The Leonid Saga
( Chronicles of the Pride Lands - 5 )
John H. Burkitt
David A. Morris
Мифы и легенды Pride Lands...
THE LEONID SAGA
By John Burkitt and David Morris
A Part Five of Chronicles of the Pride Lands
FOREWORD BY THE AUTHORS:
This is a return to my roots as a fanfic author when David first expressed curiosity about the spiritual and mythological dimensions of Chronicles. Now I take the luxury of exploring those themes in a way that will help you share in the legacy a lioness would seek to pass to her cubs.
These stories are arranged in a way that makes the most sense. The storytellers themselves came from different times, and as you recognize old friends from the Chronicles series, you’ll notice that the times the stories were actually told would suggest a far different arrangement.
In three ways I put myself at risk before you. First by attempting to carry forward a self-contained story cycle. Second by undertaking a work that requires a different style. Third, by holding my personal ideas and feelings up to public scrutiny. The lions have a belief that if you can look at your reflection in the water and say something to it and not have to turn your glance away, then it must be so. I look at this reflection of mine and say, “I will take the risk,” and I do not turn away.
John Burkitt, Nashville, Tennessee
March 23, 1997
The material you are about to read represents a lot of history. In the simplest fashion, it is the history of the Leonid Saga, a tale of the heroes, villains, and events that are shrouded in mystery and spoken of as legends from lions and lionesses to their cubs.
It is also a deep personal look into John and I. The stories that follow have ranged the entire gamut of our “Chronicles” series...but most of them are what originally inspired us to tell the tale in the first place.
We invite you to share them with us.
David Morris, Wilmington, North Carolina
March 23, 1997
PROLOGUE:
Makaka slowly and reverently ran his fingers over the body of Uzuri. As his tears splashed on her fur, he remembered many safe and happy times he had spent as a child hugging her strong, soft neck and snuggling to her side to sleep. But most vividly in that moment, he remembered her quiet voice telling him stories under the stars.
“Now you are with Mano and Minshasa,” he whispered. “Now they will be more than stories to you.” He caressed her cheek gently and sniffed back bitter tears. “Oh Momma, my love will find you wherever you are. And someday, I will find you too.”
The lionesses Misha and Swala came solemnly to move the body of their pride sister to its final resting place. Misha gently but firmly gripped one of Uzuri’s front paws, and Swala grasped the back of Uzuri’s neck. At a given signal, they both pulled backwards, and her body lurched forward about half a length. Makaka gasped in horror.
“Oh gods, don’t hurt her!” Makaka fell across the body and clung monkey-like to her neck. “Don’t bite her! Look, there’s blood on her neck! Oh gods, she’s bleeding! She’s bleeding!”
“It’s just her body,” Misha said soothingly. “Her Ka is in Heaven with Aiheu.”
“But there’s blood on her neck! Look, she’s hurt! See??” His hands reached for his throat and he began to gasp for breath. “Oh no!”
“Remember your asthma!” Swala said, nuzzling him softly. “Relax, Honey Tree! Try to relax!”
Makaka stared wide-eyed at the entrance of the cave, struggling for breath. His thin, ineffective gasps could not fan the flames of life, and he began to crawl in torment toward the one person that knew how to help him. He could not even call her name.
“Anasa! Come quickly!” Misha shouted. “He needs you!”
Makaka’s wife rushed in with a pouch she always carried with her for just such an emergency. She reached with trembling hands to sort through the different cures and finally pull out some silvervein leaves. She crushed them between her fingers, and putting an arm around her husband, she held the aromatic herbs in front of his nose and mouth till the minty smell permeated his lungs. The look of glazed panic left his eyes and his breathing became more regular. “There, my dear. Relax, honey tree. Everything’s going to be all right, my poor, dear husband! Breathe deeply. That’s it, darling. Deeply and slowly like crystal clear waters from a spring. Think about the spring, the calm, deep spring, and let the waters slowly carry your pain away.”
Between the silvervein and her gentle love, Makaka relaxed and began to take deep and regular breaths.
Anasa nodded at Misha, and the two lionesses took up their stations again. With a powerful effort, they started Uzuri on her last journey.
When Makaka found his tongue again, he shuddered and said, “She was bleeding! Oh gods, it was awful!” He looked down at his palm where the red bloom of her lifeblood lingered still. “She’s gone. All that’s left of her is a few drops of blood!”
“I cut a lock of her fur,” she said quietly. “She had me take it just for you yesterday. She knew the end was near.”
Makaka took the golden treasure and scented the familiar fragrance. His chin trembled and tears streamed down his face. “You don’t know how much this means to me. Thank you!”
Anasa put her arms around him and let him weep on her shoulder. “Husband, you really should thank Misha and Swala. Uzuri only stayed here because they promised to take her away, and now they’re going to have to drag her heavy body clear out to the eastern meadow. All this so you and Rafiki could spend a few more moments with her.”
“You’re right,” he said, reaching up to dry his tears. “Poor Misha and Swala! I treated them very badly.” He sniffed back tears. “I’ll give them some of the jerky that I was saving for the cubs. They really are good friends.” He managed to regain some of his composure. “Oh, I’ve been such a fool. I hope I didn’t hurt their feelings.”
