your 
back on him!"
	Gur'mekh's hackles raised.  "To hell with you!  I knew you 
wouldn't understand!  You can raise your own brats without my help!"
	Fabana acked back, whining.
	Tears came to Gur'mekh's eyes.  "I'm sorry!  I'm so sorry!"  He 
began to sob.  "Fay, I loved him!  I really loved him!  I'm sorry!"
	"Yeah, well...."  She backed off suspiciously.  "Look, thanks for 
the offer, Gur'mekh.  We'll talk sometime, OK?"
	She turned and hurried off, trying not to break into a run.  But 
the intent was clear.  She put a great deal of distance between herself 
and him, mixing with a large crowd where she could grieve in peace.
	Then came the confrontation with Ahadi.  Gur'mekh was hiding in 
his cave sobbing while the Lion King was demanding a settling of 
accounts and setting the ban.  All Gur'mekh could think about was Jal's 
haunting whimper as he peered into his eyes.  "Jal, if you can hear me, 
I tried to help you!  Oh gods, Jal!  Jal!"
	Ahadi made his demands clear.  In response, Amarakh made clear 
demands on her people: someone must pay for the attack, or all would 
suffer.
	Gur'mekh tried to find his parents.  He began to work his way 
through the crowd.  Before he was successful, the Roh'mach called out 
assembly.  
	"I don't have time for this!"  He kept working his way through the 
crowd.
	"Come to order!" the Roh'mach called again.  "That means you too, 
Gur'mekh!"
	The Roh'mach lined up everyone.  Amarakh said, "We are in 
desperate times.  If we don't find out who lead the hunting party, we'll 
all have to suffer for the actions of a few.  I cannot stand by and see 
the innocent suffer with the guilty."
	Ber spoke up.  "Roh'mach, we have a seer whose innocence is beyond 
dispute.  Why don't we have her hunt down the guilty party?"
	"Shimbekh?  Excellent suggestion, Ber!"
	Ber leered at Gur'mekh, and watched him squirm with all the glee 
of a wrestling pup.
	The hyenas were lined up by Ber and Amarakh, and each one had to 
look Shimbekh in the eyes.  There was no adequate defence except 
possibly love.  "Shimbekh loves me," Gur'mekh thought.  "Surely to God 
she won't betray me!"
	Gur'mekh glanced nervously down the line as Shimbekh counted off 
the hyenas, one at a time, marking them with a pawprint in Shaka's 
blood.  It was the red badge of their innocence.  For one frantic 
moment, Gur'mekh considered blaming it on Jalkort.  He was dead anyhow--
his suffering was over.  But he thought about Fabana and her unborn 
pups.  She would surely be exiled to scrabble for leavings in the 
desert.  In desperation he bit his own leg--deeply--marking his cheek 
with a bloody pawprint.
	"Hey Gur'mekh, your leg is bleeding!  How did you do that??"
	Gur'mekh jerked his head to look at Korg, who stood next to him, 
looking at him curiously.  "Hsssh, Korg!  Not so loud!  You know good 
and well what I did.  And just you keep your silence."
	Korg shook his head sympathetically.  "You should have that looked 
at."
	"I will later."
	"But it's serious."  He bent his head to examine the wound closer.
	"I'm serious.  Drop this conversation!"
	Korg sniffed of his wound, spreading the blood with his nose.  
"Looks bad for you, fellow!"
	Gur'mekh to slapped him with a paw.  "STOP!"
	Heads turned.  Now Gur'mekh was the subject of scrutiny by dozens 
of hyenas.  He began to tremble, then as Amarakh drew close to him, he 
panicked.
	Gur'mekh tried to run, but his leg cramped up.  He was quickly 
overtaken and stopped by bared teeth on all sides.  Pushing through the 
crowd was Shimbekh.  He tried not to look in her eyes.
	Shimbekh finally secured a straight-on stare into his eyes.  "Did 
you lead the attack?"
	Gur'mekh squirmed as he felt the first touch of her mind.  Gentle 
but insistent, he felt the probe of her psyche like a gentle tickling in 
the back of his head.
	"You know this is necessary.  Be calm--just relax...."
	Her thought broke off abruptly.  Her mind's eye opened and she saw 
the struggling lioness crawling through the grass, her shattered jaw 
dripping blood and saliva on the ground.  She saw Gur'mekh move forward, 
and heard the lioness's dying shriek.
	"Oh gods, nephew!"  she thought.  "Why?!"
	"She was dying anyhow!"  Gur'mekh said aloud.  "In the name of the 
gods, there is no way she could have lived!"  He fought frantically with 
teeth and paws, but was grabbed roughly by the throat and choked into 
submission.
	Shimbekh stood over him, her face twisted in pain as she touched 
his mind again.  "The deed is done.  I will pray for you, nephew, for 
there will be a reckoning."
	Gur'mekh looked up at her, eyes pleading.  "Please," he thought 
frantically.  "Lie, do something!!  It was not my fault!  Can't you see 
it was Melmokh!  Melmokh!"
	"I can see that, but there is more to it than that.  More that 
you're not telling me.  He couldn't force you unless you had sinned."
	"They'll kill me!  Oh gods, I don't want to die!  I was turning my 
life around!  I tried exorcism!  Tell Muti I was forced to do this!  
Tell her, Shimbekh!  I can't control myself anymore!  Don't you love me 
anymore?  You said we'd always be friends--you PROMISED!!"
	"I will pray for you," she repeated, tears staining the dark gray 
fur of her cheeks to black.  "Maybe death will set you free."
	"Please!  Please no, I'll do anything!  Just let me talk with muti 
first!  Please!  Just five minutes!"
	"I can't.  I'm sorry."  Shimbekh broke contact and turned, looking 
to the Roh'mach, who stood by, waiting.  She shuddered to say the words.  
"Gur'mekh is guilty."
	Amarakh glared down at him.  "You've been a thorn in my side long 
enough.  This time you went too far, and you will pay for it."  She 
jerked her head.  At the signal, three guards strode forward and seized 
Gur'mekh at various points with their powerful jaws, not breaking the 
skin, but firmly enough that he realized he could not escape.  The 
guards pulled him firmly along.
	"Look at him!" Ber shouted to the pups that huddled by him.  
"That's the devil that murdered your father!"
	Kambra fell on her back and began shrieking uncontrollably.  
Gur'bruk stared into space, a look of hopelessness on his face.  "Not my 
son," he stammered.  "Why, God?  Why my son?  Why??"
	Kambra tried to push through the crowd, but she was held back.  
"Gur'mekh!  Oh gods!  Let me pass--I must see him!"
	"Mother!"
	Shrill laughter echoed in his mind as he was led away.  The Makei 
told him, "After all, it was your destiny to look off Pride Rock."


CHAPTER 25:  BEFORE THE JUDGEMENT SEAT

	Ber jeered Gur'mekh on the way to judgment.  "I hope the King rips 
you alive!  Kill my son, will you??  May you rot in hell!"
	Lenti was right behind him, crying, "Murderer!  Murderer!"
	Gur'mekh looked back at her and said plaintively, "I love you!  
How can you hate me, Lenti??"
	Ahadi came to the promontory and looked out at the distant 
approaching band of hyenas.  He was not sure what was on the wind, but 
he had a good idea what was about to happen.  He sent out a delegation 
of lionesses headed by Uzuri to confirm his suspicions.
	Gur'mekh whimpered.  "Roh'mach, I was posessed by a demon spirit!  
Please, I didn't want to hurt Avina!  I swear!"
	"And you are much better now?  Is that it?"
	"No!  I'm not better!  Please don't kill me while I'm bound to 
this thing!  It will steal my soul!  Don't let it steal my soul!"
	"I'm not letting it do anything to you," Amarakh said curtly.  
"Explain this to Ahadi.  You're at his mercy, not mine."
	Just then the lionesses fell in around the hyena guard, walking at 
a distance but still menacing with their strong, lithe bodies looming 
like giants around them.  Gur'mekh began to shudder.  "I didn't want to 
hurt her!  I swear!"
	One of the lionesses glanced over at him and scowled, showing her 
fangs.  "So, you're the little wretch that killed her!  You'll pay for 
that meal, scum!"
	"He killed my son," Ber said bitterly.  "He'll pay for a lot of 
things today!"
	"Silence!" Amarakh said.  "The King alone will pass judgment on 
the prisoner.  The King alone!"
	Of course, ringed by so many powerful lionesses, Amarakh's 
shouting was so much empty noise.  She began to feel apprehensive 
herself.
	Ahadi stood on the promontory.  Gur'mekh caught sight of him and 
began to squeel and yelp, struggling against the hyenas that held him 
fast.  "Oh gods!  Don't do this!  I'm innocent!  Let me go!  Oh gods, 
he's going to kill me!"
	"Quit whining like a pup!" Amarakh said.  "We have our dignity.  
Face him the way you faced Avina."
	"I was possessed!" Gur'mekh shrieked.  "In God's name, ask 
Shimbekh!  Please, call for Shimbekh!  She'll explain everything!"
	Ahadi watched the agony in Gur'mekh's eyes.  "There goes the most 
unfortunate of creatures," he said to Akase.  "I expected an arrogant 
buck and instead I got a terrified boy."
	At the base of Pride Rock, two more lionesses appeared, flanking 
Gur'mekh on either side as he scrabbled up the slope, babbling almost 
incoherently about the Makei.
	Gur'mekh tried to hold himself steady as they reached the top of 
the path, but when he turned to see Ahadi sitting silently in the mouth 
of the cave waiting for him, he began to whimper again.
	"This is Gur'mekh," Amarakh said.  "He called for Avina's life.  
His jaws are stained red with her blood.  We bring him to your justice."
	The hyena looked into the face of Ahadi.  He could see death in 
his eyes.  His knees began to buckle, and he urinated on the cave floor.  
"Roh'kash, help me!  Help me!"
	Ahadi came over to him.  Quietly, without malice, he purred, "I do 
not want to kill your immortal Ka.  Aiheu will decide.  I give you a 
chance to admit your guilt."
	"Have mercy!  Oh gods!"  Gur'mekh fell on his back, soiling his 
fur in the urine as he began to paw at Ahadi.  "I don't want to die!"
	"That is not an option at this point.  You will have an 
opportunity to be right with your God.  Now tell me Gur'mekh, they 
didn't torture it out of you, did they?  Are you guilty as they say?"
	Gur'mekh knew there was nothing he could do to save himself.  He 
decided to do the only decent thing.  "Forgive the others.  I talked 
them into it.  All my fault.  The Roh'mach didn't know.  All my fault.  
And I'm sorry.  So sorry!"
	"It's good that you're sorry.  Your friends are glad as well, for 
I will not punish them.  Now don't you feel better telling the truth?"
	"I thi-think so.  Yes."
	"Now then, I want you to think really carefully.  I can make it 
swift and nearly painless.  But the gods may not think you have suffered 
enough.  Or I can punish you now, and you will die forgiven."
	Gur'mekh knew he was not guilty of killing Avina.  But he was 
guilty of killing Demrath.  With the chance of eternal damnation looming 
over him, he tried to think clearly.  "I don't know," he cried.  "I 
don't know!"
	"But you must know, Gur'mekh.  When you do something, be it good 
or bad, there are consequences.  I would not want to face God after an 
easy death.  I would take my punishment now, but it is your decision."
	Gur'mekh's jaw began to tremble.  "Help me decide," he silently 
prayed.  "Roh'kash, Great Mother, your will be done."  He gasped for 
air, his heart pounding.  "Well then, I want to be sure.  Hurt me bad.  
Hurt me very bad."
	Ahadi looked around.  "Take the cubs outside.  Far away.  Wife, 
you may want to leave as well."
	Time dragged by as the young and fearful walked away.  Gur'mekh 
kept silently repeating his prayer.  "Roh'kash, Great Mother, rescue my 
spirit.  Roh'kash, Great Mother, rescue my spirit...."
	Finally, Ahadi nodded gravely.  "You ripped her alive.  If you 
would find peace, I will have to return in kind."  He looked upward.  
"Oh gods, look down on your child.  Witness his suffering and accept his 
atonement."
	"If you do this, do you promise you'll forgive me?  Promise?"
	"I promise, son.  While you can, go as far as you can.  Your 
friends will have to drag you the rest of the way."
	"I understand."  Gur'mekh shut his eyes and whimpered.  "Mother 
Roh'kash!!!"
	Ahadi swept his abdomen with his outstretched claws.  In a private 
hell of pain, Gur'mekh shrieked all the air from his lungs, gasped in 
and shrieked again.  It was often said that at that same moment Gur'bruk 
and Kambra fell to the ground and covered their ears, trying to block 
out the squeels of his death agony.
	Gur'mekh gasped for air, foaming at the mouth and shuddering on 
the floor.  His mangled, bleeding entrails were laid open to the 
horrified audience of hyenas.  The Roh'mach had to look away, covering 
her face with a paw.  Ahadi looked at his paw red with Gur'mekh's blood 
and glanced again and the unfortunate wretch gasping out his life.
	"Somebody help me!" Gur'mekh cried.  "I can't get up!"
	Ahadi looked on the youth with compassion, taking Gur'mekh by the 
nape of the neck and lifting him upright.  "Can you walk?"
	"I'll try."  He shuffled forward, stiff-legged, his face a 
portrait of pain and hoplessness.  "Roh'kash, great mother, my spirit 
longs to nurse at your side."  He gasped, struggling to finish the 
prayer of confession.  "Forgive me.  Brother Sun, Sister Moon, do not 
shine on my transgressions.  Shine only on my good deeds.  Let my debt 
be paid."  Tears began to flood his cheeks.  "Oh gods, I'm hurt!"  
	"I know," one of the lionesses said.  "It was a brave thing you 
did for me.  I forgive you."
	He looked and saw it was Avina.  His heart focused on her.  One of 
the blessed, she might be able to protect him from the Makei.
	Demrath nuzzled him.  "I accept your sacrifice.  Oh gods, we could 
have been good friends.  Why do things work out that way?"
	"You are good and noble.  Protect me in the moment of my death."
	The members of the hyena escort looked around to see whom he was 
talking with.
	"He's in shock," Ber said.  
	Gur'mekh turned to look at Ber.  The old hyena, once so full of 
hate, could not meet the desolate eyes of the dying ban'ret.  "I admit 
it.  I killed Demrath."
	Ber gasped.  "Why did you do it?  Why?"
	"Because I loved Lenti.  I would have done anything for her love, 
but I destroyed her."
	"Are you saying you really were possessed?"
	"Yes."  Blood-soaked drool began to run down his neck.  "I'm 
sorry, Ber.  Accept my death."
	"You die a brave death.  I accept it."
	Gur'mekh's agony was so great that his head swam.  He stumbled, 
and some of the hyenas propped him upright.  Reduced to a bare crawl, he 
had to will each step up the promontory. 
	The Makei's voice echoed in his head.  "You don't have to die.  If 
you will curse Ahadi with the words I teach you, you will be King on 
Pride Rock and he will crawl to his death.  Even now it is not too late.  
Do you understand me, Gur'mekh?"
	"Oh I understand," Gur'mekh thought in reply.  "I understand that 
you are afraid!  I will feed off YOUR agony for a change!"
	One of the hyenas that walked ahead of him was Jalkort.  "I know 
you tried to rush Shaka to save me.  You were willing to die in my 
place."
	"You knew I loved you, Jal."
	"I'm going to try and help you, but you must resist the evil.  
Resist it, brother!"
	"I'm doing my best!"
	Again, the hyenas looked about.  Ber alone understood what was 
happening.  "Pray, Gur'mekh.  While you still draw breath, pray.  The 
Nisei are coming for you."
	"You are good, Ber.  Just like your son."
	The makei's voice ran through his head once more.  "I also forgive 
you for attempting to drive me out.  If you'll swear alliegance to me, 
we will be friends, not enemies.  I will give you power, fame, and the 
pleasures of Akase.  The prophesy was for you to take Ahadi's place.  
And when you're king, you can help the hyenas achieve mastery of the 
world.  We will rule together, unbeatable and immortal.  Just swear 
alliegance to me, and all this will be yours, and much more."
	"No."
	"Don't be a fool!"
	"For once, I'm not a fool."
	"If you don't say yes, I'll hold you together and let you linger 
for hours in this agony!  And it can get worse, much worse!"
	Gur'mekh began to wretch up bloody scraps, wincing with the effort 
but helpless to stop.  His moans were broken by fits of gagging.  
"Never!" he defiantly replied.  Still, he felt such pain that he 
couldn't stand it much longer.  A cold sweat ran from his brow and his 
jaw trembled.  Wretching again, he shrieked, "God, let me die!"
	One of the hyena guards offered to push him off the tip of the 
rock but he gasped, "No!  Don't touch me!  I can't stand heights!"
	Jalkort whispered silent advice into Ahadi's heart, and the King 
came out to the end of the promontory.  Gur'mekh looked up and saw 
Ahadi's large, sad face.  He looked into those eyes and saw the goodness 
and sorrow Ahadi felt for him.  Gur'mekh was glad that that noble 
creature would not be victimized by the Makei.
	"Do you release me, friend?" he asked in his desperation.  "Have I 
paid the price?"
	Ahadi reached down and whispered, "You have paid in full.  I 
forgive you.  Relax, son--I'll be gentle and quick."
	Gur'mekh knew that the Makei was defeated.  He smiled at Ahadi and 
exposed his throat.  
	The lion took it gently but firmly, kissing away the burden of his 
mangled body.  Forgiven, Gur'mekh's spirit slipped away toward the 
eastern horizon to join his ancestors.  He found peace at last.




CHAPTER 26: THE TRANSFERENCE

	That night, Gur'bruk and Kambra crept quietly and sullenly across 
the savanna toward Pride Rock, tall and forbidding in the moonlight.  
They stalked to the base of the stone, already having scented what they 
were after.  The smell made their hackles raise.  Kambra in her 
ambivalence walked slowly and stiffly, everything in her begging her to 
flee, and everything in her being tugged forward by an okash's love.  
Gur'bruk came to her shoulder and leaned upon her.  His presence was 
comforting, and she found the strength to make the last few steps.
	At last, the grass parted, and lying on the ground before them in 
a broken huddle were all their hopes and fears.
	"Gur'mekh!"  Kambra nearly collapsed.  "Oh gods!  My precious 
little boy!"
	"Courage," Gur'bruk said, tears streaming down his face.  He 
nuzzled her, but then turned back to his only son.  His paw ran 
tremblingly over Gur'mekh's face, tracing down his neck still potent 
with Ahadi's scent.  "Roh'kash has staked her claim on him.  He's at 
peace now."
	Kambra tried to mumble a prayer, but she broke down and began to 
sob uncontrolably.  "Oh Gur'bruk!  Our son!  Our son!"
	Some lionesses emerged from the grass.  "This land is off limits 
to your kind," Uzuri said.  "King's orders."
	Nearly unaware of their presence, Kambra fell across the torn and 
battered body, howling pitifully.
	"His wife?" Uzuri asked.
	"My wife," Gur'bruk said.  "He was our only son."  He slumped, his 
ears and tail drooping.  "Can't you please just go away and leave us 
alone?  We're not hurting anyone.  Please, for God's sake, just go 
away?"
	The lionesses looked at the faces of extreme pain and grief, then 
looked at each other.  "We did not see you here," Yolanda said without 
asking any leave.  "We will be back in a few hours, so do what you have 
to do."
	"He's too big for us to move," Gur'bruk said.  "We were banned, so 
no one else will help us."
	Kambra asked, "What will happen to my boy?"  She looked around at 
the lionesses one by one.  "I know he's dead anyway, but his bones need 
to rest with his fathers.  His spirit can't rest if he's left here!"  
She fell before Yolanda.  "Haven't you lost a cub before?  That could 
have been your son!"  She crawled to Yolanda's feet, kissing them with 
her eyes tightly shut.  It was the most humiliating of hyena pleading 
gestures. 
	"Don't do that," Gur'bruk said gently but firmly.  "Can't you see 
we're lucky to be here at all?"
	Kambra moaned, reaching up with a paw and gently rubbing Yolanda's 
forearm.  She kissed the lioness' foot again, anointing it with her 
tears.
	Yolanda cleared her throat.  "Go on without me, sisters.  I'll be 
detained."
	The hunting party moved on, and when they were out of range, 
Yolanda reached down and tenderly nuzzled the sobbing Kambra.  "Stand 
up, honey.  I'll carry him for you."
	Kambra slowly rose to her feet.  She looked searchingly into 
Yolanda's eyes.  "Yes, you DO understand.  Somehow, some way, I'll repay 
this debt.   I swear it."
	"No debt, hon.  Your son was very brave.  You would have been 
proud of him."  As gently as if she were moving a cub, Yolanda took 
Gur'mekh's battered body by the scruff of the neck and followed the 
hyenas back toward the eastern meadow.  From there, Gur'bruk and Kambra 
went into exile.  Yolanda last saw them heading across the desert.  
Whether or not they would make it, she did not know.
	Of course that same night the Makei was without a home, and he 
sought someone else to cling to.  Someone who would voluntarily accept 
him.  Shimbekh was too wise to take him in.  But that was a momentary 
handicap.  Somewhere out there was someone that would let him in.
	He began to wait on a hard-bitten and hard-biting female who was 
full of repressed rage, sorrows, and bitterness.  
	Fabana stirred in her sleep.  She was overwrought from the events 
of the day.  She worried that she would grow old in destitution and 
ruin, never enjoying the life she'd heard told about by the clan 
members.  Her heart began to fill with bitterness, a bitterness that was 
sweet incense to the Makei.
	Fabana heard something and looked around.  A bright golden light 
appeared next to her.  Staring from the bright light was a beautiful 
female hyena.
	"Are you a ghost??"  Her hackles raised and she trembled.
	"No," the form said in almost a dreamy lullaby.  "I am who I am.  
Okash of all, child of none."
	Fabana fell at her feet and kissed them.  "Roh'kash ne nabu!  
Roh'kash ne nabu!"
	The Makei reached down and kissed her gently.  "The Lord your God 
has come to rescue your people.  I have anointed your unborn daughter to 
become the next Roh'mach at the time I have chosen.  You will name her 
Shenzi, a name that will come to mean salvation for the race."
	"I am yours!"  Fabana fell on her back and reached up with a paw.  
"I am yours!  Use me!"
	"I shall," said the Makei.  "Oh, I shall."



CHAPTER 27:  BIRTH OF A ROH'MACH

	Melmokh strictly warned Fabana not to reveal the prophesy before 
the appointed time.  Faithfully she agreed to keep silent, though her 
reputation could have used the help.  A few of the hyenas treated Fay 
with distain because of her husband, doubly unfair because Jalkort did 
nothing shameful.
	Since Gur'mekh was disgraced and dead, it was easier to rail 
against him and his followers openly instead of whispering in the 
shadows.  Fay contented herself by imagining the looks on their faces 
when the plans of Roh'kash were made public.  There would be an 
accounting then, by the gods!
	However, most of the hyenas were sympathetic to her plight, 
especially Ber.  He tried to help her get by when she became too great 
with child to hunt, becoming a second okhim to her.  He listened 
sympathetically when Fay needed a friendly ear and occasionally brought 
her some meat.  There was only so much he could do since he was hunting 
for Lenti and her pups.  But his friendship fed a hunger deeper than the 
pit of her stomach.
	Lenti was also like a sister to Fabana.  She remembered the 
gazelle that she ate the night her husband died.  Fay was the giver then 
in the days of her sleek, well-fed figure.  Now the ribs showed, and she 
walked a little slower, her head bowed a little lower and her smile used 
a lot less.  As Gur'mekh's group had formed a clan within a clan, a 
common bond of grief united Fay and Lenti in a private world of grief.
	Korg and Skulk had gotten away with their role in killing Avina.  
It almost seemed unfair that they walked and slept and breathed the 
fresh morning air while Jal's bones sharpened the teeth of jackal pups.  
At least they had the decency to look away when Fabana and Lenti walked 
by, and not brazenly meet their glance.
	Amarakh was already unpopular with most of the hyenas for her 
handling of the Avina affair.  She had little to lose by being openly 
friendly to Fabana, even to the point of giving a public eulogy for 
Jalkort.  Fay was very grateful, especially when Amarakh would come by 
to check on her.  It was her link with respectability.  As if Amarakh 
knew this, she would go out of her way to be seen with Fabana in front 
of the others, asking about her health and her pregnancy.
	When the pups were born, the first male was named Ed.  This was a 
form of exorcism, for the name of her betrayer would belong to her 
faithful child, and the hurt would be undone.  Banzai his brother would 
bear a warm place in his mother's heart, for he looked like his father.  
But it was Shenzi that was of special interest.  For this was the 
daughter of the prophesy.  Small and helpless, the future Roh'mach 
snuggled to her muti to take her first meal.  "Wherever you are, Jal, 
see your children.  Aren't they beautiful?"
	Fabana looked at Banzai's face and wept.  "Oh, Jal!  You did not 
leave me without comfort!  My poor, dear Jal!"
	It was not until four moons after the birth that the false 
Roh'kash made an appearance.  It was very subtle to avoid frightening 
the children.  The Makei needed their complete trust.
	Smiling, the being of light whined and licked Shenzi.  "You're 
beautiful.  You're so beautiful that my heart melts."
	"That's God," Fabana said, falling face down to the ground and 
trembling.
	"Hello, God," Shenzi said, boldly rubbing against the false 
Roh'kash.  "I'm Shenzi."
	"Show respect!" Fabana stammered.
	"SHOW respect?  She will be SHOWN respect," the light said.  The 
false Roh'kash materialized as a beautiful female from the light.  She 
dropped her front legs and wagged her tail.  Shenzi began to bat her 
with her paws.  With Fabana watching in near shock, her daughter began 
to wrestle with the Creator, laughing and finally collapsing in 
submission as Shenzi was bathed by Roh'kash's own tongue.
	As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, young Shenzi was 
the "daughter dearest" whom the false Roh'kash had anointed and given 
the power of life or death.  And still not a word was breathed outside 
of Fabana's family.  "When the time is right, the truth will reveal 
itself," the light would say.  In a very bitter way, that would prove to 
be true.


CHAPTER 28:  CONSOLATION

	Shimbekh turned again to Brin'bi for comfort.  Her first love had 
fled, her sister was gone, and Gur'mekh had been picked clean by the 
jackals.  Her parents had turned inward in their grief and were little 
help in sharing her own burdens.  Brin'bi's friendship upheld her during 
a time when all other support was gone.  And over time her feelings for 
him had had grown to a love.
	Brin'bi could feel that love, and it began to play upon him.  He 
would appear to her more often, sometimes unbidden.  And she never did 
anything to discourage him.  In fact, she craved the every moment of the 
time they spent together.
	Giddy as a young bak'ret on her first date, she went to all of the 
places she enjoyed and took Brin'bi on a tour of her private world.  But 
her favorite thing was to lie in the grass Gur'bruk and Kambra were wont 
to do, gazing into his soft eyes and loving him without a word.  In her 
rapture, she remembered the Ecstacy of Limlorin:

	Gentle zephyr out of the west
	Bear my love on wings of fire
	Straight to the heart of my beloved!

	Who is like unto him?
	His smile begats the sunrise,
	His touch, the joy of life!

	"If I had not died, we would have had pups and hunted together."  
Brin'bi looked down.  "I'm sorry I cannot give you what you want.  Of 
course we could try...."  Brin'bi stopped, embarrassed.
	"What?"
	"I don't know if it would work with you in that body."
	"What??"  Shimbekh was excited.  "Come on, Brin'bi--are you 
holding back on me?"  She peered deeply into his ka and could see his 
thoughts.  "Let's try it!  Do you want to?"
	"All right.  Close your eyes."
	She stood, her eyes firmly closed.  "Tell me when."
	"OK.  Here goes...."
	Shimbekh gasped.  "I can feel you!"
	Brin'bi slowly passed through her.  "Shimbekh!" he cried in 
undiluted joy.  "Do you feel like I do?"
	"I hope so, Brin'bi!  I can feel your joy!  I can feel it!  Warm, 
beautiful golden joy!  You beautiful thing!  Can you feel me too?"
	"Yes!"  He sighed.  "I didn't realize how much you loved me!  
Shimbekh, my darling Shimbekh!"
	Brin'bi came on through, then turned around and kissed her.
	She could feel the lick.  It was warm and moist, not like a ghost.  
She opened her eyes and kissed him back.  "Will you have me?"
	"Do you know what you're asking?  You are still of this world with 
its passions and needs.  Do you really want to pledge to me?  A spirit?"
	She smiled and said, "Yes, Brin'bi.  We both saw our first love 
take the right fork when we took the left.  But who's to say the left 
fork can't lead to happiness?"
	He nuzzled her.  "Bal dareth, Shimbekh?"
	"Dareth koh, Brin'bi!"
	They kissed and pawed each other.  His touch was real and gentle.  
A tear rolled down her cheek.  "Husband," she sighed as a smile 
blossomed on her face.  "Brin'bi, my husband!"

CHAPTER 29:  MAKHPIL

	Shimbekh was as anxious as any new bride to present her love with 
a child, someone that would be theirs to love and nurture.  But she had 
one problem--Brin'bi was dead.  In fact, she was faced with the 
embarrasing complication of registering her marriage with the Roh'mach 
and one other witness.
	Amarakh did not understand Shimbekh's powers, but she did 
appreciate them.  And anxious to have her young friend happy, she did 
not require any proof of their relationship, even the simple step of 
speaking with Brin'bi.  Kambra was her other witness, and like Amarakh, 
she promised to keep the marriage a secret from the others.
	Officially married, she set about the task of having a child.  
Having a surrogate okhim was out of the question--she wanted to keep 
herself pure for her husband.  So the only other way was adoption.
	There were certainly enough pups to choose from who wandered the 
stars, and she did consider giving her heart to one.  But she wanted at 
least one warm body to lay beside her in the night, one who would grow 
and present her with grandchildren someday.
	Ber'meer, a distant cousin, had married the daughter of a seer, 
and his daughter Makhpil showed an emergence of strong psychic powers.
	Ber'meer had often given hints to Shimbekh of his desperate 
attempts to raise Makhpil.  The stress of raising her was beginning to 
erode his marriage.  Though it would be a challenge, Shimbekh liked 
Makhpil, and wanted to give her the home life she needed to grow into a 
secure and happy adult.  It was either that or giving her up to the 
priestly caste for training.  So Ber'meer was absolutely delighted when 
Shimbekh made him an offer.  "Frankly, she scares me.  I think she feels 
it, and she rebels against our authority all the time.  Pardon my 
honesty, but I'm afraid she's going to be another Gur'mekh"
	When Makhpil was weaned, she went to live with Shimbekh.  She was 
told that it was an extended visit, in the hopes that she would grow 
fond of her new parents before the adoption became final.
	Makhpil was sad for perhaps a day.  But once she peered deeply 
into Shimbekh's eyes, she felt the spell of Shimbekh's love.  Like 
Gur'mekh, she was irrestistably drawn to her, drunken with a love she 
had not felt before.  
	Unlike most of the hyenas, Makhpil could easily spot Brin'bi whom 
she called Okhim from the beginning, and she quickly began calling him 
Maleh.
	Shimbekh and Brin'bi did not treat her like a freak, but instead 
wrapped her in a warm, soft blanket of unconditional love.  Under their 
encouragement, she quickly stopped her tantrums, blossoming into a 
vibrant young lady who was polite and anxious to please.
	Makhpil showed every sign of being delighted with Shimbekh and 
Brin'bi, but after one week, she began to look very sad.  She would not 
admit to it, much less discuss it, but she sank into a depression.  
Finally, Shimbekh saw her huddled in a corner of the den they had dug 
her, sobbing.  There was no denying it then.
	"Are you homesick, hon?"
	"No!"  She continued to sob.
	"Well, what's wrong?"
	"You're going to send me back!  I don't want to go home!  They 
don't love me--they're scared of me!"
	"Oh but they do love you.  You frighten them, but you're their 
little girl and they'll always love you."
	"But not the way you do."  Makhpil sniffed, wiping her eyes with a 
paw.  "I like it better here, Muti."
	Shimbekh shuddered.  "Darling, you called me Muti!"
	"I'm sorry."
	"I'm not!"  She fondled her with her paw.  "Honey tree, how would 
you like to be my daughter and live with your Maleh Brin'bi and I?"
	Makhpil's tail began to wag so strongly that her hips shook from 
side to side.  She jumped up and kissed Shimbekh over and over until she 
had to laugh.  "OK, I take it that means yes?"
	Shimbekh now had a family, and though she missed the traditional 
closeness a wife would have to her husband, she adored Brin'bi all the 
more for coming to her unhappy world to keep her company.  In the hard 
times ahead, he was a great comfort to her, as was Makhpil.  Shimbekh 
saw in her what she once was, blithe, innocent and fresh.


CHAPTER 30:  A CHILL WIND

	Lenti tried to raise the children as best she could.  When she 
would leave to go hunting, Krull was left in charge of his sisters.  He 
learned at an early age to take on large responsibilities, something 
that would come into play when he became Roh'mach.  He didn't know it, 
but very soon he would have all the responsibility he could handle.
	The pups were upset.  "Muti is never this late!" Tela squeeled.  
"I want my Muti!"
	"She'll be home soon," Krull said.  It's way past mid-moon now."
	"How do you know she's coming back?" En'geer said quietly.  "How 
do you know?"
	"Because she loves us.  She would find some way to come back, no 
matter what."  He closed his eyes and quietly whispered, "Please God, 
let her come back!"
	Time seemed to drag by.  Krull did not want to admit it, but he 
was on the verge of tears himself.  But he could not cry--he had to be 
strong.  Still, he closed his eyes tightly and silently murmered, 
"Roh'kash ne nabu!  Koh'pim ket ra mispa ojkhim!  Muti ne gris...."
	As if in answer to his prayer, he heard a stirring in the grass.  
But there was also a low moan.  Running out of the den, he saw his okash 
limping, holding up one of her front paws.  There was a large kick wound 
on her shoulder, and a trickle of blood stained the length of her 
forearm.
	"Muti!  What's wrong??"
	"Everything's going to be fine.  It's nothing."
	The pups piled out of the den and began to mob her.  She had no 
lack of help cleaning her wound, and three different offers for support 
in case she could not make it to the den.
	"I've come half a mile like this.  I think I can make it."
	Despite her confidence, she was stiff and ambled very slowly and 
painfully into the comfort of the burrow, where she collapsed exhausted.
	She did her best to keep the wound clean, but it became infected 
and before long she could barely put weight on it.
	Three nights in a row she went out hunting.  Each time, she came 
back late and exhausted.  And she never caught anything.  Finally, she 
stopped trying to hunt and gave in to her growing weakness after she 
collapsed on the trail and had to be helped home.
	Ber tried hard to gather enough food for her and the growing 
children.  He began to grow a little gaunt, for he would eat very little 
and save most of his kills for them.  Lenti could not afford false 
pride.  She accepted the food gratefully, kissing Ber and gradually 
going from calling him Okhim to calling him Maleh.
	A week passed.  The rest had done her no good at all.  In fact, 
she was getting steadily worse.  When Ber brought her the leg from a 
gazelle, she was almost too weak to take a bite.  She pawed his face and 
said, "You're so good to me.  I love you, Maleh."
	"I love you too.  You must get well, you must!"  He nuzzled her 
gently.  "Lenti, pray about it.  Pray as you've never prayed before.  
And you'll know that somewhere I'm praying with you."
	After Ber left, Krull began pulling strips of meat from the 
carcass, mincing them in his teeth, and bringing them to his okash.  
He'd been doing that for a while now, for she was too weak to feed 
herself.  Lenti pawed him and in a faint whisper said, "My special 
little boy!"
	Unable to contain himself any longer, Krull burst into tears.  
"Muti!  Muti!" he sobbed. "You got to get well again!  You just GOT to!"
	"Honey, I'll try my best."  She shivered violently.  "So cold!  
I'm so cold!"
	It was very hot, actually, but her children knew the routine, and 
came and piled on her, their warm bodies giving her comfort.  She began 
to relax.  "Such good children.  Someday I'll make this up to you, I 
promise!"
	She fell into a deep sleep, snoring loudly.  Then shortly after 
mid-sun, she fell silent.  Completely silent.  Krull noticed he could 
not feel her chest rise and fall, and he tried to wake her.
	"Muti!  Wake up, Muti!  Wake up!"  He began to sob.  "Muti, wake 
up!!  Please!!  Mutiii!!"
	She was dead, and through the long afternoon and into the quiet 
evening they huddled in the darkness of the den next to her slowly 
cooling body.
	Finally Ber came by with a rabbit.  "Food!  Come on out, you 
little rascals!"
	Rather than pouncing on the food, they all came and huddled around 
him, sobbing.  He kissed them, then went into the den where he found her 
body.  "Oh, Lenti!"  He bent down and kissed her cheek.  "Find my son.  
Find peace.  Find Roh'kash.  Your suffering is over, and now mine can't 
get any worse."
	Ber and Sildresh opened their hearts to the children, digging a 
new den for them.  The old den was filled in around Lenti.  Ber could 
not bear for her beauty to be disfigured by scavengers.
	"I hope this is the end of the tragedy," Ber said, smoothing the 
dirt evenly where the entrance used to be.
	But it was only the end of the beginning....


