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“It does not matter if I am in danger. When I am struck down, I will be lifted up like Busara in triumph over death!” He went back into the cave and held a lamp next to the paintings. He saw a picture that represented himself together with the family group. Metutu fell to his knees and wept. “That must be the last thing he painted!” He touched the painting carefully with his fingertips. “Oh gods, I still can’t believe he’s gone. I will see that he did not die in vain, Kima. I will carry on his work, so help me gods!”

“See this line that connects you to Asumini? It was his hope that you should one day be joined in marriage. It was my hope too that one day you would enjoy a love rooted in truth and beauty.”

Metutu, understandably, did not want to betray his own father to the council. Not that much would come of it, with suspicions about Busara’s religion having being confirmed. But he could not condone what his father did.

“Kima, I am going to continue with my studies with Makedde. I will be a shaman as I had promised.”

Kima smiled, but her eyes were sad. “Aiheu will bless you. I only wish Busara could have been here to finish your training. He was looking so forward to it.”

“I didn’t know him for long, but I will never forget his gentle wisdom. He told me to follow my dream. I will.”

“You must be careful. Don’t let the ignorant put out your light.”

“I am willing to spill my blood for the love of Aiheu. Without his love, life is not worth living.”

“Still don’t count your life worthless. Don’t discard it lightly. Remember that some of us love you.”

He hugs her around the shoulder. “Some of us love you too.”

Asumini was looking at the paintings. “There is my Auntie," she said tearfully. "She loved us, but she was always my father's. I will miss her."

“She told me she would not leave until her work was done.” He thought a moment. “Besides, I will always be there for you.” Metutu took Asumini in his arms. “As your father gave up his life to pass the truth to me, I will make sure you have what you need even if I must do without! I will be another son to Kima, and a husband to you.”

“Metutu, we do not want your pity. That is not the kind of love we feel for you.”

“Not pity! I have always felt for you. You were always so wise and as beautiful as I am plain.”

“Your face is not plain.”

“Only because you are beautiful enough for both of us.” He kissed her first on one cheek then the other. “Don't blame me for feeling attracted to you. What son of Chako could look at you and not think guilty thoughts."

She gave him a chaste kiss. “Someday there will be a time for guilty thoughts when grief has run its course. And they will be of you. If you love me, give me time.”

“I give you my whole lifetime. When you need me, I won’t be far behind.”

CHAPTER 19: THE NEXUS

Metutu could not get out of his mind what the lioness Asumini had said. “Have courage.” What did she mean? Courage about the death of Busara? About his new faith? Secretly he had fantasies about calling her up, opening his arms, and saying, “Come to me, Asumini!” And she would make him her brother and tell him wonderful things about life and beauty.

His father wanted him to be the next chief. But he felt the call to do the will of Aiheu. He longed for a life of sincerity. Of course, he had hopes that one day mandrill society would change. But change must come from other sources. Is that the courage he must have?

Kinara's ongoing feud with Old Maloki was coming to a head. Finally the privilege of getting water from the creek on their lands was going to start costing them more. That was it. Old Maloki had been holding on to his lands with great tenacity, but some of his people were ripe for a change. And Kinara thought the best change for all concerned was a greater village, and a united council.

But how best to go about it? Certainly not by military force, at least not the forces of Kinara. Rather, it must be done subtly from the inside with a few well-placed rumors. After all, the chief felt, there was nothing he could say about the old greedy gut that was worse than the truth.

As he was working on his plans, Neema brought him his favorite dinner, a mixture of several different fruits mashed together with a bowl and antelope bone with an egg. The three children used to love it, not so much for the taste or texture, but the way she fixed it, describing the elephant stomping through the village. She called it "Elephant Stew."

"Neema, is that you?"

She startled and dropped the plate, spilling the contents all over him.

"What is wrong with you, Missy??"

She grasped her head. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry."

"What's wrong?"

"I've been a little clumsy lately. Maybe it's this headache."

"Headache? Oh." He brushed himself off as best he could, but the mixture was a little sticky. "Don't bother with it--I'll clean it up. Besides, I need a break."

Usually she would insist on cleaning it up anyhow. As Kinara headed to the creek to bathe, he began to wonder if maybe her headache was worse than she'd been telling him. And come to think about it, she'd had that headache for a number of days that he can remember.

Makedde was humming to himself softly as he cleaned out the little wooden bowl he used for mixing his medicines. Wiping it clean, he discarded the handful of leaves and set the bowl gently in a corner. Rising, he turned around and nearly collided with Neema. Startled, the mandrill tumbled backwards, upsetting the stack of crockery and sending it tumbling to the floor.

"Merciful Lord! You nearly frightened me out of my wits!" He held his chest and exhaled strongly.

"I'm sorry, son, I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Of course, Mother. It's just-unexpected, to see you here."

Neema wrung her hands nervously, a small tic twitching at her cheek. "I know, and I wouldn't bother you, but...."

"Mother," Makedde said, slightly chiding. "You are no bother; you are welcome any time. What is it?" He looked at her curiously. "Are you all right?"

She smiled thinly. "Actually, no. My head hurts."

"Again?" He kissed her. "If I had to live with dad and his schemes I'd have headaches too. So what is it now, Old Maloki again?

"Yes. Always." She moaned. "I was wondering if you could help me with it. I need something stronger."

He chuckled softly and led her over to his sleeping mat where they sat down. "Oh, the day I can't fix a little headache is the day I give up my work." He cocked his head, studying her face. "Did you fall or did it just start hurting?" He began to feel her head ever so gently.

"No, I didn't fall, it just started hurting one day, and it's been getting worse ever since."

His fingers massaged her temples and she wailed in pain. Makedde jerked his hands back as though he had been burned. He looked at her, astonished. "How long ago was this 'one day'?"

She looked at him miserably, tears glinting at the corners of her eyes. "Only since the last time you came to eat dinner with us at home; on Metutu's birthday, remember?"

He gaped at her. "Your head has been hurting for two moons?? My gods, why didn't you tell me!"

She began to weep openly. "Please don't get mad at me. You know how your father gets; if he knew I was coming to you for help it would upset him terribly. He wouldn't understand."

"Why didn't you go to another healer, then?"

"They aren't good like my son. I don't know about this Aiheu you worship, but you have a light that shines in the darkness. I'm not sure if I believe in him, but I believe in you."