“They will understand.” Anasa put her arm around his shoulder and held him near. “They love you, and so do I.”
He clung to Anasa and kissed her softly. “My little Nisei. What would I do without you?”
“I hope you’ll never know,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “We’re in this to the end.”
THE LEONINE STORY OF BEGINNINGS:
“When you are a King, forget not that the Antelope graze on
your ancestors!”
-- Wisdoms of Jabani
Ahadi sat on the tip of the promontory, bathed in the warm glory of the morning sun. Young Mufasa was as close to the edge as his father would allow, watching at the distant herd of wildebeests. Their movement across the plain mesmerized him as the herd changed shape like a single dark cloud. Taka was snuggled between Ahadi’s arms, his back and head buried in the soft mane that wrapped his father’s face. Ahadi looked down at Taka and quietly kissed him between the ears. There was no need to say anything in that moment, and Taka simply rubbed his face against one of Ahadi’s powerful arms and touched it with his tongue.
The morning lesson had to come soon; before long, Mufasa would be too engrossed in games and adventures to concentrate on learning. Were Taka an only son, things would have been much simpler, for he was blessed with the patience and curiosity of his mother. He absorbed knowledge as dry earth absorbed rain.
Ahadi looked into the distance at the setting moon, and a slight wind stirred his mane as the morning winds ushered in the new day. “From the start there was Aiheu the Beautiful,” Ahadi said. His voice could be loud and commanding but that moment it was as soft and pleasant as a warm hug.
“Aiheu was the first of the living and the cause of all life
. He had many spirit children, and he shared his love and knowledge with them. It was a happy time, but still unfulfilling for the lives of spirit children were of thought alone. And Aiheu sensed that his children were longing for something more.
“So Aiheu went to the world of Ma’at which at that time was completely dark and sterile. He put two lights in the heavens, the sun and moon. And the brightness of the sun caused the water to form clouds, and wherever the clouds rained on the dry earth, green plants grew. And so in time the world of Ma’at was changed from ugliness into beauty.
“And Aiheu summoned his spirit children to show them his work. The beauty of the land was the first thing they had ever seen, and they were very pleased. For a time, they explored the world, some preferring the skies, others the ground, others the trees, and others the waters. And yet they were still unfulfilled, for the sun did not warm them, the breeze did not cool them nor the waters wash them, and they could not feel the grass beneath their feet. And they asked Aiheu, ‘What does this land have to do with us? We are strangers here.’ So Aiheu moistened some soil with water, and with his hands shaped the first bodies. Some were fish, others birds, and others the animals that walked on land and climbed trees, each according to the domains they were created for. When he breathed into the bodies, they took on life and became dwelling places for spirit children. Because they were finally part of the world, they could feel the warm sun, the cool breeze, the waters and the grass. They had these and many other pleasures, but they were given a warning. The price of pleasure is often pain. And it was not long until they had all felt pain, yet they assured Aiheu that pleasure was worth the price. This was the first agreement, that pleasure is worth pain.”
Taka nudged his father’s leg. “Why did some spirits want to be birds, and some want to be fish? I was just born this way and I didn’t get to choose. Did they get to choose?”
“That’s a good question. Why do YOU think they chose the way they did?”
“I don’t know. I mean, who’d want to be a bird when you could be a lion?? They’re safe and their strong, and they’re so cool.”
“And they have to outrun dinner, and they get gored by impalas and they don’t know what it’s like to fly. Aiheu gave blessings to all his children.”
“Oh.”
“Are you happy being what you are?”
“Sure.”
“Why, if I may ask?”
“Because if I was anything else, I wouldn’t be your son.”
Ahadi cuddled him next to his heart with his broad, strong paw and purred deeply. “And I wouldn’t be your father, so we’re both glad.” He nudged Taka and smiled slyly, pointing at Mufasa. Unaware of his audience, Muffy kept glaring at the wildebeest herd as his father continued in a normal teaching voice:
“Lions have several blessings. They get to eat dirt and roll in elephant dung. And when they’re really lucky, they get to jump in the thorn bush and flop around until their hides are red with blood. ISN’T THAT SO, MUFFY??”
“Of course,” Mufasa said, looking around. “Everyone knows that.”
“You do that as often as you should, don’t you?”
“Uh, yes sir. Maybe I forget sometimes, but not very often.”
Taka began to giggle and roll on the ground. “Eat dirt and roll in the dung!”
Mufasa looked at his brother sharply. “Well, maybe I missed a little bit.”
Ahadi nodded with a wry smile and continued. “Now that we’re all listening, understand that those bodies of Ma’at were not permanent. Earth, water and air may only rest apart. When they are mixed, they become restless and strive to separate. That is why death and decay are part of the world, for the elements will eventually prevail. Aiheu knew this, so he took steps to prevent the world from becoming sterile. He went to the Lake of Mara and changed its waters into the first milk. And all animals were brought together to drink from it.