CHAPTER 31: TAKA'S WOES

	"I'm coming of age, the time when a lion goes out into The Big 
World to make his fortune," Taka told Sarabi.  "Other than food and 
water, I have one need.  Love, Sassie.  Right now, Mom and Dad still 
love me.  Maybe not as much as Muffy, but they do.  And you love me, 
don't you?"
	"Yes!  How many times do I have to tell you??"
	"Once," Taka said.  "It's time we stated our intentions.  I want 
you."
	"We are not of age.  Not in their eyes at least.  It is corban.  
They would never agree to this."
	"Then don't ask them to.  If you will always love me, pledge to 
me.  I won't ask more until you come to me of your own free will.  But 
we'll go away together.  We'll leave tonight at high moon."
	Sarabi was taken aback.  "I'm honored, really.  But how are you so 
sure you will want me as your lioness?  I mean we're friends, but do you 
really know what you want?"
	He reached out with a paw and fondled her strong, shapely form.  
"Our love could move Heaven and Earth.  It would spread like ripples in 
a pond, growing, spreading, deepening.  You know I want you.  When you 
look at me, when you touch me, I want you.  Sarabi, look at me.  You 
know I want you."
	"I believe you."  She looked away.  "You will be Prince Consort.  
It is foolish to go away when you are wanted here.  It is safe here--out 
there in The Big World it is so uncertain.  We have to think about our 
children."
	"There is only one certainty I want," Taka said.  "Before the 
gods, before the stars, before the assembled host I swear to give you my 
protection, my love, and my comfort forever."  He waited for her reply.  
"Come on, Sarabi.  Say it."
	She started to hold her paw out to touch his, but it trembled and 
she pulled back.
	Taka's head bowed.  "I understand.  You are only a small lioness 
in a big world.  How could you hope to fight destiny?"  In a tone of 
resignation, he slumped sadly and said, "It would be better for all of 
us if I left.  I want to be remembered with some kindness-maybe a little 
regret for what might have been.  And it might have been fine, Sassie."
	Taka headed for the river valley, a predator whose only prey was 
his own self.  Little did he know that he was also stalked by Melmokh 
the Makei.  Behind him trotted an ominous silent shadow without an 
owner.  Taka's self-pity fed the hungry spectre, and renewed his hopes 
of one day realizing his dream to enslave Pride Rock and those who dwell 
about it.
	Finally Taka stood on the edge of the river valley.  What lay 
before him, he was not sure.  Would there be peace at last?  Peace and 
rest from his struggles?
	Melmokh could not sit by and watch the show, though the moment was 
sweet to his great appetite.  He was ready to cast a spell on Taka, but 
Mano appeared, interposing himself between the two.  "You shall not have 
him."
	"Have him?  HIM?  I only plan to keep him from killing himself."
	Mano frowned.  "A kindly gesture?  From you?"
	"Watch me with your own eyes.  I will make him hungry, and I shall 
provide a meal for him."
	"I do not trust you."
	"While you are not trusting me, he's about to jump."
	Mano looked about in alarm to see Taka looking off the edge of the 
cliff.  He had to make a quick decision.  "Look, I'LL make him hungry.  
YOU hunt him some prey.  If this is one of your tricks, I will finish 
you the way I should have long ago."
	"Lord Aiheu, creator of the universe," Taka stammered, "I stand 
far from the rest, alone for I am dying.  Forgive the many hurts I have 
caused.  The night is coming when the breath you gave me will return to 
the heavens.  Gods, help me!  I'm afraid.  Let it be quick.  Aiheu 
abamami!"
	Before he could jump, he heard the death cry of a gazelle, and 
turned.  He could see a lone hyena panting, pulling the hide off a fresh 
kill.
	 "I have fulfilled my part of the bargain," Melmokh said.  "Now I 
will leave him to his meal as I have said.  You may follow me and see 
that I will not even speak to him till sunrise tomorrow."
	"I may do more than that," Mano grumbled.  "I have my own plans 
for him, so just you watch yourself!"
	Of course Melmokh did not promise that he would not talk with 
Fabana, and through her thoughts get a glimpse into the misery of Taka 
to figure out how to consolidate power and have some real say in the 
Pride Lands.  It did not however suffice to fill his whole ambition to 
become permanently manifested.  He was looking for ways to do that.


CHAPTER 32:  OUR LITTLE SECRET

	Since the birth of Simba, Taka had been made one plan after 
another to get rid of his young rival to the throne.  Each in turn was 
discarded for one reason or another.  Then finally he had a plan that 
just might work, one that relied on his hyena allies.  Surely fate had 
guided him to them!  And if fate guided him to the hyenas, fate must 
also decree that he would be King of Pride Rock.  King at last!
	Taka slowly paced up the rocky slopes of Pride Rock.  Silently he 
practiced his elegy for young Simba.  "A gentle, beautiful soul crafted 
from the deep love of his parents, whom the sun and moon smiled upon, 
and the stars called their friend!"  He shook his head.  "A beautiful 
soul crafted from the beautiful love of his parents, now borne to the 
heavens untimely.  The other day, he came to me and said, `Uncle Scar, 
why don't you have a child of your own?'  And I took him close-thank the 
gods I did-and told him that I did have a son.  Or at least in my heart 
I did."  Again, he shook his head.  "He said, `Uncle Scar, it's so sad 
that you don't have a child of your own!'  And I took him close....'"  
He stopped and a tear rolled down his cheek.  "Oh yeah, that should 
wring tears from their hearts.  I wish I'd thought about biting my 
tongue before!  Sheer poetry of grief!"
	He stood on the promontory.  "It is with great sadness that I look 
into the sky tonight.  For the heavens will shine a little brighter with 
his star, but my heart will be darker from this emptiness inside that 
only Simba's sunshine could fill."  He looked down at the imaginary 
audience of lionesses, then placing a paw across his brow in great pain, 
he stared blankly at the distant horizon.  "Oh gods, how low my heart 
sank when I found his little body...."  He smirked.  "Speak of the 
devil, there's the little furball now...."
	Taka realized what he'd just said.  "Oh my gods!  IT CANNOT BE!"
	"Cannot be what, Scar?"
	"Oh, Sarafina!"  He chuckled, holding his paw over his heart.  "I 
thought I saw a cloud-white eagle.  That would have been an omen."
	"I didn't know you were into shamanism."
	"There's a lot about me you don't know."
	With that, Taka turned and slinked off of the promontory.  "Of all 
the idiotic, contemptible, STUPID FOOLS!  I should NEVER have sent Keth 
on a job like that!  Even Shenzi tried to warn me, but no, Keth begged 
me, pleaded with me!  `Oh, let me, let me!'  I'll throw him in the 
thermal pool--that ought to warm his heart!"  
	Taka glanced out across the savanna again and sneered.  There was 
Zazu, escorting His Highness the Furball.  The lion's eyes honed on Zazu 
like twin rapiers.  He would have a little fun with Lord Stuck-up when 
the time came.  Oh, yes...
	Taka resumed his nervous pacing, seething inside.  All Keth had to 
do was take his boys in quietly, overwhelm Mufasa and Simba, and sneak 
out.  A simple plan.  He had gone over it with them several times, and 
Keth had always said, "Simple!  No problem!  All we gotta do is run 
circles around Mustafa-"
	"MuFAsa," Taka would say, patiently.
	"Whatever.  Meanwhile, me and two other of my boys'll take care of 
the cub."
	"And then?"
	Keth would look at him blankly.  Every darned time!  So Taka would 
explain it again.  "The river, you fool!  You don't want to be caught 
eating a lion cub.  You throw him in the river for the crocodiles.  
After you take care of Mufasa.  My gods, what part of that is so hard to 
remember??"
	"Yeah, okay, fine, don't tie your tail in a knot."
	Taka sat on a small patch of grass that had established itself in 
a pocket of the rock.  With one of his claws he was idly making marks in 
the dirt.  "Next time I see you, Keth, I'll demonstrate each of the 
steps on you.  Circles, snatching, ripping you from top to bottom, and 
yes, CROCODILES!"
	Taka had been sure that by high sun, he would be ready to ascend 
the throne.  Now the only thing he would ascend was the stony sloped 
path that led to his favorite resting spot, high above the ground.  Taka 
sighed again and looked back across the rolling plains.  The imbeciles 
had been spotted as soon as they crossed into the Pride Lands by that 
triple cursed Zazu.  Gods, his eyes missed nothing!  Mufasa had sent the 
bird back to escort his beloved hairball home while he dealt with the 
intruders.
	Taka gnashed his teeth.  At least he wouldn't have to discipline 
the hyenas himself--his brother was taking care of that.  "Another day, 
another plan," he sighed.
	"But what if they betrayed me??"  The thought almost made his 
blood freeze.  Mufasa was a large lion--a very large lion.  Chances were 
good to excellent that he would end up with several more scars at least.  
Then would come banishment--or death.  And death would almost be a mercy 
because he had no hunting skills.  The best he could hope for would be a 
scavenging existance among the hyenas.
	"If he attacks me, should I run at once, or try to fight first?"  
It was a dismal choice, and there was no certainty that the lionesses 
would accept him if he DID beat Simba in combat.  They might rise up 
against him as a group....  Angry and frustrated, he swatted an 
offending bone out of his path and stalked across the rock ledge.
	"Hey, Uncle Scar!  Guess what?"
	Taka froze, then resignedly looked around.  "I despise guessing 
games," he muttered.
	Simba missed this and trotted up, grinning from ear to ear.  "I'm 
gonna be King of Pride Rock!"
	"Oh, goody," Taka growled.  "I can hardly wait."
	"My dad just showed me the whole kingdom," the cub said, trotting 
to the edge of the cliff and looking out over the immense expanse of 
grassland.  "And I'm gonna rule it all," he said proudly, chuckling at 
his good fortune.
	While he was bragging, Taka's eyes gleamed like diamonds, hard and 
cold.  He began to fantasize.  The cub stood on the brink of the cliff, 
his paws placed delicately on the rough edge of rock....  Taka could 
creep over silently, draw back a forepaw and swat the cub with all his 
might.  Then he could watch as Simba sailed outward, a scream trailing 
from his throat as he tumbled down, down, down....
	He shook his head.  Too risky.  Too many questions would be asked, 
and there would be no answers.  Instead, he dredged up a weak smile as 
Simba glanced at him.  "Yes, well, forgive me for not leaping for joy."  
Taka shrugged apologetically.  "Bad back, you know."  He turned away and 
flopped to the ground rather ungracefully, ignoring the brat for the 
time being.
	At least until he heard footsteps behind him.  Taka gritted his 
teeth as Simba flopped across his neck, nuzzing his ear.  "Hey, Uncle 
Scar?  When I'm king, what'll that make you?"
	"A monkey's uncle."
	Simba giggled delightedly and rolled away.  "You're so weird!"  he 
laughed.  Uncle Scar never ordered Simba around, or tried to make him 
wash behind his ears, or anything.  In fact, he pretty much left Simba 
to do as he wished.
	Taka rose and shook himself, then walked lazily over to the other 
side of the ledge.  "So," he said over his shoulder.  "Your father 
showed you the whole kingdom, did he?"
	"Everything!"
	Taka wondered at this.  "He didn't show you what's beyond that 
rise on the Northen border?"
	Simba's face crumpled, his ears flattening dejectedly.  "Well, no.  
He said I can't go there."  The cub looked decidedly put out.
	A new hope gladdened Taka, and he had to fight to hold a stern 
expression.  "And he's absolutely right!" he ad-libbed.  "It's FAR too 
dangerous; only the bravest lions go there."  He let the bait dangle 
invitingly, looking away at the horizon.
	Simba bit hard.  "Well I'M brave!  What's out there?"
	"Oh, I'm sorry, Simba, I just CAN'T tell you."  He looked the 
other way, avoiding Simba's hurt gaze.
	"Why not?"
	Taka looked at him paternally.  "Simba, Simba, I'm only looking 
out for the well being of my favorite nephew."  He raised a paw and 
caressed the cub's head lovingly, feeling the shape of the skull 
underneath.  One tight clench of his paw....
	Simba wriggled delightedly under his uncle's touch.  "Yeah, right.  
I'm your ONLY nephew."
	Taka smiled. "All the more reason for me to be protective!"  His 
smile faded and he shook his head again, looking stern.  "An elephant 
graveyard is no place for a young prince."  He slapped a paw to his 
mouth as if to stop himself.  "Oooops!"
	Simba was not just excited, he was ecstatic.  "An elephant WHAT?!  
Whoaaa!"  A look of total mischief fell over his face and he looked 
eagerly towards the dark area across the grassland.
	Taka moaned.  "Oh dear, I've said too much!  Well, I suppose you'd 
have found out sooner or later, you being SOOOO clever and all."  His 
grin twisted as he drew Simba to him.  "Oh just do me one favor," he 
added softly.  "Promise me you'll never visit that DREADful place."
	Simba was silent for a moment, then smiled innocently.  "No 
problem."
	The grin on Taka's face was genuine. Taka could read his eyes like 
a book; the little snotnose was certain to visit the graveyard at the 
first opportunity!  
	"There's a good lad.  You run along now and have fun."  He brushed 
Simba away and watched him trot off.  "And remember..."
	Simba stopped and looked at him curiously.
	"...it's out little secret."
	The cub grinned and sped off.  Taka watched him go, the smile on 
his face curdling into something else entirely.  He rose and stretched, 
claws extending to their full length, looking dark and smooth, then 
relaxed, watching as they sank back partway and stopped, the tips still 
showing, gleaming razor sharp in the afternoon light.  Nodding, he shook 
himself briskly and set off down the side of the rocks.
	He had a little visit to make.


CHAPTER 33:  THE OTHER LION

	Mufasa paced slowly along the edge of the Pride Lands, sniffing 
warily at the air.  The sky had begun to darken from blue to crimson 
orange in the west, and the moon was wakening to its full glory.  But 
Mufasa paid scant notice to the beautiful sight, his mind fixed on the 
sinister tumble of rock and bone that lay some distance away.
	The graveyard had a certain fascinating quality to it, and he felt 
the same lure that young Simba did to plumb its mysteries.  It was a 
hotbed of smoke and mists which arose from the ground in huge shadowy 
gasps that choked off breath and made eyes water.  He wondered why the 
elephants would find such a dismal place to go meet Aiheu.
	Besides, there were also the hyenas to consider....
	His hackles rose at the thought of them.  He had followed Zazu's 
directions and intercepted a group of the miserable creatures a little 
ways inside his territory.  At the sight of his approach, they had 
hesitated momentarily, as if considering, but the enraged bellow that 
had broken from his throat decided them, scattering them in panic and 
sending them fleeing back to their own homeland.  Mufasa had let them 
go, allowing them to warn the others that The King was on guard.
	He had plenty of ground to cover before he could go home.  So 
after leaving a few signs of his passing, he tore himself away from the 
realm of the dead and padded off silently.
	He had not gone far when a strange scent made him freeze in his 
tracks.  He looked down and in the dim light saw what looked like lion 
tracks.  He sniffed carefully.
	A strange lion!
	Another male had dared intrude on the Pride Lands!  The tracks led 
out of the savanna and towards the graveyard.  His cubs had been in 
danger--his home had been violated!  Growling with rage, Mufasa turned 
and lumbered rapidly over the ground, eyes never leaving the trail in 
front of him.  He reached the invisible boundary of the Clan, balked for 
a minute, then plunged ahead.  Hyenas were one thing; lions another.  
Such an act dared not go unpunished.
	He wended his way among the bones and ash, flicking his paws 
disgustedly as he stepped through a puddle of vile muck too wide to 
leap.  Gods, what a miserable hellhole!
	"Sire!  Sire!"
	Mufasa skidded to a halt as Zazu shot past and nearly submerged 
himself in the stinking morass that the lion had just traversed.  The 
hornbill sighed in relief as Mufasa looked on, astounded.  "What in the 
world are--"
	"Sire!  You have to hurry!  Simba's in trouble!"
	Mufasa's jaw snapped shut and he stared at Zazu.  "What?"
	"Quickly!  Follow me!  Oh, this is awful!"  Zazu rose, dripping, 
and flapped away towards a twisted rock formation several lengths away.  
Mufasa padded after him, noting that the pawprints of the lion led that 
way also.  And mixed in with them were--
	His eyes widened in alarm as he saw the twin sets of tiny 
pawprints, clearly leonine, scattered among the bigger ones.  
	"No!"
	His ears pricked up as he heard a distant shriek of terror.  
"Nala!"  Galvanized, he leapt ahead, following the trail of prints 
around a corner, through a narrow stone gap, and finally into a cave.  
He blinked as he saw Simba and Nala, huddled under an old ribcage 
festooned with dried skin.  The object of their fears were the three 
hyenas that now stood with their backs to Mufasa as they closed slowly 
on the cubs.  One he recognized as Roh'mach Shenzi, and a silent snarl 
spread his lips apart in a deadly grimace.
	Ahead, Simba growled roughly, the small sound echoing in the 
confined area.
	"What?  That was it?"  Shenzi giggled and bent close.  "You can do 
better than that.  Come on, big boy."  She bared her teeth and bent 
towards the terrified cubs, preparing to rip out his throat, when the 
room was filled with a fierce roar.  Something powerful struck the side 
of her head, sending her and her brothers sprawling.  Looking up, she 
saw Mufasa, cuffing her brothers aside effortlessly, his roar drilling 
through her head and paralyzing her with fear.  Another swipe of 
Mufasa's paw landed her brothers beside her, and his huge head loomed 
over her, eyes glowing with a killing rage.
	"Oh please don't hurt us!!"
	"Uncle, Uncle," Banzai cried in desperation.
	Simba and Nala stood transfixed, limbs shaking in the fatigue of 
terror as the king berated the hyenas and sent them bolting in blind 
panic.  Simba writhed in shame as he recalled his own puny roar.  He 
ambled forward slowly, looking up at Mufasa with great reluctance.  
"Dad, I--"
	He shrank away as Mufasa glanced at him, eyes blazing furiously.  
"You deliberately disobeyed me!"
	"Dad, I--"
	"Let's go home."  He turned to go, glancing around.  "I want to 
leave before we run into the other...."
	The king fell silent as he stared back at the way they had come.  
The ground was marked by the prints of the two cubs, his own, and the 
tracks of the three terrified hyenas.  But where the deep pawprints of 
the intruding lion had been, there was now only smoothly packed earth, 
marked only by time and the winds.


CHAPTER 34:  THE ELEPHANT GRAVEYARD

	Taka shook his head slowly and rubbed his temple with a forepaw, 
trying to massage away the headache that had formed there.  "I'm 
surrounded by idiots."
	He looked down his nose at Fabana's brood feasting on the zebra 
haunch he had tossed to them.  How did they stand it in this hellhole?  
There they lay, stuffing themselves happily, wonderfully oblivious to 
how much more their lives could be, if only....
	He shifted and angrily swatted a stone away, listening to the 
sharp CRACK as it ricocheted off the granite columns around him.  If 
only....  His whole existence seemed to be made of if's.  IF he had been 
picked to be king instead of Muffy...IF Sarabi had not spurned his 
affections...IF that hairball had not been born....  His anger rose to 
the surface and he glared hotly at Shenzi.  "Pfahh.  Some Roh'mach!  Two 
defenseless cubs!  And you let them get away."
	"Defenseless?!"  Banzai  indicated his torn rump.  "I'd hate to 
see them when they're ready for a fight!"
	"He's right."  Shenzi returned Taka's glare.  "It wasn't exactly 
like they was alone, Scar."
	"Yeah!  What were we supposed to do?!"  Banzai chewed and 
swallowed a huge chunk of flesh, belching horribly.  "Kill Mufasa?"  The 
three hyenas laughed.
	Taka's eyes flared as his mind began working, coming to life with 
terrifying speed.  A huge grin spread across his face as he leered over 
the stone ledge at the hyenas, who grew suddenly silent at his gaze.
	"Precisely."
	Taka stood and stretched, luxuriating in the feeling.  He bounded 
from his perch to land quietly in front of Shenzi.  Banzai and Ed 
scrambled away madly, and Shenzi could only stare, spellbound, at the 
apparition before her.  Taka met her gaze, his eyes burning with an 
inner light, matching the phosphorescent green hue of the methane pits 
around them, each fueled by its own inner decay.  Steam hissed from a 
nearby thermal vent in a white exclamation of heat, and she bit her 
tongue to keep from shrieking.
	Taka saw the fear on her face and drew close.  "Calm, my dear," he 
purred.  "You have nothing to fear from me.  Through me your people will 
find salvation."
	Shenzi's trembling stilled, her eyes widening.  Had not Roh'kash 
herself said, "I will send you a sign.  From thine enemy will come 
deliverance; your greatest fear shall be your greatest hope."  Shenzi 
had despaired of ever seeing the sign in her lifetime.  Now she fell 
before Taka, her eyes misting.  "Roh'kash ne nabu!  Praise God!"
	Taka bent and kissed her forehead.  "Rise, Shenzi.  Rise before 
your new king.  For I swear to you: by the sunset tomorrow, I will 
release you from this torment."
	"How?"
	"It will not be easy.  I will need your help."
	"Of course!"  But the Roh'mach's ears perked up at that.  "Messiah 
or no, he still needs us," she realized.  The thought turned in her mind 
slowly, a dark and tantalizing morsel that made her grin.  Perhaps this 
was another sign from Roh'kash Herself.  The Mother of All would not 
lead her children out of despair only to lick the paws of a lion, even 
such a one as Taka.  Oh, no.  Something greater beckoned, and Shenzi saw 
a vision of herself at the tip of Pride Rock, much as Gur'mekh had 
before her.  She could feel the wind caress her as she looked out over 
the green savanna, pups playing at her heels, with all the kingdom 
bowing before her in homage.  She smiled, genuinely this time, and 
nodded to Taka.
	"Whatever assistance you need, you have but to ask."
	The lion grinned again, and turned to look at the assembled host 
of hyenas who had silently gathered behind him.  He scanned their ranks, 
only half noticing, his thoughts centered on the spire of Rock that lay 
across the plain.
	"It appears the great Mufasa is willing to risk life and limb to 
save his son, even to the extent of coming into the graveyard alone.  
Did you note this, Banzai?"
	"Yeah, boss."
	"Did you note it most carefully?  Did you really?"  Taka peered at 
him intrested, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.  "And what conclusion did 
you draw?"
	Banzai swallowed.  "Uhh, he wasn't worried about himself?  Just 
Simba?"
	"Brilliant!  I shall make you a warlord in my new army."  Taka 
laughed, a strangely empty sound.  The lion looked around at the 
desolation, the age old kingdom of bone and stone that the hyenas had 
existed in for years, and spat.  He lifted his head and stared again at 
the finger of rock where his brother lay sleeping without a care in the 
world.  Taka's claws extended slowly and raked across the stone at the 
thought of Mufasa snuggled close to Sarabi, sharing her warmth, or even 
greater comforts....
	He gritted his teeth and willed the vision away.  It went easily 
enough; it had tormented him many times over the past few months, and it 
waited with infinite paitence, knowing it would have its chance again.
	Taka looked up at the crescent moon overhead.  "The time has come 
to break free from the mud and climb to the heights.  The curse that has 
harmed me all my days must and shall be dispelled.  I am through RE-
acting.  It is time to ACT.  And you, my brother, had best be prepared."


CHAPTER 35: THE GORGE

	"...but know, thou noble youth,
	The serpent that did sting thy father's life
	Now wears his crown."
				--SHAKESPEARE: HAMLET: ACT I, SCENE V

	It was the end of the world.  Or close enough not to make a 
difference, anyway.
	The thought raced through Simba's fear maddened mind as he 
sprinted down the length of the gorge, his short legs flailing madly as 
he fought to keep ahead of the maelstrom behind him.  The ground shook 
under his feet, sand spraying into his eyes as the leading edge of the 
wildebeest stampede began to pass by him on either side.  Sharp hooves 
dug into the ground inches from his face, and he flinched away, 
scrambling madly to keep from being trampled.  He glanced up at the 
bleating wildebeests and stumbled, paws flailing as he fought to keep 
his balance.  He regained his footing and continued, tides of air 
rushing in and out of his lungs as he strained to keep ahead of the 
onrushing herd.
	Ahead a dark shape hove into view; a twisted and gnarled remnant 
of a small tree, withered and half dead.  Simba lunged for it, 
scrabbling up the old wood to the top.  The one remaining limb swayed 
and creaked dangerously as he made his way onto it, tail flicking from 
side to side rapidly in an effort to stay balanced.  One foot slipped, 
and his haunches slid out from under him.  His front claws scored deep 
wounds into the old wood as he felt himself sliding over the side.
	"Oh gods," he thought, "I'm gonna FALL--"
	His claws finally caught, and he laboriously hauled himself atop 
the limb, clutching it with fearful strength as he saw the wildebeest 
flowing past him like some insane river, their bleats and bellows of 
panic punctuating the constant thunder of their hooves.
	High above, Zazu passed over the edge of the gorge wall and dipped 
his wings, plummeting into the crevasse as he scanned the ground 
rapidly.  Squinting through the dusty haze, he saw the cub perched on an 
old limb and flew to him, fighting to keep his altitude in the roiling 
air.
	"Zazu, help me!"
	"Your father is on the way!"  Zazu shouted.  "Hold on!"
	"Hurrrrry!"  Simba screeched, as he slipped again, feeling the 
limb creak agin under his weight.
	Zazu shot away towards an overhanging ledge where Mufasa and Taka 
were sliding down the slope, paws scuffing in the dirt for purchase.  
Ascending, he flew to Mufasa's side and pointed with one wing.  "There!  
There, on that tree!"
	Mufasa looked and felt his blood freeze up.  Sweet Aiheu...  "Hold 
on, Simba!" he bellowed.
	A passing wildebeest bumped the tree, shaking it with a loud 
CRACK! that all of them heard.  Simba screamed in sheer blind panic as 
he felt the tree shift again, and saw splinters poking out from a break 
in the wood.  Closing his eyes, he began to rapidly recite the prayer 
his mother had taught him when he was still nursing at her side:

	God bless us all, from king to cub
	  All members of my pride
	The kings above will show their love
	  And take me to their side
	My star will shine with Aiheu's grace
	  Amid the midnight sky
	There to stand and guard the land
	  Forever when I --

	His voice stuck on the last word, his head shaking in mute 
negation as tears began to run down his cheeks.  "Oh God, I don't want 
to die!"
	Mufasa stared for a second, then clenched his jaw and leapt from 
the perch on the ledge, flinging himself into the stampede below.  Taka 
and Zazu watched disbelievingly as they saw him weaving in and out 
between the panicked creatures with infinite grace.  Zazu watched in 
horror, Taka in absolute glee.
	"He's going to get himself killed," they thought simeltaneously.
	It was a dance of survival as Mufasa swerved among the jostling 
bodies armed with hooves, horns, and unstoppable speed.
	Swept along in its irresistable crushing tide, Mufasa struggled to 
find Simba in the dust.
	Next to him, a hapless gnu stumbled.  Quickly she was overwhelmed 
and fatally battered, her dying shriek piercing Mufasa like a thorn.  
"No time to be afraid," he thought.  "I must find him!"
	Looming ahead was a branch.  Dangling over certain death was a 
hysterical cub.  "Simba!"
	Zazu flapped about, near insane with panic.  "Oh, Scar, this is 
awful!  What are we going to do? What are we going to do?"  He looked at 
Mufasa again, missing the look of annoyance that swept Taka's features.  
The hornbill straightened as Taka raised a forepaw.  "I'll go back for 
help!!  That's what I'll do, I'll go back fo--"
	Sudden dark descended as Taka backhanded the bird, sending him 
smashing into the rock wall with an audible crunch.  Taka glanced at 
him, wondering if he had killed the idiot, when he saw the slow rise and 
fall of Zazu's chest.  Unconcious, then.  He raised a paw to finish the 
job when he was distracted by a cry from below.
	Mufasa grunted in pain as he was slammed backward, sprawling in 
the dirt.  Raising his head, he gaped in horror as a wildebeest collided 
with the old tree, breaking it with a final rotten crack.  Simba was 
flung up and away, screaming as he tumbled through the air, legs 
flailing desperately as he saw the ground rushing up at him--
	--to be replaced by Mufasa's jaws.  The lion leapt through the 
air, catching Simba gently and bearing him off towards the side of the 
gorge.  He dodged a cow, and sidestepped another--
	--his rear foot slipped.  A bull came rushing from the dust, 
ramming him with terrible force, eliciting a roar of pain as he felt the 
horns tear his side.  Simba was flung uncerimoniously away and landed 
amongst a sea of pounding hooves.  Afraid to move, he sidesteped 
desperately, watching the bull as it passed overhead, feeling the 
thrumming inder his feet.  A warm grip surrounded him, and he felt 
Mufasa's breath upon him again as he was swept up in his father's jaws.
	Mufasa ran through the deadly flood, the rumbling shaking him to 
the core, and the smell of sweat, fear, and dust pouring in with each 
gasp.
	"Help me!  Please, God, help me!"
	He looked for a ledge, however small.  Working his way to the 
edge, he considered trying to ride it out, but he was grazed by horns.  
One more inch and he would have been gored!
	Finally he saw a place.  He leaped, sat his child down, and 
grabbed for purchase.  
	He was rudely ripped away as a group of wildebeest crashed into 
him, bearing him off into the dust.
	"DAD!"  Simba screamed, horrified.  He searched the ground 
desperately, his eyes continually drawn by the passing wildebeest.  
Nothing.  And nothing.  And still nothing.  Oh gods, where was he?!
	Mufasa's legs hurt, his heart pounded, and his lungs were about to 
burst.  He managed to see an exit.  "Oh gods!"
	A rumbling roar tore at the air as he launched himself through the 
air, slamming into the rock wall of the gorge and driving the air from 
his lungs.  He paused a minute, then scrabbled his way up the slope, 
fighting for purchase.  He began to slip down ever so slowly, and 
desperately fought the pull of his own weight.  "Help me!  God help me!"
	Taka paced slowly along the gorge wall, observing the turn of 
events.  This was not supposed to happen, not at ALL.  Not only had 
Simba escaped injury, but his oaf of a brother had fought his way clear 
of the stampede and was making his way to safety even now.
	A whisper spoke in his brain.  "And what happens when he finds out 
about the surprise that he was supposed to have?"
	"I don't know," Taka muttered.
	"Yes you do.  He'll finish you.  You have to kill him NOW, before 
it's too late!"
	"No!  I've messed things up enough already."
	"Would you rather die?  This goes far beyond banishment, imbecile.  
This is treason.  Kill him!!"
	Taka stood uncertainly at the edge of the cliff, watching as 
Mufasa dragged his way up, unaware of the shadow which pooled behind 
him, black as midnight despite the dust which obscured the sun's rays.  
He felt a sudden urge to plunge into the herd below and end this insane 
dance once and for all.  No more pain.
	"Scar!!"
	Snapping out of his reverie, he looked to see Mufasa just below 
him.  The huge muscular legs scrabbled desperately for purchase, finding 
none.
	"Brother!!  Help me!"
	"Ohh, so now it's `brother,'" Taka thought, a red haze of hatred 
obscuring his vision.  "Fat lot of good all that strength does you now, 
eh?"
	"Scar!! Please!!"
	Taka glared at the lion below him.  He had a vivid memory of 
Mufasa's rage as he shouted, "Is that a challenge?"
	At the time, he'd meekly said, "Oh, I wouldn't DREAM of 
challenging you!"  Now he not only dreamed it.  It was within his grasp.  
For a while he enjoyed the feeling of power.  He gloried in the turn of 
the tide.
	Taka lunged down, burying his claws knuckle deep in Mufasa's 
forelegs.  Mufasa shrieked in pain as he felt the needle sharp claws 
tear into his flesh.  Warm blood began to run down his legs as he stared 
into Taka's face, uncomprehending.
	Taka's face split into a grin.  Slowly, visciously, he intoned,  
"Long live the king."
	Mufasa looked pleadingly at Taka.  Only then did he realize that 
Taka hated him and wanted him dead.  His jaw trembled.
	He was ripped from the wall and flung outwards, the sky and ground 
exchanging places rapidly, a shriek of horror following him down, down 
into the living torrent.
	The air blistered and rippled nearby, several wildebeest shying 
away as Mano plunged into the canyon, crying out soundlessly as he saw 
Ahadi's son vanishing into the stampede.  He ran towards the spot, 
passing through several animals.  
	He padded up slowly, peering through the swirling dust as the last 
of the wildebeest shot past.  Tears sprang to his eyes as he saw the 
magnificent body lying in a bloody sprawl at the base of the tree which 
had borne Simba up long enough for Mufasa to rescue him.  Mano saw that 
Mufasa was mortally wounded.  He came close and nuzzled the torn face, 
which responded slowly.  Mufasa painfully lifted his head, eyes dawning 
with recognition as he saw the white lion standing before him.  The 
silver-blue eyes looked kindly into his amber ones as he felt the pain 
slip away.
	"Sleep, my friend."  Mano kissed his cheek and bore the great head 
to the ground with his paw.  There was a moments hesitation, then the 
broken body breathed its last and was still.
	There was an electric feeling of anticipation in the air, and 
suddenly Mufasa's Ka was before him, whole and magnificent, untouched by 
pain or worry.  The shook himself uncertainly, feeling the tingle upon 
his skin of the spirit which stood before him.  He lowered his head and 
extended a forepaw.  "Incosi Mano.  I touch your mane."
	"I feel it."  Mano nuzzled him gently.  "You must come with me."
	Mufasa moved to join him, but was stopped short as he beheld his 
son coming through the dusty air, crying his name.  "Simba!  I must go 
to him!  I must go to him!"
	"No!" Mano restrained him with a paw.  "You must NOT go to him.  
You have gone down the left fork, and he is headed down the right.  But 
I will find a way out for him."


