Broken Pride

  Fearless rolled and staggered to his paws, just in time to see the first lioness deliver a brutal swipe of her claws to the hyena leader’s flank. It gave a screeching yelp of pain, scrabbled out from under her, and fled, tail between its legs.

  In moments, it was all over. Seeing their leader put to flight, the other hyenas yammered and bolted after him, leaving two of their number lifeless and bloody in the dust. As the sound of their racing paws and their whimpering yelps faded, silence fell.

  Fearless staggered toward the first lioness. “Thank you. I didn’t—I couldn’t—thank you.”

  She turned, her body lithe and elegant, and paced toward him. The bright river of stars picked out her pale gold muzzle and reflected in her dark liquid eyes, and as he looked at her properly for the first time, Fearless gasped.

  She halted as he did, her eyes widening in astonishment. “Fearless!”

  All the terror of the tunnels drained from him, replaced by the shock of joy.

  “Valor!”

  CHAPTER 12

  The two lions bounded to each other, colliding in an ecstasy of happy greeting. The hyenas forgotten, Fearless rumbled with joy, licking his sister’s ears, rubbing her face with his.

  “I can’t believe it!” he gabbled. She was fully grown now, strong and still bigger than him, but her eager caresses were gentle and loving. “Valor, you’re alive!”

  “And so are you, Fearless!” She laughed. “Sisters,” she called to the other lionesses, “come over here! Do you remember Fearless, my little Swiftbrother?”

  “The one we thought was dead?” A dark-furred lioness trotted up in surprise.

  “Yes!” growled Valor happily. “But here he is!”

  Fearless blinked, recognizing the other lioness. “Honor, it’s you!”

  All five of them bustled around him, licking and nuzzling, and Fearless growled in sheer happiness, reveling in their affectionate greetings.

  “Agile! Sly! Regal!” he rumbled. “It’s so good to see you again.”

  “And it’s wonderful to see you,” growled Regal, swishing her tail. “But we’ll let you and Valor talk—you were both Swiftcubs, after all. You must have a lot to tell each other.” She nuzzled him fondly, then padded away with her three friends to inspect the two battered hyena corpses.

  Fearless turned back to Valor, who was gazing at him with shining eyes. “I can hardly believe it’s you,” he murmured, touching her nose gently with his own. “I thought you and Mother were dead. Did you get away from Titan?”

  “I wish we had,” she rumbled, pressing her light gold face to his. “No, Titan and his cronies forced us to stay. I think they would have killed us, but Mother convinced Titan to let her live for her hunting skills.”

  “And you?” He rubbed her neck.

  “Mother told Titan she’d teach me to be a fine hunter too. So he spared my life, and now I hunt with the other lionesses.” Valor laughed softly. “Though we didn’t expect to catch a lion!”

  “Where is Mother?” asked Fearless suddenly, glancing at the other lionesses. “Why isn’t she hunting with you?”

  Valor closed her eyes. “Life in Titanpride is . . . difficult, Fearless.” She licked her jaws, as if what she had to say was hard. “Titan has a favorite mate, Artful. Artful isn’t a great hunter; she’s too lazy. She was jealous of Mother’s skills—so she attacked her one evening. And . . .”

  Fearless felt a sick, plummeting sensation in his gut. “And what?”

  “She blinded her,” said Valor sadly. “Mother can’t hunt anymore. And Titan has threatened to drive her out of the pride unless I catch enough prey for both of us.”

  “If he casts her out now, she’d die!” exclaimed Fearless.

  “Yes.” Valor sounded tired and miserable; Fearless realized belatedly how exhausted she looked. Her muscles were still lean and strong, but her coat had lost its luster and her eyes were hollowed.

  “I have to see Mother!” he growled.

  Valor’s eyes widened with horror. “No, Fearless, you mustn’t.”

  “What’s that you’re saying?” Honor padded over to them, the other lionesses behind her. “Go back to the pride? Don’t even think about it, Fearless!”

  “Titan will kill you,” growled Sly.

  “Yes,” said Valor urgently. “He won’t let a son of Gallant live.”

  “But the way he’s treated Mother!” snarled Fearless. “He can’t get away with it!”

  Valor shook her head. “What could you do about it? You’re not nearly fully grown! You must stay away from the pride, Fearless—at least for now.”

  She’s right, he realized, as the surge of righteous rage drained out of him and hopelessness seeped in. Valor is still bigger and stronger than me—if she can’t confront Titan, what could I do? After all, he’d been confident that he could tackle the hyenas. Rushing in to fight Titan would be the last thing he ever did. His mood dark, he slumped into a crouch.

  Valor licked his head gently. “Don’t think about it just now, Fearless. It’ll drive you mad. Now, tell me how you survived! What happened; where did you go?”

  Rolling onto his side, he gazed wryly up at her. “You won’t believe this—I was carried away by an eagle and left in its nest.”

  “What?” Valor’s jaw fell.

  “Which is where a troop of baboons found me. And I’ve been living with them ever since.”

  All the lionesses were staring at him now, their eyes huge and astonished. “You have baboon friends?” gasped Regal.