“Milk fertilizes animals the way rain fertilizes plants, for it makes soil, water and air content to mix for a time. And all those who drank milk obtained the gift to produce milk in their bodies. The milk of the male could awaken new life in his mate, and the milk of the female could sustain it. For no living thing except Aiheu can create life from the ground by breathing into it. This was the second agreement, that life should always continue.”
Mufasa rolled on his back and looked up at his rudimentary teats. “Gosh, I didn’t know we could give milk!”
“Further back, nit-wit,” Taka said with an amused smile. “Gods, sometimes you act so dumb! When you get married, you sit on your wife’s tail and she’ll have babies!”
“Taka!” Ahadi shouted with a frown.
Taka flattened out on the ground, glanced at his father’s stern face, then looked away and shuddered. Indeed he looked so miserable, Ahadi could not remain angry and he came and nuzzled him.
“Son, we’ll discuss it later. Some things you need to hear from your father, not your little friends.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“No, son. Surprised maybe, but not mad. But don’t ever call Muffy a nit-wit. Sometimes he has a little trouble paying attention, but he’s bright and what’s more, he loves you very much.”
Mufasa glanced at Taka plaintively, then shyly looked away. In his own way, his feelings were as easily hurt as his brother’s, but he had different ways of showing it.
“Come here, son. Well, Muffy?”
Mufasa looked at Taka, then looked away, and crept to his father’s side. Ahadi nuzzled him. “I’m sure Taka is very sorry he said that.”
Taka looked down and very quietly, very shyly said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you a nit-wit. Friends?”
Mufasa waited a while--he felt that Taka deserved to squirm for a moment.
“Well, son?” Ahadi nudged him and nodded slightly. “Do you accept his apology?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Ahadi smiled wryly and nudged him. “You guess so?”
“Okay.”
Taka hopped up and down. “Oh goodie! Does that mean I get a big wet smooch?”
“I’ll smooch YOU!” Mufasa shouted, charging. He tangled with Taka, wrestling with abandon and giggling.
“STOP!” Ahadi was livid. “Not up here! My gods, do you want to fall off and get killed??”
Mufasa looked back at his left foot. Two of his toes were actually over the edge, and trembling he crouched and slinked away from the sheer drop-off.
“Now then, let’s finish the lesson while I still have my nerve.” Ahadi looked off the promontory, cringed, and took in a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh.
“The world was very large, but it was not without limits. So Aiheu offered his children two paths. Either they could choose who may carry on the line, or they could all be treated equally and Aiheu would find another way to control them. And they all said, ‘Treat us equally,’ for no one wanted to be the one to live alone. So Aiheu chose some animals to be hunters and others to be hunted that they may keep the earth in balance. Thus arose all the peoples and their ways that carry on to this day. This was the third agreement, that a full life involves struggle.
“Aiheu separated them into two groups, and one group dwarfed the other. ‘To the greater group, I give the plants of the field and the fruits of the trees. But lest you strip the earth of all green things with your offspring, I give the lesser group a taste for blood. To them I give the eaters of plants.’
“Some of the plant eaters were upset and cried out to God that they should not all die. To this, Aiheu answered, ‘I offer you to the hunters, but they must catch you first. Be vigilant, wise, and careful, and you will not perish from the land I give you.’”
Ahadi looked at Taka and Mufasa. “What does this mean?”
“Me, me!” Taka chimed.
“Let your brother get this one.”
Mufasa thought for a moment. “Well, I think....”
“Go on.”
Taka huffed. “He wasn’t paying atten
tion!”
“No, Taka. Let him take his time.”
Mufasa said, “It means that God is fair. It also means that we’re all really brothers, and even though we kill antelopes and eat them, we shouldn’t hate them because they’re people just like us.”
Ahadi smiled and nuzzled him. “That’s EXACTLY what it means. See, Taka, your old father doesn’t have dim children!” Ahadi nuzzled Taka. “Do I, Taka?”
“Oh, Dad!”
“Well??” He began to tickle him.
“I guess not. He he!”
“You guess not??”
Giggling and squirming, Taka said, “OK, OK! He he he! Cut it out, Dad! Daaaad!”
“Well all right then!”
When Ahadi sat upright again, Taka quickly sat back against his father’s chest and snuggled into his mane.
“And when Aiheu had set this into motion, he showed them that it was not random, but part of his plan from the beginning. The cycles of birth, growth, death, and decay were like four legs—they had to work together to travel anywhere. Yet from his steadfast love, he would have his children accept the three agreements of their own free will.
“Some beings did not choose to accept these agreements. These spirit children were the first Nisei, which are the good spirits which oversee the balances of creation. They are often called the minor gods, though they are truly brothers to the animals. The major gods arose from the lake of milk, and they were all kindly like Aiheu.
“Then one day Koko the gorilla came along. He wanted a son, though no female would pledge to him. So he made a crude baby out of mud, but not having the wisdom of Aiheu it was only in the outward shape of one. He threw the mud into the lake and it melted, spoiling the milk. From the fouled milk of Mara arose the terrible race of the Makei. Just enough mud had been cast into the lake that they could take the shapes of Ma’at, but not the substance. And while they longed for pleasure, they were unable to experience it. Grief and anger, however, were theirs and they plumbed them to the depths for only when they were sad or angry did they feel alive.
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