CHAPTER 36: AMONG THE DUNES

	Beyond the gorge lay the thorns, and beyond the thorns lay the 
land where even thorns would not grow.  It was the desert, the place of 
lost hope.
	The wind blew slowly but steadily across the face of the dunes, 
carrying a light misting of sand with it as it blew into Simba's face, 
making him squint, his eyes burning.  There were no rich earthy smells 
of life--it was the sterile smell of solitude.
	A faint whistling sound caught his ears, and as he topped a rise, 
he saw the skull of a small animal, bleached white in the sun and picked 
clean by vultures.  No jackal would come to that forsaken place.  Simba 
blinked at it for a moment, peering into the eyesockets, and seeing the 
clean white interior polished by the grit-laden wind.  He could see 
himself lying there.  Perhaps his turn would come over the next dune, or 
beyond that range....
	He padded slowly down the soft face of the dune, floundering in 
the soft sand for a moment before regaining his footing.  The hot wind 
gusted again, driving needles of grit into his face and bringing no 
relief from the heat.  "I deserve it," he thought.  He couldn't imagine 
what being trampled to death was like, but surely it had to be worse 
than lying on the sand to sleep and never wake up.  "Dad, come for me 
when I die.  I'm sorry!  I'm so sorry!"
	Simba shook his head and gasped, breathing rapidly.  Struggling 
through the sand, he began to run, mindlessly fleeing the thoughts that 
tore at him, wishing he could only find a place to lay for a moment and 
rest.  Heart pounding, he fled acros the featureless face of the desert, 
just one more golden speck in that vast sea of sand.
	The ground abruptly firmed beneath him, and he was scrambling 
across the hardpan, the bed of a long forgotten lake, now rough and 
unyielding in the sun's merciless onslaught.  He slowed, panting 
hoarsely, unable to continue at the rapid pace, padding slowly across 
the ground.  The heat hammered at him from the firm sand, the imbedded 
salt deposits glittering like a spray of diamonds caught in the earth.  
The glare blinded him, and he slitted his eyes, paws quietly pat-a-
pattering against the hardpan.
	And then something glimmered far ahead.
	Simba sat, shading his watering eyes with a forepaw as he fought 
to see, his thirst-swollen tongue hanging limply from his mouth.  It 
shimmered invitingly, a quicksilver gleam at the edge of his vision.
	Water.  Oh gods, WATER!!
	He rose and padded towards it rapidly, then began to trot.  Soon 
he was running, his tired and dangerously overheated muscles running off 
some unknown inner reservoir,  the sweat-matted fur on his forehead 
flying as he ran, oh gods it would taste so good, he wouldn't even slow 
down, he would just sprint full tilt into it, splashing happily as he 
drank, he would roll in it, he would....
	He slowed, his eyes gaping in disbelief as he saw the edge of the 
water begin to recede from him, the shoreline backing away as he came 
closer.  Padding to a stop, he gaped at the glimmering lake ahead, 
wondering what was happening.  His mouth fell open and he uttered a dull 
croak.  "Uh?"
	High above him, an answering croak returned from a soaring 
vulture.  Its mate heard and responded.  Soon they were joined by a 
third, and then others as the avian sentinels began to circle in cold 
anticipation.
	Simba stood unaware of this, his mind trembling on the edge of 
awareness.  He broke into a shambling run again, moaning as the 
waterline receded again...again...small islands of sand appeared in the 
water, slowly growing in size till there were only remnants of the 
sparkle that had deceived him.
	The cub arrived on the spot where the beautiful lake had been to 
see only more sand.  Dry, hot sand.  He had discovered the how cruel the 
desert could be.  His jaw began to tremble as tears came to his eyes.
	Running was no use.  Soon he would be back with his father.  He 
stumbled on a few more steps, then toppled, the hard desert floor 
catching him with a dull thud.  Simba laid on the sand, paws stirring 
weakly in restless motion as the heat drew at him.  Tears cut clean 
courses through the dusty fur on his cheeks as he lay quiescent, unable 
to fight anymore, waiting for the end to come.  "Mother!" he cried 
weakly.  "Mother!"  
	A terrible weight clutched at his chest as he thought of her.  He 
would never see her until her time came in the years to come.  Nala was 
always such a good friend.  Did she know he was dying?  And after Scar 
told the pride of what he had done, would she even care?  Sarafina was 
always so kind to him, like an aunt.  And Uncle Scar--oh how 
disappointed he had looked!  His brother lay dead.  Simba's father.  
Sarabi's husband.  "Mother!"  He sobbed again.
	A soft lioness voice called to him.  "Take heart, my son."
	Against all hope, could his mother have heard him?  He looked up 
and saw nearby a cloud white lioness on the sand.  "Come to me.  You are 
in need.  I can help you."
	"I'm seeing things again!  You're not real!"
	"If I'm not real, how do I do this?"  She let out a puff of breath 
and in moments a cool breeze swept over Simba.  It felt wonderful."
	Simba stared, awestruck.  "You're real!  You're really her!  
Minshasa!"
	She smiled.  "You know me?  Then you must know I won't hurt you."
	Simba struggled to his feet and stumbled over to her.  He fell 
before her, face down.  Tears began to run down his face.  "Please help 
my dad!  Do one of your miracles!  He's in the gorge back to the east!  
Please make him come back!  He's dead, and it's all my fault!"  He 
sobbed until he shook.
	"Your father is with God.  It is too late to help him."
	"Are you here to take me too?"
	"Not this time."  She purred.  "I am in my milk.  You are a little 
old for this, but I think it would be all right this once."  
	Simba dragged himself to her side.  He snuggled up against her 
belly, nuzzling the soft fur in obvious embarrassment but desperate for 
sustenance.  He fed slowly, feeling strength returning to his limbs, the 
trembling muscles relaxing at last.  He lay quietly, eyes half closed, 
lulled by the sound of Minshasa's breathing and the steady beat of her 
heart, the sounds evoking memories from far back in a haven of comfort, 
safety and love.
	Presently, he looked up, milk running down his chin.  Minshasa 
cleaned him off with her tongue, then began to groom him.  He purred.
	"What can I do, Minshasa?  Where can I go?"
	"Follow the setting sun.  It will take you to a safe place."
	"But can't I stay with you?"
	"No, son."
	"Please?"
	"No, Simba.  Your destiny lies to the west."
	"You know who I am?"
	"Yes, and what's more, I know why you're here."
	He looked down.  "Oh."
	Tears streamed down her face.  "Simba, my precious little boy!"  
She nuzzled him and he came and huddled against her comforting bulk, 
sobbing brokenly.  "Poor little child!  So much grief, so much pain!"
	"All my fault!"
	She began to groom him, her warm tongue washing away his tears in 
its rough caress.  "Poor little Simba.  So tired, little Simba.  So 
tired."
	Simba yawned, barely able to keep his eyes open.  "I am kind of 
tired."  He yawned again.
	"So tired," she repeated like a meditation.  "So tired.  Sleep 
now.  Yes, sleep.  Sleep soundly, and when you do, forget you saw me 
here.  Forget, Simba.  Forget everything but this: follow the setting 
sun.  It will take you to a safe place."
	Simba surrendered to the enchantment, falling into a deep, 
dreamless sleep.  Minshasa bent and gripped the cub in her jaws 
tenderly, lifting him easily enough.  Turning, she trotted away 
westward, paws kicking up gentle spurts of sand as she moved.  A few 
moments later, her outline shimmered slightly, and she bacame faintly 
translucent, Simba following suit.  She began to pick up speed, paws 
moving rapidly over the ground, yet not disturbing the sand in the 
slightest.  Mishasa ran steadily, tirelessly, heedless of the motal 
constraints of fatigue and thirst as she flew across the desert surface.  
And the cub in her jaws slept soundly.  Having been drawn into the 
twilight world between Ma'at and the spirit realm, he also felt no 
thirst or hunger, but passed the moments in the gentle cradle of sleep.
	Minshasa continued onward well into the night, the moon's glow 
welcome but not neccessary.  As she breasted yet another dune, she 
slowed, tensing.  Pacing forward, she felt a tingling sensation pass 
over her body.  She stopped, stretching out with all her senses, 
physical and otherwise, then nodded slowly.  She had passed beyond the 
edge of Melmokh's malign influence.  Heaving a sigh of relief, she 
turned to continue onward and froze.
	Standing atop the dune in front of her sat a solitary lion, his 
pure white fur gleaming mellowly in the moonlight.  He looked at her 
silently as she slowly padded over to him, laying Simba down gently and 
then looking at him, her eyes pleading.
	He shook his head.  "I'm sorry.  We cannot interfere any more.  
Melmokh cannot reach him this far away, and Simba must make his own path 
from here."
	"Mano, we cannot just leave him!  Too much depends on him!"
	He looked at her sternly.  "Would you cripple him, springing to 
his side whenever he faces trials?"  His voice softened.  "No, my love.  
It must be this way."  He kissed her gently.  "He must face his destiny.  
All we can do is to keep the balance.  Aiheu will not forsake him."
	"I know.  But look how small he is.  He cannot survive by 
himself."
	"I have arranged that," Mano said gently.  "Someone who can 
understand him and who will love him."
	"Husband," she cooed, nuzzling Mano.  But she quickly turned back 
to the cub.  She trembled as she looked at Simba lying on the sand.  
Bending down to the cub, she kissed his cheek softly.  "Your feet tread 
a stony path, one you must follow to its end, my child.  But do not 
despair--it leads back to Aiheu."
	With one last glance, the two walked away to the west, fading 
slowly from sight, becoming transparent, then slowly discorporating, 
their outlines dancing in the moonlight like motes of dust.  A light 
wind skidded across the desert floor, swirling the dust into a haphazard 
pattern to conceal their tracks.


CHAPTER 37:  ASLEEP ON THE JOB

	After a discrete pause to allow the new king to try to compose 
himself, Zazu respectfully requested an audience with Taka to discuss a 
personal matter.  The lion readily agreed, and the two wandered off to a 
quiet corner of Pride Rock where they could talk undisturbed.
	"Now then, my loyal friend."  Taka summoned up a smile and nodded 
to the hornbill.  "What's on your mind?"
	"Well, Sire...I'm rather loath to breach the subject at a time 
like this..."
	"Oh come come, we're all friends here."
	"Well..." Zazu rubbed his primaries together nervously.  "Back in 
the gorge, I was going to fly away and summon some more help to rescue 
the young prince-"
	Taka dropped his head.  "God rest his soul," he said quietly.
	"Indeed."  Zazu cleared his throat, wondering if it might not be 
such a bad idea to drop the subject altogether.
	Finally, Taka lifted his head, eyes bright.  "I'm sorry.  Do go 
on."
	"Well, I must have struck something...because I don't remember 
what happened."
	"Oh, my, yes!"  Taka looked distressed.  "Gods, Zazu, I've been 
terribly remiss; I remember finding you lying there on the ledge!  ARE 
you quite all right?"
	"Why...yes, Sire."
	"Excellent!"  Taka breathed a sigh of relief.  "At least you did 
not suffer any grievous injuries.  Heaven knows there's been enough of 
that today."  He looked at Zazu shyly.  "You know, my brother didn't 
think of you as his servant.  He used to refer to you as "Little 
Brother" when he spoke of you."
	"He did?"  Zazu was clearly caught off guard.
	"Bezraak the Fish Eagle was keen on getting the job.  Mind you, he 
was stronger, sharper sighted, and a prince in his own right.  He would 
have looked impressive perched next to Mufasa when visitors came by.  If 
he'd made the right administrative decision, my little friend, there 
would have been no contest.  But you had something Bezraak did not 
have."
	"What was that?" Zazu asked, greatly interested.
	"Mufasa's heart."  Taka put a paw across his eyes.  "He turned 
Bezraak down because you always tried so hard to please, and because you 
took such good care of him when we were growing up.  He loved you, truly 
loved you."
	"Oh!"  Zazu's head bowed and his tail feathers drooped.  "May the 
gods bless him!  I loved him too, but one doesn't say such things to 
one's betters.  But he's gone now, and I'm saying it."
	"That's fine.  Now about us."  Taka licked his paw and used it to 
groom his dark mane.  "I see no reason why the we should be at odds all 
the time.  Frankly, I'm in no great rush to call Bezraak.  It would be a 
slap in the face of my dear brother.  I've lost enough today--I don't 
want to lose you too."
	"That's very kind of you to say, but...."
	"But?"
	"Well, I feel a little uncomfortable, Scar.  I mean, Sire."
	"In what way?"
	"I'm sure it's just me.  But you know, I know Pa'haal of the 
Wildebeests, and I'd like to have a word with him.  Just to settle my 
mind.  You understand, don't you Sire?"
	"Oh, I understand perfectly."  He gently patted Zazu on the head, 
who cringed but tried to smile.  "Why don't you come outside.  I'll call 
together the lionesses, and we'll have a frank discussion, no holds 
barred.  I'll send Uzuri to find Pa'haal.  And even though I can't stand 
him, I know Rafiki is no liar.  We'll have him do whatever that thing is 
he does at times like these to see if every word I said is not the AB-
solute truth."
	"Oh, I didn't call you a liar, Your Majesty."
	"I didn't say you did, now did I?  But if I didn't lie, I 
shouldn't be afraid to be put to the test, now should I?  And I promise 
you that no one leaves till everyone is completely satisfied.  Will that 
help?"
	"Yes, Sire."  He preened self-consciously.  "I must say you're 
being awfully big about this.  Anyhow, I thought you'd want me to be 
forthright about my feelings.  You know, clean slate and all?"
	"Clean slate.  I like that."
	"Then you're not angry?"
	Taka half laughed.  "Well, not angry."  He looked at his claws and 
groomed his mane again.  "Maybe a little disappointed.  Since we're 
being so open and forthright with each other, I know I'm moody and a 
little tempermental, but I do have my good points.  No one ever takes 
note of those, however."  The lion examined him with his best gazelle 
eyes, waiting for Zazu to melt down and call the whole idea a lot of 
rot.  Zazu did look away with some shame, but he made no move to cancel 
the inquest.
	Behind Taka's calm face, he made a firm resolve to do what he must 
do to survive.  Besides, he was sick of being nice to Zazu.
	The two rose and headed back toward the lionesses, who were still 
assembled at the foot of Pride Rock, deep in their grief.  Clearing his 
throat, Taka called their attention.
	"We have a small problem to address.  Our friend Zazu was supposed 
to protect Simba, you know.  I mean, it WAS his job, or I would have 
been looking over the boy myself.  But we TRUSTED him!"  
	Zazu shifted nervously.
	Taka brought his forearm over his eyes and cried, "What a mistake!  
What a foolish mistake!  It seems one of the lionesses, and I won't 
reveal which one, found him ASLEEP ON THE JOB!"
	Zazu recoiled.  "W-What??"
	"Let's get to the bottom of this serious charge, Zazu.  Where were 
you when my brother and nephew were being trampled, eh?  Sleeping 
again?!!"
	"Sire!  I would never presume to sleep on duty!  Besides, I WAS 
there; you saw me!"
	"Rubbish!  I did NOT see you because you were NOT there!  Are you 
going to add lying to the other charge?"  He looked around.  "Is there 
ONE of you that can vouch that he was on the job?  Did ONE of you see 
him?  Come on, I'm giving you a chance to speak out freely!"  He looked 
around for effect.  "If just ONE will say they saw him with Simba, I'll 
give Zazu the benefit of the doubt."  He examined the faces one by one.  
"Will no one speak in his defense?"
	"You know I was there!" Zazu said, scandalized.  "Tell them, Sire!  
Tell them!"
	"I will NOT lie for you, you pathetic ball of fluff!  Only your 
past record keeps me from killing you here and now!"
	Zazu began to shake as all attention focused on him.  "But I-"
	The lionesses glared at Zazu.  "How COULD you!" Sarabi said in a 
tear-choked voice.  "That's not like you, Zazu!  You knew he was never 
to go there!  I thought you loved him!  Why, Zazu??  Why??"
	Taka bared his teeth.  "Listen to the anguish of a wife and 
mother!  Had you been watching Simba as you were supposed to, he 
wouldn't have wandered into the gorge, would he?"
	"Y-Yes, but-"
	"And my brother wouldn't have had to go after him, would he?"
	"N-No, but-"
	Taka leaned close.  "And IF you had done your job, they wouldn't 
be DEAD, would they??!!"
	"S-Sire, please...."  He whispered just low enough for Taka to 
hear: "I didn't think you hated me that much!"
	"You have no idea."  Taka stared at him with eyes like red coals.  
"So you wish I were a rug so when I got dirty, he could take me out and 
beat me??"
	"Spare me!" Zazu shrieked.  "Just let me go!  Let me go and I'll 
never trouble you again, I swear!"
	"Shut up," Taka said, his voice dripping with contempt.  "In view 
of your past service and the love which my brother held for you, I will 
not have you killed."
	Zazu sighed, trembling, but jerked in alarm as a pair of hyenas 
took up station on either side of him.
	"Instead, you will be confined for the rest of your life, where I 
can keep an eye on you as you reflect on your guilt and hopefully find 
forgiveness and mercy in Aiheu.  For you shall NEVER find forgiveness 
nor mercy in me, not in this lifetime or a hundred lifetimes!"  Taka 
leaned forward until his nose touched the hornbill's beak, his voice 
dropping to a murmur that only Zazu could hear.  "And should you start 
any more trouble, I'll pluck out your feathers one by one and shove you 
in the waterhole to drown.  Understand?"
	Too terrified to speak, Zazu nodded rapidly.



CHAPTER 38:  ALONE

	Simba stirred in the cool morning air, feeling with a paw for his 
mother's comforting presence.  He opened an eye and glanced around.  The 
awful truth dawned upon him that for the first time in his life, he was 
completely alone.  As far as he could see all around was featureless 
sand.
	He rose, stretching, and groomed himself in the pre-dawn quiet, 
the slight rasp of his tongue the only sound in the stillness.  Holding 
forth with an enormous yawn, he began padding slowly across the dunes, 
his tiny paws leaving a pockmarked trail in the pristine sand as he 
walked slowly but steadily, face turned towards the darkened western 
sky, the gentle breezes of twilight ruffling his fur and tickling his 
whiskers with cool fingers.
	But the cool did not last long.  His shadow sprang into abrupt 
relief in front of him, harsh and outlined in red.  He glanced over his 
shoulder to see the sun heaving its crimson bulk above the horizon.  The 
temperature began to climb steadily as it rose higher in the sky, the 
cold dry winds becoming hot dry winds, the rays of the sun beginning to 
pierce him with anger and spite.
	On the second day of Simba's journey, he fought new enemies.  
Tiredness, hunger, thirst, hoplessness.  The one thought that kept him 
going was his faith that friends lay to the west.
	Panting in the dry air drained moisture from him.  A sweat that 
did not cool him matted his fur and burned his eyes.  He longed to feel 
firm earth beneath his feet again.  The soft give of the sand made 
walking more difficult.  His small feet scrabbled for purchase on even 
the smallest of dunes, and he had to struggle up one side, then slip 
down the other.  He had daydreams about soft fragrant grass wet with 
morning dew, and stopping by the cistern to drink the cold, fresh water 
that collected from the rain.
	His gait became unsteady.  He stumbled along, unsure why there 
should be anything better to the west than there was to the south or 
north.  He couldn't go east--that he could NEVER do.  The east was where 
his heart lay.  The most desirable and inaccessable of things.  His 
mother's soft fur, and Aunt Uzuri's quiet voice that said so much in so 
little.  Perhaps someone was eating fresh meat.  His stomach began to 
knot up and growl.  Overhead the sun stared with its one hateful eye, 
willing the life from him step by step.  Each breath sucked precious 
moisture from his small body.  In the sky, vultures circled slowly, 
meeting his gaze with undisguised eagerness as he fought to remain 
standing.  He stared at one, and watched its image separate into two, 
then slowly recombine as he fought to keep his fragile grasp on 
consciousness.  The image separated again.  He felt his legs collapse 
and the shock hitting the ground.  "Aiheu," he moaned, the sand rasping 
dryly against his cheek in a deadly caress.  "Help me, Aiheu.  I think 
I'm dying."
	He put his paw across his face and surrendered.  Everything went 
dark....


CHAPTER 39:  FRIENDS IN NEED

		"Better is a neighbor who is nearby than kindred 
		who are far away."

                                 -- PROVERBS 27, 10

	"Pumbaa, come ON," Timon groaned.  "The ground's as dry as a bone, 
now; we're not gonna find any more bugs out here."
	"I don't know..." Pubaa's voice was filled with doubt.  "We found 
that beetle a little while ago, remember?"
	"`A little while ago?!'  That was two hours ago!  I'm fried!"  
Timon continued to gripe as the foraged listlessly among the cracked and 
dried flats.  A brief rain had sprung up this morning, the dry ground 
greedily soaking up the moisture and driving the insects out in droves.  
The meerkat and warthog had delighted in this banquet, at least until 
the sun emerged again.  The insects had vanished with the water, the 
ground drying into the haphazard mosaic that lay before them, baked hard 
now in the glaring sun.
	Sighing, Timon leaned down to try again when faint movement caught 
his eyes.  He skittered up Pumbaa's back to perch atop his head, shading 
his eyes in the glare.
	"H-Hey!" Pumbaa, laughed.  "That tickles!"
	"Hush!"  Timon squinted.  "A-HA!  Buzzards!"
	Pumbaa grimaced.  "Ewww!  I hate buzzards."
	"Pumbaa!"  Timon tapped his friend's head reproachfully.  "We do 
not speak ill of those who might show us where to find some goodies."
	"Huh?"
	"They might be giving us a pointer on where we might locate a 
leftover culinary delight!"  Timon's stomach growled in anticipation.
	"Awwww!"  Pumbaa looked downcast.  "I was hoping they might show 
us where to find some food."
	The meerkat sighed.  "Just head thataway."
	Pumbaa trotted off obligingly, heading towards the circling birds, 
who were beginning to descend, a sure sign that whatever they had been 
stalking was about to expire.  Fresh meat!  Timon shook the rough mane 
on Pumbaa's shoulders with glee.  "Oh boy oh boy!  We're gonna eat right 
today, pal, just you wait!"
	Pumbaa halted suddenly, nearly sending Timon overboard.  "Why do I 
have to wait?!  Who says YOU eat first?!"
	"No, no!  Just forget it and head for the buzzards before they get 
the good stuff!"  Timon seized Pumbaa's ears and flicked them, kicking 
his heels into the warthog's neck.  "YAHHHH!!!"
	Pumbaa accelerated, a horrendous war cry of his own issuing from 
his mouth as the two charged into the pack of jostling birds, sending 
them scattering in disarray, feathers flying as they squawked an 
indignant protest back at the two.  Ignoring this, the duo checked 
around themselves for any malingerers, then relaxed, Timon chuckling at 
the sight.
	"I love it!"  Pumbaa snorted in mirth.  "Bowling for buzzards!"
	Timon guffawed.  "Gets `em every time!"  He proceeded to brush 
himself off as Pumbaa examined the carcass that lay at their feet.  "Uh-
oh.  Hey Timon!  You better come look.  I think it's still alive."
	The meerkat drew up involuntarily.  "Yeesh!"  Steeling himself, he 
meandered over, trying to look nonchalant.  After all, Pumbaa WAS 
watching.
	"Allrighty, whatta we got here?"  Bending low, he sniffed the air 
carefully.  The scent filled his nostrils; something exotic, but vaguely 
familiar.  But alive, he could tell that much.  Shrugging, he wriggled 
under the paw that covered the creature's face and strained, lifting...
	...and saw the soft furry features, the whiskers, and the tip of 
one ivory fang protruding over the lower lip.  His blood ran cold as he 
dropped the paw, staggering back in terror.
	"Jeez, it's a LION!"


CHAPTER 40:  GAZELLE EYES

	"I knew it.  I just knew it!" Timon said with disgust.  "I knew if 
we carried him to water, you'd want to feed him.  And if you fed him, 
you'd want to keep him.  Do you know what lion cubs do?  Huh, DO you??"
	Pumbaa looked at Timon with mist in his gazelle eyes.  "No, Timon.  
What do they do?"
	"They get bigger.  It doesn't happen all at once, see, but one day 
you'll wake up...."  He straddled and expanded to make his point.  
"....and there will be this greaaat biiiig lion as far as the eyes can 
see!  He won't be little and cute then, but he'll still be our problem."
	"Keep it down, Timon.  He'll hear you!"
	Timon glanced around anxiously.  "Yeah.  And I bet he's hungry, 
too!"
	"Now there you go again!  He's only a little kid, and he's so sad 
and lost and helpless!"  Tears began to spring up in Pumbaa's eyes.  
"Just because you're smarter than I am doesn't mean you're always right.  
I mean, not always, you know."
	"And I suppose you got it all figured out?"
	"No.  But while we're wasting time figuring it all out, that 
little guy needs our help!"
	Once in a while Pumbaa said something that made Timon stand up and 
take note.  "All right.  Answer me this, then.  Let's say we keep him.  
Down, Pumbaa, I said IF we keep him, what will he eat?"
	Tears misted up in Pumbaa's eyes again.  "If we DON'T keep him, 
what will he eat?"  A tear ran down the warthog's cheek.  "I gotta live 
with myself, Timon.  Don't make me choose between you and him.  
Please??"
	"You can't walk out on me!"
	"I can't walk out on him!"
	Adopting a lion cub was a big decision, and it took Pumbaa a lot 
of discussion and a great deal of pouting to overcome Timon's 
reluctance.  What Aiheu did not give the warthog in eloquent speech, he 
made up for in sheer determination.  And when Pumbaa really made up his 
mind and looked at Timon with his gazelle eyes, he usually got his way.
	All in all, the benefits outweighed the disadvantages, Pumbaa 
figured; they would have to raise a youngster (a task Timon especially 
loathed), but the return on their investment would be enormous.  Simba 
would make a terrific bodyguard and a good friend.  Besides, Timon would 
not have to endure Pumbaa's pleading looks.
	"OK," Timon said at last.  "I'm going to regret this, but we'll 
keep the kid."
	"Hooray!!"
	The advantages of such a relationship were obvious, and the two 
readily fell to in making the cub feel right at home.
	Simba, however, had no such preconceptions.  He embraced the 
carefree lifestyle of "Hakuna Matata" the two preached of, somewhat 
reluctant at first, but more and more easily as the day wore on.  It was 
difficult to overcome the inhibitions his parents had instilled in him; 
he found it hard to accept the fact that he was pretty much free to do 
what he pleased, eat what he pleased...even the simplest of niceties 
were not required.  The first time he belched and covered his mouth with 
a paw, saying "Excuse me!" with a horrified expression on his face, 
Timon had gone into gales of laughter.
	The cub reflected on this as he lay on his back, paws outstreched, 
rubbing one ear lazily as he blinked in the late afternoon sun.  He 
tracked its progress, half intrested, thinking it was funny how much the 
sun looked just as it did when he had been at home.
	Home.
	He rubbed the fur on his belly uncomfortably, remembering sitting 
next to Sarabi, her warm tongue bathing him as he lay beside her, sated 
from his last meal, watching the same sun go down in the Pride Lands.  
He watched as the fiery orb doubled, then trebled in his vision as quiet 
tears ran down his cheeks.  His heart sank along with the sun, his 
spirits falling and turning dark with the sky around him.  The stars 
made their appearances one by one, standing stalwart against the night, 
but no such light remained in Simba's soul.  Sniffing quietly, he tilted 
his head back to look at the depthless expanse of the universe above.
	"God?  I don't know if you feel like listening to me...but I 
wanted to ask a favor."  His jaw trembled, and his face drew down in 
deep lines as he struggled to keep control.  "Would you please watch out 
for my pride?  I mean, Uncle Scar isn't that strong and he has that bad 
back...he needs help.  And help Aunt Uzuri catch a lot of food so Nala 
doesn't get hungry or anything."  Despite his struggles, he began to cry 
again, his voice wavering unsteadily as he rushed to finish.  "And watch 
out for Mom, okay?  And if you can...please tell her...I'm sorry!  I 
didn't mean it!"  His head fell forward and he buried it under his 
forepaws, shaking with the terrible force of his grief.
	A sharp trill sang from the grass next to him, and he jumped, 
crying out as he backed away.  A second trill answered, and son the 
grass was full of the droning sound of crickets, humming away busily as 
they sang their strange calls to one another.  Fire blossomed in the 
grass as a small white glow emerged, flitting about aimlessly.  Simba 
twirled in agitation as he was suddenly surrounded by dozens of tiny 
points of light, miniature suns that gleamed with a cold brilliance.  
The fireflies darted about his head, one alighting on his nose and 
jittering frenziedly as it signaled its fellows.  The cub yelped in 
fear, jumping up and running across the clearing to the cover of the 
nearby bushes where Timon and Pumbaa were making themselves comfortable 
for the night's slumber.
	Pumbaa saw him scamper in, shaking furiously.  "What's the matter, 
Simba?"
	"I'm scared!"  he burst out.  "I wanna go home!"
	"Aww, man..." Timon groaned.
	Pumbaa shushed him sternly, then turned back to the terrified cub.  
"C'mon, little fella.  Just lie down and get some sleep.  You'll feel 
better in the morning."
	"I CAN'T sleep!  Those THINGS'll get me!"  Simba ran over to 
Pumbaa and huddled against his comforting bulk, shivering as he stared 
at the dark jungle around them, seeing movement in every shadow.
	"Poor kid."  Pumbaa grunted unhappily.  "Scared of the dark?"
	Simba nodded.
	"Huh!  Me too!  But ya know what?"
	"What?"
	"My mom used to tell me stories to help me get to sleep, and I 
remember `em all!  Wanna hear one?"
	Simba nodded, wide eyed, and settled in close, much to Pumbaa's 
surprise.  "Would you tell me one?  Please?"
	"Sure.  Let me see..."  Pumbaa grimaced, thinking hard, then 
smiled.  "Oh yeah!  This one was my favorite.
	"Once there was a great leader among the elephants.  His name was 
Mongo Earthshaker because he was so big that when he walked you could 
feel the ground shake.  Well one day Mongo was so thirsty that he ran 
down to the watering hole, even though he had hurt his leg only three 
days before.  His mate Zesta warned him that he was headed for trouble 
because of his leg, but he hurried anyway.  Well, the water was so cool 
and refreshing that when he drank it he didn't feel thirsty anymore.  
Then he went back to his friends."
	"Then what happened?"
	"How should I know?  That's the end of the story.  But there is 
another one about him that tells about the time he took a mud bath.  
You'll never guess how it ends!"
	"He cooled off, didn't he?"
	"Darn!  You've heard it already."  Pumbaa looked alarmingly at 
Simba's dour expression and put a foreleg around the cub.  "Look here, 
little guy.  You lay next to me.  If you're afraid, don't be.  I'll take 
care of you."
	Simba looked at him a moment longer, then lay his head down, 
pressing his nose into Pumbaa's side, trying to blot out as much of the 
world as he could.  The gentle tides of Pumbaa's breathing and the 
steady thrum of his heart lulled the exhausted cub, pulling him into a 
much needed sleep.
	Pumbaa sat quiet until he was sure Simba had dropped off, then lay 
his own head down.  Eyes drooping, he began to slide away into sleep's 
embrace until a sudden motion from the cub brought him back to sharp 
wakefulness.  Glancing down, he saw Simba's paws twitching restlessly, 
soft moans escaping his lips and chilling the warthog with their 
intensity.
	"Uncle Scar?  I'm sorry...din't mean it."  He shuffled restlessly 
again.  "Accident...what'm I gonna do?  Mom?"  Pumbaa grunted with pain 
as the cub kicked abruptly, crying out in the dark stillness.  "Dad!  
No!"
	Pumbaa nuzzled him helplessly, uncertain of what to do, and was 
relieved to see Simba quiet down at the touch, forepaws reaching out in 
his sleep and making contact with the warthog's side, claws kneading him 
slightly in a long forgotten reflex.  Pumbaa endured the discomfort, 
gazing at the cub thoughfully as the night passed, until Simba dropped 
off into a deep, dreamless sleep.



CHAPTER 41:  ATTENDANCE IS REQUIRED

              "Where there is no vision, the people perish."

                           -- Old Testament (I'll have to look it up)


	Meanwhile Fabana, Shenzi and Banzai moved among the hyenas.  They 
spread the word to all: "Important Clan meeting at high moon.  
Attendance is required."
	Amarakh was having a playful wrestling bout with her husband when 
Ber came by.  "Roh'makh, do you have a moment?"
	She looked up, peeved.  "Can't I have a life of my own?"
	"I'm sorry, My Lady.  I'll ask you tonight at the clan meeting."
	"I didn't call a clan meeting."
	"Well everyone else says you did.  And that it's very important."
	"Who told you?"
	"Fabana."
	Amarakh sighed, kissed her husband, and said, "I'll be back in a 
minute.  Remember where we were."
	The Roh'mach went around looking for Fabana.  She expected to 
trace down the source of the rumor and find out who dared to mock her.  
She was in for a great surprise when she finally found Fabana.
	"Fay, what's this about a clan meeting?  Who told you?"
	Fabana straightened with pride.  "Roh'kash herself."
	"What??"  Amarakh's hackles raised.  "Let me scratch my ears.  I 
must have wax in them."
	"No, My Lady.  Tonight at high moon, The Lord herself is going to 
address us on a matter of great importance."
	"If you say so," Amarakh said dubiously.  "Let's just say I hope 
She shows up for your sake.  Otherwise, I'm going to be pretty put out 
with you, hon."  She softened her tone.  "I know it's been hard on you 
raising that family of yours alone.  Especially the way Jal died.  I'll 
think of something important to say.  Maybe I'll just make something up.  
I don't want you being made a fool of.  We'll discuss this later, OK?"
	"I'm not seeing things.  There are witnesses.  Shenzi, Banzai and 
Ed all saw her."
	"Look, Fay.  We've been friends all our lives.  But this is 
ridiculous.  You go around promising God to these folks, all I can say 
is you had better deliver!"
	There was a large pointed crag in the elephant graveyard called 
Makh'pil Baru, or "Moon Claw," for at exactly high moon the shadow of 
its point would touch a boulder named Ul Khalil, or "The Springhare."  
In living memory it had always been the signal to start a clan meeting.
	Also by long custom, the Roh'mach did not discuss business before 
mid moon.  Everyone usually had some idea what was going to be covered 
in advance, and this time as always there were rumors being spread 
through the crowd.  Amarakh politely turned away questions, but she was 
clearly uncomfortable.
	"It's not too late," she whispered to Fabana.  "Please don't go 
through with this.  I'm trying to help you.  You know I'm your friend."
	"I know."
	"I hope you know what you're doing."
	"Just wait.  You'll see."
	The dance of the heavenly bodies was progressing.  The point of 
the shadow drew close to Ul Khalil.  By then, everyone was in a state of 
great anticipation.
	Amarakh was silent, her mind working quickly to think of something 
to say.  Shenzi was looking rather smug, certain that what happened 
would be the crowning glory of her short life.  Banzai was proud of his 
sister and sat erect, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and 
looking gravely serious, trying not to grin broadly.  Ed, as always, was 
Ed.
	The point of the shadow crept to the edge of the rock.  As 
everyone watched with bated breath, the black triangle crept across the 
stone and finally reached the exact center.
	The quiet was unearthly.  No one spoke or even dared to move.
	Then the shadow passed the center of the stone and approached the 
far side.
	"Thank you for coming," Amarakh said.  "My main reason in calling 
you here was to sort out a crime that had been committed against one of 
our prominent families.  But since the guilty party has confessed and 
agreed to make reparations, I think it wise not to dredge it up again."
	"Who, Roh'mach?" someone asked.
	"I prefer not to say."
	"Was that it?" another one asked.
	"Pretty much.  The wildebeest herd is on the move again, but most 
of you know that by now.  I'm sorry the hunt had to be spoiled by this 
little fiasco."
	"When is God coming?" one of the females asked.
	"Yes, when is she coming, Amarakh?" Korg asked.
	"We were told God was coming!" Ber said.  "So where is she??"
	"Who said God was coming??"
	A clamor arose.  Clearly, there were a lot of disappointed hyenas 
who were not sure who to be upset with, but Amarakh was as good a target 
as any.
	"Calm down everyone," the Roh'mach said.  "We'll all see Roh'kash 
at the moment of our death.  Think, all of you!  Think!  Why would God 
want to call a clan meeting with us?  It makes no sense!"
	Amarakh was suddenly aware of her shadow grow long and prominent 
before her, a great golden light filling the air around her with 
luminance and bathing the hyenas before her as they fell to the ground, 
ears flattened back and heads between paws.  Amarakh trembled.  She 
swallowed hard and turned around....
	"Roh'kash!!"  The Roh'mach fell to the ground and howled in fear.  
"Mercy!  Mercy, Lord!"
	Melmokh came to her in the form of a beautiful hyena.  "You 
question my decision, Amarakh?" said a sweet voice.  "I will not harm 
you.  Still, you are no longer Roh'mach."
	"Why, my Lord?  Have I not always worshipped you faithfully?"
	"Not for your impiety, for there is no quarrel between us.  I have 
given that title to the daughter of the prophesy.  Shenzi was annointed 
from birth to deliver your people from bondage, and her path shall you 
follow."
	Amarakh rolled over and pawed at the false Roh'kash.  "Even so, my 
Lord.  Even so!  I hail Shenzi, the Lord's annointed!"
	The other hyenas cried, "Hail Shenzi, the Lord's annointed!"
	Melmokh went through the crowd.  At first they parted before him, 
but after he touched lame Pashond and healed him, the other hyenas began 
to crowd in on their Roh'kash, seeking blessings and the occasional 
coveted kiss.
	"Hear my words," the false Roh'kash cried.  "I have come to 
liberate you through my servant Shenzi.  But if you are to be worthy of 
her and of me, you must be disciplined.  You must be sober in judgement.  
You must be willing to make sacrifices."
	"Even so!" hyenas shouted.  "Even so!"


