Free to run, Gur’mekh beat a hasty retreat toward the clan territory with his companions. Muti would know what to do! Muti would know it was not his fault!
Perhaps this demon was stubborn and required a harsh regimen of fasting and ordeals. He would gladly do whatever it took to be rid of the spirit, assuming he could live long enough to find the way. The lion was not faster, but he would not stop.
“Roh’kash, why have you forsaken me! Great Mother, help me!”
Gur’mekh crossed the creek and headed up the eastern meadow. Then he saw Antelope Kopje on his right and the Clan Acacia on his left--right between the two of them stretched an invisible line where the lion’s territory ended and he was on his home soil. Ah, blessed sanctuary of home!
But Shaka crossed the border and continued into the Clan’s turf! He would not turn back! Gur’mekh had only three choices. He could find strength in numbers, and if that failed he could keep running until the lion tired and stopped. If that did not work, he could stage a last desperate battle for his life with his three companions. Good old Jalkort would not run out on him. The other two would probably run in different directions and leave them there to fend for themselves. At least good old Jal really loved him. Maybe--just maybe--they would live to see twilight.
Gur’mekh topped the rise that surrounded the elephant graveyard. He half ran, half slid down the other side, barreling toward the spot where his parents would no doubt be taking their evening nap.
Behind him, he heard a yelp. Turning his head, for one awful moment he saw Jalkort turning end over end down the slope, coming to rest in the dust, then trying to right himself. “Jal!! Get up!!”
Shaka pounced, and in one horrifying arc covered the distance to the unfortunate hyena. Jalkort found himself trapped under the awesome weight of Shaka’s front paws. The lion leaned back or he would have crushed him at once. He had other plans, and merely kept Jalkort gasping in a tight embrace of rage.
“You killed my wife!” Shaka roared. “You ripped out my heart, and I will rip out yours!” The lion looked at the terrified face and knew there was nothing more he could say to frighten him. “I give you a moment to pray to your god.”
Fabana watched, beside herself with terror. Jalkort glanced about frantically and saw her in the crowd. He silently mouthed her name, the cried, “Somebody help me!”
“You are trespassing on our lands!” Amarakh said. “You are holding one of my people!”
“He’s a murderer! He killed my wife in cold blood, and he was on my land! She had two cubs, Amarakh. Two cubs that won’t have a mother coming home tonight! She was alive when they ripped her! Alive!”
She looked at Jalkort. She recognized that he was one of Gur’mekh’s followers. “I will investigate it. I know him. He’s a trouble maker anyhow, and you can be sure I will punish him if he’s guilty.”
“IF??” Shaka glared down at his prisoner. “I saw him over her body. Zazu saw the kill.” Shaka bent down. “You tell her! TELL HER, VERMIN!”
Jalkort squealed, “Somebody help me!” He looked at Fabana, her anguish piercing him to the core.
“Husband! Why??”
In desperation, Jal saw Gur’mekh and looked into his eyes.
Gur’mekh could feel the agony. He considered rushing the lion to give Jal a chance to escape. After all, Jal took no part in the killing. Maybe a bite on the foreleg to make him let up for one brief moment. That’s all Jalkort would need.
He crouched, ready to spring. “Roh’kash, give me strength.” Suddenly his strength failed him. He didn’t feel too afraid to move, but he could not straighten his back legs. “Leave me alone, Melmokh!” he thought. “It’s MY neck, you fool! I can risk it if I choose!”
“Fool, am I? Who called a grand makei just to have an affair with a married ban’ret that hates him?? No, you’ll die when I’m good and ready. Right now, I want Jalkort!”
Amarakh said, “You can’t extract a confession to a murder by death threats. This is my land, and I give you my word we will investigate within the customs of our law. But you must let him go. Leave--now!”
Shaka said, “I do not believe you.”
“You are not in a position to negotiate. Leave at once. I will see your brother the King tonight. We will talk.”
Shaka wept. You are right. You are absolutely right. I am NOT in a position to negotiate!” Looking up, he cried, “Aiheu abamami!!” He swung down and with one snatch of his jaws severed Jalkort’s head.
Fabana ran around in tight circles screaming, “Oh gods! Oh gods!”
Gur’mekh rolled on the ground howling. The entity reminded him that “Isn’t it strange that your best friend happened to trip when he did? Such a pity. And right after you tried to exorcise me. You’d think it was more than a coincidence, wouldn’t you?”
“My gods!” Gur’mekh screamed. “No!!”
“Yes!! Oh, the sweetness of his suffering! I feel stronger, bolder, freer! And now watch the lion! How bravely he meets his death!”
The hyenas closed in on the lion, and Shaka died without much of a struggle. The entity began to giggle like a ban’ret on a hot date. “Look, Gur’mekh! See how a lion dies! Will you be that brave when your time comes??”
The Roh’mach prepared for the real backlash to come. In a state of heightened alert, the hyenas doubled the guard, closing off all entrances and exits from the Clan territory unless the proper passwords were given.
Gur’mekh sought out Fabana. He told her, “Fay, I want to help you.”
She replied, “The way you tried to help Lenti? And my name is FABANA to you!”
He followed her, persisting. “Look, I loved your husband as a brother. Ask anyone! I tried to help him just now, but....”
“But WHAT?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t understand!”
“I understand perfectly. Jal was your pal, as long as he was doing stuff for you. But the moment he got in trouble, you turn your back on him!”
Gur’mekh’s hackles raised. “To hell with you! I knew you wouldn’t understand! You can raise your own brats without my help!”
Fabana backed back, whining.
Tears came to Gur’mekh’s eyes. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” He began to sob. “Fay, I loved him! I really loved him! I’m sorry!”
