Mark of the Lion (17 page)

“Well, if you keep that on, I doubt
anyone
will approach you,” he said with a laugh.

The
ngoma
officially began as the Kikuyu warriors and maidens formed one large ring around the small fires. Several venerable old ladies sat inside the ring. Chaperones perhaps, thought Jade. They occasionally took wood from the large pile and fed their smaller fires. One man in the ring began chanting. The dancers stamped one foot forward, then stepped back forcefully on the other. Their bodies rocked fore and aft gracefully to the rhythm of the song. After a while, they began to move slowly sideways, still facing the ring’s interior. An older man beat a goatskin drum in time. Once in a while, an exuberant young man leaped and twirled about.

Jade listened closely to the chant and tried to make out the words. She was naturally gifted with languages, and her understanding of Swahili had improved rapidly since her arrival in Kenya. Unfortunately, they sang in their own Kikuyu language. Madeline explained that the song probably recounted killing the hyena as well as the evil done by the hyena.

Gradually, the dancers broke into smaller rings around each fire and chose a preferred group or style of dancing. Other men took up the chant and recounted other tales. Little children ran from one group to the other with glee and imitated the steps of the young men and women. Harry explained that this was, in fact, a small
ngoma
and that the harvest ones were very large and involved many neighboring villages. He added that the dance would continue until dawn and suggested they ride back before it became too late.

Jade made her farewells and thanks to the chief and the other elders in her broken Swahili and reluctantly left the village. There was something very dignified in the sedate dance style around small fires, and she keenly felt the honor given to her. She raised her head a little higher, and the night sky, set pavé-style with the gems of Africa, drew her attention.

The Southern Cross sparkled overhead in splendor and ruled the southern hemisphere with the Milky Way draped as its train. Scorpio sprawled out closer to the horizon, its whiplike tail ready to sting, but Sagittarius held his bow in front, ready to destroy the scorpion. Jade wondered what names and stories the Kikuyu or the Maasai gave to these constellations. Would Scorpio be a cobra or mamba snake? Would Sagittarius be a famous chief?

She looked around for any other familiar constellations and found them behind her. The Great Bear still pointed the way north, and Draco still wrapped itself around the Little Bear. She pivoted in her saddle to ease her neck, looked northeast, and picked out Leo racing above the eastern horizon. Jade touched the mark on her wrist. It seemed Leo was her personal constellation now, but she found she missed Orion, the first constellation her father taught her after the two bears. She missed David, too, and wondered if he watched from the back of Cygnus, the swan, as it flew across the heavens. What other constellation could a pilot choose?

 

So the woman had protection, did she? Well, it was only Kikuyu magic, weak like their warriors, he thought scornfully. Had it protected any of them so far? No. Even his teacher’s magic was weak compared to his own. He was stronger because his hate was greater. Suddenly, a new thought entered the man’s brain. Perhaps this woman had strength, too, strength born of courage. That would make the Kikuyu shaman’s ointment more potent.

The man found it difficult to believe that any woman had strength. They all tended to be weakened by their emotions. Why would this one be any exception? Still, he had underestimated this one’s bravery. Through his beast’s eyes, he had witnessed her coolness and heard her sharp, commanding voice through his animal’s ears. Perhaps, he mused, she should be tested … tonight.

THE EXCITEMENT OF THE
NGOMA
SUBSIDED much like the spent energy of a flash flood, and like a flood, it scoured out hidden nooks and recesses in Jade’s mind. It swept away the thin cavalier veneer, uncovered memories and raw emotions, and left her feeling exposed, drained, and utterly fatigued. She retired to her hut and pulled the bamboo door shut behind her. Since she had brought no change of clothes along, she limited her night preparations to slipping off her boots and standing them on the chair with her hat on top. Then she lay down on the cot in her trousers, shirt, and stocking feet with her Winchester beside her and listened to the night sounds.

Somewhere in the distance, a male lion announced himself with a deep, throaty roar. Percy took up the challenge from his pen and roared back lustily. The bellowing challenges continued for several minutes and finally ended in a series of deep, husky
harrumphs
that chugged like steam engines. Jade smiled. Percy still held his territory even if he had no harem of lionesses to defend. A night bird called in high, piercing trills, and Jade succumbed to sleep.

In her dreams, two sorcerers battled, transforming objects into an array of animals amid puffs of chalky powders. One grizzled and evil-looking witch with a raw red scar across his pale chest raised his hands high above his head and called up a hyena from the dust. The ugly brute shook itself and cackled its hideous laugh before it devoured three entire goats.

The second sorcerer, a shriveled old man, smeared Jade with a sticky paste, and she watched her body cover itself in a tawny fur. The new lioness slew the hyena as it lay on the ground, bloated and heavy with its victims. She roared her triumph, feeling the power well up from her chest and out her throat.