CHAPTER 42A:  THE PLEDGE

	After the presentation, Melmokh saw his opportunity to move in and 
establish himself as he never could with Gur'mekh.
	As Roh'kash, he took Shenzi apart from the crowd to be alone with 
him.  The two of them went along to a cave far from the others.
	"You are my anointed, and I have brought you here to confirm our 
relationship and bond us together forever."
	Shenzi bowed before Roh'kash.  "Even so, Great Mother."
	Melmokh laughed prettily.  "You do not need to bow before me.  I 
do not want your service but your companionship.  Do you not know that I 
have sought you out to rule beside me?"
	"To rule beside you?"
	"Yes.  As my mate."  The false Roh'kash rubbed her down her full 
length.  The sexual meaning was not lost on Shenzi, and she froze in 
terror.  
	"You quake, my little one.  Do you not know that I am both 
Roh'kash and Roh'khim?  The Great Mother and the Great Father?  They are 
different aspects of the same God.  Behold the one who courts your 
affections!"
	Melmokh revealed himself to her, though his evil heart was 
disguised with the beauty of golden light that wrapped him like a 
mantle.  "Is this more to your liking?"
	"Oh!"
	He was musky and handsome, and the gleam in his eyes was hypnotic.  
She stared at him spellbound.  He began to nuzzle her lightly around her 
face, kissing her passionately beside the eyes and under the corners of 
her twitching mouth.  "You fill me with every wholesome desire," he 
purred.  "Our love could last the centuries.  I can please you the way 
you were born to be pleased, and you will please me too."  He began to 
nuzzle her neck and her trembling shoulders.  "I'm on fire, child.  Give 
yourself to me freely, not because I command it, but because you want 
it.  Only if you call me of your own free will, for I will not force 
myself upon you."
	She did not answer him, but she stood her ground when he rubbed 
her along her length, and from her throat escaped a low whimper as her 
jaw trembled.  She gave herself willingly, and in doing so became truly 
his.  As the death of Demrath bound Gur'mekh to him, so her intimacy 
bound her to him.  But he had no desire to torment her.  Far from it.
	There in the darkness, Melmokh made love with her.  And there in 
the darkness he forged a bond with her that would make her his.  For it 
was his wish that she would one day concieve a child who would become 
the physical presence of Melmokh, a body through which he could fully 
enter the world of Ma'at and have his way unobstructed by time and 
space.
	Of course, he neglected to tell her that.


CHAPTER 43:  OMLAKH

	Melmokh banned private prayer, asking instead for the hyenas to 
come directly into the presence of their God and speak their mind.  He 
appeared on Ul Khalil rock each night at high moon in the form of a 
beautiful female hyena, speaking softly and with an outward kindness 
that hid the blasphemous, dark purpose of his plans.
	Though many were convinced that God was among them, others were 
not so easily swayed.  Ber and a lot of the intellectuals saw something 
strange with the new doctrines of the false Roh'kash.  They relied on 
their faith instead of what their eyes told them, and in this regard 
they could peer through chinks in the armor of Melmokh.
	This small group held a secret prayer vigil each night while the 
others were paying homage to the demon.  Once when Ber was lying on his 
back in the depths of prayer, he called upon Roh'kash in tones that 
melted the hearts of those who heard him as perspiration broke on him 
and his fur matted.
	"Almighty mother whose gentleness is like the sunrise, your broken 
remnant looks to you for deliverance.  Is there no word for us?  Is 
there no truth that we must be subject to the lies of traitors and 
blasphemers?  My life for a word.  My life for one word of truth to 
leave behind with these poor souls that love you!"
	There was a smell of jasmine, and a soft golden light.  To Ber's 
surprise, the lithe, graceful form of a beautiful white lioness emerged.  
A deep purr emenated from her as she regarded him benevolently, her tail 
stirring restlessly as she spoke.  
	"Ber, my child, do not listen to the lies of the demon Melmokh who 
claims to be God.  The true God has heard your prayers.  There will be 
night before the dawn, but even in the night there are stars that shine.  
Be brave, my child."
	The lioness quickly kissed Ber on the cheek, then dematerialized 
as quickly as she came.
	Ber got up, rubbed his cheek with a paw, than said, "Quick, hide!  
We are not safe here!"
	The dissenters hurried away to the caves, and none too soon, for a 
fierce female hyena came hurtling in.  She nosed about quickly, trying 
to smell the tracks and identify who was there, but the only scent to be 
had was that of jasmine.  "Damn you, Minshasa!  Stay out of here!  This 
is MY land!  I was invited here!  This is MINE and you can't have it 
back!"
	For a brief moment, the false Roh'kash rippled and changed, 
becoming a furious, seething male.  Looking around with eyes shining red 
as coals, Melmokh peered into the surrounding grass and rocks looking 
for those who dared discover his secret.  But the lioness had sent a 
brisk wind that swept the tracks away without a trace.  "Come back, and 
I'll kill you!" he said in a voice that tore at the air, making the very 
stones in the earth tremble and vibrate with its gutteral fury.  "One on 
one, you meddlesome witch!  See if you're so strong when it's just you 
and me!!"
	Ber and his intellectuals and the gentle-minded formed a sort of 
clan within a clan, which got the informal name of The Omlakhs, "the 
different ones."  They prayed to Roh'kash and to the white lioness in a 
different place each night, sang the ancient hymns and worked to keep 
the spirit of their faith alive in the descending spiritual darkness.
	The temptation to follow a visible god who worked miracles was too 
strong for most of them.  They believed whatever the false Roh'kash told 
them, losing the purity of their faith to the new doctrines of Melmokh, 
doctrines that sentenced his enemies to a horrible death.  Ber and his 
group continued to worship as their heart told them, holding to the 
ideals of fairness and freedom that underpinned the old faith and gave 
it true meaning.  Eventually brothers in the same family split over this 
issue.  The Omlakhs kept strict secrecy, terrified of what would happen 
if someone betrayed them.
	While not a terrorist organization, under the leadership of Ber, 
the Omlakhs did try in subtle ways to subvert the will of the Makei.  
And for this they ended up becoming persecuted.
	Finally one of their number was found out.  A female named 
Belvalen was trapped and condemned by the false Roh'kash to be tortured 
to death.  For it was Melmokh's wish to snare other Omlkahs.  
	Melmokh made it a test of loyalty that each member of the clan 
bite her hard enough to draw blood and make her scream.  Some of the 
hyenas were loyal to the false Roh'kash, but they felt cold shudders to 
pierce the hide of the young female.  Melmokh, sensing this, kissed each 
of the hyenas that bit her.
	Den'beer was coming up in the line.  He shuddered, knowing that he 
could not hurt her.  Of course he knew that he would be given away, and 
not only die but be used to trap other Omlkahs who would have to torture 
HIM.  He thought of a desperate plan in that moment.  He knew that the 
only hope for his people was something that Melmokh did not understand--
an act of profound love.
	Belvalen was crouched in the niche where she had been held 
prisoner, the forbidding rock walls preventing her escape.  She cringed 
as a blast of steam belched from the thermal vent beside her, bathing 
her in its gusty breath and making her break out in a sweat which was 
not entirely due to the heat.  She shook with the pain of the wounds 
that had been inflicted on her body, her blood running down her sides in 
fine streams to pool near the lip of the cauldron next to her, bubbling 
and hissing as it emitted a hot coppery odor.  Her limbs trembled from 
fear and the loss of blood, and she prayed that the pain would end soon.
	Her heart sank as the next hyena in line stepped forward.  Skulk 
came up and without hesitation inflicted a severe bite to her flank that 
made her shriek with agony.  Her cry of pain shook Den'beer to the core.  
"Enough!" he thought.  "It ends here!"
	Now all eyes were on Den'beer.  Mortally wounded but still 
terrified, Belvalen looked at him pleadingly.  He smiled sweetly at her.  
"I love you, Belvalen!  Let us greet the true God together!"  
	Relief flooded her face, and she smiled back.  "Yes!  Come to me!"
	Before anyone could stop him, he ran to her, ramming into her and 
bearing her with him into the thermal vent, disappearing into the depths 
without a sound.
	In that brief moment, Shimbekh, who could not bear to look at the 
vent, turned away, her gaze coming to rest on the face of the one she 
worshipped.  Her blood froze as she saw the face of Roh'kash horribly 
distorted in rage, the features actually running as though seen through 
a haze of rain, the warm amber eyes turned to crimson points of fire 
that blazed with wrath.  Seconds later, the Mother of All's face 
returned to normal, and she bowed her head in sadness.  "Such is the 
fate of all those who would not tread the path of righteousness," she 
intoned sadly.  "Let us pray for their souls."
	Shimbekh trembled as she bowed her head along with the others. How 
could the true God possess any evil qualities??  She had heard some 
disturbing rumors flitting about the clan, and some of the feelings she 
picked up from the hyenas around her did nothing to ease her disquiet.  
She resolved to speak with Ber at mid moon and find out just what was 
going on in her troubled family.  Putting the thought aside, she turned 
inwards as the droning monotone of the prayer continued around her.  
Unbidden, the image of Roh'kash sprang to mind again, her normally 
beatific features now grossly twisted in a mask of hate.
	She suddenly found that the soul she was praying for was her own.



CHAPTER 44:  COUP DE GRACE

	Simba pranced delightedly about the muddy path, splashing the 
water with his big paws and laughing at the pretty rainbows they made in 
the air, the droplets catching the light in an explosion of color before 
they fell back to earth.
	Abruptly, another burst of color emerged before him.  The cub's 
face was mesmerized by the fluttering wings of the butterflies which 
leapt up from the jungle floor, swirling around him in a living carousel 
of glittering beauty.  Entranced, he watched them flit abouot aimlessly, 
giggling at the sight of the tiny creatures.  Playfully, he batted at 
one.
	His paw flicked out with deadly accuracy, striking the insect and 
cuffing it to the earth in a crushing blow.  Chagrined, Simba looked 
down worriedly as the insect struggled to move, but its wings were 
broken and it was now missing a couple of legs.  Concerned, Simba got 
Pumbaa to look at it.  
	"What should I do?"  
	"Don't eat it, kid.  They're bitter."  
	"I don't mean that.  I mean-it's going to die.  I broke its wings.  
Is there something I can do to fix it?  Can YOU fix it?"
	Pumbaa stepped forward, crushing it with his hoof.  "That's all I 
can do.  It would have suffered."
	Simba looked horrified.  "Pumbaa," he asked, very disturbed, "when 
you hurt something--by accident for instance--does God punish you if 
you're really, really sorry?"
	"I guess it depends on how bad you hurt them, and how sorry you 
really are."
	"What if you hurt them really bad?  You know, like maybe they died 
or something?  But it was an accident and you were really sorry?"
	Pumbaa looked at him suspiciously.  "Hey, little guy, this friend 
that did the hurting-did you know him well?"
	Simba's whiskers trembled slightly.  "Uh, no.  I was just 
wondering."
	"Well that's good.  But the way I see it, this person you don't 
know should apologize for what it is they did.  And if that person was a 
lot like you-you know, nice and kind and thoughtful-I think God would 
not hold it against them."
	"Yeah."  He nuzzled Pumbaa, then goaded the warthog into a 
wrestling match.
	As the day wore on, however, Simba found many moments to reflect 
on the conversation.  Deeply troubled, he padded quietly away from Timon 
and Pumbaa that evening as the stars began to emerge into the sky.  He 
made his way quietly to his favorite spot; atop a rotted tree stump near 
a muddy washout.
	The cub padded slowly through the dead undergrowth, broken stalks 
and twigs showing clearly that he had passed this way before many times.  
He leapt lightly to the top of the stump and craned his head up to look 
at the reason he came here so often.  A small break in the triple canopy 
foliage overhead offered an unobstructed view of a swath of stars that 
he had come to know well.
	Pumbaa eased through the buses to the opening the cub had made and 
peered through, wondering why Simba wandered off to this desolate 
clearing.  As he caught sight of the cub, he drew back, embarrassed; 
Simba's face was stricken as he searched the heavens above.
	"I'm sorry!  I'm sorry!"  He opened his mouth again, but all that 
emerged was a choked sob.
	Timon clambered up Pumbaa's back to perch atop his head.  "Well?  
What's he doing-"  His jaw shut with a snap as he saw Simba hunched on 
the stump, head buried under his forepaws and bawling hoarsely.  "Aw, 
jeez..."  He slid down Pumbaa's snout, preparing to run over to the cub, 
when Pumbaa flicked his head, sending the meerkat sailing back behind to 
land on his broad back.  "Whattya doin'?"
	"No.  Let the little guy alone." Tears ran down Pumbaa's cheeks.  
"He's a little guy with a big problem."




CHAPTER 45:  OIL AND WATER

	Uzuri sighed as she looked across the rocks at her hunting party.  
"Oh, gods," she thought.  "This is never going to work."
	Assembled in front of her were her huntresses: Sarabi, Isha, 
Yolanda, Ajenti, Tameka, and Beesa.  Uzuri had intended for Sarafina to 
join them, but the lioness had uncharacteristically begged off, asking 
to remain at home with her daughter, Nala.  Uzuri had queried her 
lightly on this, but had not pressed the matter; when it came to 
hunting, none of her lionesses were slouchers, least of all Sarafina.  
She had readily consented and substituted the young Tameka in Fini's 
place.  But Uzuri would have much rather have had Sarafina's experience 
along for what lay ahead of them tonight.
	She glanced over at the other half of her hunting party.  
Supposedly chosen for their hunting prowess, the six hyenas she had been 
assigned did not do much to comfort her.  At the present moment they 
were busy arguing among themselves about a particularly nasty fight they 
had witnessed a few months back.
	Clearing her throat, she stepped forward.  "Excuse me.  If you're 
quite finished..."  At her penetrating stare, the hyenas subsided 
slowly.  "We'll be hunting in the northern meadows tonight.  Now, as you 
are unfamiliar with our hunting tactics, I wanted to go over a couple of 
things that I thought-"
	"We can't eat tactics," one of the hyenas quipped.  "I need red 
meat and lots of it.  I think could eat a whole lion!"
	The other hyenas erupted in a gale of raucous laughter.  Uzuri set 
her jaw and endured it until it subsided, then looked at the one who had 
spoken.  "I take it you are Pipkah?"
	"Yes, I'm Pipkah, but you can't take it."  Some of the other 
hyenas nearly went into fits at this jibe.  Others hid their faces and 
groaned.
	Uzuri blew out her breath in frustration and turned to Isha.  "I 
give up.  We'll just have to hope they know what they're doing."
	Isha stared hard at Pipkah as Uzuri passed by her, muttering.  The 
young lioness glanced back at Uzuri, noting the peculiar set of her 
head.  She envied the hunt mistress's powers of concentration; already 
the incident was put behind her as Uzuri began running attack patterns 
and possible hunting sites through her head.
	But for Isha, the insult was not so easily forgotten.  As the 
hyena started to pass her, she stepped in front, blocking his path.  She 
stared at him, sniffing him carefully.
	"Hey, watch the merchandice lady!"
	She smiled sweetly.  "I just wanted to remember you.  You're the 
hunting party leader.  Pap Kuuh is it, or Pip Kahh?"
	"Pip Kahh is close enough."  He smiled.  "Well, good.  I worked 
hard for this position, and I'm glad to get some recognition."
	Isha's smile widened, but her eyes remained hard as diamonds.  
"Oh, definitely.  As hunt master of the hyenas, you`re responsible for 
their actions.  If we make a good kill tonight, you'll doubtless be 
rewarded appropriately."  She moved next to them as they walked, her 
breath soft in his ear.  "And if one of your people injures one of mine, 
you will also be rewarded appropriately.  I can't eat tactics, but I 
think I could eat a whole hyena."  Without waiting for a response, she 
trotted ahead to rejoin the other lionesses.
	Pipkah watched her leave, hatred evident on his face, but a hatred 
tempered with fear.  He turned to see the other hyenas looking at him 
curiously.  "What're you guys mooning at?!  Spread out for cryin' out 
loud!"
	The breath of night whispered gently through the leaves, teasing 
the beard on Rafiki's chin as he picked the precious Alba leaves from 
their delicate stems.  One by one he placed the leaves in the bottom of 
the small wooden bowl he held in his lap, until a thin layer covered the 
bottom.  Giving a satisfied grunt, he picked up the small bone pestle 
Makedde had given him long ago and begin to grind away at the leaves in 
smooth, steady strokes.  The task was a familiar one, and he found his 
thoughts wasndering as he gazed contemplatively out across the darkened 
savanna.
	A rumbling snort cut the air, and he looked down to see one of his 
guards sprawled at the base of the tree, face composed in bliss as he 
slumbered away the boring duty of guarding one old monkey in a tree.
	Rafiki glanced around surrepetitiously to make sure he was not 
being observed.  Oh, of course, doubtless there was an outer perimiter 
of guards to keep him detained; he had seen them before.  Even if he 
managed to get down and escape into the grass, one of them would 
intercept him before he got away.  No, escape was impossible.
	But that didn't mean he couldn't have any fun.
	He quietly reached up and plucked a gourd from an overhanging 
branch of the baobab.  The branch swished sharply as it sprang back into 
place, and the guard below snorted and shifted slightly.  Rafiki froze, 
waiting until the hyena had settled himself again.  Paitently, he 
examined the stars, gazing familiarly at the constellation of The 
Blessed, naming the stars one by one to himself.  He had gotten through 
perhaps half when snores again rose from below.
	Grinning, he took careful aim, and dropped the gourd.  It fell 
through the air and glanced off the hyena's skull with a sharp THUNK.  
The guard leapt up, snorting in surprise.
	"What the-" he looked down, rubbing his abused head gingerly, 
feeling the welt rising on his skull as he saw the gourd lying on the 
ground a few feet away.  Snarling, he looked upwards at the mandrill who 
sat in the fork of the branches high above, stirring his bowl and 
staring innocently out at the stars.  "All right, I've HAD it!  That's 
the third time this week!  Don't tell me the wind knocked THAT one 
down."
	Rafiki looked at him and smiled.  "Oh, you found it!  I knew I 
must have dropped it or something!"  He cackled  as the hyena bristled 
at him.
	"That's it.  You're gonna be laughing out of the other side of 
your head when I get through with you-"
	"Shut up, fool."  The guard froze in the midst of preparing to go 
after the mandrill.  He turned his head to see Krull sitting behind him, 
eyes glinting dangerously in the moonlight as they bored into his own.  
"You're right.  That's the third time this week he's done it.  And you 
were asleep on duty all three times.  Now what should I do about that, 
hmm?"
	The guard stammered for a moment, then rolled on the ground.  "I 
beg forgiveness, Roh'khal Krull.  Bih gah'kh'resh mal!  Bih mal!"
	Krull looked at him sternly for a moment, then nodded.  
"Gah'kh'resh nih."  The guard looked up, surprised, gratitude shining in 
his eyes as Krull jerked his head over his shoulder.  "Go get Henneh to 
relieve you.  Go on, now."
	"Yes sir!"  The guard scrambled away into the grass.  Krull looked 
up at the mandrill who was watching with no small interest.
	"What was that all about?" Rafiki asked.
	"The boy fell asleep three times while on duty."  Krull scratched 
behind one ear.  "Technically, I should have killed him the second 
time."
	Rafiki's eyes widened.  "Technically, I'm glad you didn't."
	"His wife is near to delivery, and he's been hunting for two 
instead of sleeping days."  Krull sat up and shook himself busily.  
"Some things tend to get overlooked.  If you'll excuse me?"
	"Oh, of course."  Rafiki watched the hyena trot off and disappear 
into the grass.  The wind followed him, ruffling the plants in living 
waves that rippled across the savannah.  As Rafiki watched, one wave 
apeared to die abrupty, as if it had struck a rock or kopje hidden in 
the grass.
	He sat up, intrested, as he saw the forms of several hyenas moving 
through the grass.  His eyes saw something vaguely familiar about the 
way they were walking, almost as if they were-
	He was jolted by the realization that the hyenas were moving in 
one of Uzuri's well known sweep patterns.  His eyes flicked busily 
across the grass.  Keeping them unfocused, he scanned the area quickly, 
remembering how she had explained this pattern worked and--there they 
were.  Barely discernable at this distance, the supple forms of 
lionesses glided theough the savannah, moonlight gleaming off their 
pelts.  Noting the direction of their travel, Rafiki looked and saw the 
small group of antelope that huddled together, drowsing the night away 
in the security of numbers.
	Down below, Uzuri was also eyeing the antelope, but for a 
different reason.
	The hunt mistress paused, one forepaw lifted, frozen in statuesque 
beauty as she assessed the situaton.  Without taking her eyes from the 
herd ahead, she flicked her left ear twice, as if deterring a 
particularly bothersome fly.  But the nuances of the motion, lost on one 
unfamiliar with the hunt, were crystal clear to her sisters.  Isha saw 
the signal and immediately complied, stealthily widening her distance 
from Uzuri by approximately two body lengths.  Uzuri repeated the motion 
on the opposite side, and Sarabi mirrored the manuver to her right.  The 
other four lionesses, despite being out of sight on her flanks, were 
doubtless adjusting their positions as well.
	As Uzuri resumed creeping toward the antelope, she wondered if the 
hyenas were even in the correct positions on the far side of the herd.  
She could only hope; her instructions had been terse and precise, but 
even the simplest of commands were often lost on those imbeciles.  If 
only one of them got out of position, the whole group might not catch 
anything-
	She berated herself for letting her thoughts wander so; there was 
work to be done.  Rising slightly, she flicked her tail, and the 
lionesses slowly began closing on the herd.
	Rafiki shifted slightly to get a better view at the lionesses 
began moving towards the antelope herd.  He strained to see in the 
grayish light cast by the moon overhead, and looked up angrily at the 
slight clouds which scudded over the moon, dimming the luminance into 
near nothingness.
	"Come on," he muttered.  "Give an old monkey a break."
	As if in answer, the clouds tattered from the forceful winds high 
overhead, and the savanna below was suddenly alive with moving shapes.  
He picked out Uzuri at the center of the arc of lionesses, her slight 
form strange and beautiful in the silver light.
	"Careful, honey tree, oh so careful," he whispered.  He watched 
her pick her way across the grassland, silent as the night sneaking in 
on the heels of twilight.
	More movement caught his eyes, and he glanced across the swatch of 
grassland to see the hyenas closing from the other direction.  The 
pattern fell into place with an almost audible click, and he smiled, 
unable to help himself.  The two groups had surrounded the herd 
perfectly, allowing no gaps for it to slip through.  Someone would be 
guaranteed at least one strike, maybe at least three before the fleeing 
animals would escape.
	"Uzuri," he breathed softly, "you are pure genius."  He leaned 
forward to get a better look at her, and felt a small nudge against his 
midsection.  Looking down he saw the mixing bowl slipping away from his 
lap, the precious Alba flakes stirring restlessly.  He flailed at it, 
but the bowl slipped from his grasp to fall with a gentle swish on his 
bed below.  Eyeing it agitatedly, he saw with relief that the Alba had 
not spilled, and began to clamber down to get his treasured herbs, 
sparing a fleeting glance at the closing predators.
	Far below, Pipkah gritted his teeth at the wait.  Why in blazes 
hadn't the idiot lioness started the attack yet?  Mother of All, the 
antelope were practically in front of him!  He eyed the herd greedily, 
salivating at the sight of the meaty forms that slumbered away, ignorant 
of his presence.
	Finally, he spat in the dust. "I'm going to starve before we catch 
anything with our "tactics."  He glanced over at the two youngsters next 
to him.  "Losara, Makh'rish: see that youngling over there?"
	The two looked at the antelope and spied the small calf lying 
beside it's mother.  "Yes."
	"That is your target.  Res'shakh and I will pick off the mother.  
On my signal we rush them.  Understand?"
	Losara nodded, her eyes shining with admiration at his leader's 
daring, but Makh'rish looked nervous.  "S-Sir?  Aren't we supposed to 
wait until the lions signal us?"
	"Are you questioning my authority?  Or would you rather follow 
that hairy wretch instead of your own kind?"
	"N-No sir," she stammered.
	"Then be silent and obey me."  Pipkah looked back at the antelope 
a moment longer, then nodded.  "GO!!!"
	The hyenas bolted forward, legs flying under them as they 
propelled themselves towards the herd.  Pipkah grinned with exhilaration 
and gave out a high yodeling laugh of joy.  "YAHHHHH!"
	The herd of antelope exploded into sudden motion, startling Uzuri 
and raising her hackles.  "What in the-"
	The sound of hyannic laughter drifted to her, and she snarled deep 
in her chest.  "Those fools!  I KNEW this would happen." She glanced at 
Isha and Sarabi.  "Let's go, but for gods' sake be careful."  Rising 
from her crouch, she led the lionesses in a silent rush towards the 
group of antelope, who were still milling about in a panic.  They had 
only seconds left to act and still have a chance, she knew, but as soon 
as the herd got organized and began to flee, all was lost.
	Rafiki was making his way back up the branch, Alba clutched firmly 
in one hand, when he heard the commotion.  Scrambling up the rest of the 
way, he saw an enormous cloud of dust raised by the panicked antelope as 
they stirred about.  He stared disbelievingly as the hyenas charged into 
the herd, sending the frightened animals crashing off in the direction 
of the lionesses.
	"Oh, no!"  Forgetting the Alba, he launched himself into space, 
grabbing hold of a branch above him and swinging up another level to the 
very top of the baobab.  As he caught sight of the herd again, he saw an 
antelope fleeing into a dust cloud, closely pursued by a lioness.  A 
hyena cut across the dark ground from another direction and vanished 
into the dust at the same time.  A fearful cry of pain arose from the 
swirling debris, along with the sounds of a fiercly pitched struggle.  
Another cry arose, clearly leonine this time, and Rafiki wrung his 
hands, moaning.
	Young Losara lay on her side, coughing and panting heavily in the 
swirling dust.  She shook his head, trying to clear it, and moaned as 
the world seemed to spin crazily.  A terrible weight held her to the 
ground, and she fought to pull her hindquarters from beneath the furred 
form-
	She glanced over at the slumped body atop her and grinned.  She 
had done it!  By the gods above, she had pulled down an antelope on her 
first hunt!  Grinning, she wiped away the dirt from her face, imagining 
the praise her father would heap upon her!
	She froze as the dead antelope moaned and coughed fitfully.  
"Great Aiheu," it grated, "what happened?!"  She stared, eyes bulging in 
horror as the "antelope" raised it's head and looked at her, the 
features of a lioness clear in the bright moonlight.
	Ajenti groaned again as she tried to shift her weight and get up.  
Her whole left side throbbed painfully, and the dust floating about made 
every breath burn in her lungs.  She collapsed back to the ground, 
moaning as her abused body complained fiercely.  "I'm getting too old 
for this."
	Pipkah emerged from the settling dust, cursing at the top of his 
lungs as he saw the form of Losara half-buried under the lioness.  "You 
IDIOT!  I've seen dung-beetles with more brains than you, and they could 
hunt better, besides!  What in Roh'kash's name were you thinking?!"
	Losara's eyes shone with tears as she huddled under Ajenti's bulk.  
"I-"
	"Oooops, I forgot.  Thinking requires a BRAIN, and you aren't 
equipped with one, are you?!"  Pipkah turned and scratched at the dirt 
with his rear paws, showering the young hyena with sand.  "That's what I 
ought to do with you, kiddo!  When your father hears about this, I 
promise you he'll-"
	He was cut off as he beheld the hunt mistress emerging from the 
dust, eyes blazing with unrestrained fury as she took in the downed form 
of Ajenti lying atop Losara.  She paused for a minute, then stalked 
towards the young hyena, who began scrambling madly, trying to push 
Ajenti's bulk away.
	"Oh gods!  I'm sorry!  It was an accident, I swear!" She began 
sobbing uncontrollably as Uzuri drew near.  "It was all dusty and noisy 
and I thought she was the antelope, I mean they're the same color in the 
dark, oh please don't DO IT!"  She tucked her head against her chest, 
shaking with fear as Uzuri stopped next to her.  The lioness looked down 
at her for a moment, wrapped in a terrible cloak of silence.  Lion and 
hyena held their breath, waiting for the blow to fall.
	Uzuri sat up and walked over to Pipkah, who was still cursing 
softly under his breath.  Lighting fast, she drew back and struck him in 
the face, sending him sprawling in the dirt.
	"Great Roh'kash!"  Pipkah picked himself up slowly, blood running 
from his torn cheek.  "Why did you hit ME?!  SHE'S the one who ruined 
the hunt!"
	Uzuri looked at him coldly. "She made a MISTAKE.  You were 
CARELESS."




CHAPTER 46:  THE NIGHT IS YOUNG

	There was no levity on the way back to Pride Rock.  Uzuri was 
going into a slow burn, thinking of a diplomatic way to tell Shenzi and 
Taka why there was no kill tonight.  Of course that was taken care of by 
Pipkah who ran on ahead.  He would find a very undiplomatic way to put 
it, no doubt.  She sighed and resigned herself to the upbraiding she 
would no doubt receive.
	She did not bother going to the cave atop Pride Rock, but went 
straight to her favorite resting spot and flopped on her side.  Perhaps 
sleep would bring some relief if only Aiheu would catch her bad dreams 
on his claws.
	Before she could surrender to oblivion, there was a rustling of a 
small body through the underbrush.  "It better be a cub," she murmured 
spitefully.
	Just then a hyena came trotting out with a large legbone in her 
mouth.  It was Losara.
	"What are YOU doing here!  This is MY bed!"
	Bowing and scraping, Losara whined, "You had mercy on me, ma'am.  
I brought you something to help you sleep."
	She looked at the bone.  "There's no meat on it."
	"Not ON it," Losara said.  She began biting with her strong 
molars, pushing on the middle of the bone with incredible force.  The 
bone began to notch, then crack.  And before long, it split open.  It 
was hollow, and the center was filled with fatty red marrow.  "Try 
this."
	"What is it?"
	"Try it and find out."
	Uzuri took a sporting chance and sampled the marrow.  "Hey, this 
is not half bad!"
	"Not half bad??  It's one of the best parts!"
	She smiled.  "Go get the other leg and join me.  I'm not used to 
eating alone."
	"Thanks, but Ajenti has the other leg.  She deserves it."
	Uzuri smiled.  "I take back most of the bad things I've said about 
you, Losara.  I mean, it WAS dusty and it WAS our first hunt together."
	"You mean there will be others?  After tonight?"
	"You and I.  Leave Pipkah and the others behind and we might catch 
something."
	She laughed uncomfortably.  "That fool Pipkah!  He got his job 
because he makes up stories about his own prowess as a hunter.  Once he 
found a wounded rabbit and killed it.  Every time he told the story, the 
rabbit got bigger and healthier.  By the time he finished, it could 
shove the elephants aside at the water hole."  She looked down.  "He 
made us look like fools out there!  We're good hunters, Uzuri.  We're 
not all like him, but all our best hunters were loyalists."
	"Loyalists?"
	"Loyal to Amarakh, the true Roh'mach.  Ber is one of the best.  
He's a REAL hunt master.  He had this move called Dhourba, the ring.  
But he gets stuck on guard duty in the East Meadow where NOTHING ever 
happens.  All of our best hunters are on guard duty--Shenzi doesn't 
trust them.
	"Why not?"
	"Ber doesn't believe Shenzi is God's annointed.  A lot of them 
don't."  Losara drew close and said in a whisper.  "I'm one of them, 
frankly.  Amarakh was a true follower of Roh'kash.  She didn't like 
lions very much, but at least she was honest about it, not like Shenzi.  
Hon, you can't turn your back on that girl."
	"Believe me, I won't."
	"Amarakh looked like she smelled like she talked like she acted 
like she believed.  And she believed in the true God, not in magic 
tricks and badger words.  Like her or hate her, Amarakh was the real 
thing.  She wouldn't send a fool like Pipkah out there to lead a hunt, 
and she wouldn't sass poor old Sarabi.  Gods, what that lady's been 
through, and all she gets from Shenzi is grief!  And pardon me for 
saying so, but that King of yours is no Prekh Jakrel, either."
	Uzuri didn't know who Prekh Jakrel was, but she got the general 
idea.  She looked in Losara's eyes.  "You know something?  I think you 
are the real thing too."  She stirred herself and rose, stretching and 
yawning.  "The night is young.  Let's go."
	"Where?"
	"Hunting.  You and I.  I'll get you more than a legbone, I 
warrant."
	Losara was delighted.  "Uzuri, if it's just the two of us, let me 
teach you an old custom of our people.  We have a blessing before the 
hunt that we don't usually use before outsiders.  I say `Bih `malan, 
Uzuri,' and you answer, `Bih `malan, Losara."
	"I never thought I'd be speaking hyannic," Uzuri said with an 
embarrased grin.  "Bih `malan, Losara."
	Losara smiled broadly, her eyes looking directly into Uzuri's.
	"And you say?"
	"Oh, forgive me!  Bih `malan, Uzuri."
	Ajenti poked her head through the grass.  "It will take three of 
us to do the Crescent manoever."
	"Yeah!" Losara wagged her tail and her ears perked up.  "Anything 
you say, Ajenti!"

