The Spirit Quest cotpl-2

by John H. Burkitt

“Perhaps too much. I spoke rashly. Just how rashly depends on your answer, so speak very carefully my son. Are illness and death Aiheu’s punishments for sin, or do they often happen to the innocent?”

  Makedde gave Kinara a little pat. “Dad, bad things happen to good people in this world of pain, but the kingdom of Aiheu is ruled by love alone, and there is no suffering. Pray to him, and even here in this land of suffering, he hears everything you say. Sit and face the earth and repeat my words.”

  Kinara knelt and touched the ground with his forehead.

  “Into your hands accept her spirit, she who filled the earth with beauty.”

  “Into your hands accept her spirit,” Kinara stammered. “She who filled the earth with beauty.” He burst into tears. “Please God, whomever or whatever you are, be kind to her! Oh please! Pull this thorn from my heart!”

  Makedde put his arms around his father and began to sob.

  A quiet moment passed, then Kinara said quietly, “I want to give my life to him. I know now that there is no Pishtim, there is only Aiheu. Will he accept me?”

  Makedde kissed him. “Before you ever believed in him, he believed in you. Before you ever loved him, he loved you. And before you ever accepted him, he accepted you.”

  Kinara took Makedde’s hand very tightly in his own. “As God has accepted me, I must accept others. There must be freedom to worship as we see fit.”

  CHAPTER 21: SETTING THE RECORD STRAIGHT

  High Priest Kasisi called an emergency meeting of the council. Without Uwezo and Doya, Kinara was helpless when the scribes came to summon him none to gently to appear.

  Kinara had been the focus of many council meetings, but never before had he seen so many cold stares and curious leers when he walked into the circle. And the most icy of stares came from the High Priest.

  “I answer the call. Now what is required of me?”

  “Only one thing,” Kasisi said. “One very important thing. The most important thing.”

  “Cut to the chase,” Kinara snapped.

  The High Priest said, “It is fine if other peoples rebel against the True God, Pishtim. But not the people he has chosen as an example to the world. If they are not loyal, they will be punished. Their wives will sicken and their children will die. That there is no chief with the right to rule that does not willingly cry, ‘Great are you, Pishtim, God of Gods, Light of Lights, Creator of the Universe!’” He comes toward Kinara. “Already your wife has died for your lack of piety. And do not think the grief will end there if you will not pledge your loyalty. But even now, all could be forgiven if you will take my sacred rattle and swear your allegiance to Pishtim.”

  He started toward Kinara and held out the rattle. Kinara took it and said, “Listen all of you. I speak before the gods my unbreakable oath.” He looked at the severe smile of triumph on the priest’s face. “I, Kinara, chief of the tribe, tell my OLD FRIEND Kasisi that he can go STRAIGHT TO HELL!”

  Kinara smashed the rattle on Kasisi’s head. When he fell back, a couple of mandrills rushed to lift him up. There was a hush in the crowd. An ant toiling on a leaf cutting could have been clearly heard.

  “There is no God but Aiheu!” Kinara boomed. “God of Gods, Light of Lights, Creator of the Universe! Blessed be the father!”

  “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.”

  “Still, I think a good quick bite to the neck will do him a world of good.”

  “You’ll get your chance, I promise.” Kima reached down. She could feel the soft warm fur of the lioness and it gave her comfort. “You keep me sane, old girl. The kindness my husband showed you has been repaid many times over.” Kima smiled. “You must tell me all about it when you get through with him.”

  Just then, a strange sound came from outside the cave. Kima got up and came to the mouth of the cave. She saw something moving toward her and ran to investigate. It was Kinara crawling on all fours, blood oozing from the corners of his mouth. He heard her approach and looked up pitifully, holding out a trembling hand. “Kima, help me!”

  Kima reached down and grasped his hand. She lifted him carefully to his feet and let him lean on her as he staggered into the cave. “What happened?”

  “Jambazi found me. The coward had two of his friends with him. He won’t face me alone.” He wretched. “Thank the gods they don’t know where the mint is--I’ll never tell them even if they kill me.”

  “Forget the mint,” she said. She got a gourd full of water and washed off his face. “Lie still on the bed! I will get you something for the pain.”

  She mixed him a special tea, and got him some fresh grass for the bed. It was not long before he began to show improvement. “Thank the gods for you, Kima!”

  “You were gone so long, I was worried about you.” She quietly resolved never to tell him what she had discussed with Asumini.

  “My enemies. Once there was fear in their eyes, but now they only laugh at me. Look at the old fool!” Tears well up in his eyes. “How low I have fallen!”

  He got his strength back overnight, especially when Kima worked his injured stomach and gave him a powerful soporific tea that made him sleep dreamless and deeply like a stone all night long.

