“Blasphemy!” some of the mandrills shouted, throwing dust into the air and beating on their chest. But Bazoto and his two sons ran to Kinara, fell to their knees and kissed his hands. “Aiheu abamami! Aiheu abamami!” Kinara laid his hands on them and blessed them.
“I call for a vote!” the Priest said, spreading out his arms. “Shall we follow God, or shall we let him mire us in lion dung??”
Jadi cried, “Pishtim!”
The brothers Makali and Kumba cried, “Pishtim!”
Kinara watched, his heart sinking as one elder after another said, “Pishtim!”
He looked pleadingly at Kobi, his old friend. Kobi looked away, ashamed. “Pishtim,” he stammered. Kobi had a wife and young children to look after, and Kinara understood.
Smugly, the High Priest looked at Kinara and the three who huddled next to him. “We know how you voted. It’s all too clear. Do you want a recount? Oh please, if you do, I will give you every opportunity.”
Kinara took in a deep breath, let it slowly out, and said, “I step down in favor of my son Makoko. This is the word of the chief--so be it.” He tossed his staff on the ground.
“A wise decision,” the Kasisi said with a sneer. “Now I want you and the other three out of the circle. And let everyone understand clearly....” He looked around at all the faces one by one, then pointed at Kinara and those huddled near him. “....that if THESE unhallowed persons EVER defile this holy ground again, they will be put to death IMMEDIATELY. This is the word of the Chief Priest--so be it!”
CHAPTER 22: MEA CULPA
The next morning, Kinara took the longest walk of his life. Busara’s cave was a shrine of peace for Metutu, but Kinara found it a monument to his crushing guilt.
“Kima, are you there?”
“Where else would I be?” She stepped out and looked at him with icy reserve.
“I wondered if you were all right. Have enough food?”
“My needs are met. Sorry about your wife.”
“Sorry about your husband,” Kinara said with a catch in his throat. “You could never imagine how sorry.”
“Maybe not.”
“What I mean is....” Kinara scratched his chin nervously. “What I mean is, it’s very sad he didn’t live to see an age when hearts will be free to worship God as they see fit.”
“It IS a shame.”
“You’re not making this very easy. Not that I blame you. Chiefs come and go, and are soon forgotten. Busara had a different kind of greatness. When I die, I’d be flattered--no, extremely lucky if Busara even lets me bring his breakfast or run his errands.”
Kima looked at Kinara. "You killed him, didn't you?" she asked quietly.
"No! My bodyguards...." he stopped and looks at the ground for a moment. Sighs. "They acted on my command. I must pay for what I have done."
She took a digging stick and shoved him back against the wall, the point pressing against his throat. "Oh, you’ll pay, all right!”
“Please, hear me out!”
“If you were REALLY repentant, why not admit your guilt to the council and be punished? Give me one good reason why I should let you live.”
“For my son’s sake. Metutu would give up all that Busara taught him to support you and your daughter. Servants are not hard to find, but my son has a power and a calling I don’t understand. I must free him to do the work that Aiheu requires. Busara would have wanted it.”
She let the stick drop a little. “So if you cared what Busara wanted, why did you kill him? He was a kindly old graybeard who never hurt a soul.” She jabbed him lightly with the point of the stick. Clearly, she wanted to do worse.
“I thought he was corrupting my son. I love my son, and I would kill for him. You would have killed me to protect Busara. Even now you hold that stick like a lioness ready to strike. I can feel your rage, so akin to mine.”
“How could you know how I feel? How could you possibly know what I feel?”
“My Neema,” he said. Tears began to stream down his face. “If your husband had been alive, he could have saved her. I’ve done much mischief in my life, but I gave my family the same love you give your God. Now your God is all I have left.”
She wavered for a moment, then threw away the stick. “Very well. I will tolerate you, but I don’t have to like you.”
She got a basket for herself and one for Kinara. “Come with me. Be silent and see that we are not followed.”
She took him by a long, winding route toward the place where her husband used to gather Tiko root. She paused for a moment at the edge of the forest and looked down in the grass. She was very quiet and contemplative, so that Kinara’s curiosity was aroused.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. It’s just that her presence is very strong here.”
“Whose?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“The lioness, isn’t it. The stories were true, weren’t they?”
“Yes. She killed your two bodyguards. The one that stopped my husband and the one that hit him with the rock.”
The red patches on Kinara’s face were flushed. “So you knew all along.”
“Had you not come to see me, she would have killed you too. She loved him, in her own way as much as I did. She loved Asumini and I, but he was her special joy. When you had him....” She stopped herself. She felt of the spot in the grass and started to cry. “Damn you, Kinara for the pain you brought this family! We never hurt anyone--we were healers and teachers of the young!”
He touched her shoulder. “I’d give anything if I could bring him back.”
She jerked back. “You can’t! You will have to fill the hole yourself. You have been a taker all your life. Now you must be a giver like my husband, or Aiheu will ask for a reckoning. That is your one chance, and you’d do well not to trample it the way you trampled my heart!”
Together they went into the cool of the forest and sought out the rare mint.
CHAPTER 23: THE QUALITY OF MERCY IS NOT STRAINED
Though the path was deliberately long and winding, Kinara remembered where the mint was and had little trouble finding it again. Dutifully, he took his basket into the forest to gather the rare mint, and even sneak a small piece to savor its wonderful taste and aroma. While his sense of direction was good, his skill at escaping detection was not as well developed.
Coming from the forest, he had only traveled a short distance across the grassland when he sensed he was not alone. He began to glance about anxiously, his breath coming in quick tides. His pace quickened, and he knew his best hope was to get back to the cave as quickly as possible.
In the grass on either side, he could hear rustling. He began to run. Then all pretense of stealth was dropped and three mandrills came running after him. They quickly overtook him and while two held him by the arms, the third, a long time enemy named Jambazi, took his fist and plunged it time and time again into Kinara’s stomach. By the time they let him go, he crumpled into a miserable, moaning heap.
“Oh gods, help me!” he gasped. “Help me!” He lay there for several minutes before he could move. Then he slowly, painfully crawled about looking for the basket. It was gone, and the mint with it. He fell to the ground, exhausted.
Back at Busara’s cave, Kima was beside herself with anger and worry. “He’s been gone for hours! To think I was stupid enough to tell him where the mint was! To think I was stupid enough to trust him! He used me, the same way he’s used them all!”
The lioness Asumini rubbed against her. “I will kill him, honey tree. They will not trace it to you. He will pay for hurting my little Kima!”
“Not yet, my dear. Not yet. First I want to see him again and see what excuse he gives. It may be amusing to hear what lies he comes up with.”