"I see." He chuckled lightly, trying to put her at ease. Grunting with the exertion, he knelt slowly, laying his staff beside him. Bending over her, he stroked her cheek with his hand. "Rest easy, Akase. All will be put right soon enough." His smile faded away. "Courage, now."
She nodded, closing her eyes. She began breathing rapidly as Makedde began to run his sensitive hands gingerly down her ribs slowing as he neared her belly. She growled involuntarily as he drew his hand across her abdomen. Makedde was shocked; the flesh was burning hot to the touch and enormously swollen, more so than her state of pregnancy could account for. As he reached her navel, she cried aloud and he jerked away, startled. "Forgive me, Akase. I do not mean to cause you pain."
"I.....know, old friend," she gasped.
Metutu was equally disturbed; Akase's flanks were matted with blood; enough that the lioness was dangerously weak. He looked up at Makedde and shrugged helplessly.
The mandrill nodded and turned back to Akase. Selecting a couple of herbs, he tapped her on the nose gently. "Now see here. I want you to leave these under your tongue. They are bitter, but they'll make you feel a little better. Okay?"
She nodded, opening her mouth. Makedde slipped the herbs in place carefully, his dexterous fingers avoiding the enormous fangs easily. Rising, he patted her cheek. "You rest easy now, while Metutu and I go talk." Motioning to his brother, the old mandrill led him outside.
Blinking in the bright sunlight, they nearly collided with Avina. The lioness sat in the entrance, staring into the depths of the cave miserably. "It's my fault, isn't it?"
"What?"
"If I hadn't gone and gotten hurt, she wouldn't have been worried sick about me this morning. That's what did it, isn't it?"
"Nonsense." Makedde patted her consolingly. "You might as well blame yourself for the dry season, or making the wind shift while you're stalking. You had nothing to do with this, Avina, it just happened."
“Will she be okay?"
Makedde sighed. "I just don't know right now." Excusing himself, he drew Metutu away. The younger mandrill strained to hear his brother's voice.
"It will be all I can do to keep her comfortable until the inevitable happens. She will lose the children."
Metutu shook his head violently. "No! There must be something-"
"Hsst! Keep your voice down!" Makedde looked at him sadly. "Brother, as yet I have been unable to find a cure for her. For years I have searched. After they lost their first litter, Ahadi and Akase waited patiently while I searched, but at last I admitted defeat. And I cannot blame them for trying; the drive of life is strong. Who knew it would happen again?" He covered his eyes with a trembling hand. "And this time, it's worse."
"How so?"
"Akase has lost too much blood already, and she has begun to run a fever. She will probably not survive."
A deeper voice spoke from behind them. "Then it is as I feared."
The two spun to see Ahadi standing a few feet away. "Sire," Makedde stammered, flustered. "I simply meant...."
Ahadi raised a paw to silence him. "It has been a long time since we have had to mince words, you and I. Let us not start now." He sighed deeply, shuddering, and a single tear slowly tracked down from his eye to darken the fur on his cheek. "I have sat here and watched as she grew weaker and weaker. Even as you looked upon her she was slipping away." Ahadi cleared his throat. "All I would...." He stopped, momentarily, then continued. "All I would ask of you is that you make her last hours peaceful ones. Will you do this for her?"
Makedde swallowed and nodded slowly. "Everything will be done. Come, my lord, let us go to her."
Picking up the painkillers from Metutu's crude satchel, Makedde motioned to his brother to wait there. Turning, he followed Ahadi as they paced slowly away.
Entering the cool dimness of the cave, Makedde made his way slowly over to Akase, Ahadi alongside. The king followed unwillingly, each step heavier than the last, until he felt he would sink through the rock floor. Bending down, he nuzzled his mate. "Akase?"
"Hmm?" The lioness opened her eyes and looked at them. "Cnn I shpt vese out?"
"Oh!" Makedde nodded. "Certainly." He cupped a hand under her jaw as she daintily spat the leaves into his palm. "Feeling better?"
She nodded. "A little. It doesn't hurt as bad, but it still hurts. Thank you for trying, though." She fixed the mandrill with an uncomfortable gaze. "What were you two whispering about out there?"
Lion and mandrill looked at each other uncomfortably. "My lady, I'm not quite sure how to say this..."
Akase chuckled softly, wincing at the effort. "Oh, Makedde. I know that my life grows short. I shall see Aiheu's face soon enough, no doubt." She looked back along her side wistfully. "I only wish I could have spent some time with my children..." Her eyes glistened as she shook her head.
"Oh gods!" Ahadi bent low and laid his head alongside hers, weeping openly now, uncaring. "Beloved, I'm so sorry. It's my fault. I never should have touched you."
Akase lifted her head to look at him. "Nonsense. How can you say that? In the time I’ve spent with you, I’ve known the love of a dozen glorious lifetimes.” A tear tracked down her cheek. "I just wish I could have borne this one litter. I wanted to give you a son, my love. Oh, Ahadi, if anyone is to blame here, it's me. You should have married another." She bent and hid her face from him, shuddering. “When I am gone, that is what you must do. I will look down on you and bless your union.”
The lion reached out with his paw and stroked her face tenderly. "Now look who's talking nonsense. There could never have been another. I could have lived without a son. But you I cannot live without." He blinked back tears. "If I could have but one wish from Aiheu, it would be that we both go together."
"Ahadi..." Akase nuzzled him and kissed his cheek. "You are too young to die just yet."
"So are you."
"Well, then, we need prayers, not tears." She lay back down again, stroking his face with her forepaw. "Go on, love. I'll be all right for a little while longer."
Ahadi glanced at Makedde, who nodded silently. "Very well. Rest easy, beloved." Kissing her cheek, he followed the mandrill out of the cave.
Metutu watched as the two of them emerged quietly and walked a short distance away, muttering softly. Embarrassed, he realized the two were deep in their prayers and turned away hurriedly. He moved away until he was out of earshot and sat down, taking a deep breath of air and letting it out slowly. The late afternoon breeze blew his hair gently about his neck and shoulders, cooling, but not comforting him. He picked up his mortar stick and idly began to trace aimless circles in the dirt as he looked out across the savanna, seeing in the distance his beautiful baobab home. Glancing down, he stared silently at what his roaming hands had unconsciously drawn in the dirt. An inward drawing spiral with lines radiating from it. He recognized it well; it was one of the first icons Busara had taught him in his apprenticeship; the maishamazingo, the great Circle of Life.
The vein in the center of Metutu's forehead began to throb in time with his heartbeat. Leaping to his feet, he seized the handful of sand and dirt and cast it away angrily, obliterating the icon. "No! It's not right! It's not Akase's fault! Why?" Realizing the other lionesses were staring at him, he stalked away, making his way along a steep, winding path that led to a granite shelf that jutted out away from the Rock. Sitting on his haunches, he clasped his knees to his chest. Huddled up, he stared out at the open plain. As his eyes roved about aimlessly, out of long habit he absently began identifying the various plants he saw and cataloging their various uses.