The scarred witch shook with fury and locked his hatereddened eyes on Jade. Without breaking his hypnotic stare, he conjured up a massive, black-maned lion to attack. It grew out of the constellation Leo as first one star and then another took on muscle and sinew. The beast roared down at the earth, shattering the night sky with its thunderous bellow. A rain of falling stars cascaded to the ground and caught fire in the dry grass.

The lion leaped to the burning ground and padded around. Intense roars from his cavernous mouth announced his prowess. The footfalls of his huge paws sent tremors along the earth, and Jade felt the shock ride up her spine. She couldn’t move. His deep, huffing grunts rasped out of his massive chest as he dared anyone to attack him. Then he, too, locked his amber eyes on Jade and tensed his hind limbs.

On her cot, Jade shivered and tossed as the dream grew more threatening. She tried to shout, but the cries strangled into a whimper in her throat. Then the soft sound of fur brushing against wood woke her. For a moment she lay still on her back and tried again to separate reality from the nightmare. The sound repeated itself. Jade froze.

Something scrabbled and scratched with large claws at the bamboo door. She strained her ears to listen. To her horror, the sound wasn’t outside her door. It was inside. Something had pulled the door open and slid past it into her hut. Its footfalls, though muffled on the dirt floor, sent shock waves up the cot’s legs and jarred her aching knee. Jade had prior experience with prowling, nocturnal black bears. This animal was a quadruped and a large one at that.
A lion?

The distinct musky aroma of a male animal mingled with the sickening scent of carrion. Jade forced back the nausea rising in her throat. She’d never felt so helpless. Air raids, artillery fire, and exploding shells never shook her as did this silent, stealthy padding in the dark. A cold sweat trickled down from her forehead and dribbled into her eyes. She tensed to keep herself from the convulsive shivers that threatened to give her away to the beast.

The animal stopped moving. She felt its warmth inches from her face.
Get a hold of yourself. Think!
A sudden move for the rifle would only alarm it. Jade wasn’t sure what the reaction of
this
animal would be but doubted it would hesitate or run like a black bear.
Cats like moving prey.
She lay perfectly still and prayed it was only Biscuit wandering loose in the night.

She listened in vain for the cheetah’s purr. The beast brushed against the cot beside her and moved the bed with its bulk. Her rifle clattered to the floor. A snarl was followed by a throaty growl that rumbled like thunder. Both sounds spoke of menace.
It’s not Biscuit. Did Percy get loose?
Visions of Colonel Patterson’s man-eaters ran through her head, which swam in dizziness. Perhaps if she startled it with a sudden shout she’d have time to grab her rifle.

Hot, wet breath blew across her face, down her chest, before the beast sniffed at her belt. The creature snorted loudly in disgust and backed abruptly away. She heard the sound of the chair shifting, another violent snort, and the animal bolted out the open door.

Jade forced herself to sit up. She pivoted around on the cot and grabbed her rifle from the floor. Moonlight filtered in through the cracks and the open door. Her eyes adjusted to the darkened room and picked out discernible shapes from indistinguishable shadows.
Empty!
And the door was ajar. She raced over and stared out into the night.
Why is it so dark?
She looked up at the black, empty sky.
Where are the stars? Was the dream true? Did they really fall?

Jade gagged from the fear knotting her stomach. One hand clasped her rifle and the other grabbed the door and quickly pulled it shut.
Why is there no way to bar the door from inside?
She removed her belt, slid it between the bamboo poles of the door and the hut, and tied the door shut. Then she collapsed back onto the cot and let her muscles give in to fear’s quaking aftershocks.

Somewhere in the night sleep overtook her again, but it was fitful, and she woke often. At dawn, Jade got up and reached for her boots. Her hand stopped in midair. Before her loomed the muddy print of a huge cat’s paw stamped on the chair. Jade remembered Biscuit’s feet. Not only were they smaller, but a cheetah’s claws didn’t retract. They would have left scratches or muddy traces. These claws were retracted; a lion’s print, and a monstrous one at that.
Percy?

Jade pulled on her boots and hat, untied the door, grabbed the belt, and ran out of the hut towards the animal pens. Percy sat in the middle of his locked cage, serenely washing himself. He looked at her calmly, then returned to licking his tawny sides. Jade looked at the dirt in the pen, hoping to find the red mud that her nocturnal visitor had left behind.
Dry!

A wild lion had found its way into her hut last night.
It stalked me, just like in my dream!

Jade suddenly recalled the animal had sniffed her belt and snorted in disgust. She brought the belt, still gripped in her hands, to her face and inhaled. The pungent odor of the sorcerer’s paste emanated from the leather. She found herself considering the genuine protective properties of that concoction with gratitude.