  The next morning with a resolve that was reminiscent of his old self, Kinara took the basket and started to leave again.

  “You must be careful.”

  “I will. I’m not going to go without a good hard stick. I’ll pound them into the ground!”

  “We should tell the scribes and have them arrested.”

  “The scribes would not help me. They hate me.” He patted her hand. “I learn who my true friends were too late.”

  She shrugged. “Take care.”

  Kinara left with his basket. Kima watched him from the cave mouth until he was far afield. She looked down at Asumini. “Follow him.”

  Stoically, Kinara took another path. With the stick at his side, he felt a little more brave. He glanced about, anxious to spot trouble and change his path if necessary.

  But without warning, an arm reached out from a bush and grabbed the club from his hand. “I was just thinking I wish I had a good club. And there it was!” It was Jambazi. He stepped out to face Kinara, and his two toughs came out quickly and cut off his escape.

  They laughed and shoved him back and forth.

  "You know, I tend to get what I want. I wanted a club and I got one. And right now, I’m in the mood for Tiko Root. You know, maybe a sprig or two. Maybe more? Know where I can get some?”

  “Maybe from Makedde. My son keeps it in stock.”

  “Maybe I want mine picked fresh, old fool. Where can I pull a sprig or two?”

  “I don’t know, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

  “Oh you know, and you’ll tell me.”

  “For the gods’ sake, leave me alone! I’m trying to help out a widow!”

  “Oh, well if that’s all.” The leader makes a gesture. Without a word, the other two grabbed his arms and held him tightly. “As I see it, you killed Busara. We could help the old widow by sending her your ears in a gourd--or maybe your heart.” He laughed. “Of course we might work out something less violent. Maybe we could work out a trade here.”

  “You don’t want to help her,” Kinara said. “You just want to steal her Tiko Root.”

  “Aw, listen to that, guys! I’m hurt! Really wounded!” Jambazi drew up close to Kinara. “Fact is, we’re going to prove how wrong you are.” He pokes him in the stomach with the stick, making him yelp. “You’re going to show us where the mint grows, and we’re going to protect it for her. Understand?”

  “I understand perfectly.” Kinara spit on him.

  Jambazi wiped his face off, and with a forced grin said, “I think it’s time we taught you manners, old fool!” He felt of the stubs of broken branches on the end of the large stick. “Interesting possibilities, eh? Now where do we begin, Kinara? On the stomach, or on the ribs?”

  He drew back the stick. “Answer me quickly, or I’ll do both.”

  Jambazi felt a slight tug on the end of the stick. He tried to swing it, but it was caught on something. He looked around but saw nothing. “What the hell?”

  With a huge yank, the stick came flying out of his hand.

  “What are you doing?” one of th
e other bullies asked.

  “I don’t know!” Jambazi began to back away. Maybe he knows magic, deadly magic. “Yeah, it’s either him or us!”

  “But the root!”

  “Forget the root!” Jambazi took a sharp-pointed digging stick that he wore around his waist and lunged at Kinara. Something sharp and thorny grabbed his ankle and he fell flat on his face.

  Turning over, he looked up into empty air. Something heavy bore down on him. He looked around for his friends, but they were gone. “Oh gods! Oh gods! Something’s got me! Come back! Help!”

  "So you like to beat up old folks?” a lioness’ voice growled. “Try me on for size!”

  Jambazi dropped the stick and began to cry. “Don’t hurt me! Please don’t hurt me! Let me go!”

  Hot, meaty breath enveloped his face, gagging him, and a voice spoke in his ear:

  "If you or anyone else so much as touches a hair on Kinara's beard, there won't be enough of you left to make a meal for a jackal. You’ll be sure to tell your friends now, won’t you?

  “Yes ma’am!”

  “Now GET OUT!"

  “Yes ma’am! Thank you, ma’am!”

  As soon as Jambazi felt the weight lift from his chest, he scrambled to his feet and ran back toward the village.

  Kinara stood quietly, afraid to move. He saw the footprints approach, then stop in front of him. A warm tongue bathed his hot face, and the smell of wild honey gently enveloped him. A faint shimmering outline appeared, and coalesced into Asumini's form.

  “So the rumors are true.” His jaw trembled. “You saved me. I owe you my life.”

  “You owe Kima your life. I’m just along to make sure you pay up.”

  “Is that the only reason?” He reached out and stroked her cheek and the top of her head. "Can it be that there is forgiveness for old Kinara yet?"

  The lioness shook her head. "No."

  His face fell. “Then Aiheu has rejected me?”

  “He has rejected the old Kinara.” A smile appeared on her face as she slowly helped him up. "You have rejected the old Kinara as well, so take heart."