  “Do you live in the trees?” asked Agile, gaping.

  Fearless shook his head, amused. “No, but I live in the forest with them, and I protect the troop. The Brightforest Troop; they’ve been—they’re like family. It works really well.”

  “That’s”—Valor licked her jaws—“amazing. But wherever you live, you should go back there for now, Fearless. And you should eat before you go. There’s no sense letting those two hyenas go to waste. There’s not a lot of prey around right now, and they won’t taste very good, but . . .”

  “Starving Swiftcubs can’t be picky.” Fearless joined in to say it in unison with his sister, and they both gave rumbling laughs. Then he hesitated, licking his jaws uncertainly. “But if prey is scarce, shouldn’t you take these back to Titan?”

  Valor shook her head. “We’ll take one of them, but we’ll have time to hunt for more tonight. Go ahead, Fearless.”

  Fearless needed no second invitation; he padded over to the hyenas and began to eat hungrily. The flesh tasted bitter and strange, but he didn’t care. The lionesses joined him, tearing off an occasional strip for themselves. They were very curious about his new life with the baboons, and he told them what he could between mouthfuls.

  There were the Starleaf’s stories of the Great Spirit, always told in the twilight as the troop settled for the night. There was the fun and excitement of sentry duty, when he would make sure his scent clung all around Tall Trees to deter hostile flesh-eaters. He explained how the baby baboons would cling to his belly, mistaking him for a grown baboon. He described Stinger and his passion for scorpions; he told them about the plants the Goodleaves found for the troop, to rub on their fur to keep the biting flies away.

  “And of course I can’t rub the leaves on myself,” he added, “so Thorn and Mud do it for me. They’re my best friends. Almost like brothers.”

  “It sounds as if you’ve found a home,” said Valor softly, with a hint of sadness. “I’m glad.”

  “Valor,” said Agile at last, standing and stretching, “we do still need to hunt. Titan won’t be pleased if we come back too late.”

  “Yes, I know,” sighed Valor. Rising to her paws, she gazed at Fearless. “We should go.”

  “It’ll be good when the grass-eaters come back to the watering hole,” remarked Sly. “Finding food will be so much easier.”

  “I can’t wait,” agreed Honor. “Good-bye, Fearless, and don’t go back to those hyenas!”

  Fearless stoo
d up, blinking at them. “Where should I go, then?”

  “Back home to your baboon family.” Valor laughed gently, shaking her head again as if hardly able to believe it. But his sister’s voice held kindness, and she still lingered, giving him another farewell lick. “This troop obviously takes good care of you. You’re lucky they found you.”

  It was what he’d always believed, but somehow, the words sounded hollow for the first time.

  “Come on, Valor,” urged Regal.

  Valor sighed and turned. In single file the lionesses padded away, and as Fearless watched them vanish into the night, he wished with all his heart that he was going with them.

  Bark Crownleaf had told him he needed to be a lion. Now, for the first time, he was beginning to think she was right.

  Fearless’s heart lifted a little as the dark green lushness of Tall Trees came into view, but that seemed mostly relief at the end of his adventure; the sight of his home didn’t give him the spring in his step that he would have expected only a day ago. As he padded closer, he could hear the chatter and whoop of the baboons as they caught sight of him; the noise increased as the news spread through the troop, and by the time he was among the trees, every baboon seemed to know he had returned. Thorn and Mud emerged from a date palm thicket; they exchanged an oddly apprehensive glance before brightening and bounding toward him.

  “You’re back!” hooted Thorn, flinging his arms around Fearless’s neck, then swinging up onto his back. “Oh my, Fearless,” he gasped. “Are you all right?”

  “What do you mean?” Fearless asked.

  Thorn had hopped off and was tracing his forepaws across Fearless’s flanks. “You’re covered in cuts and your fur is torn.”

  “What happened?” asked Mud. “Did you find the hyenas?”

  Fearless glanced at them sheepishly. “I did,” he said. “It was a fierce fight.”

  “And did you beat them?” Thorn bounced at his side. “Come on, we want to hear everything!”

  “They . . .” Fearless licked his jaws. He was ashamed to tell Thorn and Mud about his humiliating failure, but he had to tell them something. “I don’t think they’ll be a problem anymore,” he said at last, with as much swagger as he could manage.

  “Ah, I knew you could do it!” Thorn slapped the lion’s neck with his paws, and Fearless tried not to grunt in pain. He padded on, head low. He was glad the two baboons couldn’t see his face right now. I just want to forget what happened.

  “It’s good to be home,” he told them cheerfully. “All I want is to go back to normal life with my troop.”

  Thorn fell silent, and at last Fearless glanced back, in time to catch his friend exchanging another look of unease with Mud.

  “What? What is it?”

  “Fearless, we, uh . . .” Thorn seemed unusually tongue-tied; Mud just cleared his throat and averted his eyes. Puzzled, Fearless glanced around at the baboons in the trees, and it finally struck him: No one else came to welcome me. They called the alarm when I arrived, but now? The troop looks quiet.