CHAPTER 47:  SEFU

	Pumbaa and Timon were walking through the forest with Simba 
tagging along at their heels.  Every day for a lion cub is full of new 
discoveries, but Simba's friends were especially prone to throw him a 
curve just when it seemed like he had them figured out.
	The day was going slowly, however, and other than a few extra 
things to eat, there was not much worth staying awake to see.  Simba 
yawned and started to flop down, when suddenly a tall bird stepped out 
of the brush.  "Can you dig it??  The gruesome twosome!"
	"Sefu!" Timon cried with obvious pleasure.  "Hey, what's shakin!  
Good to see you!"
	"Good to be seen!"  Sefu oggled Simba.  "Who's the cat, cat?"
	"That's Simba, no lion!"
	"Oooh, good comeback!"
	Sefu timidly patted Simba on the head, then took Timon aside.  
None too discretely, he said, "Hey cat, he's the deluxe model.  Comes 
with large protective devices called `folks' that eat Meerkats for less 
than this, you dig?"
	"The little guy's in trouble.  We found him on the desert."
	"What's the story?"
	"I don't know.  I don't think he wants to talk about it."
	"If it's cool with him, it's cool with me."
	Smiling broadly, Sefu stalked over to Simba on his lanky legs.  
"Yo, cubby!  I've always wanted to be this close to a lion and live to 
tell about it.  So have you always been this small?"
	Simba thought for a moment, then he saw the mischievous look in 
Sefu's eyes.  "Oh, I get it!"
	Timon said, "This is one hip hawk.  One ravin raptor.  One absurd 
bird!  You ought to hear him groove."
	"What's groove?" Simba asked.
	"Show him, Sefu!"
	Sefu waved his wings.  "Just like that?  Before the good 
vibrations?"
	"Good vibrations?"  Simba was confused.
	"Yeah.  Cloud nine.  Seventh heaven.  Peace, love and the distinct 
absence of major irritation."
	"Oh!  In the groove!"
	"Yeah."
	Simba thought.  "How do you start good vibrations?"
	"You think about your favorite things.  When the dog bites, when 
the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad.  I simply remember my favorite 
things, and then I don't feel so bad!"
	"Just don't sing it," Timon said quickly.  "Once was more than 
enough!"  The meerkat thought a moment.  "What you're saying is that you 
CAN'T do a groove from a cold start."
	"Oh yeah??"
	"Oh yeah!"
	"Well give me room!  I need space!"
	Sefu stood atop a log that acted as an impromptu podium.  He 
looked into the sky and began to sway slightly.  "Oh, I can feel it 
coming, cats!  It's coming!"
	Simba looked with fascination as the bird began to recite.  Softly 
at first, but later with more volume and confidence:

			In the dark heart of the forest
			Where the apes and leopards roam
			Is a bright spot that's like paradise
			And it's there I make my home.

			Kick back on a fern bed and listen
			And I'll tell you of subjects and kings,
			Elephant nights and antelope days
			And legions of magical things!

	Simba was fascinated.  Sefu stopped, and Simba asked, "How does it 
end?"
	"The story is being written.  It comes from the top of your head, 
from the depths of your heart.  You just open your mind and listen to 
the voices in your head.  Listen to the wordless chatter of the leaves.  
Jump right in when you can.  Timon, you add some to it."
	Timon stepped forward and threw out his arms.  "Give me space to 
live, and dig it."

			In the dark swirls by the riverbank
			Rides a leaf that's swept in thrall
			It came from places dark and drear
			And answered to the call!

	Sefu listened carefully, and looked thoughtful.  "Profound and 
very....very....uh....depressing.  Let's hear from the boy."
	Pumbaa pushed the reluctant Simba forward.  "You can do it!  Just 
make your mind a complete blank!"
	"That's easy for you to say," Timon griped.  "You've had plenty of 
practice."
	"Now hush!" Sefu said.  "Let him have at it."
	Simba looked awkwardly at his paws and cleared his throat.

			There's a lizard on the baobab
			There's a snake upon the grass

	He thought a few moments, and making the supreme effort, burst out 
with:

			There's a danger in the jungle
			But I'm not afraid to pass

			There's a loud cry in the silence
			There's a strange scent in the winds
			I'd be scared and yet I'm really not
			All because I have my friends

	"Groovy!" Sefu said.  "Dig the chubby cubby--he's a natural!  What 
he ain't got ain't hot!"
	Sefu gathered Simba under his wing.  "Look here.  You keep working 
on it, and some day you're going to go places.  There's a spot out there 
for you.  A spot for good lyricists.  You do the words, and I do the 
little black dots."
	"Little black dots?"
	"The music!"
	"Do you really think I could?"
	"Think?  THINK??  You got IT, kid!  I could make you a star!"
	"A star?  Me??"  Simba's ears flattened in fear.  "I'm too young 
to die!"
	"What?!"  Sefu blinked.  "No, kid: WE'LL be killin' THEM.  With an 
act like ours, we'll SLAY `em!"
	"Now hold on a minute here!" Pumbaa said.  "That's OUR boy!"
	"Are you holding out on me, Pumbaa?  You want to be his manager?"
	"Not his manager!" Pumbaa said gruffly.  "His father!  I'm going 
to make sure he's taken care of."
	"Okay, okay."  Sefu tapped a foot thoughtfully.  "How does a flat 
rate followed by residuals grab you?"
	"I don't mean that kind of care.  I mean love!"  Pumbaa looked a 
little embarrased.  "Hey, I love the kid.  I don't want him to write 
songs unless it's what he wants to do."
	Simba looked at Pumbaa.  Then he looked back at Sefu.  He stalked 
back to the warthog.  "Maybe later, huh?"
	"Sure, kid.  Whatever floats your boat.  I still think we could 
have made an awesome team."
	Sefu disappeared as quickly as he showed up.  Simba looked at 
Timon with puzzlement.  "Is he real?"
	"That's just him.  Part philosopher, part musician, all mental 
case.  But he's really an all right guy when you get to know him."
	"So are you, Uncle Timon.  You too, Pumbaa."
	Pumbaa smiled broadly.  "Thanks!"


CHAPTER 48:  THE CRISIS

	Often a flood began with a few drops of rain, and a fire began 
with a few small sparks.  The first few times Simba felt discomfort 
after a meal, he thought nothing of it.  But finally as days passed into 
weeks, eating became an exercise in frustration for him.  It finally got 
to the point where he had to be nagged by Pumbaa to eat enough to get 
by.
	He was growing thin.  Pumbaa looked at his ribs and said, "Hey, 
it's not right for a young fellow not to be hungry like that."  He took 
Timon aside.  "I'm worried about him."
	Finally even Timon became worried.  He felt of Simba's forehead 
and asked him to stick out his tongue.  Everything looked fine, even 
when he peered at the whites of Simba's eyes.  Though he was no healer, 
Timon decided that it was probably nothing to worry about-just a 
childhood disease.
	In fact Simba's appetite kicked in when Pumbaa uncovered a whole 
nest of Cleoptrid Beetles.  They were large, crunchy, and actually had a 
taste that appealed to Simba.  While Pumbaa and Timon were very hungry, 
they were so glad to see their friend actually eating like his old self 
that they let him have his fill, even though he ate every last one.
	It wasn't very long until the nausea came back.  "Maybe I 
overate," Simba said.  "I need some water to wash this down.  Or I need 
something."
	"There's a stream not far from here.  Come on."
	"No, Timon.  I don't think I can make it."
	"Do you want to up chuck?  Hey, we won't watch, will we Pumbaa?"
	"Just let me...."  Simba's face was a picture of suffering.  He 
coughed, then wretched.  "Oh no," he stammered.  Another great heave 
nearly bent him in two.  His meal came up, mixed with a few spots of 
blood.  "Help me!  Oh gods, help me!"
	"What can I do?"  Pumbaa was in despair.  "Can I get you 
anything?"
	"No!"
	Simba fell on his side and curled up.  He wretched repeatedly, 
splattering the ground with the rest of his meal.  But the contractions 
did not stop.  
	"Is it gas?"
	"Pumbaa, with you, everything is...."  Timon looked at the pain in 
Simba's eyes.  "We have to do something!"
	"Let's pray," Pumbaa said.
	"It's been so long.  I wonder if God still knows I'm here."
	"There's one way to find out."
	Timon put both of his small hands on one of Simba's paws.  "Don't 
you leave me, pal!  God, give the little guy a break.  He's had a hard 
time of it, and he needs something Pumbaa and I can't give him.  Give us 
a clue.  I mean, even if I could help, I don't know how."  He started as 
Simba's paw quivered in his hands, the cub's muscles flexing with the 
force of his exertions.
	Pumbaa began to cry.  "Look at the little boy, God!  He's hurting.  
Make him stop hurting, please?"
	Simba broke out in a sweat.  He still retched, though nothing came 
up but a yellowish drool.
	Timon looked up at the sky.  "Look, God, I don't mean to rush you 
or anything, but if you don't do something quick, it's going to be too 
late!  Geez, he's only a little kid!  He deserves a fighting chance."
	A rustling in the underbrush startled them, and they turned to see 
two hyenas step out slowly, scenting the air.  The bigger female stepped 
forward and spoke, stumbling slightly in the common language.  "We take 
care of him."  
	"Hey, you'll have to kill us first!"
	"You're Timon, are you not?"  The male saw by his startled 
expression that he must be right.  "We here-"  He shook his head and 
tried again.  "We are here to help you with the sick child.  You were 
the one that asked God to give the child a fighting chance, aren't you?"
	"You could have overheard us.  That's not a miracle."  Timon did 
not trust them.  "Get lost before my buddy here stomps you flat."
	The male fixed Timon with his gaze, stilling the meerkat as he 
stared into the deep set eyes of the hyena.  Sparkles winked on and off 
in there, a dancing firelight of silver as the hyena spoke softly.  
"There is nothing whatever to fear from us."  
	Timon answered back, "I'm not afraid."
	"We trust we will have your full cooperation."
	Timon nodded.  "If there's anything I can do for you, just let me 
know."  
	The male said, "You will introduce me to the child."
	"Sure.  Simba, these are two good friends of mine.  They have come 
here to help you."
	"Who are they?" Simba asked, cringing from another spasm.
	"I don't know," Timon said, looking puzzled.  "I must have 
forgotten their names."
	Simba cringed away from the huge hyenas as they moved closer.  "I 
am Gur'bruk, and this is my bak'ret Kambra.  We are--how you say--
healers.  We were sent by Minshasa, the lioness of white hair.  You know 
her, don't you?"
	Simba's eyes flickered for a moment, but another spasm of pain 
wrenched at him, and he simply moaned.
	"I don't know any white lionesses," Timon said, puzzled.  "But 
hey, I'm glad she sent you."
	Kambra sniffed of the spots on the ground.  "This is bad.  We must 
act now."
	"I could have told you that."
	Gur'bruk frowned at Timon, and the meerkat silenced.  Then 
Gur'bruk had Simba lay on his side.  "Look at my eyes, son.  Can you 
tell me what color they are?"
	"Sure.  They're brown."
	"Are you sure?  Are you very sure?"
	"Well I--no, they're green.  No wait, they're blue.  Hey, how did 
you do that?"
	"I will tell you in a minute.  But right now, what color are 
they?"
	"They're still blue but there are little white things--oh, it's 
the sky!  I can see the clouds move!"
	"Very good.  If you look at the clouds, some of them are shaped 
like things you know."
	Kambra was feeling over Simba's body with a paw.  Though she was 
barely touching him, it was clear from her face that she was 
concentrating very hard.
	"Look past the clouds," Gur'bruk asked.  "Are there birds in the 
sky?"
	"Yes.  Lots of them."
	Kambra's roving ceased as she stared intently at a spot on Simba's 
side.  Nodding, she glanced up at Timon and winked.  Then she looked at 
Gur'bruk oddly for a moment, and turned back to Simba.
	"Are all of the birds the same?"
	"Yes."
	"Every one?"  Gur'bruk cocked an ear slightly.  "How about the one 
in front?"
	"I see it now.  Most of them are black, but the one in front is 
red."
	"That is your pain, Simba.  See it fly away?  He takes your pain 
with him.  He is going far away, and he is not coming back.  Do you feel 
the pain smaller?"
	Simba's tense features softened.  He had a relaxed smile.  "Oh 
yeah.  Oh that feels better!  Make the bird stay away."
	"I promise you we will.  I had a little ban'ret like you in the 
past.  When he hurted, I play the bird game with him.  It made him feel 
better."
	"Where is your boy now?  All grown up?"
	"He go to died," Gur'bruk said.
	"That's so sad.  Gur'bruk, there are dark clouds in the sky now.  
It looks like a storm coming."
	"Yes, I feel it"  Gur'bruk's eyes misted up and a quiet tear 
trickled down his cheek.  "His name was Gur'mekh.  Simba is a pretty 
name.  What does it mean?"
	"Lion."
	"I think it fits you maybe."
	Timon moved forward as Kambra nosed Simba's side again, her tongue 
flicking out for a second.  "Hey!  What're you DOING--"  He stared, 
gaping in astonishment as Kambra drew back and then plunged her muzzle 
inside Simba, her nose disappearing into him as if she were penetrating 
her reflection at a water hole.
	"Oh my gods!"  Timon wavered drunkenly and sat down hard, head 
swimming as he watched the impromptu operation in progress.  There was 
no blood, and Simba certainly gave no sign of pain as he continued to 
stare into Gur'bruk's eyes.  Kambra pulled suddenly, and out came a pink 
growth which she discarded in the brush.  Sitting back, she sighed 
satisfactorily.  "All done."
	Timon glared at her suspiciously and ran over to Simba.  Gritting 
his teeth, he felt around gingerly under the fur, expecting to find the 
matted wetness of blood and the ragged edge of a wound in his side.
	Instead, he found nothing.  he began combing through the soft fur, 
poking at the firm hide of the cub. "Where'd ya hide it?!"
	Simba giggled slightly at the touch, and Gur'bruk smiled.  "The 
game is over now.  How do you feel, young ban'ret?"
	Simba got up and shook off.  "I feel hungry!"
	Gurbruk nuzzled him, as did Kambra.
	Timon breathed a sigh of relief and grinned at Kambra. "I could 
just kiss you if you didn't eat carrion."  
	"I could just kiss you back if you did not eat the grubs."
	"Good point."  He patted her and pecked her cheek.  "We owe you 
one."
	"Owe me one what?"  She thought for a moment.  "Oh it's a 
figuresque of speech."  She looked at Timon closely.  "Now listen, old 
ban'ret.  Fate the path goes--if you--how you say `ta'kher ohvi 
gabrukh....'"  She stopped, putting her paw on his face and 
concentrating.  "Your charge will find a glorious destiny," she said in 
flawless Suricati.
	Stunned, he dropped back into his native tongue.  "I'd believe it.  
He's a great kid."  Timon scratched behind his ear and shifted uneasily.  
"Tell me the truth: will the problem come back?"
	"What is he eating?"
	"Grubs and beetles, mainly."
	"Oh gods!  That's what caused it.  You have to teach him how to 
hunt.  Or at least how to scavenge."
	"Scavenging we can do, but I'm no carnivore."
	"Bugs are not what Roh'kash meant for lions to eat.  You must 
change his lifestyle, at least a little.  There are some herbs you can 
try to stall the problem, but someday you'll have to let him be what he 
was born to be, a hunter."
	"I guess so.  But hey, where did you guys come from?  I mean, 
you're not from around here, are you?"
	"No."  Kambra closed her eyes and sighed.  "But where we came 
from, we cannot go."
	Timon fell silent as he looked at her, recognizing a kindred soul 
of one who has been cast out.  Yet he knew somehow that this was much 
more than a simple outcast before him.  Gur'bruk came to stand beside  
Kambra, kissing her face and nuzzling her neck.  Timon regarded them 
soberly, seeing the comfort they took from one another, but there was an 
evident look of sadness on their faces that was at once noble and 
poignant.
	Reverting to common speech he said, "Look, why don't you guys 
stick with us?  I mean, we don't have a home either.  Not really."
	"We go where Roh'kash sends us, like the restless wind."
	"In a way, so do we."
	Pumbaa looked at them wonderingly.  "Will we ever see you again?"
	"If you need us once more, you will see us."  Without explanation, 
he looked up and said, "Yolanda, we paid the debt."
	The two vanished back into the undergrowth in a quiet rustle of 
leaves.  Timon and Pumbaa stared after them for a long moment, until 
they were distracted by a cough behind them.  They turned to see Simba 
rising unsteadily on all four legs, a look of disgust on his face as he 
spat into the dust.
	"Yech!  My mouth tastes like five day old pond scum!"
	"Must've been something you ate," Timon said dryly.  "C'mon, kid, 
let's go get some water."
	"Yeah!"
	From the concealment of the lush undergrowth, Gur'bruk and Kambra 
watched the trio meander away, the cub leaning against Pumbaa's shoulder 
as Timon perched on his head, directing the way to the water hole.  
Gur'bruk blinked as his thoughts raced unspoken to his mate.  "Do you 
think they'll be all right?"
	"They'll be fine."  She smiled at him.  "Have faith, love."
	"I trust Roh'kash implicitly.  THOSE two..."
	"...are fulfilling their destiny.  Just as the cub will one day, 
with their help."  She looked after the odd trio, her smile fading.  
Gur'bruk felt an odd feeling emenating from her, something akin to awe. 
He looked at her curiously, and she met his gaze, her eyes shining. "I 
told the meerkat the child was destined for great things, and he is.  
When I removed the growth, I was caught up in his Ka.  He's the one true 
king!  And he is the annointed."
	"The annointed?  What are you saying??"
	"He bears the mark of Duhbrek.  Roh'kash had chosen him from his 
birth to bring freedom to the captives and mercy to the oppressed."
	"And we were sent to save his life!"  Gur'bruk closed his eyes and 
muttered, "Thank you, Lord!"
	She fell quiet, trembling.  "Yes.  We have paid the price.  
Husband, he has set us free!"
	"I think so, dear.  But we must wait on the Lord.  Roh'kash will 
send us a sign."
	"What kind of sign?"
	"I don't know.  But when it happens, we'll know."
	Just then they heard a rustling in the undergrowth.  "Muti?  
Maleh?"
	Gur'bruk gasped.  "My gods, it's the sign!"
	Kambra cared nothing for signs.  She shrieked, running to 
Gur'mekh's ka.  As tears streamed from her eyes, she rubbed him and 
smothered him with kisses, yipping a string of wordless utterances that 
were wrongly called "hyena laughter" by those who did not understand.   
Raising up on her back legs, she wrapped her forearms around his neck, 
pushing him to the ground and nuzzling him desperately.  "My precious 
little boy!" she finally choked out between her sobs.  "Gur'bruk, it's 
him!"


CHAPTER 49:  THE MASTER

	Simba recovered rapidly as the weeks progresed filling out nicely 
as his appetite returned with a vengance.  Timon and Pumbaa were more 
than happy to oblige, Pumbaa doing the heavy work of lifting logs and 
nudging over stones to find special goodies while Timon hunted down the 
odd herbs which Kambra had told him about that would keep Simba's 
innards working properly.
	The three of them busily engaged in devouring a particularly 
feisty group of ants, the little insects tickling the throat delightedly 
as they went down.  Simba giggled nonstop throughout the entire meal, 
giving rise to a bout of hiccups that, while short lived, was 
particularly intense, much to the amusement of his companions.
	Finishing his meal finally, the cub shook himself and padded over 
to where Timon lay, uttering a periodic "HIC!" every now and again.  
Coming alongside, he flopped down and rolled sideways onto his 
companion.
	"ACK!  Hey!  Whattaya tryin; to do, squash me?!"
	"Oops."  Simba rolled back, watching as Timon brushing himself 
off, breathing deeply.  "Sorry.  You okay?"
	"Fine."  Timon felt his ribs gingerly.  "Just don't do that again, 
okay?"
	"Okay."  Simba got up and wandered away to where Pumbaa was lying, 
snoring noisily as he digested his meal.  Simba laid his ear against 
Pumbaa's belly and grinned; the warthog's stomach was making as much 
noise as his mouth was, and with a much wider range of noises.  He 
brushed against Pumbaa lightly, then made his way to the warthog's head, 
leaning against his face as he nuzzled him.
	Pumbaa's eyes shot open and he sneezed violently, jarring Simba 
away.  "Eufff!  I can't breathe!"
	"What's wrong?"
	Pumbaa sat up and blasted another sneeze toward him, sending fur 
flying in a small burst.  Your hair makes my dose itch," he said, 
sniffling.  "Please don't do dat--WAA-CHOOOO!--again, `kay?"
	Simba wilted.  "Okay."  He padded away slowly as Pumbaa lay back 
down, still rubbing his nose.  Finding a soft bed of leaves, Simba 
flopped down and lay his head on his paws, the good feeling of the funny 
little ants gone completely now.  Absently, he bagan to groom his 
forepaws in slow strokes, ignoring the fact that they were clean, in 
fact much cleaner than any cub his age had a right to be.  Sarabi had 
brooked no refusal in this area, and she had instilled her 
fastidiousness in her son in this regard.  Simba smiled slightly as he 
remembered sitting by her one cool evening, the carefully picked over 
remains of an antelope behind them when she had given him his first 
taste of meat.  They had lain together against the slowly cooling body, 
Simba sprawled across her forepaws, his eyes closed in utter ecstasy as 
she had licked him clean of the animal's blood.  The purring from deep 
in her chest had been loud against his ear, and he had answered in kind, 
content to simply be there with her, to feel her soft fur against his 
face, reveling in the warm sweeps of her tongue that smelled of lioness 
love.
	Pumbaa glanced back at Simba, wondering at his sudden silence, and 
saw the tears leaking slowly from the cub's eyes.  "What's wrong?"
	Timon glanced over and got up to join him.  "Jeez, you look blue."
	"That means you're depressed, right?"  Pumbaa looked at Simba 
worriedly.
	"Yes, that's right, and I am." Simba said.
	"WHOOPEE!  I remembered!"  He looked at Timon proudly.  
	Simba smiled weakly, unable to remember when his depression had 
last brought someone so much pleasure.
	Timon shushed his friend.  "What's the matter, kid?"
	"I feel awful."
	"Oh no, not again!"  Alarmed, Timon put his hand on Simba's brow.  
"You don't FEEL sick."
	Simba lost his tenuous grip on his emotions and began to weep 
openly.  "I want my mother!"
	"Aw, don't do that!  Hey, kiddo.  Let me show you something.  Ever 
seen me juggle?"
	He sniffed and wiped his eyes.  "What's that?"
	Timon ruffled the young lion's head affectionately.  "I'll show 
you."  Timon picked up three pebbles about the size of his own head. 
"Juggling, my dear carnivorous compadre, is a specialty of mine.  It's 
easy!  You just take a couple of stones in your hands like...."  The 
meerkat trailed off, nonplused, as he looked at Simba's enormous paws.  
"Hmm.  Problem.  Ahh, well, just watch me.  I'll show ya a trick or 
two."
	Timon tossed the first stone dexterously into the air and quickly 
followed it with the other two.  The three rocks became a blur of motion 
as they circled rapidly, forming a grayish oval that framed his face.  
"See?"
	"Wow!"  Simba stared, entranced.  "You're awesome!"
	Timon shook his head solemnly.  "This, awesome?  Nope.  This is 
for beginners, kid.  And I am the master.  Hey, Pumbaa!  Throw me 
another stone!"
	The warthog tossed another rock to him.  Timon caught it 
backhanded, where it joined the others.
	Simba laughed delightedly.  "Boss!"
	"Boss?  Where do these kids come up with this stuff?"  Timon 
nodded to Pumbaa.  "C'mon."
	Pumbaa grinned as he tossed another stone to the meerkat, then 
another.  Soon six stones were orbiting around Timon's head.  Sweat 
matted the reddish cap of fur on his head, and his arms were growing 
heavy.  "Guess that's enough."
	Simba looked at him eagerly.  "One more, pleeease?"
	"I don't know..."
	"Aw, c'mon, Timon!"  Pumbaa watched his friend struggling to hold 
the stones aloft.  "You said you were the master."
	"You stay outa this!"
	Simba flattened out on the ground, stretching out a paw before him 
as though addressing the king.  "Pleeease, Unca Timon?"
	"Aww...."  Timon's mouth flattened into a thin line.  "Why not.  I 
AM the master!  Pumbaa!  Another stone, if you please!"
	Obligingly, the warthog picked up another pebble and tossed it to 
him.  It was ripped out of the air by his flailing hand and sent aloft 
to join the other six in one perfect, fluid motion.  Timon gaped up at 
the circling stones.  "I did it!"
	Pumbaa cackled as he flicked an eighth stone to the blissful 
meerkat.  Reflexively, Timon grabbed for it and lost control.
	"Look out below!"  The others ducked as the stones rained down on 
the beleaguered Meercat's head, each impact punctuated by an agonized 
"YEOWCH!"  The onslaught over, Timon raised his head and rubbed his 
abused skull gingerly as he surveyed the litter of rocks around him.
	"What happened Unca Timon?  Did you drop them?"
	"What?"  Timon looked indignant.  "No, of course not!  I uh, just 
wanted to show you how dangerous juggling could be.  A guy could get 
KILLED," he said, glaring at Pumbaa, who merely grinned wider.
	"Okay, if you say so.  I feel lots better, though."  Simba bent 
and kissed him on the cheek.  "Thanks, Unca Timon. You're the greatest."
	Timon smiled, and the ache in his head seemed to lessen abruptly.  
"Sure.  No problem, kid."
	Simba gave him a wet lick that sent him back on his keester.  He 
got up silently, brushing himself off.
	Simba's face fell as he peered at the meerkat in alarm.  "I'm 
sorry!  You aren't mad, are you?"
	"No, I like it."  Timon abruptly opened his arms and embraced 
Simba's neck, hugging the cub to him.  "We're all family here."


CHAPTER 50: GROWING PAINS

	Simba seemed ignorant of the fact that he was growing like a weed.  
His rough and ready play was cute once, but nature took its course, and 
the inevitable happened.  One day he was playing with Pumbaa and gave 
the warthog a playful whack that sent him reeling.  Pumbaa shook his 
head and tapped his ear with a forefoot as if to set his brain back in 
its socket.  
	"Hey, are you all right?"
	"Nothing a good nap won't fix.  But please to remember to retract 
your claws, and watch that right cross, little guy."  Pumbaa sat back 
and regarde the young lion, noting the lanky form and the smooth 
interplay of muscles across Simba's shoulders that was becoming easily 
visible.  "Really, you're not such a little guy anymore."
	Timon had long since stopped playing with Simba, and directed his 
lighter moods into word games and riddles.  Timon looked at Simba 
appraisingly.  "When will you be grown up, and how big will you be?"
	Simba furrowed his forehead in thought.  "When I'm three, I'll be 
a grown up, but I won't get any bigger when I'm two and a half.  I don't 
know how big I'll be."  He looked up at the angle he used to take to 
peer into his mother's eyes.  "Gee, I guess I'll know when I'm two and a 
half."
	Simba was a work in progress.  Every day, his potential unfolded 
like an opening flower, but there was one particular day when it really 
became real to him.  He was playing with a tortoise near the water's 
edge, batting it around playfully and finally knocking it into the 
creek.  He came to the water, still rippling with the splash, but even 
then he noticed something odd about his reflection.  Waiting until it 
stilled, he took in a deep breath and let it out in a shout of delight.
	"Timon!  Pumbaa!!  Check it OUT!"  He reached back with a paw and 
trembling with joy stroked the first russet hairs of his emerging mane.  
"Look, it's happening!"
	"What, what?"  Timon looked up from the pursuit of a lovely red 
beetle, annoyed at the interruption.  "WHAT'S happening??"
	Simba was prancing around so quickly that they couldn't see what 
the big deal was.  "Look guys, just LOOK!"
	"Hold it!  What is it, kid?"
	"Look at my mane, guys!  I got a mane coming in!"
	Pumbaa stares, entranced.  "Wow!  You really DO have a mane coming 
in!"
	"Yeah!"  Simba grinned again.  "Cool!"
	Timon smiled, but uncertainly.  "That's nice and all if it's your 
thing, but what's the deal about manes, anyway?"
	Simba looked at him as if Timon had asked him for the reason 
behind breathing.  "What's the big deal??  A mane is...."  He thought a 
moment.  "Well the girls dig it."
	His euphoria faded rapidly as he pondered the odds of a girl 
noticing him at all.  The lion population of the jungle was notoriously 
small; currently, it was running at exactly one.  He regareded the wall 
of greenery around him with sudden dislike; it seemed cloying, the 
scents of rotten vegetation and flowers abruptly nauseating.
	"Girls!  Oy!"  Timon looked at him and shook his head.  "Girls are 
trouble.  Nothing but trouble.  I mean, what girl ever took care of you 
the way we do?"
	Simba thought a moment.  "My mother."
	"Oh.  Good point."  Timon looked down at his feet and shuffled 
them in the dust.  "Well you know what I mean."
	"Nala, too."  Simba took in a deep breath and let it out.  "You 
know, we had this funny hornbill named Zazu.  He used to watch out for 
us, and one day he said that Nala and I were-uh--I think the word was 
betrothed.  It means we were going to be married someday."
	"And what did you tell him?"
	"I said that was really weird.  I mean, she was my best friend."
	A look crossed Simba's face as if someone had punched him right in 
the stomach.  He turned around and looked back at the water.  "Good old 
Nal.  I guess she has another boyfriend now."  His lips tightened as a 
tear of regret ran down his cheek and splashed in the water, leaving 
little silver rings.  "Gods, I wish I could see her one more time.  And 
my mother."  He knelt and looked at his visage in the water again.  "I'm 
so alone!"
	"Not that again," Timon said with a sigh.  "How many times do I 
have to tell you--you have us.  We're your family, kid.  We won't let 
you down."
	Pumbaa suddenly erupted into tears, surprising everyone.  "Ohhh, 
now you're gonna leave us!"
	"What??"  Simba looked around.  "Leave you??"
	Timon looked around.  "Leave us??"
	Pumbaa said, "When your mane grows in, it means your grown up, 
right?"
	"Yeah....  So?"
	Pumbaa bawled with renewed vigor.  "You'll want to leave the nest!  
You won't want a daddy anymore!"
	"What's that got to do with it?  I mean, we lions don't go off 
alone unless we HAVE to.  Well, I don't wanna leave."  He looked at them 
apprehensively.  "You...you guys won't kick me out, will you?"
	"Heavens, no!" Timon said earnestly, patting him.  "We're a 
gleesome threesome!  I mean, hey kid, we, like, love you."  His face 
drew down in a set expresion.  "There.  I've said it."
	Simba regarded him silently for a moment, overwhelmed.  "Well, I, 
like, love you guys too.  There, I've said it back."  Simba smiled 
craftily and shouted, "Everyone into the pool!"  Before Timon and Pumbaa 
could budge, he sprang, launching his body, now weighing well over a 
hundred pounds, into the air over the pond, sailing down to belly-flop 
into the water in a tremendous geyser that showered his companions.  
Pumbaa shrieked with glee, rolling delightedly in the muddy bank.  His 
friend, however, was not so amused.
	Timon stood trembling, legs akimbo, his fur utterly drenched with 
mud and water.  He uttered an incoherent growl as he gritted his teeth 
and shook his fist at Simba.  "Oy!  What IS it with you guys?!  Are you 
part frog, or what?!"
	A small toad near the water's edge emitted a small croak.
	Timon glared hotly at it. "Aw, shaddap!"


CHAPTER 51: WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT

	Food was becoming scarce for the inhabitants of Pride Rock.  They 
spent more time looking for their basic diet.  But Uzuri and Losara 
still found time to hunt together on the sly, just for the companionship 
and to share what they caught with some of the cubs.
	Uzuri was in genuine awe of Losara's focus and natural grace.  She 
longed to see the loyalists together again, performing a star-and-four 
manuver the way they once did under Amarakh and Ber.  Losara was deeply 
touched when Uzuri added the move to her repertorie.
	Uzuri pawed Losara.  "Bih `malan, Losara."
	Losara smiled warmly as she always did at that moment.  "Bih 
`malan, Uzuri.  Bih `malan!"
	They were about to leave for their hunt together when Pipkah 
recalled them.  "In the cave, ladies.  The King says we hunt again."
	"What??"  Uzuri looked around with anger.  "Again??"
	They went into the cave at the top of Pride Rock.  Uzuri did not 
dare anger Taka.  He glared at her, obviously upset by her frequent 
absences.
	"It's time for the traditional blessing," Taka said.
	Pipkah had nerve enough to try and join the lions, sure that if 
Losara could, he could.  As hunt master of the hyenas, Taka no doubt 
expected Uzuri to address her blessing to him.  She didn't feel like 
blessing him, but thought a good blessing might soothe Taka's nerves.  
She decided to do something a little different.
	"Bih `malan, Pipkah."
	Pipkah looked at her strangely, then grinned embarrasedly, the tip 
of his tail wagging slightly.  "Bih `malan, Uzuri!"
	All of the hyenas took in a gasp and smiled.  One of them 
whispered something to Taka, and Taka smiled broadly, looking at Uzuri 
with mixed surprise and gratitude.
	Uzuri smiled a relieved smile and headed off with the others.
	The hunt was rather uneventful as hunts go, but Losara found an 
excuse to get near Uzuri.
	"Uzuri, I have to tell you something rather important."
	"What is it, Losara?"
	"Well, that blessing is something just between the two of us.  
It's not really traditional."
	"Oh?  You sound upset."
	"More like embarrased."  Losara scratched herself with 
embarrasment.  "How can I put this?"
	"What does it mean?"
	"Well, when I say it, it means, well...."  Losara swallowed hard.  
"It means something I really feel.  It means `I love you.'"  Uzuri 
simply stared at her, and Losara hurried to continue.  "It was wrong of 
me, and I apologize.  But I do love you, Uzuri."  Losara looked at her 
nakedly.  "I thought if I told you it was a blessing, you'd say it back 
to me."  She looked down at the ground, feeling the shame sweep over her 
like fire.  "I'm sorry--"
	Uzuri looked at her solemnly.  "There, there, child.  No offense 
taken."  Uzuri allowed a slight smile.  "But I wish you'd just....oh my 
gods!  Pipkah!"