“Yeah, well....” She backed off suspiciously. “Look, thanks for the offer, Gur’mekh. We’ll talk sometime, OK?”
She turned and hurried off, trying not to break into a run. But the intent was clear. She put a great deal of distance between herself and him, mixing with a large crowd where she could grieve in peace.
Then came the confrontation with Ahadi. Gur’mekh was hiding in his cave sobbing while the Lion King was demanding a settling of accounts and setting the ban. All Gur’mekh could think about was Jal’s haunting whimper as he peered into his eyes. “Jal, if you can hear me, I tried to help you! Oh gods, Jal! Jal!”
Ahadi made his demands clear. In response, Amarakh made clear demands on her people: someone must pay for the attack, or all would suffer.
Gur’mekh tried to find his parents. He began to work his way through the crowd. Before he was successful, the Roh’mach called out assembly.
“I don’t have time for this!” He kept working his way through the crowd.
“Come to order!” the Roh’mach called again. “That means you too, Gur’mekh!”
The Roh’mach lined up everyone. Amarakh said, “We are in desperate times. If we don’t find out who lead the hunting party, we’ll all have to suffer for the actions of a few. I cannot stand by and see the innocent suffer with the guilty.”
Ber spoke up. “Roh’mach, we have a seer whose innocence is beyond dispute. Why don’t we have her hunt down the guilty party?”
“Shimbekh? Excellent suggestion, Ber!”
Ber leered at Gur’mekh, and watched him squirm with all the glee of a wrestling pup.
The hyenas were lined up by Ber and Amarakh, and each one had to look Shimbekh in the eyes. There was no adequate defense except possibly love. “Shimbekh loves me,” Gur’mekh thought. “Surely to God she won’t betray me!”
Gur’mekh glanced nervously down the line as Shimbekh counted off the hyenas, one at a time, marking them with a pawprint in Shaka’s blood. It was the red badge of their innocence. For one frantic moment, Gur’mekh considered blaming it on Jalkort. He was dead anyhow--his suffering was over. But he thought about Fabana and her unborn pups. She would surely be exiled to scrabble for leavings in the desert. In desperation he bit his own leg--deeply--marking his cheek with a bloody pawprint.
“Hey Gur’mekh, your leg is bleeding! How did you do that??”
Gur’mekh jerked his head to look at Korg, who stood next to him, looking at him curiously. “Hsssh, Korg! Not so loud! You know good and well what I did. And just you keep your silence.”
Korg shook his head sympathetically. “You should have that looked at.”
“I will later.”
“But it’s serious.” He bent his head to examine the wound closer.
“I’m serious. Drop this conversation!”
Korg sniffed of his wound, spreading the blood with his nose. “Looks bad for you, fellow!”
Gur’mekh to slapped him with a paw. “STOP!”
Heads turned. Now Gur’mekh was the subject of scrutiny by dozens of hyenas. He began to tremble, then as Amarakh drew close to him, he panicked.
Gur’mekh tried to run, but his leg cramped up. He was quickly overtaken and stopped by bared teeth on all sides. Pushing through the crowd was Shimbekh. He tried not to look in her eyes.
Shimbekh finally secured a straight-on stare into his eyes. “Did you lead the attack?”
Gur’mekh squirmed as he felt the first touch of her mind. Gentle but insistent, he felt the probe of her psyche like a gentle tickling in the back of his head.
“You know this is necessary. Be calm--just relax....”
Her thought broke off abruptly. Her mind’s eye opened and she saw the struggling lioness crawling through the grass, her shattered jaw dripping blood and saliva on the ground. She saw Gur’mekh move forward, and heard the lioness’s dying shriek.
“Oh gods, nephew!” she thought. “Why?!”
“She was dying anyhow!” Gur’mekh said aloud. “In the name of the gods, there is no way she could have lived!” He fought frantically with teeth and paws, but was grabbed roughly by the throat and choked into submission.
Shimbekh stood over him, her face twisted in pain as she touched his mind again. “The deed is done. I will pray for you, nephew, for there will be a reckoning.”
Gur’mekh looked up at her, eyes pleading. “Please,” he thought frantically. “Lie, do something!! It was not my fault! Can’t you see it was Melmokh! Melmokh!”
“I can see that, but there is more to it than that. More that you’re not telling me. He couldn’t force you unless you had sinned.”
“They’ll kill me! Oh gods, I don't want to die! I was turning my life around! I tried exorcism! Tell Muti I was forced to do this! Tell her, Shimbekh! I can’t control myself anymore! Don’t you love me anymore? You said we’d always be friends--you PROMISED!!”
“I will pray for you,” she repeated, tears staining the dark gray fur of her cheeks to black. “Maybe death will set you free.”
“Please! Please no, I’ll do anything! Just let me talk with muti first! Please! Just five minutes!”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Shimbekh broke contact and turned, looking to the Roh’mach, who stood by, waiting. She shuddered to say the words. “Gur’mekh is guilty.”
Amarakh glared down at him. “You’ve been a thorn in my side long enough. This time you went too far, and you will pay for it.” She jerked her head. At the signal, three guards strode forward and seized Gur’mekh at various points with their powerful jaws, not breaking the skin, but firmly enough that he realized he could not escape. The guards pulled him firmly along.
“Look at him!” Ber shouted to the pups that huddled by him. “That’s the devil that murdered your father!”
Kambra fell on her back and began shrieking uncontrollably. Gur’bruk stared into space, a look of hopelessness on his face. “Not my son,” he stammered. “Why, God? Why my son? Why??”
Kambra tried to push through the crowd, but she was held back. “Gur’mekh! Oh gods! Let me pass--I must see him!”
“Mother!”
Shrill laughter echoed in his mind as he was led away. The Makei told him, “After all, it was your destiny to look off Pride Rock.”