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THE PROMISE
by John Burkitt and David Morris
Part Seven of Chronicles of the Pride Lands
FOREWORD:
IN APPRECIATION: To Trey McElveen who read and re-read the rough copy with a kindly but critical eye.
After the stylistic experiment of “The Leonid Saga,” it was comforting to return to something tried and true. But would be unfair to say “The Promise” was not experimental. All of the Chronicles stories have been like exploring new worlds. Even my most devoted fans--and some of them are very wonderful--could not enjoy reading these stories any more than Dave and I enjoyed writing them. I recall with misty eyes the joys and suffering of certain favorite characters. Once in “Under the Acacias” I strove to capture in one short paragraph the way I felt about Uzuri before finishing the main Chronicles series. It was my way of thanking her for all the wondrous experiences she had given me. The sky outside was soft and purple, and the stars were winking into splendor one by one. I sat at the keyboard and typed the one short paragraph:
“Inside the cave, Rafiki sat bent over with age. In his lap was Uzuri’s head. She was too old and sick to pretend anymore, and when Rafiki put his hand down to stroke her cheek, she took his fingertips in her mouth and gave them a gentle squeeze between her teeth. Tears welled up in Rafiki’s eyes.”
I wept. Her charm was a two-edged sword that cut both ways. One moment I was Makaka circling her warm, soft neck with my arms and listening to her soft breath. Then I was witnessing an intimate and tender moment of grief. When Uzuri died, I knelt, put my arm around Rafiki and hugged him. “Look at her,” I said. “Isn’t she beautiful.” Only he didn’t hear me or see me. That’s when it really started to hurt, for we had switched roles. I was the imaginary character, the shadow without form or substance.
Writing another story always seems to help. Depressed, I turned my eyes to The Leonid Saga, and then to The Promise. I hope my simple therapy makes you feel better too.
-- John Burkitt
Nashville, Te
Everyone who takes the time to read or write fiction of any sort has favorite moments that they enjoy, things that take on a new meaning and characters that stand apart from the rest of the text.
How do they do this? It goes beyond the magic an author weaves into his or her work and into the characters themselves. Like us, each of them has their hopes and dreams. And all to often, like us, those are disrupted by forces beyond our control and smashed to lie in pieces at our feet.
It is those who pick up the pieces and keep on going regardless that earn our admiration. Those that endure the pain because they know that pain is as much a part of life as pleasure, and that pain ca
Those like Mabatu and Isha.
-- David Morris
Wilmington, North Carolina 1997
CHAPTER: THE BEGINNING
"It was a hard journey they made, but one they walked
out of love for you."
The a
Still, out of love for Ela
With a cut on his muzzle and still panting, Taka crept up the side of Pride Rock and stalked into the cave, the badger dangling from his jaws. Ela
With the excitement of a puppy about to be fondled, Taka closed the remaining distance with ears erect and tail twitching. He dropped the gift at her feet and smiled. “Happy a
“Oh look, a badger!” She rose at once and rubbed him sinuously full length. Then she raised on her hind legs and put her arms around his neck, rubbing his face with hers and bearing him lovingly to the ground where she panted in soft leonine laughter. “You didn’t forget!”
“You’d better eat it while it’s still warm.”
“Forget the meat, my husband. Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“Every day. It’s what wakes me up every morning and it’s my lullaby every night.” He touched her with his gentle pink tongue and reached up with a paw to fondle her cheek. “Oh gods, I love you more than life itself!”
In the midst of their intimate moment, Isha came in. “Sire, there’s a strange lioness that wants to see you.”
“A strange lioness?? What does she want?”
“She won’t tell us.”
He nuzzled Ela
Taka headed to the mouth of the cave. A miserable creature was slowly trudging up the side of Pride Rock. “Who is that?”
“Her name is Kako,” Isha said. “She came from the east.”
He could tell that she was expecting cubs, but her face lacked the radiance lions called the “light in the eyes.” She slowly strode before the Pride Sisters, and each one dropped her eyes in turn. She was beautiful and noble in her suffering. Taka felt that he could relate to her somehow. He had known suffering intimately, and realized with a shock that he could almost read her thoughts.
She walked unsteadily to the mouth of the cave and looked in Taka’s eyes. “Please help me.”
Taka looked back into her hazel eyes. The sadness in them was overwhelming, but she managed to straighten herself and put forth some pride in her bearing. It was clear that she was used to being respected.
“My dear, what brings you to my kingdom?”
“I’m seeking a home.”
“Why are you homeless?” He looked at her with pity. “You have--you had--a mate. Did he die, or were you a rogue lioness?”
She looked at him directly in the eyes. “I am a good huntress--one of the best in these parts, and I can prove it. My name is Kako.”
“Well, Kako, you aren’t guilty of some crime are you? Or--ugh--sick with something catching?”
Again she looked at him unwaveringly. “If you don’t want me, I can move on. But I am not sick and I have committed no crime.”
“And you actually want to come here?” He glanced around at the hyenas and back at her. “Why, pray tell?”
She stood as regal and silent as a statue and kept looking him in the eyes. Taka could not explain it, but he felt a deep shame, a feeling of unworthiness he would have only expected from the white lioness herself. If she needed a home, somehow he must make provide one.
He glanced about at the other lionesses and could see expectation in their faces. Clearly this Kako had their sympathies. Besides, her blend of pride and sadness put thorns in his heart.
“Kako, my heart is not made of stone. You do not show me proper deference, but I will not turn you away. Will you accept my authority as your King?”
She gave a single silent nod.
Taka looked into her large, sad eyes and regarded the droop of her ears and tail. “I will respect your privacy and require my pride to do likewise. But may I hope to see you smile someday? Your sadness staves me through.”
Tears formed in Kako’s eyes and began to roll down her cheeks. She did not avert her gaze, though her chin trembled and her breath came in short gasps. Taka struggled to maintain his regal pose, even though silver tears formed in his eyes and worked their way down his cheeks. But after a few moments of exquisite pain, Taka had to look away. “Isha, Uzuri, see to her needs.”