CHAPTER 52:  GOING NATIVE

	"Awright, Simba.  Ya ready?"
	The lion nodded and raised a forepaw.
	"Okay."  Timon squinted his eyes to slits, and Pumbaa did 
likewise.  "Three...two...one...GO!!"
	The heavy paw swung down, slamming into the rotten wood and 
sending splinters flying in a spectacular detonation.  Insects and grubs 
of all kinds sprayed through the air, falling upon the heads of the 
three companions in a bizarre rainshower as Timon hooted with obvious 
delight.  "WAHOO!  You hit a gusher, Simba!"
	"Thanks."  The lion grinned at his friend as Timon waded in.  
"Geez!  Leave some for me, willya?!"  Simba pounced forward and snuffled 
up a mouthful of the squirmy bugs, chewing with relish.
	"Me?!"  Timon planted his hands on his hips in righteous 
indignation.  "Look at you, big mouth!  This from a guy who eats a whole 
nest of termites and comes back asking for seconds!"
	Pumbaa snorted and lifted his head.  "Reawwy guys," he said, 
chewing around a mouthful of chittering beetles, "it's impowite to tawk 
wif your mouf full."
	Timon wiped saliva from his face busily.  "Thanks Mom," he shot 
back.  "Do you serve towels with your showers?"  He picked the remains 
of a half eaten beetle from his face, then popped it in his mouth and 
chewed thoughtfully. "Hmmm....not bad."
	"Timon?"
	"Yeah, Pumbaa?"
	"What's a shower?"
	"Something you only take when it rains."
	"Cool it, guys!"  Simba lifted his head and sniffed warily, 
nostrils twitching in agitation.  "I smell something funny."
	Pumbaa blushed and lowered his head.  "Sorry."
	"Not you.  This smells great!"
	"Hey!"  Pumbaa grunted indignantly.  "It's not MY fault--"
	"Shhhh!  Concentrate."  Simba turned and paced slowly around for a 
minute, scenting the wind.  "This way.  C'mon!"  He padded off into the 
dense jungle, the swish and swaying of small branches the only sound of 
his passing.  Warthog and meerkat looked at each other uncertainly, then 
followed. 
	Simba pushed quietly through the undergrowth, pausing every now 
and again to scent at the air.  The smell was tantalizing, filling his 
head with tingles of pleasure.  Gods, the scent was alluring!  It seemed 
so strange...and yet familiar all at once.  Like...like...
	Simba stopped again, sniffing deeply of the air as Timon looked at 
him curiously.  "What's WITH you, kid?"
	"Can't you smell it?"
	Timon sniffed.  "Ech.  Smells like a brushfire."
	The thought sparked something in Simba's mind, but he couldn't 
quite place it.  "Never mind.  Let's go."
	The three wended their way among the ferns for a few more minutes, 
the scent steadily increasing as they went.  Timon perched precariously 
atop Pumbaa's head as they followed, straining to see ahaead, but the 
only thing he was permitted to see was the lazily waving tip of the 
lion's tail ahead.  He sighed and rested his chin in his hands, 
grumbling.
	Simba came to an abrupt stop, and Pumbaa scrambled to avoid 
collision.  Timon, caught unawares, sailed from atop the warthog's head 
to smack solidly against Simba's rump, bouncing to the ground in an 
ungainly heap.
	"Hey!  Why don't you watch where you're goin'--"
	"SHHH!"  Simba peered ahead.  The plants were thinning slightly, 
and he saw a faint glow from ahead.  The scent was stronger than ever.  
"Check it out, guys."
	The three crept closer, stopping at the edge of a clearing.  Timon 
and Pumbaa peered agitatedly at the sight before them, unaware of their 
companion's rapture.
	A small area of the jungle had been cleared to the dirt, the soft 
loam of the forest scraped aside to the hard dirt underneath.  A strange 
hedge of sorts ringed the clearing, odd for the fact hat it appeared to 
be made of dead limbs and sticks rather than live plants.  Peeking 
through the holes in the hedge, the three saw the twisting and writhing 
shape of an enormous bonfire in the center of the clearing.  Around it 
stood what appeared to be large bushes made of the same dead sticks.  
And around the fire paced strange animals of a type that Simba had seen 
only rarely.  They reminded him of monkeys, somehow, what with the way 
they walked on their hind legs, but the funny thing was their skin.  
Simba snickered in spite of himself.  "Lookit that, fellas.  They don't 
have any hair!"
	"Like they need it," groused Timon.  "Those are people, Simba, 
remember?  I told you about people.  They're as noisy as badgers and 
twice as mean.  We better get outa here."
	"Oh, man," Simba breathed.  He had spotted the source of the 
scent.  Over the fire stood a couple of sticks, and on them was perched 
an enormous antelope, sizzling and spitting in the flames.  His tongue 
rolled out and he licked his lips slowly, never taking his eyes from the 
meat.  "Oh gods, I would give my whiskers for a taste of that."
	Pumbaa shook his head, then glanced to one side, where the humans 
were hoisting up another animal by the hind legs to cook.  His eyes 
widened in horror as he saw the tusks of a warthog protruding from the 
snout.  "Yeesh!  I'm outta here!"
	"No, wait."  Simba licked a forepaw and slicked back the fringe of 
mane on his head and shoulders.  "I want to make a good first 
impression."
	"Are you crazy?" Timon said.  "They'll hang you right next to the 
pig."
	"I don't see how.  I'm stronger and I'm faster.  And all I want is 
the meat.  They won't follow us to get it back."
	He roared fiercely and strode forward, splintering the wood boma 
as he shouldered his way through.  A second roar sent the humans 
running, jabbering excitedly as they ran into their huts.  
	"Hey, that was easy enough!  Come on, fellows!  Let's eat!"  Simba 
padded over to the fire, wincing at the heat, and peered upwards, 
wondering how to get the antelope down.  Glancing about, he saw the 
gleam of the firelight from the eyes of the people hidden in the huts 
and grinned.
	His grin faded as they emerged, the light now glinting off the 
tips of spears, all pointed at him. "Uh oh!"
	The lion turned and bolted, rear paws spurting up dirt as he ran 
for the hole in the boma.  A whirring sound filled the air, and spears 
began to fall around him, their sharp tips whickering evilly through the 
air as they passed.  Bursting through the gap, he shot away into the 
jungle.  "C'mon, guys!  RUN FOR IT!"
	Warthog and meerkat followed obligingly as the humans emerged from 
the encampment, jabbering furiously and waving their weapons.  A hissing 
sound filled the air, and a spear blurred past Simba to bury itself in a 
nearby tree, quivering angrily.  Redoubling his speed, he crashed 
through the undergrowth, ripping vines and sticks asunder as he fled. 
Pumbaa ran alongside, Timon astride him and waving his arms wildly.
	"Come on fellows!" Timon yelled mockingly.  "Let's eat!"
	Pumbaa panted as he struggled to keep up with the terrified lion.  
"I think the natives are restless."
	"No darned kidding!"



CHAPTER 53:  SETTING LIMITS

	Simba's brush with humankind left him scared but still hungry.  
Somewhat pensive, he sat on the bank of a small pond, watching the fish 
swim in the crystal clear water.  Some of them were rather large, and he 
felt that it would be a shame to waste all that meat on the bottom of a 
cold pond when it could be inside a nice warm lion.
	He considered his approach.  As slow as the fish swam, they would 
perk up substantially the instant his paw entered the water.  As he saw 
it, there were so many fish that if he jumped in the middle of the 
school and grabbed, he ought to catch at least one.
	After a while, the fish seemed to forget that Simba was there and 
began to behave normally.  One of the came alluringly close to the 
surface, then snapped up a hapless fly that had fallen in the pond.
	"I guess it's now or never," Simba said.  He tensed up, poised 
like a statue, then sprang.
	SPLASH!!
	Timon and Pumbaa watched in awe as Simba grabbed, missed, and 
grabbed again.  Flailing about in the water, he chased fish around until 
he was covered in mud.  The slippery algae on the rocks proved a bit 
much, even for his large paws.  He slipped and fell over on his back.
	"Thunderation!"
	Some monkeys began to laugh in a nearby tree.  "Fresh fish!  Fresh 
fish!"
	Simba tried to ignore them.  He concentrated on the task at hand, 
but with mud stirred up in the water it was almost impossible.  Still he 
thrashed about, finally managing to chase a fish into some very shallow 
water.  A quick smack of his paw pinned it to the bottom.
	"Gotcha!"
	He looked up proudly.  "Hey guys, look what I got!"
	The fish thrashed around, and as slippery as it was, it worked out 
from under Simba's paw.  The lion made another quick jab, but only 
managed to get water in his eyes.  He rubbed his face with disgust.
	"Hey guys!" one of the monkeys said.  "Look what I got!"  Gales of 
laughter erupted in the tree.
	"Shut up!" Timon shouted from the nearby riverbank.  "We'll have 
gibbon instead of fish!"
	At that remark, one of the monkeys pulled a ripe fruit and tossed 
it with almost flawless accuracy.  At least it hit Pumbaa....
	Others began to pull fruit, and Timon sounded a quick retreat.  It 
was just in the nick of time, too.  Fruit began landing all around them 
as they scrambled to put distance between themselves and the troop.
	As Simba ran, he began to dwell on what he had lost.  That fish 
meat would have tasted good.  A curse on those monkeys!  Maybe with a 
little more time things might have been different.
	As Simba checked behind him to see if the monkeys were pursuing, 
he failed to notice the thinning trees around him.  He absently noticed 
the light level incresaing, but it failed to register until his front 
paws sank into soft grass instead of the spongy mat of leaves on the 
jungle floor.
	He turned his head to look and sucked in a deep breath of awe. 
"Oh!"
	Arrayed before him was an immense expanse of grassland, stretching 
out as far as he could see, the gentle fingers of the wind stirring the 
ground restlessly into a panorama of motion.  He paused for a moment, 
the stepped out tentatively into the open.
	Timon glanced at him apprehensively.  "Hey?  What're ya doin'?!"
	"This is beautiful!"
	Timon and Pumbaa felt naked and exposed without the canopy of 
trees.  "I have a bad feeling about this."  
	Simba had only good feelings.  The cloying scent of rotting 
vegetation, ever present in the jungle, was gone, whisked away by a 
clean wind that brought the earthy smell of grass and ground, an 
ambrosia of scents that made his nostrils twitch with excitement.  The 
last time he had breathed such scents, he had been but a child, the tall 
stalks of grass towering over his pudgy body as he waddled through the 
flora.  Now he stood upright, the tops of the plants brushing his 
shoulders as he surveyed the plain, and nothing wad hidden from him.  
The faint flash of a thunderstorm on the horizon winked at him from far 
to the southwest, and a small herd of zebra paced leisurely a few miles 
off, bobbing their heads and gossiping in their singsong voices.  He 
raised his head to look at the sky and grinned, settling down and 
rolling onto his back as he watched the clouds scud slowly by. "Oh 
yeah!"  He sighed.  "Come on, fellows!  It's OK.  It's great out here!"
	"No thanks.  We'll stay here and watch."
	"Jeez!  What is it with you two?"  Irritated, Simba started to 
rise.  Pushing himself up on his forepaws, he shifted, preparing to get 
up, when his ears flicked towards a sound from the grass behind him.  He 
turned, seeing the stalks rustling and waving, but not from the wind.  
What breeze there was shifted slightly, and his nose twitched as he 
caught the long forgotten but unmistakable scent of a lioness.  "Who's 
there??"  he said, frightened.
	"Hey, it's OK.  I'm not going to rush you."  Timon and Pumbaa 
quivered in the underbrush as a golden face appeared.  "My name is 
Sasha."
	Simba stared, entranced by the lovely visage.  "Pretty name."
	"Thanks."
	He smiled.  "Hey, it's been a long time since I've talked to 
another of my own kind."
	"Are you a rogue lion?"
	"Worse," he said broodingly.  "There's something natural about a 
rogue lion.  I'm--well--oh forget it."
	"You're lonely?  I can understand that."  She stepped from the 
grass, the entire length of a fully grown lioness revealing itself as 
she came to sit beside him.  "How long has it been?  A moon?  Two?"
	"Since I was three moons old."
	"My gods!"  She looked at him with wonder.  "How did you survive?"
	Simba gestured over at Timon and Pumbaa.  "I had help."
	"Them??"  Sasha smiled.  She looked back at Simba.  "You mean 
you've been without lion friends since you were three moons old?"
	"I've been without lion enemies too.  You're the first I've seen 
since my father...."  He looked down.
	She came to him and nuzzled him.  "You poor dear!"
	An embarrassed smile lit his face.  "I forgot how good lionesses 
smell.  But you look so small.  I used to look up at my mom."
	She laughed.  It was a merry sound that reminded him of Isha's 
wonderful chuckle, a sound that was as warm as a good hug.
	"Hey Simba!" Pumbaa shouted.  "Come back!"
	"It's all right."
	"No it's not!"
	"Don't be ridiculous, Pumbaa."
	"If you don't believe me, ask HIM!"
	"What?"  Simba patiently began to explain that it was a female who 
sat beside him when another scent reached out and slapped his senses.  
This one was utterly familiar, despite the intervening wall of years.  
He had smelled it when his father had rescued him and Nala from the 
hyenas clutches; the scent of a male lion full of rage and ready for 
battle.  Simba turned his head slowly to see the immense form part the 
grass.
	"Who are you talking to, Sasha?"  The amber eyes narrowed and 
regarded Simba coldly, mouth tightening into a flat line that gleamed at 
the edges where his incisors protruded.  "Listen you snotty-nosed brat.  
Run along before I have to sharpen my claws on you."
	"Wait, Jomo," Sasha said rapidly.  "It's all right--"
	Timon shouted, "What makes you think you can talk to us like 
that??  Why, Simba here will use you for a beanbag!"  
	The shine left the lion's eyes, leaving them flat and deadly.  "So 
it's Simba, is it??  Well, Simba, why don't you prove it!"  His tail 
stiffened slightly as his shoulders hunched, and he began to stalk 
slowly towards the terrified youngster.
	Sasha stood aside  fearfully as Simba gathered his legs under him 
in a crouch, creeping backwards towards the treeline.  "Hey, no need to 
get huffy, sir."  He looked back at the meerkat.  "Cool it, Timon!  
Hakuna Matata, remember?"
	The adult lion grinned humorlessly.  "You have a lot of worries if 
you ask me.  Or maybe just one big one.  Me."
	"We were just leaving."
	"I'd bet my next kill on it."  As he spoke, the lion flattened his 
ears and swept towards Simba in a deadly rush, fangs bared fully, the 
light gleaming off them in a promise of death.  Simba gave a roar of 
surprise and jerked away, scrabbling for purchase as he tried to turn 
and flee.  The monarch's paw whipped around and struck the young lion, 
his claws scoring crimson furrows in Simba's haunch.  Simba cried out in 
pain and fear, the lion's roars thundering in his ears as he sprinted 
away towards the safety of the jungle.  He glanced back and saw the lion 
still pursuing, the sight goading him to run even faster.
	Finally he stopped, unable to run any longer, his sides burning 
with pain as his breath whooped in and out in great tides of air. He 
turned slowly, expecting to see the great brute bearing down on him for 
the kill.
	Instead, he saw only empty jungle, a very relieved warthog, and an 
indignant meerkat who sat astride Pumbaa's head, glaring at him.
	Timon asked, "Why did you run away like that??  That dope was a 
softie; you coulda thrashed him easy!"
	Simba licked the bleeding claw marks on his injured haunch and 
wondered at that.  "Once a very wise lion told me he was only brave when 
he HAD to be.  You don't go asking for trouble."
	"Simba, I don't think you should go back there for awhile."
	The young lion grinned shakily at Pumbaa.  "Good idea."
	The rest of the afternoon passed blissfully uneventful, and the 
trio even managed to scare up enough insects that evening to go to bed 
relatively full.  But Simba lay awake long after the others had passed 
into sleep, his head on his paws as he thought about that beautiful sky 
above, and the wonderful feeling of space around him, unobstructed by 
vines and trees.  As his eyes began to close, he wondered idly what Nala 
was doing right now, and if she was as pretty as Sasha had been, her 
tawny face framed by the waving stalks of the grasslands.


CHAPTER 54: SIGN OF POWER

	Nearby, Timon lay enraptured in dreams of a different sort.
	"The rhinocerous beetle, my dear, IF you please."  Timon grinned, 
as he lay back, literally in the lap of luxury.  His head was pillowed 
on the legs of a meerkat female who sat cross legged, tickling the fur 
on the top of his head.  Giggling, she nodded, and picked the struggling 
insect from a pile of bugs that lay nearby, popping into his mouth 
delicately.  "There you go."
	He chewed, savoring the delightful crunch.  "Thanks, babe."
	"Of course."  She smiled at him, and he couldn't help but smile 
back, admiring the beautiful white fur that enveloped her whole body.  
"You're kinda cute, you know that?"
	"You too."  Bending over, she rubbed her nose against his, making 
him chuckle with laughter.  "You're really special, you know that?" 
	He blinked.  "What makes you say that?"
	"The way you and your friend took care of that lion cub."
	"Oh, Simba?"  Timon shrugged.  "Least we could do.  You know, when 
we first found him, he was almost dead.  We saved his life!"
	She nodded.  "I know.  that was very thoughtful of you."
	"We practically had to teach the kid everything; what to eat, 
where to sleep..."  Timon sighed.  "He's gettin kinda big now though."
	She remained silent, stroking his cheek quietly, waiting for him 
to continue.
	Finally, he did.  "He's gettin kinda big, all right."  Timon 
examined his hands uncomfortably.  "Pretty soon he's not gonna need us 
any more."
	She smiled and shook her head.  "Oh, I wouldn't say that."
	"Really?"
	"Oh, there's a few things that still have to be done."
	He looked at her strangely.  "Like what?"
	By way of answer, she leapt out from under him, sending his head 
to the ground with a dull thump.  "YEOWCH!"  He sat up rubbing his head, 
and was immediately flattened again as she tackled him, sending the two 
of them rolling through the grass until she finally pinned him to the 
ground with her weight, holding his shoulders tight with her hands.  
"You silly little fellow!"
	"Whaddya tryin ta do, kill me--" he trailed off, entranced by her 
beautiful eyes, gleaming silver-blue as they stared into his own.  
"Pretty eyes."
	"Everyone says that."  She chuckled, then looked at  him intently.  
"Your friend has reached a turning point in his life.  He needs someone 
to walk with him across the bridge.  Great things lie ahead for him, but 
there are forks in the path.  You must help guide him along the way."  
She reached down and played with the fur on his cheek, sending shivers 
down his spine.  "You'll do that for him, won't you?"
	"You betcha.  What do I have to do?"
	"First of all, he has grown his mane.  You need to give him his 
mantlement.  That's the leonine coming of age ceremony.  You'll pray for 
him, stroke his mane, and pronounce him an adult.  Then you will help 
him find his destiny.  In his case that will involve some risk for you."
	His focus on her wavered slightly.  "Risk??"
	She stroked him under his chin, riveting his attention on her 
again.  "But you will be very brave and won't let me down.  I know this 
for a fact."
	He looked at her spellbound.  "I will be very brave," he 
stammered.
	"You will help him."
	"I will help him."
	"I knew I could count on you."  She looked penetratingly into his 
eyes and drew very close.  He could feel her soft breath on his face, 
enveloping him in the smell of wild honey.  "Daima pendana," she 
whispered, kissing his cheek.
	Timon jerked awake, sitting up and rubbing his eyes in the first 
gray light of dawn.  Gingerly, he rubbed the back of his head and looked 
at where he had been lying, seeing the rock protruding from the gorund.
	"Stupid stone."  He rose, streching and yawning with exaggeration, 
feeling the stretch and pull of his muscles as he stood.  He was 
standing there, glancing about blearily, wondering where he might find a 
good bit of breakfast, when his eyes fell on Simba.  He stood still for 
a long moment, then pattered over to the lion and yanked on his 
whiskers.  "Up and at `em!"
	"WHAAAA!!"  Simba's eyes bulged and he jerked back, his claws 
splaying involuntarily.  "What the--"
	"C'mon!  Get up, ya bums!  It's daybreak already!  We ain't got 
much time."  Scampering over, Timon took a deep breath and nipped 
Pumbaa's tail lightly, waking the warthog with a shriek and sending HIM 
running into Simba.  Lion and warthog stood trembling at the tiny 
apparition which ranted at them.
	"C'mon!  We gotta get goin!"
	"Where, Timon?"
	"The waterfall, knucklehead!  It's the only place high enough!"
	"For WHAT?!"
	"Your mantlement, dummy!"
	"My wha--"  Simba froze.  "Gods, you're right."  He lowered his 
head.  "But I know so little about it; my dad only told me a little 
about the ceremony."
	Timon glared at him.  "Are you a lion?"
	"Yeah."
	"You got a mane?"
	"Well, yeah..."
	"We can fake the rest.  C'mon!"  He smacked Simba's rump and 
trotted off into the forest, grumbling.
	Some time later, the three stood on the rocks that overlooked the 
falls, feeling the cool morning breeze caress their faces, carrying with 
it a damp spray of droplets from the falls.  They sat silently, hearing 
the calling of the first birds in the clear air.  Timon figeted 
nervously and glanced at Pumbaa, who was clearly just as nervous as he 
was.  They glanced at Simba enviously; the lion sat quiescent, head 
bowed slightly and eyes closed.
	Simba felt a preternatural calm as he sat, hearing the dull roar 
of the falls below him and the tremors that traveled back up through the 
rock, vibrating in the pads of his feet.  Finally, he detected the first 
warm rays of light on his eyelids.  Opening them, he looked to Timon and 
nodded slightly.
	Timon cleared his throat, trembling with nervousness as he raised 
his voice.  "Uhh, ahem!  Let everybody that can hear me know that Simba 
is following his fathers."  He cringed, looking at Simba, who said 
nothing as he continued to look at the rising sun.  "Look, he bears the 
sign!"
	Silence reigned, and Pumbaa cleared his throat.  Timon closed his 
eyes and hoped fervently that this next bit might go okay; Pumbaa had 
insisted on giving the ritual prayer.  His eyes opened slowly as he 
heard the warthog's words.
	"I don't really know what to say to you, God.  But you're smart 
enough to figure out what I mean.  He was all alone in the desert, and 
we found him lying there, and jeez, if we hadn't found him, he would 
have died.  But we did, and I don't think it's an accident that we came 
along when we did.  You know?  I mean what are the chances of that?  
Well, anyway, he's got this fuzz on his neck, and for lions that's 
supposed to be a big deal and all.  It means our little cub is grown, 
and I guess what I'm trying to say is if he was my own son, I couldn't 
be any more proud of him than I am right now.  Thanks for giving us a 
shot at this.  I love him, and you make sure nothing bad happens to him, 
OK?"
	He looked up to see the two of them looking at him wonderingly.  
"Was that all right?"
	Simba nuzzled him.  "Beautiful.  You're a good friend, Pumbaa."
	Timon nudged him.  "It's time.  Go for it, kid."
	Simba nodded.  He took a deep breath and roared, the sound 
shattering the stillness as it echoed across the rocks and canyons.  The 
raucous sound of the birds below fighting for breakfast fell silent, and 
there was only the sound of the falling water.

CHAPTER 55:  SPOTTING THE LEOPARD

	Simba was walking restlessly along a well worn path through the 
jungle, his feet making no sound as they padded along the trail.  He 
paused, glancing down at the far end where it ended, the trees beginning 
to thin out at the limit of his vision.  A slight smile rose as he set 
about carefully marking the unseen boundary between the savannah and the 
forest.  Grouchy old booger, he thought.  Come in HERE and I'LL show you 
a thing or two.  He longed to trot down to the end of the path and roll 
under that delightful sky once again, but dared not; he was still not 
fully grown, and he was well aware of the difference between boldness 
and foolishness.
	As he turned to leave, the sharp crack of a tree limb above 
reached him, and he ducked sidewise, expecting to see the colorful 
splash of a rotten fruit strike near him.  Stupid monkeys, he thought 
irritably.  He was smart enough not to look straight up.  There had been 
times before when he had caught a ripe fruit right in the face.
	Instead of a fruit, however, an antelope fell out of the tree and 
plopped on the ground right in front of him.  As he stared, shocked, a 
voice floated down from above.
	"Damn!  Of all the times to drop something!"
	It was a female voice, a melodious catlike voice but not a 
lioness.  Moments later, a large leopardess came bounding down the trunk 
with the intensity of a vertical run.  She pounced on the antelope and 
said, "Mine!  Buzz off!"
	Taken aback, Simba looked up in the tree and back at her.  "You 
got that all the way up there?"
	The leopardess glared at him.  "What of it?"
	"Well, I just thought...."  He looked at her and at the antelope.  
"Did you have help?"
	She half smiled.  "No.  I did it by myself.  Haven't you ever seen 
a leopard do that before?"
	"I've never seen a leopard before."  He looked at her 
appraisingly.  "Those spots are so--so neat!"
	She purred.  "I've seen you here before, and I've always wanted to 
ask.  How did a lion like you get in a forest like this?"
	"Long story," Simba said with a shrug.
	"You hang out with those two?"
	Simba knew immmediatley whom she was referring to.  "Well, uh, 
yeah.  What of it?"
	"Oh nothing.  I just thought I've never seen you with another lion 
before.  But there are a lot of strange things in this forest.  Like 
that pair of hyenas."
	"Gur'bruk and Kambra?"
	"You know them?  They healed my shoulder once."
	"What do you know!  They saved my life once."
	"Small world, isn't it?"  With a quick snatch of her powerful 
jaws, the antelope was on its way up the tree.  In five or six bounds of 
her powerful legs, the prey was cached away in the branches.
	"Whoa!  I'd give anything to know how to do that!"
	She came bounding down again.  It was always disconcerting to 
Simba when she did that.
	"Let me get this straight.  You're grown and you don't know how to 
hunt?"
	"Yeah."  Simba looked away.
	"Didn't your mother teach you anything?"
	Simba looked at the ground.  His ears and tail drooped.  "She 
didn't get a chance.  My dad gave me a few pouncing lessons."
	"And?"
	"He died when I was very little."
	"I'm sorry.  So have you scavenged all this time?"
	"No, ma'am.  I've eaten bugs."
	"Bugs??"  
	"These guys helped me.  I don't know what I would have done 
without them."
	It brought out some of the motherly feelings in her.  The corners 
of her mouth twitched.  "I lost a cub once.  I had a lot of things I 
wanted to tell her, and they've been bottled up inside me.  Look, if you 
wait till I chow down, I'll give you a couple of lessons, OK?"
	"Neat!"


CHAPTER 56:  CATS LIKE US

	The leopardess had a leisurely meal in the tree.  She did not 
offer to share her meal, and she was not asked.  Timon and Pumbaa 
watched her pull off strips of the fresh meat and mince them with a look 
of pleasure before swallowing.  Timon stared at her hungrily, running 
the tip of his tongue slowly around his lips.  "Look at that, Pumbaa!  
That's how real people live."
	Pumbaa said nothing, but his stomach complained periodically.  
Simba was quite content to watch her.  Part of his missing heritage 
would be given him, and he awaited the wonderful secrets she would 
impart with open-mouthed wonder.  "Imagine, me a hunter!  A hunter like 
my mother before me!"
	Pride began to swell in his chest, and he hadn't even tried his 
luck at it yet.
	Finally as the sun was getting low in the sky, she nosed the 
carcass and it fell out of the branches.  Stretching in her precarious 
perch, she yawned, shook herself, and ambled down the tree.  "You 
ready?"
	"Yes ma'am!"
	"Lose the `yes ma'am.'  My name's Mikosi."
	"I'm Simba."
	"Glad to meet you at last."  She nuzzled him.
	"I'm Timon, if anyone cares.  This is my friend Pumbaa."
	Without even glancing in their direction, Mikosi continued.  "If 
you're going to learn from me, you must do what my cub would have done.  
Speak when spoken to, and then very softly.  Every word we say is an 
enemy, seeking to betray us.  Do you agree to this?"
	Simba nodded quietly.
	"You learn fast, I'll grant you."
	For nearly two hours, she gave him lessons on stalking, running 
after prey, and staying downwind.  Timon and Pumbaa watched with 
horrified fascination at the list of killing tactics, especially when 
she used them as examples in laying out an approach.
	Then when the moon disappeared behind a cloud and the forest was 
cloaked in inky darkness, she said, "Let's do it!"
	He did exactly what she told him to do.  And to his absolute 
amazement and hers he brought down a small antelope on his very first 
try!
	"Maybe it's beginner's luck.  But you earned this."
	Mikosi dipped her paw in the blood and made a pawprint on his 
cheek.  "Somewhere out there your parents are proud of you."
	Before Simba could eat, she dragged the carcass up a nearby tree!
	"Hey!  Bring that back down here!  I didn't even get a bite!"
	"This is my payment for showing you where to hunt, big boy," she 
teased, chewing contentedly.  "Next lesson: guard your prey from jealous 
eyes.  That's why I climb trees."
	"But that's my first!  I want to know what it tastes like!"
	"I'll describe it to you."
	"We could share."
	"We certainly could.  But what would be the fun in that?"
	"It would be nice and friendly."
	Simba extended his claws and began to shinny up the rough-barked 
tree with absolute determination in his eyes.
	She stopped chewing, her claws flicking out as she hugged the limb 
for balance.  "W-What are you DOING?!"
	He flailed clumsily, trying to ascend and keep his own balance.  
"I'm going to join you for dinner, hon."
	"STOP!"  The tree, not that big to begin with, began to sway 
drunkenly.  "You're too big, imbecile!"
	"Well I'm getting smaller by the minute.  I'm hungry."
	CRAAACK!!!!
	Splinters shot up in a spray and sap spewed into the air in 
haphazard patterns as the tree surrendered, shredding at its lower end 
to come tumbling down with a crash.  As it neared the ground, the end of 
the tree snapped clear of the stump, pistoning out and jarring the cats, 
sending them flying clear.  The gazelle was not so lucky; Mikosi had 
wedged it into a fork of the tree to keep it from falling, and she did 
her job well; it remained there all the way to the ground, where it was 
obliterated by the smashing weight of the trunk.
	Mikosi shook her head blearily, staring at Simba as he staggered 
to his feet.  "You're crazy!"
	"Well look.  I don't mind hunting with you if you play fair, OK?  
Let's set down some rules here and now.  Those that work, eat."
	She looked into his angry eyes, expecting the worst.  He went over 
to the fallen tree, pulling what remained of the carcass out and 
starting to eat as she watched hungrily.  The sensation of eating meat 
stirred him, and he remembered old feelings and old friends from long 
ago.  A shudder of deep emotion went through him.  He'd finished more 
than half of it, but then he backed back a little.  "Won't you join me, 
Mikosi?"
	"Really?"
	"Yeah.  When I say something, I mean it."
	She came up tentatively beside him, snatching a quick bite and 
chewing, relaxing when he ignored her and started to eat again.  
"Friends?"
	"Friends."
	She kissed his cheek.  "You're rather special, you know that?"
	Abruptly a low growl issued from the trees behind them.  They 
turned to see another leopard descending, his flat yellow glare fixed on 
Mikosi. "Gods, this is SICK!  You'll go with ANYTHING!  I thought you 
were just having an affair, but my gods, this is SICK!"
	"He's just a friend!  He'd never been around his own kind, and I 
thought I'd show him how to--well--you know!"
	The male leopard moaned.  "That's what I was afraid of!"  She 
tried to explain, but he would hear none of it.  He told Simba, "Get 
out, you home wrecker!  Out, out out!!!!"  
	"I just trying to satisfy my appetite."
	"Oh gods!  I don't want to hear the sordid details!  Take your 
`appetite' as you call it and GET OUT!!!"
	As Simba padded away slowly, he couldn't help but hear the heated 
argument behind him as the leopard berated Mikosi.  "Tell me he didn't!  
Tell me you didn't!"
	"You jealous fool," she hissed.  "What if we did!  You think you 
can come waltzing into my life every few months and tell me how to run 
my affairs??"
	In fury, he bellowed, "DID YOU??"
	"NO!" Simba shouted.  "Absolutely not!  No way!  Forget it kid!  
I'm out of here!"
	"I thought you were very special!" she called after Simba.
	"Special??"  The leopard ran and blocked Simba's escape.  "Hey 
Fire Flanks, you want her, you fight for her!  Come on, lion!  I'll 
fight you to the death!"
	"But I don't want to fight you!"
	"Are you saying she's not worth it!  You made it with my wife, 
then you leave her flat??  I'd kill you for that, or die trying!"
	"Look," Simba said.  "It's really you she loves.  I mean hey, she 
cried out your name by mistake.  It's a real turn-off when someone yells 
`Oh Oswego' in a moment of passion."
	The leopard's hackles raised and he began to tremble with 
unstoppable rage.  Just as Timon and Pumbaa were wishing they were on 
another continent, the leopard shrilly screamed, "I'M NOT OSWEGO!!  MY 
NAME IS HAMBA!!"
	He pushed past Simba and barreled after the leopardess at top 
speed.  When all was still, and the trio had gone safely into the 
forest, Timon said, "Yesss!!" and high-fived Simba.  "Gods, what an 
inspiration!!"


CHAPTER 57:  TO SLEEP, PERCHANCE TO DREAM

	Simba listened enraptured to the soft voice of the leopardess.  
"You are special," she purred alluringly.  "Friends?"
	"Friends."
	"You can't have him," a lioness voice said from the bushes.  "He 
doesn't belong in the trees like a leopard.  He belongs in the open with 
me."  It was Sasha.
	The lioness twitched her head for him to follow.  He left the 
leopardess behind and followed her.  
	Soon he found himself back in the open savanna where his heart 
belonged.  Sasha came to him and nuzzled him slowly and gently, pawing 
his face and then slinking softly down his full length.  "Isn't this 
better?"
	"Much."
	"Jomo is not around.  We have this to ourselves."
	A smile warmed the corners of her shapely mouth and her eyes half 
closed.  She rolled on her back in the rich grass, taking in a deep 
breath and letting it slowly out.  "Simba."
	He smiled, drifting alongside her warm body and lowering his bulk 
with such grace that the grass whispered in answer.  He looked over into 
her soft hazel eyes and rolled on his back, snuggled against her 
graceful body.  A feeling of peace and contentment swept over him like a 
calm wind, blowing his worries and doubts away and leaving only the 
essence of his wondering soul.
	As they lay next to each other, she reached over with an 
adventurous paw and began to explore his soft mane and feel his 
heartbeat.  Simba grunted his approval, his eyes half closed in 
satisfaction.  "Oh yes, you know what I like."
	"I know what you like," she said mischievously, and she began to 
widen her explorations.
	His eyes opened wide.  "Hey!"
	She gazed at him longingly.  "It's what you want, isn't it?"
	"Well, I...."
	She licked his face slowly and passionately.  "You can't hide it 
from me.  It's been on your mind since we met."
	"Well, I...."
	"It's all right, honey tree.  Really it is.  It's what I want 
too."  She reached over with a paw again, starting at his chest and 
slowly, steadily setting him on fire.  "Make love to me, Simba."
	"OK.  But it's going to be my first time."  He rolled over and got 
to his feet.  "Do you still want me?"
	She looked up at him and smiled.  "Yes."  She rolled over smoothly 
into a crouch.  "Don't be afraid.  You're so timid, just like a little 
cub."  She licked out the end of her tongue in a kiss.  "I think you're 
kind of cute."
	Suddenly, Jomo came running toward them.  "Get away!  Get away 
from her!"
	The two squared off, and Simba flailed at him, claws out.  Jomo 
was bold, but to the point of overconfidence.  He did not expect a firm 
defense, and Simba struck at him, catching him on the side of the face.
	Stunned, Jomo fell back, and Simba rained blow after blow on him 
almost unopposed.
	Soon Simba prevailed.  He saw the vanquished foe at his feet, but 
rather than beg for mercy, the lion said, "Everything I had is yours.  
But before you make love to her, why don't you tell her I'm the second 
lion you killed.  Your own father's blood is on your paws!"
	Simba looked at him and realized it was his Uncle Scar.  
	"No!"  Simba backed up.  "I didn't kill him!" he stammered.  "I 
swear I didn't!  It was an accident!"
	Taka glared at him as he lay mortally wounded, his life draining 
away with each beat of his heart.  "It's all your fault!  If you hadn't 
messed up, he'd still be alive.  Go away and never come back!"
	"It's NOT my fault!  It's NOT!"
	Simba sruggled awake, striking out at the bare air in his efforts 
to escape the nightmare.  Breathing rapidly, his heart pounding, he sat 
in the still heat of the jungle, the humid air stifling him and making 
each breath an effort.  At last his heat slowed, and he reclined back 
onto the leaves, his fur soaked in sweat.  His eyes flicked up to the 
dark canopy of leaves overhead, and for the first time in months, he 
wept bitterly, the tears falling silent onto the forest loam.

