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Skulk spat at him derisevely, but departed willingly enough. The old monkey never fought back anyway, and there was little sport to be had in trying to provoke him.

Rafiki looked at Krull, his intrest piqued. “Why do you restrain them? Why not let them pound me into the ground?”

“There is no honor to be found in assaulting a helpless old monkey.”

“Helpless?! Give me my staff, and I will show you how helpless I am!”

“Calm yourself, old one. It is not hurt I need from you, but healing.” He winced, squinting, and Rafiki saw the faint discharge from his left eye. “I thought I had chaff in my eye, but it hurts even worse now than it did yesterday. It requires the services of a healer.” His good eye looked into Rafiki’s. “If you are as good as they say you are, it won’t matter that I am a hyena.”

Rafiki’s features softened. “I don’t know about ‘good,’ but it does not matter what you are as long as you feel suffering.” The hyena sat as he began to examine the eye gently.

Krull peered at him curiously from the good eye. “Why does Scar hate you so?”

“Hasn’t he told you?”

Krull chuckled lightly. “Let us say for now that he has not. What would you tell me?”

Rafiki stopped his minstrations. “I would tell you that I am partly to blame.” He looked away. “I had toyed with powers that I did not fully understand, and gave a foothold to the curse that burns him.”

Krull’s good eye opened wide. “Hfff! Honest little chap, aren’t you? And yet a half-truth is like a half-carcass--it can be dragged twice as far.” He grinned at Rafiki for a moment, then grew somber. “Tell me about this curse--help me to understand it.”

Krull cursed inwardly as he recalled uttering those words. Oh, he had found understanding, all right-in the form of servitude to the mandrill which lay asleep across the baobab from him. He watched the gentle rise and fall of Rafiki’s chest; he appeared to be in the grip of sleep. The peace of night surrounded him on all sides; he might never get another chance like this. Who knew what bewitchment the old monkey might thrust upon him when he awoke? Better to leave now. He rose on silent feet, his eyes gleaming in the dark.

A few feet away, Rafiki muttered restlessly in the depth of his dreams. He chased Taka through the grasss, the little cub laughing delightedly as his Uncle Fiki stumbled through the plants trying to catch him. Grinning, Rafiki pounced, lionlike, sailing through the air to land upon the cub and seize him in his hands. “Gotcha!”

The cub turned to face him, still giggling, but then his smile faded. His body swelled under Rafiki’s, growing until he was dwarfed by the body of a full grown lion. The skin over the left eye split, forming a horrible scar. The young eyes became ancient, filled with fear and loathing as he stared up in horror at the old mandrill. “You did this to me! All your fault, Uncle Fiki!” he screamed hoarsely. “All your fault!”

Rafiki jerked upright, bathed in sweat. Panting heavily, he saw Krull leaning over him, looking worried. “Great Roh’kash, what is wrong with you? Are you posessed?!”

Rafiki reached over with a shaking hand and picked up the leather locket which had slipped off in the night. “No,” he said, putting it back on. The feeling of terror diminished rapidly, and his breathing eased. “Thank you, Krull. I’m sorry I woke you.” He patted the hyena’s shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”

The hyena felt a wave of shame as he padded back to his corner and lay down. The old monkey was obviously terrified out of his wits about something, yet he was upset about waking Krull up!

Over the next few weeks, Rafiki became more and more of an enigma to the hyena. Many of the odd stories he had heard about the mandrill paled next to the truth, while still others turned out to be bald faced lies. Krull discovered an outlet in talking with the old shaman, one he had never enjoyed in the company of his bretheren.

Late one summer’s eve, the two were sprawled comfortably in the naos of the baobab, relaxing in the balmy air. The talk wandered aimlessly, and they found themselves discussing the differences in their females.

The hyena asked casually if he had ever been married, and was quite taken aback when he learned of the death of Asumini and Penda. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, son.” Rafiki glanced at him. “And you?”

“Nope.” The hyena grinned to himself. “Though I came mighty close. I escaped by the grace of the gods, and by virtue of a weak stomach.”

“What?!” Rafiki perked up.

“Well, it’s a long story-”

“We have plenty of time.” Rafiki grinned maliciously. “Tell me.”

Krull was silent for a moment as he remembered what had happened. “We have a ritual in our clan for those members who have gone three years and remain unmarried. This is called "Spunking" and it is a jolly prank-unless YOU are one of the unmarried ones.” He chuckled lightly. “It takes place on a night of the full moon. The poor males are brought into a ring of spectators. They want to pick the most level headed male and female, you see, so they have each of them spin around tightly three turns, then run across to the other side of the circle. Spin three times, run back.”

“Oh gods,” Rafiki said, laughing.

“That’s what I said.” Krull grinned and shook his head. “The male that is left standing when the others have stumbled woozily staggers over to the unmarried females. He gets to pick, though she has the right of refusal. They are encouraged NOT to refuse by their parents who would be responsible for their upkeep for another year. They then after a rest, they send the males back out for another go at it. If a male throws up, he is automatically disqualified for that season.”

“Sounds fair,” Rafiki snickered. “So what happened to you? Did she refuse?”

Krull flushed underneath his gray fur. “Uh, well no. I was staggering all over the circle, and finally made my way over to where the females sat. When the Roh’mach asked me if I was okay, I...” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously with a forepaw. “I sorta barfed on her.”

Rafiki clutched his stomach and howled, his eyes watering. After a minute, he regained his breath and patted the hyena on the shoulder. “Not to worry, son. I’ll bet you made it the next season.”

“Yeah, I did. But she turned me down.” He looked at the ground, embarrassed. “You can’t force someone to love you back, though you can try to sway them.

Rafiki’s smile vanished. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We still see each other. I mean, her husband and I are best friends. We share everything right down the middle.”

“You mean?”

“Heck, if she’d married me, he would have expected no less. Friendship is important among our peoples.”

“That’s nice,” Rafiki said, shaking his head and scratching his beard. “Whew, there is a lot I have to learn.”

Krull looked at Rafiki with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He began to snicker.

Rafiki looked at him crossly. “Why you old scoundrel--you’re pulling my beard!”

“YOU didn’t know I was kidding, and I’M the old scoundrel!” Krull laughed. He had a pleasant, infectious laugh and Rafiki was sorry he’d not heard it before. “I’m already spoken for. Her name is Brill. If my own brother touched her, I’d bite off his tail and shove it up his nose!”

Rafiki smiled. “Well spoken! So her name is Brill, eh? What does that mean?”

“It means beloved.”

Rafiki smiled wistfully. “That is a good name. In our tongue, it is Penda.”

“Your daughter?”

“Yes, Krull. Thank you for remembering.” Rafiki gave Krull an affectionate pat. “Once a leopardess taught me that other people have feelings too. How quickly we sometimes forget.”

CHAPTER 46: MINSHASA’S AUGURY