CHAPTER 58:  PIPKAH THE GREAT

	Uzuri heard that Pipkah's latest fiasco was supposedly due to 
errors by the lionesses, for the manoever was a flawless one taught him 
by "my dear friend Uzuri."  Pipkah had been playing that association to 
the hilt lately, and Uzuri was determined that at her own time and in 
her own way she would set the record straight.
	Pipkah enjoyed the cool, clear waters of the cistern behind Pride 
Rock.  He came alone, which suited Uzuri just fine.
	Pipkah drank deeply, then let out a satisfying belch.  Ah, life at 
Pride Rock was good, even if there was not as much food as there used to 
be.  As one of Shenzi's trusted ones, he always ate well if nearly 
everyone else did without.
	"It's me," Uzuri said, stepping out of the shadows.
	"Uzuri!"  Pipkah stepped back a pace or two, not certain how much 
she'd heard or how she would react.
	"My Pipkah," she said softly, nuzzling him.  "You know I'm in my 
season.  Taka is content with Elanna, and where does that leave me?"
	"Very disappointed?"
	"Not really.  Not as alone as you might think."  She rubbed along 
him full length.  "It will be awkward at first, but you will adjust with 
a little help from me."
	Pipkah stepped back again.  "Adjust what?"
	Uzuri let out a protracted purr, her eyes half closed.  "A hunter 
like me and a hunter like you.  When I heard about your legendary skill, 
that was it.  I was lost.  Make love to me, Pipkah!"
	"Oh gods...."  Pipkah swallowed hard.  "I'm not really that good!  
I brag a lot.  Some of it is a downright lie!"
	"So modest and shy!  I think that's SUCH a turn-on!  Just think-
we'll have three days of non-stop passion."
	"Three days??"
	He started to leave, but she stepped in his path rather suddenly.  
"Make love to me, Pipkah!  Set me on fire!"
	"But I...."  He scrambled on top of a small rock.  She looked up 
at him and easily bounded up with him, her body crowded next to his on 
the small platform. 
	"But what about-uh-Shimbekh!  Yeah, Shimbekh!"
	"I'll have a talk with her."
	"No, don't do that!"
	"She deserves to know what we share between us!  She is a good 
girl, and needs to find another male."  She looked him over 
appraisingly.  "Those are the cutest ears, and that smile is so warm and 
sexy."
	"Uh, thanks, I think."
	"And check out that fanny!"  She reached back with a paw and 
tickled him.
	"Whoa!!!  My gods!!!"  He jumped from the rock, shivering.  
"Madam, PLEASE!"
	"You don't have to beg me!"  She jumped down, then walked in front 
of him and crouched down, looking over her back.  "Come on, lover!  Give 
it your best shot.  We'll work on it till we get it right."
	Ber padded around the corner and froze.  "Oops!"
	"Ber!  Hey, old buddy!"
	"Pipkah-I hope I'm not interrupting anything...."
	"Oh, not at all!  This is NOT what it looks like!"
	Panting and moving her lips in a pout, Uzuri stared at Pipkah.  
"I'm waiting, honey pot."
	"I can come back later," Ber said.
	"Come back in about three days," Uzuri said shortly.  "We're 
otherwise occupied."
	"You said it, sister!  But don't worry-I won't tell a WORD to the 
others.  Your secret is safe with me."  Ber laughed wickedly.  "But of 
course we ALL know how you feel about each other."  He started to go.
	"Don't leave me here!" Pipkah cried.  "I mean, there's no rush, 
old friend.  I have to get to guard duty.  You keep Uzuri company for 
me."
	"I took on your guard duty, remember?"
	"But you've been two days without a furlough.  I don't think 
that's morally RIGHT, Ber!"
	"Hmmm.  The only way you could relieve me if you wanted to would 
be to take the next eight days."
	"EIGHT DAYS??"
	"But hey, I got you covered.  You'll have NO INTERRUPTIONS.  Kiss 
kiss!"
	"OK, eight days it is!"  Pipkah looked at Uzuri.  "Sorry to 
disappoint you, but I have work to do.  Maybe in eight days, if you're 
still interested, we can have a red-hot honeymoon under the acacias."
	He ran away very quickly.
	Uzuri laughed.  "Ok, Ber, you remember our agreement?  I got you 
eight days of leisure."
	"And you sneak away for three days to see your husband that I'm 
not aware exists.  If anyone asks me where you are, you're sick and I 
saw you retching up breakfast."  He smiled coyly and added, "Behave 
yourself, my dear!  Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
	She smiled back.  "Honey tree, I'm about to do EVERYTHING you 
wouldn't do!"


CHAPTER 59:  FACING FACTS

	Ef a man is what he isn't, den he isn't what he am,
	And as sure as I'm a-talkin' he isn't worth a damn!
	Doan't ye be what you ain't, jes' you be what you is.
	Ef a man is what he isn't, den he isn't what he is;
	And as sure as I'm a-talkin', he's a-gwyne to git his!

                                       -- EDWIN MILTON ROYLE

	Simba was disturbed by some of the feelings his young adulthood 
gave him.  Hakuna matata was stretching thin.  He wanted a mate, he 
wanted meat, he wanted a territory, he wanted absolution.  In short, he 
felt trapped, with little hope of ever achieving any of the success 
predicted by Gur'bruk and Kambra.
	Sefu the secretary bird was unconventional, but his advice when 
given was not taken lightly.  And it was to Sefu that he looked for 
help.
	Of course, Sefu was not easily found.  Unlike his old friends on 
Pride Rock, there was no way of knowing when and were the Secretary Bird 
would show up.  Despondent, Simba paused one morning while Timon and 
Pumbaa continued on to the water hole to get a drink and bowed his head.
	"Please, Aiheu, help me!  I may not pray every night like I 
should, and I may be just a fugitive, but Mom said you were merciful.  
Please give me a second chance, God.  Please show me the way--I'm so 
lost!"
	Just when Simba was about to lose his faith in the power of 
prayer, Sefu surprised them at the watering hole.
	"Sefu!  I'm so glad to see you!"
	"Hey, cat!  Likewise!"
	While Pumbaa wallowed in the shallows and Timon gargled noisily as 
he drank, Simba managed to corner Sefu for a moment and try to put into 
words what was only a feeling of emptiness, a dread of dying alone and 
forgotten, a creeping despair that eroded him like fungi on a fallen 
log.
	"Hey, been there, done that."  Sefu looked at him appraisingly.  
"Some of us little folks can fit into a little hole somewhere and hide 
ourselves from the world.  Some of us can't."
	"Yeah."
	"I heard through the grapevine that you tried to take meat from 
the local tribesmen.  I guess you found out they have a lot of sense for 
creatures without fur or feathers."
	Simba uttered a short laugh.  "No darned kidding."
	"Well they have this custom of making shapes of geese out of pitch 
covered straw.  From a distance, they look real.  They are set out in 
the lake and when the real geese see them, they think its safe and 
light.  Then they get whacked."
	"Is there a moral to this story?"
	"No!" Sefu said.  "I just wanted you to know that you're an 
impostor.  You're not a jungle bum.  Hakuna matata does not fit you.  
You were meant to be marsh grass, and no matter how much they weave you 
or tar you, you can't be a goose unless you were born a goose.  Fish 
gotta swim, birds gotta fly--well, at least most of them do--and lions 
gotta roar.  You don't belong here.  You'll NEVER belong here.  You 
belong out there, free and unencumbered.  As free as the wind blows.  As 
free as the grass grows.  Born free to follow your heart."  He threw 
back his wing, held up his head and burst out with "BORN FREE!  AS FREE 
AS THE WIND BLOWS...."  
	Timon grabbed his beak shut.  "Please, don't sing it!"  He turned 
back to Simba.  "Listen, kid!  It does no good bringing up a lot of 
false hopes and stirring up a lot of pain.  Hakuna matata is the only 
way.  You gotta be like Pumbaa here--he's got it all figured out."
	But Pumbaa was looking at Sefu and Simba wistfully.  He was 
anything but sure about Timon's logic.  He felt sorry for Simba.
	"I was afraid this would happen someday," Pumbaa said.  "But when 
the time comes, I'll let go.  Simba, we're all born into this world with 
a destiny.  Some of us might have it easier than others, but you can't 
escape your destiny."
	"What is my destiny?" Simba asked.
	"That is something that you must figure out for yourself, my son.  
That's between you and God.  And whatever it is, I'll be there to help 
you fulfill it."
	Timon looked at Pumbaa disbelievingly.  But the warthog had a look 
of wisdom and nobility shining in his eyes that stunned him.  He could 
not find the nerve to contradict him, and looked away, sighing.  "Yeah, 
IF."


CHAPTER 60:  THE LEAP OF FAITH

	Makhpil was quick to join the Omlakhs.  She was filled with love 
and idealism, and she expected even more from her God.  Even before she 
saw chinks in the psychic armor of Melmokh, she knew that he was a 
pretender and evil.
	But her suspicions were confirmed in a very real and frightening 
way.  She had never spoken with Gur'mekh, but through her contacts with 
Shimbekh and Brin'bi she understood at a gut level the possibilities of 
her powers.  And in what was to settle her doubts forever, she lay on 
the ground and covered her eyes with her paws.  "Thou in me and I in 
thee.  Come together let us be!"  She repeated the mantra over and over, 
feeling in her heart the closeness of the one who claimed to be God.  
That she might not survive was not important.  One way or the other she 
must know.
	"Thou in me and I in thee.  Come together let us be!"
	She rolled over on her back, her breath coming and going in short 
gasps.  Reaching out with a paw, she touched the spirit of Melmokh.
	A wave of revulsion filled her as she felt a sensation akin to 
swallowing a mouthful of spiderwebs.  Fighting the urge to vomit, she 
pulled back hastily, breaking contact and opening her eyes wide in a 
shriek of horror.  The next several breaths she drew in escaped as cries 
of pain and despair.  "Oh my God!  It's evil!  It's evil!"
	She got up and ran around in tight little circles as if chasing 
her tail, the hackles raised along her back.  "Help us, Roh'kash!  Help 
us!  Great Mother, we're all being led to Hell!  Save us, God!"
	The false Roh'kash jumped up with a start.  "Who dared!  Who dared 
touch me!!"
	The followers were all at a distance and looked around at each 
other.  "Great Mother, no one touched you!"
	"Not with a paw, stupid!"  Melmokh shot a glance at the hapless 
hyena and he jumped, yelping in pain.  The others fell on the ground 
rolling over and reaching out with a paw.  "Mercy, Great Mother!  
Mercy!"
	With a look of ultimate rage, his hackles raised, Melmokh ran out 
of the circle and began running around the elephant graveyard looking 
for the source of the pain.  But it was too late--Makhpil had released 
her without betraying her own thoughts.
	Makhpil ran to Ber and fell before him.  "Okhim Ber," she gasped, 
"I've seen the devil himself!  I'll do anything to help you, anything!"
	Ber nuzzled her and rubbed her face with his paw.  "Blessed 
bak'ret, daughter of Roh'kash, may the true God reward your faith!"
	She knew that the Roh'kash was false.  She could not hide that 
from Shimbekh, who had her own doubts, but could not be sure.
	It was Shimbekh that Melmokh suspected, and so as Roh'kash, he 
persuaded Roh'mach Shenzi to order Shimbekh to give false prophesy.  If 
she refused, she would be killed.  If she did not refuse, she would be 
psychically blind.  Either way, Melmokh would preserve his dark heart 
from the sight of the others.
	Meekly, Shimbekh considered the life of her new daughter and put 
Makhpil's welfare before her own.  And she lied to Taka about his chosen 
heir, even as she was commanded.
	Cut off from her spirit husband and unable to reach her daughter's 
heart except through talking, she sank into a deep depression.  It was a 
frightening kind of aloneness.  From time to time she would beg Makhpil 
to take messages to Brin'bi as if he lived in a different land far, far 
away.  When Makhpil explained to her mother who the false Roh'kash was, 
she bit her own leg till the blood ran down.  "So it wasn't Gur'mekh who 
led to our downfall.  It was me!  Oh gods, it was me!  I could have 
stopped this!"
	Shimbekh began to grow gaunt and ill kept, looking as she did 
after the vision of Gur'mekh.  Makhpil had to beg her to eat--each bite 
was a concession to Shimbekh's love for her daughter, for she did not 
want to go on living.
	Then one day Makhpil prophesied that joy awaited Shimbekh at the 
gorge.  It was the hope that she was looking for.
	Shimbekh told Makhpil that as the one remaining seer she had to 
take care of herself and keep prophesy alive among the people if they 
were ever to survive.  Determined to repair what she had done, she went 
to Uzuri and confessed her full load of guilt.  Uzuri was not 
psychically gifted, but she could see the sincerity in her eyes and took 
the message to heart.  It awakened hope in her spirit.
	Shimbekh then went to the gorge.  "Great Mother, I have sinned.  I 
have tried to out guess your will and it will not be through me that the 
suffering will end.  But have mercy on me.  I have confessed my guilt, 
and I only ask for my husband back.  Please?"
	Then looking off the edge, standing far out on a cloud, she saw 
her husband.  She was so overwhelmed that she almost lost her footing.
	"It's time for us to be together," he said.  He sensed the rage of 
Melmokh at the edge of his awareness, and saw the assassins the false 
Roh'kash had dispatched to rid himself of Shimbekh.  Brin'bi shook his 
head sorrowfully.  He looked at Shimbekh and forced a smile for her 
sake.  "Our time is soon, love."
	"Our time is now."  Without removing her gaze from his, Shimbekh 
backed up and launched herself into the open space of the gorge.  
Without a sound she plummeted, caroming off the rock wall and beginning 
to tumble through the air.  She closed her eyes, not feeling the pain as 
her body was terribly abused by the unforgiving walls of the gorge.  
Brin'bi stood there in her mind, a look of surprise on his face as he 
saw her descend.  Her eyes opened and she saw trhe ground rushing up at 
her with terrible finality.
	"Brin'bi," she murmured, and was silenced forever.
	Makhpil was expected to be saddened by the death of her mother.  
Instead Makhpil seemed to grow in beauty and spirit, showing signs of 
joy and optimism for the future.  Only Amarakh knew that her life had 
changed for the better, for now her mother and father were together 
again, inseparable, and the three of them went on with their life with 
very little change.

CHAPTER 61:  THE MEETING

	"SHE'S GONNA EAT MEEE!!"
	Simba's ears twitched violently at the sound of the scream behind 
him.  "Oh gods!"  Turning about, he began to sprint, praying with all 
his heart he would arrive in time.  As he neared, he heard the distinct 
snarl of a lioness closing in for the kill, and the sound was familiar 
indeed.  His eyes narrowed as he rounded a corner and saw Pumbaa wedged 
under a tree root, scrabbling desperately for release.
	That damned Sasha lied to me, he thought.  Well, we'll see who 
gets thrown out of whose territory NOW!
	A terrible snarl erupted from him as he leapt over the root, 
floating through the air in a graceful leap.  He descended rapidly, 
crashing down with terrifying force in front of the lioness as she slid 
to a stop, a look of total surprise on her face.  Simba lashed out, 
snarling, noting that this was not Sasha after all, but another lioness, 
much younger, in fact.  No matter.
	Timon leapt with joy as Simba joined battle with a fury that shook 
the earth.  "Get her!  Bite her head!"  He capered atop Pumbaa's rump 
gleefully as the two titans thrashed about, paws whipping throught the 
air in an awesome display of chained fury.
	The lioness backed back, claws whipping around in an effort to 
lash his face, but his mane deflected the blows as he closed in.  
Gathering himself, Simba launched himself at her, jaws spreading as he 
prepared to seize her throat--
	--and then he gave a startled "WHUFF!" of surprise as her feet 
sank into his belly, knocking the wind from him.  The world spun 
crazily, and he found himself lying on his back, the lioness pinning him 
to the ground, her hot breath billowing in his face as she bared her 
fangs at his throat.  Stricken, sure he would be dead in a few more 
seconds, he looked up to meet her gaze...and saw the brilliant green 
eyes staring into his.
	He had seen those eyes in a thousand dreams.  "Nala?!"
	The snarling grimace of the lioness vanished, her face 
transforming from awesome rage into awesome beauty.  Her jaw dropped and 
she backed away, crowding into  a tree trunk and staring at the stranger 
before her.  "Is it really you?"
	She gazed at him suspiciously.  Was it possible that Taka would 
send someone to follow her?  Nonsense.  A male such as this he would 
have killed outright, or at least driven off.  "Who are you?"
	"It's me!  Simba."
	"Simba?"  The name rolled oddly off her tongue as she looked at 
him.  Funny, she had known a cub by the same name when she was a 
child...her eyes widened as she looked into his face and SAW him, oh 
gods, he was ALIVE!
	"WHOAAAAW!  A simeltaneous explosion of joy erupted from the two 
as they rubbed heads together in greeting, filling the air with a 
cacophony of confused questions.
	"But how did you--"
	"It's GREAT to see you!"
	"It's good to see YOU!"
	"I thought you were--"
	"HEY!  WHAT'S GOIN' ON HERE?!"
	Simba grinned and introduced his companions to Nala, chuckling at 
Timon's utter confusion.  His mirth was short lived, as Nala looked at 
him, her face serious.
	"Wait till everyone finds out you've been HERE all this time!  And 
your mother...what will she think?"
	Simba felt a mad rush of panic that nearly overwhelmed him.  "She 
doesn't have to know.  Nobody has to know."
	"Of course they do!  Everyone thinks you're dead!"
	He looked at her, shocked.  "They do?"
	"Yeah."  She lowered her gaze sadly.  "Scar told us about the 
stampede."  She glanced up tentatively, afraid to meet his gaze.
	Simba was awash with cold fear.  "He did?  What else did he tell 
you?"
	"What else matters?!  You're alive!  And that means..." she looked 
at him, a new look of awe on her face mixed with newborn hope.  "You're 
the king."
	Simba froze into immobile stillness.  He watched numbly as Timon 
and Pumbaa transformed before his eyes, looking at him like some new 
kind of insect they'd never seen before.  Before Timon could embroil 
himself into an argument with Nala, he sighed deeply.  "Maybe you'd 
better go."
	Timon gaped.  "It starts.  You THINK you know a guy..."
	Simba watched them leave, then grinned shamefacedly at Nala.  
"Timon and Pumbaa.  You learn to love `em."  He fell silent as he saw 
Nala with her back to him, looking as if she might begin weeping at any 
moment.  He went to her and leaned against her shoulder comfortingly.  
"What?  What is it?"
	"It's like you're back form the dead," she said quietly.  "You 
don't know what this will mean to everyone.  What it means to me--" Her 
voice threatened to betray her, and she silenced herself as years of 
dreams and hopes, things she had long forgotten and buried away in her 
mind now clamored for attention.  She remebered playing with him long 
ago, cub games in the sweet grass fields of the Pride Lands where time 
stood still.
	Simba nuzzled her tentatively.  "Hey.  It's okay."
	Shaking with the years of memories that threatened to burst forth, 
she buried her head in his mane, rubbing her cheek firmly against him.  
"I've really missed you."

CHAPTER 62: CAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE TONIGHT?

	The water cascaded over the edge of the rocks, rolling smoothly 
into the deep pool at the foot of the falls, the frothy spume spraying 
into the air and wetting the coats of the two lions who picked their way 
along the rocks.
	Simba followed Nala across the natural bridge, pausing to shake 
the cool droplets from his coat, making a miniature rainbow in the air 
as he dried himself.  He joined her at a still pool where she was 
bending to take a drink.  He was not the least bit thirsty, but at a 
loss as what else to do, he leaned over the water and took a couple of 
swallows, his eyes on the lioness across from him.  He was unable to 
believe his friend had found him again!  He had missed his family 
dearly, but there was something special about Nala...
	She glanced up and caught him staring at her, and he stopped 
drinking, raising his head in alarm and embarrassment.  But she merely 
smiled at him and bent to the pool again.  "She doesn't know," he 
thought.  "Else she wouldn't smile at me like that.  Oh gods, what am I 
going to tell her?"  He looked away from her, the shame dousing the joy 
he had felt.
	Nala lapped at the cold water daintily, enjoying the liquid as she 
soothed her parched throat.  The trip across the desert had been 
exhausting, and after that high speed pursuit of Pumbaa that had nearly 
ended in disaster, she was fairly desperate for a drink.  Curious that 
her friend had taken up with a warthog, of all creatures.  What Simba 
saw in that-
	She glanced up at her friend and stopped in mid-drink, shocked at 
the look of absolute sadness in his features.  Worried, she lifted her 
head, intending to ask him what was wrong, but Simba saw her glance up 
and immediately brightened, the mask of despair vanishing as if it had 
never been.  He stepped to the edge of the pool, then tensed his 
haunches and leapt gracefully over to her side, smiling enigmatically as 
he passed.  Nala turned to look at him, thoroughly confused.  What in 
the world was he up to now-
	Her eyes widened in surprise as he ran past, a vine clutched tight 
in his jaws, soaring out over the pool to land in its center with a 
terrific splash.  She watched, at first amused, then alarmed as the 
ripples of his landing disappeared and he still showed no sign of 
surfacing.  She padded to the edge and looked about anxiously, looking 
for any sign of him.
	The water in front of her erupted, spraying her thoroughly as 
Simba rose and clasped her around the shoulders in a hug.  She started 
to smile and ask him if this was his way of saying hello when she felt 
her balance shift alarmingly.
	"Oh gods," she thought.  "He's not doing what I think he is-"
	But he was indeed.  Simba's weight pulled her forward and down 
into the icy water with a tremendous splash.  The lion surfaced, a grin 
on his face as he watched Nala scramble from the water, gasping, and 
huddle in a wet crouch, her teeth chattering.  She made no move to 
rejoin him, and his smile wilted a little as he realized he might have 
stepped over the line.  He pulled himself from the water, the cool 
liquid running from his mane in small streams as he went to her, a 
concerned look on his features.    
	Nala waited until he was next to her, then with a wry grin she 
shoved him playfully back into the water.  "Gotcha!"  she thought, 
laughing delightedly.  She shook herself, then trotted away as Simba 
climbed from the water again, a grin on his face.  Another laugh escaped 
her as she dodged among the trees, her friend in full pursuit of her and 
bent on revenge.  She twisted agilely through a dense thicket, chuckling 
as she heard Simba smash through the debris.
	"Clumsy!"  she yelled at him.
	"Oh, yeah?!"  He grinned and put on a burst of speed as they 
entered a lush meadow, the late afternoon sun glinting through the trees 
as he drew nearer.  She plunged into the undergrowth on the far side of 
the clearing and turned to face him, rising on her rear legs and pawing 
at him playfully.  He laughed, rearing up to meet her and throwing his 
forepaws around her shoulders, his extra weight overbalancing them both 
and sending them tumbling down the hillside to slide to a stop at the 
bottom.
	Nala giggled up at him, and he responded by bursting into 
laughter, the sound sweet and joyous to her ears.  He had seemed so sad, 
back at the pond, but all her worries dissipated as she looked up at his 
contented face.  She felt a warm rush of feeling, looking at his 
features, slightly amazed at how handsome he had become.  The rough and 
tumble cub she had played with as a child had burst forth with a 
beautifully flowing mane, and his body, while lean in some places, was 
fully formed and muscular.  Yet his face still held that wonderful, 
innocent look she knew well from their cubhood.  His body was warm 
against hers, and the comforting pressure of his weight resting on her 
sent tingles up and down her spine.
	Nala reached up with a forepaw, draping it over the back of his 
neck.  Pulling him to her, she bent forward and kissed his cheek, a 
long, passionate lick that ceased his laughter and brought a surprised 
look to his face.
	Simba stared down at Nala, feeling the tingle from her kiss 
spreading through him like ripples in a pond.  She looked up at him, her 
eyes half-opened and giving him a look that sent fire racing through his 
belly.  He bent to her and nuzzled her, and she responded, rising up to 
bury her face in his mane and purring deeply, the thrumming sound 
carrying clear in the still evening air.  "Nala," he whispered.
	She said nothing, still purring low in her chest as she sat up and 
nuzzled him again, her side making heavy contact with his as she rubbed 
against him.  Nala circled him slowly, her tail coiling around his hind 
legs as she moved up his other side and nuzzled his neck again.  Lifting 
her head, she nibbled the edge of his ear playfully.
	He took a ragged breath and blew it out forcefully.  "Oh gods, 
what's wrong with me?"
	"What is it?"
	He stood unsteadily, his legs splayed wide, limbs trembling with 
unreleased tension.  "I feel so strange."  His eyes looked searchingly 
into hers, the fear and confusion clear through the haze of desire.
	She kissed him again, and he felt her tremble slightly, and saw 
the wonder in her own eyes.  " I think you're supposed to," she said, a 
tremulous laugh escaping her.  She nuzzled him again under the chin, 
then walked away towards the edge of the glade.  Simba followed her 
slowly, a pace behind, his gaze fixed as he drank in her beauty.  Nala 
hestitated, then crouched slowly, looking back over her shoulder at him 
with fear and desire warring in her eyes.  "Simba?  I..."
	"Shhh."  He stood close, unable to tear his eyes away from her, 
the moonlight slicing through the trees overhead and haloing her face in 
silver ethrealness.  
	"Beloved," he whispered, and went to her.



CHAPTER 63:  CONFRONTATION

	Simba padded along the path slowly, Nala's weight resting 
pleasureably on his shoulder as they walked.  A contented purr continued 
to rumble through her chest, and he echoed it as he nuzzled her behind 
her ear.  "You're beautiful, you know that?"
	"Yes."  She giggled and kissed him on the cheek.  "But thank you 
for saying so."  She studied his face in profile as they threaded their 
way through some dense greenery.  His face was so gentle, like his 
mother's, and the set of his jaw and the slight smile brought back 
memories of Mufasa.  But his eyes...oh gods, his eyes...her smile faded 
as she looked at him.  Simba was studying the waterfall that lay across 
the valley from them, his smile forgotten, almost an afterthought, now.  
The deep mask of sadness that she had glimpsed at the pool had returned 
full force.  The amber eyes that the other lionesses had commented on in 
his cubhood were so empty and devoid of feeling that it made her shiver.  
And the worst of it was, there was still something left in there, buried 
deep down.  She had seen it back there when she first kissed him.  Her 
old friend was still in there, in that well of sadness, and she wondered 
if she might ever bring him to the light of day again.
	Her jaw quivering, she buried her head in his mane, unwilling to 
let him see the tears that threatened to burst forth.
	Simba glanced down at her, his smile returning somewhat.  "Isn't 
this a great place?"
	Nala took a deep breath and raised her head, giving the scenery a 
perfunctory glance.  "It is beautiful," she conceded finally.  "But I 
don't understand something."  She looked at him quizzically.  "You've 
ben alive all this time..why didn't you come back to Pride Rock?"
	Simba figeted nervously.  "Well..." He padded over to a tangled 
mat of vines that swayed gently in the evening breeze.  He eased himself 
into its firm embrace, sprawling on his back comfortably.  "Well, I 
just..needed to get out on my own.  Live my own life.  And I did, and 
it's great!"  He peered at her earnestly.
	Nala's voice shook noticably.  "We've really needed you at home," 
she said.
	Simba's expression crumpled and he looked away.  "No one needs 
me."
	Gods, what was wrong with him?!  "Yes, we do!  You're the king!"
	"Nala, we've been through this," he said testily.  "I'm not the 
king; Scar is."  "And well he should be," Simba thought to himself.  The 
monarchy was no place for a murderer, and his uncle had wisely pointed 
this out in the gorge.  Simba had no choice but to agree to his self 
imposed exile.  Technically, it would have been well within his uncle's 
right to have him killed for Mufasa's death.  Yet he had shown mercy on 
his nephew and allowed him to leave untouched.  With such a wise and 
merciful king, the Pride Lands were better off under his uncle's 
supervision.
	At least, he thought so, until Nala informed him of the hyannic 
takeover of his homeland.  He stared at her disbelievingly.  "What?!"
	"There's no food, no water...Simba, if you don't do something 
soon, everyone will starve!"
	As he opened his mouth to answer, a chill brushed him, and he 
shivered.  He looked away from her, the depression filling him, his 
spirit sagging with guilt.  "I can't go back."
	"Why?!"
	"You wouldn't understand."
	"WHAT wouldn't I understand?!"
	"No, no, no."  He waved her off irritably.  "It doesn't matter.  
Hakuna Matata."
	"What?"  Nala's face twisted in confusion.
	"Hakuna Matata.  It's something I learned out here."  He leapt 
lightly upon a fallen tree and looked at her.  "Look," he said, eager 
for her to understand, "sometimes bad things happen-"
	"Simba!"  Nala lashed her tail in frustration.
	"-and there's nothing you can do about it," he grated, irritated 
at her interruption.  "So why worry?"  He looked away and paced 
agitatedly along the length of the tree.
	Nala followed alongside.  The anger and frustration came to a 
head, and she lashed at him with full force.  "Because it's your 
responsiblity!!"  Sweet Aiehu, why didn't he see it?
	Simba came to a stop and glanced at her angrily.  "So what about 
you?  YOU left!"
	"I left to find help!"  she shot back, incensed.  "And I found 
YOU.  Don't you understand?!"  Her voice trembled on the edge of tears.  
"You're our only hope."
	Simba closed his eyes for a moment, then loked at her.  "Sorry."
	Nala drew back and peered at him with narrowed eyes.  "What's 
happened to you?" She shook her head.  "You're not the Simba I 
remember."
	"You're right.  I'm not," he said, clipping his words off 
brutally.  "NOW are you satisfied?"
	"No.  Just disappointed."
	He started away, shoulders stiff with anger.  "You're starting to 
sound like my father."
	A tingle ran through Nala, and the words escaped unbidden.  "Good.  
At least ONE of us does."  She put a paw to her mouth, horrified at what 
she had said.
	Simba froze, the lethargic feeling ripped away as her words tore 
through him.  He spun around and advanced on her.  "Look!  You think you 
can just come in here and tell me how to run my life?!  You don't even 
know what I've BEEN through!"
	"I would if you'd just tell me!"  She moved to go to him, but he 
whirled and plunged through the underbrush, heedless of the sharp 
branches that tore at him.
	"Forget it!"  He padded away quickly, unwilling to let her see the 
tears in his eyes.
	"Fine!"  Nala turned away, stung, angry at herself for letting him 
get away.  She walked morosely over to the fallen log and leapt upon it, 
settling herself atop the old wood.  Her tail moved restlessly as she 
mulled over their conversation, berating herself for lashing out at him 
like that.  At a loss, she laid her head upon her forepaws, gazing out 
across the river valley.  The sound of the waterfall was lulling, and 
she blinked her eyes sleepily as she watched the sparkling torrent fall 
through the air to crash on the rocks below.  Soon she was dozing 
softly, the soft white light of the moon bathing her golden form in 
unearthly beauty.
	In the underbrush across from her, the light gleamed from twin 
points of amber fire.  The random edges of the leaves and branches 
shifted in the night breezes and gave form to a finely chiseled face 
that peered intrestedly at the sleeping lioness.  Mano sighed and 
slipped from the undergrowth, the pure white fur of his body gleaming 
like a fallen star as he padded noiselessly over to where Nala lay.
	He leaned over her, listening to her murmur uneasily in her sleep, 
reading her troubled thoughts.  He pursed his lips and blew gently in 
her face, the scent of wild honey clinging to her fur as he watched her 
features relax and smooth out.
	"Sleep, child.  You have done well.  It's up to him, now."  He lay 
down beside her, his mane shifting in an unseen breeze as he looked far 
to the east, where Pride Rock lay.  He thought of the unspeakable horror 
that lay nestled there, and his features hardened into a grim mask of 
determination.
	"And you, old one, are now on borrowed time."
	


CHAPTER 64:  I'M HOME!

	Makhpil looked on in horror as a living wave of hyenas crashed 
upon Simba, burying him under an assault of snapping jaws and ripping 
claws.  The lion struck out, scattering them in a bellow of fury as he 
methodically began to annihilate any and every opponent that seperated 
him from Taka, who stood across from them at the base of the promontory, 
exhorting the hyenas to fight on.  "Show no mercy!" Taka cried lustily.
	"Oh gods," she moaned as she saw a hyena tossed aside like a pup, 
shrieking horribly from the ragged wound in his side.  She recognized 
him well; he had come to her only last week to ask advice on where to 
dig a den for his mate.
	A terrific struggle ensued across from her, several hyena voices 
crying out in shock and fear.  Several went tumbling and rolling as Ber 
shouldered them aside, snapping savagely as he fought his way through 
the throng.  Behind him came Krull and Fabana, the two guarding Ber's 
flanks as he bludgeoned his way through the mass of his fellows, 
snarling defiantly.  Ber paused, seeing the mass of hyenas attacking 
Simba, and raised his voice.
	"To the King!"  he bellowed, turning lion heads as well as hyenas 
toward him.  "God and Roh'mach!!"
	An uproar joined him as the members of the hidden resistance 
group, plagued and tormented for years rose up with a shout and joined 
him.  "God and Roh'mach!"  Pandemonium reigned as hyena turned upon 
hyena, guards looking in surprise as companions they had known for years 
began to attack them bitterly.
	Makhpil felt her blood boil at the remembered injustices under the 
reign of Shenzi and Taka.  "God and Roh'mach!" she cried, turning upon a 
burly guard who was harrying Simba's flank.  Her fangs sank deep into 
his hide, and blood sprayed into her face in a hot flood.  Crying out, 
he whipped around, locking eyes with her.  "You!"
	"So Skulk, how do you do against an enemy who able to fight back, 
eh?!"  Makhpil bared her teeth at him.  "Not so easy as it was with 
Belvalen, eh?"
	"You WITCH!"  he cried, lunging at her.  She sidestepped neatly, 
dodging his attack with inches to spare.  He rose and flailed again, but 
she went under this time, tearing out a hunk of hair that made him wail 
with pain.  He stumbled back, stunned, a smear of blood reddening his 
chest like a blossom.  She started forward to finish him, but she 
stopped as the wave of pain and hurt hit her mind like an openhanded 
swat to the face, a soundless cry of agony that came from the spirit and 
not the flesh.
	"Why did you want to hurt me?" he thought.  "I liked you."
	His mind lay open to her suddenly, and she saw the hidden desire 
under the cruel exterior, a desperate wish for companionship that 
reached deep inside him to his core, a desolate lonliness that cried out 
for help.  And in her, he had seen the possibility of a way out.
	A way out now closed to him.
	She shuddered visibly and closed her mind, turning away so she 
would not have to look upon his face.  Leaving him standing there, she 
trotted away towards the spire of Pride Rock.
	Amarakh snarled viciously under the assault of a crowd of 
Shenzists.  Every time she tried to fight her way out, someone would 
attack her flanks, tearing at her horribly.  Makhpil pushed through to 
her and took up a position behind her.  Between the two of them, they 
could defend the small turf they occupied for the moment.  Amarakh 
groaned, feeling her strength draining from a dozen wounds as she looked 
upon the terrible battleground before them.  Hyenas, friend and foe 
alike lay srewn about, the bodies locked eternally in combat.  A cry of 
despair reached her as she saw the pitiful remnants of her Omlakh 
supporters being decimated by the sheer brute force of Shenzi's guards.
	Abruptly, the fighting hesitated, Shenzists and Omlakhs alike 
suddenly distracted.  Amarakh pointed, her breath catching in her 
throat.  "Great Roh'kash!"  she breathed.  "Look!"
	Makhpil looked and saw Simba and Taka engaged in a mortal struggle 
on the western crag.  And hovering around them was the false Roh'kash, 
now unmasked.  Melmokh was shielding Taka from the main brunt of the 
blows Simba tried to rain on him.
	Then burning with unearthly brilliance stood a mandrill holding a 
locket on a string.  The light came from the locket.  Beside him was a 
brilliant white lion, the largest she'd ever seen.  Why didn't the 
others see this?
	The spectre Melmokh obviously did.  Lightning came from the 
heavens, setting the grass aflame.  And Melmokh burned with a fierce 
rage himself, a living red firebrand so like the one in Fabana's 
nightmares.
	Rafiki took the locket at the end of its thong and spun it around 
his head.  The halo formed by the circling light seemed to slow down.  
The white lion crouched, his eyes bright with righteous indignation.  
Rafiki released the locket.  Mano sprang, his bright shilouette merging 
with the fire from the locket.  For one moment, Melmokh looked away from 
his work, and shrieked.  The white lion struck Melmokh, and a blinding 
flash of light erupted from the impact, followed by a psychic blast that 
stunned her with its fury.  Pain!  Horrible pain!  Their struggle sent 
out shock waves in the ether that drove jagged spikes through her 
consciousness.  Makhpil shrieked rolled around in agony before at last 
she mercifully fainted.
	Several moments passed in a sleep without dreams.  Finally she 
woke to the soft caress of rain in her face.  She felt something furry 
push her cheek.  The white lion was there, and he nuzzled her again.  
"Wake up, daughter."
	"Are you all right?"
	Mano smiled.  "I've been worse.  I've been better too."
	"Is Simba OK?  Did we win?"
	"We won.  Simba had a few cuts, but he's fine.  Ber took a lot 
more punishment, but I healed him of his pain as well."
	"How about Amarakh?"
	Mano's smile faded and he shook his head.  "She has passed beyond 
pain."
	It took a moment for his words to register, then Makhpil's 
features crumpled in grief.  "Oh God, no!"
	Running to Amarakh's still warm body, she started to paw the face.  
"No!  Roh'mach!  No, not in the moment of victory!"  She looked up.  
"Can't you bring her back?  You healed Ber--surely you can make her live 
again, can't you?"
	"I will live forever."  Light coalesced next to Mano, and the true 
Roh'mach herself emergerd, her featured composed and serene.  "Don't 
worry about me, child.  I've seen victory, and my heart is at peace.  
But take care of my husband--he's so helpless without me."
	"Anything you say, Amarakh.  I swear I'll take care of him."
	"Indeed she will," Mano said, nuzzling Amarakh.  "So will I."


CHAPTER 65:  HE LIVES IN YOU

		"The sated appetite spurns honey, but to a ravenous appetite 
	even the bitter is sweet."  

                                   -- PROVERBS 27, 7


	The confirmation of Uhuru as Roh'mach and her subsequent exile 
seemed that it must be Shenzi's ultimate humiliation.  She had been born 
a chosen one, but what she had been chosen by, no one was quite sure.
	Still, inside her she carried both the memories and the legacy of 
her relationship with Melmokh.  She was already beginning to show the 
"light in her eyes," as Fabana delicately put it.  Still Skulk, ever the 
naãve one, did not know that his "bak'ret" had long lost her maidenhood 
to another.
	Utterly disgraced, Shenzi followed Skulk meekly into the darkness 
of the savanna, hearing the soft calls of her brothers and their few 
compainions in the dark.
	Tired and footsore, the hyenas traveled well into the next day, 
stopping only to rest at high sun, whe it was too hot to travel any 
more.  They scattered under the spreading limbs of an acacia that 
provided welcome shade, panting fitfully in the intense heat.
	Shenzi pillowed her head against Skulk's flanks, looking at him 
through slitted eyes as he napped fitfully.  How, after all she had been 
through, could he still want her!  If only she were free to accept his 
frequent offers to pledge!  Surely the real Roh'kash would not consider 
her marriage binding.  After all, it was entered into under false 
pretennces.  All she knew is that she regretted her decision, and wanted 
something more substantial and wholesome.  Lies and empty promises had 
followed her literally from the moment of her birth.  Though she was no 
nisei herself, she still felt stifled by the wanton exploitation of her 
femininity.  She didn't know what to believe anymore, or who she could 
trust--all except for her faithful okash and Skulk.  Good old Skulk.
	Fabana came and nudged her.  She tossed her muzzle to the side and 
stared at her.
	Getting the hint, Shenzi stood up quietly and followed Fabana a 
short distance.  Fay made sure no one overheard them.
	"Shenzi, you must tell me plainly.  Are they Melmokh's?"
	"What?  Oh."  Shenzi looked down at her growing figure.  "Yeah.  
That's all we need right now is more mouths to feed."
	"That's not the issue," Fabana said sternly.  "This thing you had 
sex with--I won't even call it a ban'ret--is the creature that killed 
your father."
	"You mean the lion??"
	"No.  Your father was guiltless.  Melmokh arranged for Jal to slip 
when he was running from the lion.  It was premeditated murder.  This 
THING was responsible for the killing of Avina and for most of our 
troubles.  It feeds off of misery, so it stirs up misery to survive.  
What's worse, it took you away from the real God, and Missy, you're in 
need of some serious prayer."
	"Are you calling me a heathen??"
	"No.  I'm calling you the okash of something unholy.  What grows 
within you is the spawn of your okhim's murderer!  He has stolen your 
okhim, and now he has stolen your bak'rethood.  Skulk is no La'kresh, 
but he's faithful.  He would make a good husband, but how do you think 
he will feel when you bring something into the world born only to house 
Melmokh's spirit?  Did you really think a normal pup would come of this 
union??"
	"Well I...."  She hung her head.
	"It would be Melmokh itself.  It wants a physical body.  It has 
used your worship and your loyalty.  Now it has used your body.  USED, I 
say.  It can feel no love."
	Shenzi shuddered.  "And it's inside me, Muti!"  She drew close to 
Fabana and rubbed against her.  "Oh Muti!  What can I do??  What's Skulk 
going to say when he finds out I'm...."
	"The pup--if you can call it that--must die.  It's not one of us.  
And Skulk does not have to find out."


CHAPTER 65A:  THE PILGRIMEGE

	Fabana took Skulk aside and told him she was taking her daughter 
on a short trip--a pilgrimege.  "Do not be sad.  We will be gone six 
days, and when we return, I feel certain Shenzi will pledge to you."
	"You mean it?"
	"I don't say what I don't mean.  You know that."  She nuzzled him.  
"You will bring my daughter the things she's been missing in her life.  
I know we haven't always seen eye-to-eye...."  She smiled, self-
consciously, turning her good side to face him.  "Still, I will be glad 
to have you as my son."
	Skulk smiled sheepishly.  "Things are going to be better.  We're 
going to find us a good territory, one where our pups can grow and play.  
No more of this scrabbling in the badlands.  And you'll see, things can 
only get better from here.  I promise I'll be the best husband I can be 
for your Shenzi."
	They arranged to meet at Elephant Kopje in six days.  Skulk would 
remain in charge, even without Fabana to keep Banzai and Ed in line.  
They knew better than to cross him, and he warned them again just to 
make sure.
	Fabana chatted with Shenzi as they headed off into the south.  She 
described her dream of a white lioness who told her of the fruits that 
grew by Redrock Kopje.  "They taste bitter, but they will end your 
bitterness.  They bring death but they will save your life."
	"Good," Shenzi said defiantly.  "That will rid me of the last of 
Melmokh."  She tried to be brave about it, but slowly her face fell, her 
ears and tail fell limp and she trudged along like the dying.  Tears 
began to run down her cheeks.  
	"I was looking forward to being a mother.  I thought I could find 
happiness and be normal like everyone else."
	"What is inside you is no bringer of happiness.  Look forward to 
being with Skulk.  His children will bring you happiness.  And so will 
he, I warrant."
	They only walked about a day and a night to find Redrock Kopje.  
After gaining the goal so easily, Shenzi asked her okash, "Why did you 
say we'd be gone for six whole days?"
	"You'll find out.  I was warned that we must not rush things."
	The plants grew next to a watering hole at the base of the kopje.  
It was not a very safe location.  Surely others came to drink besides 
the antelopes and zebras that fled before them.  Ones not so likely to 
flee.
	Fabana came with bated breath to the water, then looked around 
carefully, sniffing and listening to the best of her ability.  After 
many moments passed, she called Shenzi to join her and she searched for 
the berries.
	The fruits were dark green with light stripes.  The bush they grew 
on was covered with thorns, and just the look--and smell--of it was 
enough to panic someone made of less stern stuff.  But Shenzi was 
determined to change her life for the better and strike a blow at the 
evil creature that violated her.
	"You must eat five--no more, no less."
	Shenzi forced down one.  She nearly vomited.  "Ooh, these are 
bitter!"
	"You will forget the bitterness soon enough."
	Another went down, her face tightening with disgust.  Then three 
more.  Gasping, she wanted to wash them down with water, but Fabana 
cautioned her against it.
	"We must do exactly as we are told.  Now then, Missy, I will find 
you a stick."
	"Why?"
	"Something to chew on.  You'll need it, honey tree.  If you don't 
want to bite clear through your tongue."
	"Oh??"  Shenzi settled down to rest by the water.  "Muti, I'm 
afraid."
	"I know.  So am I."
	Fabana pulled over a large stick.  Then she began to groom Shenzi 
who smiled to feel the closeness of her muti again.  
	"I used to be so certain about things," Shenzi said.  "My birth 
was the dawn of a new era.  I was going to be the mate of Roh'khim.  I 
used to know where I'd be a moon from now, a year from now, eight 
years....  Now it's all upside down.  And frankly, I don't have a clue 
where I'm going to be five minutes from now."
	"Welcome to real life."
	Shenzi sighed.  "Why was I born?"
	"For the best possible reason.  Jal and I loved each other, and we 
wanted pups.  Before Melmokh came into our lives, that was our plan.  
You were conceived out of our love for each other.  No one can take that 
away from you, Missy."
	She shuddered as the toxin began to work.  "Tell me about my okhim 
again."
	"You would have loved him.  He was looking so forward to being 
there to see you born.  He was funny and sweet and as loyal to me as the 
sunrise is to the morning.  The moon we spent together was the greatest 
of my life."
	"Only one moon?" she said, tight-lipped with the odd sensations in 
her stomach and abdomen.
	"Yes, my sweet daughter."
	"I'm not a sweet daughter.  I'm surprised you followed me to this 
hell hole after what I did to you."
	"Who said I followed you?"  She smiled.  "Ed needed someone to 
look after him.
	"Oh!"
	"What's wrong?"
	"Oh!!"  Her eyes widened.  "I'm having contractions!"
	"Already?"
	"Oh gods!!"  She rolled over on her side and her back legs began 
to twitch.  "Muti, I'm scared!  Are you sure she said five?"
	"Honey tree, that's what she said!"
	Shenzi panted heavily.  The fur on her sides was moist with 
perspiration and she groaned.  Fabana got the stick and put it between 
Shenzi's jaws.  Those powerful jaws could snap a small bone like a twig 
and grind the marrow from even the largest tibia.  They notched the wood 
as she began to gnaw desperately.
	"Honey, you have to push.  Bear down."
	"But I...oh gods!  Oh gods!!  I'm being torn in half!!"
	"Shenzi!"  Fabana started to the water to see if it was cool.
	"Muti!  Don't leave me!"
	"I'm here, Honey!"
	For several minutes, she experienced one contraction after another 
with no apparent effect.  Then she began to bleed.
	"It's happening," Fabana said.
	"Is this what giving birth feels like?"
	"No.  This is unnatural.  It's not what Roh'kash intended."
	She shrieked a stifled cry, biting on the stick so hard it 
cracked.  Fay nearly went crazy, kissing her daughter and stammering 
prayers to Roh'kash.  Then when it seemed she could take no more, 
Shenzi's water broke and moments later a single pup was expelled with a 
great deal of blood.
	Shenzi rested a moment, then through sheer willpower she struggled 
to her feet and wobbled unsteadily to the water to wash off.  Shenzi 
lingered in the water a moment, eyes closed as she relished the cool 
flow over her body.  Reluctantly, she paced slowly out of the water and 
walked carefully towards the red stain on the sand, her eyes swimming as 
she took in the tiny form lying motionless on the ground.  The pup had 
broken free from the afterbirth, small but well formed.  Shenzi's skin 
crawled as she saw it stir.  "Muti!" she cried.  "Look!"
	Fabana gasped in horror as the pup's head lifted waveringly, 
seeking them out with blind eyes.  "I'll get you," it silently but 
clearly mouthed.  "I'll kill you!"
	It trembled, crumpled over, and collapsed lifelessly into the 
dust.
	Though afraid to touch it after this supernatural curse, Fabana 
dug a hole and pushed it and the afterbirth into it, covering it too 
deeply for most scavengers to dig up.  After all, they did not want to 
attract any danger while they had to remain there.
	For the next night and day, Shenzi drifted in and out of 
consciousness as the toxin circulated through her body.  Sometimes she 
would have chills, and her okash would snuggle next to her, patting her 
with a paw and speaking words of encouragement and love.  
	Finally by the fourth day Shenzi could walk slowly but properly, 
and Fabana insisted that they must leave Redrock Kopje to find the 
others.
	Shenzi was horribly weak and wobbly.  Vultures, seeing her 
unsteady gait, begin to circle.  But Fabana glared at the birds from 
time to time and they kept a safe distance.
	Fay insisted that Skulk must know nothing of the abortion, so she 
kept Shenzi walking for long periods of time, resting only when 
necessary.  "You are weak, but you must seem strong."  And little by 
little over the two day trip, Shenzi got her strength back.
	When they rejoined the others by Elephant Kopje, Shenzi gracefully 
hid her remaining weakness.
	"You must have had bad hunting," Skulk said.
	"No," Shenzi quickly replied.  "We fasted."
	Skulk glanced at Fabana.  "Both of you?"
	"Just her," Fabana said.
	"I did it for you," Shenzi told Skulk, rubbing down his side.  "In 
a few days there will be a full moon.  They say pledging under a full 
moon means love will last forever."
	"At last?  After all this time?"  He nuzzled her passionately.  
"You promise?"
	"I promise."
	Skulk pawed her gently.  "I love you Shenzi."
	She smiled.  Surely he would not be as skilled in pleasuring as 
was the Makei.  But his love filled a hole deep inside of her, something 
the Makei never would or could try to address.  "I love you too.  You'll 
never just know how much."
	


CHAPTER 66:  AMOR VINCIT OMNIA

	Gur'bruk and Kambra gazed wearily upon the savanna before them as 
they padded over the ground with sore paws.  Searching the horizon 
eagerly, they spotted Antelope Kopje in the distance, and soon 
afterwards the Clan Acacia.  "Home!" Kambra muttered, her hackles 
standing up.  "Dearest Roh'kash, I never thought I'd see it again!"
	"Yes, old girl."
	"I wonder who's in our old place."
	"I wonder how Bath and Mer'bel are."
	Kambra briefly whined.  "So do I, but I'm scared.  Will they want 
to see us?  What if they're dead?  We don't really know anything!"
	"Don't be foolish, dear.  You're just nervous, but everything's 
going to be all right--God willing."
	They headed to the invisible line that marked the territory of the 
clan.  In the bushes there were subtle sounds around that they 
recognized as sentries calling to each other.
	"Maida elekhvor," Kambra said.
	One of the sentries stepped out.  It was Ber.  "That's an old 
password, but...."  He looked at them carefully.  "Are you spirits?"
	"What do you think?" Kambra asked.
	Ber scratched behind his ear awkwardly.  "Gur'bruk, how are you?  
Those things I said about your son--I mean--Gur'mekh paid for what he 
did, and I'm just trying to say that...."
	"That you've missed us?"  She pawed his face.  "We've missed you 
too.  You are glad to see us, aren't you?"
	Ber's tail began to wag so hard that his whole back end began to 
shake.  He nuzzled her warmly and cried, "Yes, yes!  Welcome home, old 
friends!  Oh gods, it's good to see you again!"
	"I take it we may pass?"
	"Of course.  I'll take full responsibility.  When you want in, 
remember that the new watchword is `elim galberet' cause some of the new 
guards may not know you.  We have a new Roh'mach, and he's much kinder 
than the last two.  He knows all about the makei, and I doubt he'll 
honor the ban."
	"Who's in charge now?" Gur'bruk asked.
	"Uhuru.  You knew him as Krull."
	"Krull?  Your grandson Krull?"
	Ber practically beamed.  "Yes sir, none other!"  
	"I hope you don't mind if we go say hello to the family."
	"By all means!  But don't be a stranger!"  Ber nuzzled them both 
lovingly.  "I'm so glad that we put the past behind us!"
	Gur'bruk said, "I know what it feels like to lose a son.  I'm so 
sorry, Ber!  I just want you to know that."
	Ber nodded.  "And I'm sorry about Gur'mekh.  He loved you a great 
deal."
	"We'll pay our respects to Lenti if she'll see us."
	He shook his head.  "Perhaps she's looking down on you now."
	"Oh!  I'm so sorry!"
	Ber looked down.  "And that's not all."  He pawed Kambra's face.  
"Prepare yourself, my dear.  Your sister is gone too."
	Kambra's eyes widened.  "My Shimbekh?"
	"I'm afraid so."
	Kambra's eyes misted up.  "We were so close...."  Tears spilled 
down her cheeks.  "My poor Shimbekh!  Oh gods!"
	When Kambra regained her composure, she signalled to Gur'bruk and 
the two of them headed deep into clan territory.
	They were in for more surprises as they went to find their family.
	Bath and Mer'bel were playing with their pups in the eastern 
march.  "Girls!" Kambra said, feeling her heart rise in her mouth.  
"It's time for your nap!"
	They looked around, stunned.  "Muti!  Maleh!"
	There was a tearful reunion, one made all the more special by the 
quick arrival of Gur'bruk and Kambra's parents.  Word spread fast among 
the hyenas.
	The whole family was together for the first time in years.  
En'geer and Tela were off hunting, but a quick look by Mer'bel turned up 
their pups.  It was becoming a rather large reuinion.
	The absence of Shimbekh and Gur'mekh was keenly felt, but they all 
felt that somewhere, somehow their hearts were with them.  Such peace 
came to them all as had not been felt in many moons.
	Bath and Mer'bel introduced them to their husbands, then to the 
pups.  There was no way Gur'bruk and Kambra could remember all those 
names, but they both loved children so, and fit easily into the new role 
of grandparents.  They were mobbed by affectionate pups, some of whom 
had the gift.
	"I can see that prophesy is alive here," Kambra said with a happy 
sigh, kissing the small wiggling bodies that tugged at her ears and 
tail, rubbing against her side and crying "Grand-okash!"  Gur'bruk 
rolled on his back, batting at his assailants.  One pup sat on his 
stomach and peered straight down into his eyes.  "Gotcha!"
	Bath said, "They're going to love their grand-okash.  Muti, we'll 
have to find you a new place.  Dabrek is old and set in his ways, and he 
is fond of napping on your old scratching grounds."
	"We're not here to stay," she replied.  
	"But you MUST stay," Bath said, her ears folding back.  "Muti, 
it's OK for you to come back.  The Roh'mach understands."
	"We have things to do first.  We're going to Pride Rock, and I'm 
not sure how long we'll be gone.  But the moment we leave, we're coming 
back here."
	"Why are you going there?"
	"To keep an old promise."
	Just then, Uhuru came by.  Gur'bruk winced.  "We were just 
leaving," he said.  "We came to see the family."
	"Now look here, Gur'bruk.  Since when is having puppies a crime 
worthy of expulsion?"
	"We must be honest about this.  You know good and well Gur'mekh 
told us he was guilty.  We harbored him for a while because he was 
desperate to have an exorcism.  No matter what the Roh'mach said, only 
God has the right to condemn an immortal soul.  What we did, we had to 
do.  On this basis you may make your decision, and we will abide by it."
	Uhuru said, "I'm not telling you to trample the law underfoot, but 
I'm a little more open minded than poor Amarakh.  I've seen things in my 
life that have broadened my views.  The ban is ended, and tonight we 
will set aside time to grieve for Gur'mekh."
	"Thank you, Roh'mach.  How is Amarakh?"
	"Dead, Gur'bruk.  The dying has stopped, but during the two 
conflicts and the famine nearly a third of the people you knew died."
	Gur'bruk gasped.  "My gods!"
	Gur'bruk and Kambra headed on toward Pride Rock.  Halfway there, 
they were challenged by a hunting party of lionesses.
	"Ho there, we don't know you."
	"King Ahadi will understand our mission."
	"Ahadi?  He's been dead for some time.  His grandson Simba is king 
now."
	"Grandson?"  Gur'bruk looked at Kambra.  "Has it really been that 
long, old girl?"
	Kambra spoke up.  "Where is Yolanda?  She can explain this.  
	"Sorry, ma'am.  She's dead."  Ajenti drew closer and examined 
Kambra carefully.  It was a tense moment.  "So how did you know my 
mother?"
	"Your mother was very kind to us in our suffering.  We came here 
to thank her.  I'm so sorry."
	Ajenti relaxed.  "There's only one hyena that mother knew.  You 
wouldn't be Kambra, would you?"
	"Yes, I'm Kambra."  She looked at Ajenti carefully.  "I'll never 
forget your muti's face.  You have her eyes, and the bridge of your 
nose.  It was such a kind face, and she had such a large heart."
	"She must have told me about you a hundred times," Ajenti said 
with a purr.  "Now I see you face to face."
	"I promised your okash--your mother--that I would come back 
someday and visit her."  She nuzzled Ajenti.  "Yolanda, wherever you 
are, that's for you."
	Ajenti kissed her.  "And that's from my mother."
	Just then, investigating the odd meeting, Simba came up.  He 
looked at them closely, then shook all over.  "Hey, I know you!"  He 
smiled broadly.  "You're the two hyenas that saved my life!"
	"You're that little cub??" Gur'bruk said.
	"You're that big hyena??"
	They both burst out laughing.  "Come," Simba said, "let's have 
something to eat!  You'll be glad to know that grubs are NOT on the 
menu!"


CHAPTER 68:  THE HUNTER HOME FROM THE HILL

	"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."

                                        --  GUR'MEKH

	Skulk's love for Shenzi was genuine, and it was not long before 
she had "the light in her eyes" once again, the impending promise of new 
life preparing to come forth.  The birth of the pups was greeted by 
joyous exultation by the new clan, eager as they were to perpetuate 
their line.  Ed was not particularly impressed with the new children, 
engrossed as he was in studying the cloud formations overhead, but 
Banzai's chest swelled with pride as he looked at his little nephews and 
nieces.  "Nice job, Sis."
	Shenzi smiled tiredly as her children gathered to her to take 
their first meal.  "Thanks."
	Skulk worked overtime to try and fulfill his promise to Fabana.  
Under the circumstances, he provided for Shenzi and his pups rather 
well, but they went hungry more often than not.  There was little enough 
food to go around for they had no territory of their own.  Even when 
they did kill, it was sometimes taken from them by the lords of the 
land.
	The brave thing to do might have been to not have pups.  But the 
husbands and wives had few basic comforts and even fewer pleasures.  So 
soon a few more couples had pups.
	The scarcity of food began to take its toll, visible in the lean 
forms and gaunt faces of the clan.  The suffering was most readily 
apparent in the oldest.  Fabana could not eat while depriving the 
children, so Fay was slowly starving herself to death.
	Tired all the time, Fay curled up one day at mid-sun in the scant 
shade of a dying acacia.  Soon she was asleep, her body too drained to 
sustain a prolonged effort in the heat.
	Jalkort came and nudged her.  She awoke with a start.  "Jal??  Is 
this it?  Am I dead??"
	"No, Fay.  I've come to plead with you.  You must go back to Pride 
Rock.  Do this for me.  Do it for the lions who still love you.  Do it 
for Makhpil who needs someone warm and strong to give her 
companionship."
	"But I can't run out on my children!"
	"Would I ask you to run out??"  Jal looked at her crossly.  "You 
think what you're doing is noble.  But who appreciates it?  If you were 
back at Pride Rock, you would eat well and they would eat better.  Look, 
honey bunch, you deserve a little happiness.  I can't please you 
anymore, but you can find release from your misery if you'll only take 
it.  Besides, you're spoiling heaven for me.  I want you with me, but 
not by you dying young from hunger!  Be happy for me.  Be happy for you.  
Be selfish for a change.  Gur'bruk and Kambra are there.  And remember, 
you were never banned to begin with.  You're free to go home whenever 
you please.  Uhuru is doing a fine job, and there is plenty of food.  
What's more, you will find self respect, and love.  Go home."
	Fabana opened her heart to the possibility of home and old 
friends.   Tears began to flow like falling rain, and the burden on her 
heart melted away.  "Oh gods, I'll do it!"
	She awoke with a start.  Went and kissed her daughter Shenzi.  
"Don't you look beautiful today, my daughter!"
	"Say what??"
	"No, really you do.  Sometimes you need to be told."
	"Well, uh, thanks.  You seem to be in a good mood today.  What 
happened?"
	"I discovered something about myself.  Something that really makes 
me feel better.  You see, it is not my fault that your father died.  
It's not my fault that the false Roh'kash deceived us.  It's not my 
fault that Taka died, and it's not my fault that you are selfish."
	"Huh??"
	"Maybe with a father to give you some guidance, someone who knew 
more about the ways of our people, you would have turned out 
differently.  That's not your fault, mine, or Jalkort's.  Things 
sometimes happen like that.  But I'm leaving you now.  You'll be fine 
without me, I'm sure.  I need a little more happiness before I die.  
I've found a fresh trail, and I'm going to follow it before the scent 
gets cold."
	"But muti, you just can't!"
	"Do me one favor, Missy: don't tell anyone that I didn't love you.  
I'll always love you, even when you don't deserve it.  So good bye, Hon, 
and Roh'kash be with you.  I will pray for you."
	Shenzi's jaw dropped.  "Is that it??"
	"No, say good bye to Ed for me."
	"Muti, I...."
	"Yes?"
	"Well, I...."
	"I know.  You love me.  Don't think I don't appreciate it.  But 
that does not change things."
	"So are you just going to run out on us?  Just like that?  How can 
you do this to me??"
	Fabana thought a moment.  "How can I do this to YOU??  Hah!  
That's rich, Missy!"  And with that, Fay turned and trotted off into the 
bush.



CHAPTER 69:  OLD FRIENDS

	Old Fabana was watching some lion cubs playing from the shade of a 
friendly acacia.  It was nearly mid-sun, and she slowly, stiffly got to 
her feet.  "Come on, children!  Time for your nap!"
	"Oh Auntie Fay, can't we have a little longer?"
	"No, Lakayla.  Your growing body needs its rest."
	Slowly, but with a proud bearing, Fabana led the lion cubs to the 
cave.
	"Where did your other eye go?" Lakayla asked.
	"I must have forgotten it.  Oh, it will turn up one of these 
days."
	Lakayla laughed.  "I'm serious."
	"I was attacked by a large animal.  A dog."
	"They're fierce creatures that just want to kill for the fun of 
it.  That's what mom says."
	"Your mom is wrong."  She looked back on Fielder with the wisdom 
of age.  "Dogs are vulnerable, just like us.  They have feelings that 
can be hurt, and they can want things so much that they can go too far 
and do something they regret.  Then they feel bad--just like us."
	"You mean you don't hate the dog?"
	"Once I did.  Now I feel sorry for him."
	"What did he want?"
	"Something I couldn't give him."  Fay nuzzled her.  "Run along 
now, and don't ask so many questions."
	Fabana settled to the cool floor of the cave, and the other cubs 
piled on her one by one to form a large heap.
	Tanabi eyed her and smiled.  There were times he forgot she was a 
hyena and thought of her as just another one of the pride sisters.  She 
stayed behind with the cubs when the lionesses went out to hunt, freeing 
up another lioness to gather food.  
	Though she was rather frail with age, none of the cubs dared to 
challenge her authority, even those larger and more robust.  She could 
even make Marli's cubs behave.
	Of course Roh'mach Bashak and his family would always greet Fay 
affectionately when they'd visit Simba.  When this happened, invariably 
some of the lions--usually the very young--would ask Fabana why she 
didn't live with her people.
	"But I do.  My people are the ones that love me.  Some were 
hyenas, like Jalkort, my parents, and Ber.  Others like you are lions.  
It's all in what you call family."


 
EPILOGUE:

	Melmokh was wandering the Pride Lands.  He looked at Pride Rock, 
bitter because of the setbacks he had endured, but still hopeful that he 
would achieve his dreams.
	He was attracted to those who suffer.  And though tired and empty 
inside, he was stalking a grief, an angry grief.  He had no idea that it 
would lead him to the cave atop Pride Rock, the home of the King 
himself!
	The lionesses were gone, and the cubs were playing in the field.  
But what luck!  King Tanabi's twin sons Imani and Watanga were 
experiencing the grief that only one would inherit the kingdom, and it 
would be Imani.
	Watanga was confronting his father bitterly over the decision.  
Tanabi and Misha listened to his outpouring of ire and hatred with 
absolute consternation.  "How can you speak of us this way?" Misha said.  
"How can you say we don't love you?  Watanga, how can you put this thorn 
through our hearts?"
	"Love, you say?  If you'd just given me half a chance to prove 
myself--just half a chance!  I'm as good as Imani.  Maybe even better.  
But you never gave me a chance!  And let me tell you about thorns 
through the heart: every time I wanted to play, you would tell me to 
study if I wanted to be king someday!  You knew all the time!  That's 
why you called me Watanga, `cause I'd never be anything but a wanderer!"
	Melmokh watched with glee.  What an opportunity!  He went to touch 
Watanga to influence him, when Watanga turned around.
	"Melmokh, have you learned nothing?"  The cub spoke in a deep and 
powerful voice totally unlike his own.
	"How did you see me?  How did you know my name??"
	"I see all and know all."
	Melmokh tried to look into the cub's eyes, but he saw in them an 
overwhelming goodness and righteousness which burned him like fire.  He 
quickly looked away.  "Aiheu!  You tricked me!"  He backed back till the 
wall of the cave stopped his progress.  Swallowing heavily, he could 
almost feel the walls closing in on him.  "Aiheu, have mercy!  Have 
mercy!"
	"You have made no progress, though I have extended you the benefit 
of the doubt and shown you great patience."
	"Don't kill me!  I'll do anything you ask, but don't kill me!  I'm 
a miserable wretch who just wants to be left alone!  I'll go away, far 
away!"
	He turned to flee, but found that Tanabi and his Queen had 
vanished.  In their stead were the brilliant forms of Mano and Minshasa.  
He was trapped.
	"No!  Don't!"  He fell before the cub and with his eyes tightly 
shut began to kiss his feet.  "My life is not worth living, but I'm 
afraid to die!  Don't hurt me, Aiheu!  Please!"
	Aiheu looked on him with pity.  "Since you cannot escape me this 
time, let me tell you what's about to happen so you won't be afraid."
	"You're going to kill me!  How can I not be afraid??"  He began to 
rub the cub's forearm with his paw.  "Like all living things, I'm part 
of your spirit!  If you kill me, you would decrease!  You would only 
harm yourself!"
	The cub shook his head.  "Your spirit will go on living, but in a 
real sense, you will die.  Everything that made you Melmokh will perish 
along with your past."
	Melmokh cowered down.  "All of it?"  He whined and pawed at Aiheu.  
"Will nothing be left?"
	"If there were, the memories would only torment and sicken you.  
It is best that you remember nothing."
	"For my own good?  Even the wisdom it took me centuries to 
acquire?"
	"It did you no good, Melmokh.  You attained much knowedge, but 
aquired so little wisdom.  You don't even know how to love!  What else 
is worth knowing when your heart is desolate?"
	Melmokh said, "But it is not my fault!  I have tried to love!  
Really I have!  And if I were a rock or tree that didn't care, that 
would be different, but I can hurt.  Hate, jealousy, fear, these all 
come easy to me.  They are as unpleasant to me as they are to Mano and 
Minshasa, yet I have drunk only from those streams.  Must I die never 
knowing love?  Never knowing happiness?"
	"Your last thoughts as Melmokh will be happy ones."
	"Will it hurt?"
	"No.  I will make sure it does not."
	"Is happiness anything like pleasure?  I know what pleasure feels 
like, but I can't remember ever feeling happy."
	"Happiness is even better than pleasure."  Aiheu trotted over to 
the cistern.  There in the mud by the water lay a small lion cub.  "Look 
at her, Melmokh.  Look closely.  That's where you will find happiness."
	"Is she dead?"
	"She has never lived.  I made her from the mud.  Complete in every 
good thing except that she lacks a living spirit."
	Melmokh looked at his Lord slowly, hope dawning at last.  "Mine?"
	"Yes.  And you will know enough love and happiness in this small 
body to outweigh a thousand lives as Melmokh."
	Melmokh padded over to her.  He felt strange.  "Oh, isn't she 
beautiful!"
	"She pleases you?"
	"Yes, but...."
	"But there's more to it than that?"
	"Yes, Lord.  I'm not sure what."
	A small coal of happiness inside him began to grow.  There was 
much tinder that had accumulated over many cheerless centuries, and all 
those buried feelings burst into flame.  Tears began to stream down his 
cheeks.  "Is this it?  Is this happiness?"
	"Yes."
	"If I could feel this way, I wouldn't want to hurt anyone.  Why 
not let me go, My Lord?  Why kill me now?"
	"You are already dying.  It is the happiness that is burning away 
your past.  Don't fight it.  Let the feeling flow through you.  All your 
pain is burning away."
	"Then let it burn!  Yes, Lord, let it burn!  I want it to burn!"  
He ran his paw over the small, furry child.  "Look at those tiny little 
paws!  And those ears!  I never had a mate or a child of my own.  Oh, 
look at that little pink nose!"
	The hyena shuddered and his shape began to dissolve into a mist.  
"Oh gods, I feel so happy!  Happy at last!  So very...."
	Within seconds he completely deresolved, leaving only a golden 
fog.  Aiheu breathed in, capturing the spiritual essence.  He then 
carefully parted the female's jaws and gently breathed into her the 
breath of life, watching her chest rise, then fall.  She gasped and her 
eyes opened.
	Aiheu looked at her with mirth and amusement in his eyes.  "Wake 
up, Shandra!"  He smiled and nuzzled her.  "Happy birthday, little 
girl!"
	She smiled, yawned, then stretched luxuriously.  Rising to take 
her first steps, she rubbed against Aiheu, then toddled over to Minshasa 
who lay ready to nurse her.  With a friendly paw, Minshasa cuddled her 
to her milk.
	"Well," Minshasa said with a sigh, "There's always room for 
another."
	"No thanks," Mano said.  "I just ate."
	She smiled wryly.  "Oh you are so wicked sometimes!"  She jerked 
her head.  "Come over here where I can nuzzle you!"
	Mano settled next to her and purred softly, rubbing his face 
against the sweet comfort of her cheek.  Aiheu smiled and raised his paw 
in blessing.  "Daima pendana.  Love one another as I have loved you."  
And so it was that the shadow of the Makei was lifted from the land.

        "And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light.
        And God saw that the light was good."

                                -- Genesis 1:3-4


THE END:  SHADOW OF THE MAKEI