  They didn’t only look subdued, either; some of the baboons were glaring at him with outright hostility. Some turned away as he approached; others—the members of the troop who’d always been friendliest to him—looked too embarrassed to speak to him.

  “Thorn,” he growled, “what’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” began Mud unconvincingly. “It’s just that . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “Fearless, there’s something we’ve got to tell—”

  But before Thorn could finish, Nut came bounding through a clump of ferns, a broad grin on his muzzle. “Hey, Big Talk! Have you heard the news yet?”

  “What news?” Fearless stared at Nut. Thorn and Mud stood on either side of him, looking angry and protective.

  “Shut up, Nut!” snapped Thorn. “It’s not right for you to tell him!”

  Nut opened his jaws mockingly and seemed about to say more, but at that moment Stinger came hurrying across the clearing, his face drawn. He placed a large forepaw on Fearless’s neck.

  “Fearless! I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” Fearless had a sick feeling in his stomach.

  Stinger chittered his teeth in distress. “Fearless, you can’t stay here. You’re going to have to leave. I’m so very sorry.”

  “Leave?”

  Fearless’s throat dried. For an instant he had the wild notion that Stinger meant he should leave this clearing—go to his own sleeping area, maybe, or the Council Glade—but the misery on the baboon’s face shattered that faint hope.

  “You mean, leave Tall Trees?” Fearless growled. “Leave Brightforest Troop?”

  “Oh, Fearless,” said Thorn, turning to him and rubbing his shoulder. “It happened while you were away.”

  “Grub organized a vote,” Stinger told him grimly. “About whether you should stay in the troop or go. Many baboons wanted you to stay,” he said hurriedly. “But . . .”

  “But more wanted me to go.” Fearless curled his muzzle. His shock drained away, replaced by sharp bitterness.

  “You will always belong with Brightforest Troop,” said Stinger, his eyes fierce with emotion. “I believe that.”

  “And so do we,” said Thorn, nodding at Mud. “We’re furious. About the result—and about Grub holding the vote at all, when you weren’t here to defend yourself.”

  “We couldn’t stop him,” said Mud in a small voice.

  “Of course you couldn’t.” Fearless dipped his head to nuzzle him. “Don’t worry, Mud. It’s not your fault.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” the little baboon wailed. “None of us do.”

  “I don’t want to leave,” sighed Fearless. “But it looks like I don’t have a choice.”

  “Listen to me. You’ll be fine.” Stinger reached out to lay a paw on his muzzle. “I honestly didn’t think you’d survive a confrontation with the hyenas—but here you are, Fearless. You’re strong and resourceful—it’ll be all right.”

  “But where is he supposed to go?” asked Thorn angrily.

  “Don’t worry,” Fearless told him. “Honestly, Thorn. I’ve got some good news. While I was out there, out on the plains, guess who I met? My sister, Valor!”

  “You did?” exclaimed Thorn. “She’s alive? That’s great!”

  “Yes, and the other lionesses of Gallantpride.” Fearless decided not to mention the part where they’d saved him from certain death at the jaws of a hyena pack. “But the pride’s in trouble. Titan’s a terrible leader. So I’m going back to my pride to help them.”

  Stinger scratched his broad shoulders thoughtfully. The sunlight streaming through the leaves picked out the silver thread of his scar. “Well, Cub of the Stars. When you were tiny, and I rescued you from that tree, you told me you were going to take your pride back. It would certainly be wonderful if you did it one day.”

  “I remember that.” Fearless smiled. “And one day I’ll make good on it. I’ll beat Titan, and I will take back my pride.”

  Thorn flung himself forward and hugged Fearless’s chest tightly. “I know you will.”

  Fearless, feeling choked, bent to lick his friend’s furry head. “I’d better go—before Grub comes to throw me out.”

  Thorn looked miserable as the other two hugged Fearless. “I’ll come with you. As far as the watering hole.”

  Fearless nuzzled him. “I’d like that.”

  It helped, having Thorn at his side as he walked out of Tall Trees for the last time. Fearless’s heart didn’t feel as heavy as he’d expected. Of course he ached with sadness, but only at leaving behind Thorn and Mud and some of the others. I wouldn’t have lasted long with Grub as Crownleaf anyway. Better this happened sooner than later.

  “I don’t care what Grub says,” announced Thorn as they left the forest behind. He clambered onto Fearless’s back, and the two of them set off across the savannah at an easy stroll. “And I don’t care what Nut thinks, or any of the others. We’ll always be friends, y
ou and I.”

  “Of course,” rumbled Fearless.

  “If you ever need help, promise you’ll come and find me.” Thorn paused, making Fearless halt and turn to look into his eyes. “Promise?”

  “Yes.” Fearless nodded. “And the same goes for you, Thorn. I’ll be there if you need me.”

  They traveled on in silence for a while, Thorn gently grooming Fearless’s neck. Fearless felt soothed, and quite sanguine about his sudden exile. It hurt that the troop didn’t want him, but perhaps he’d been meant to meet Valor when he did. Seeing his sister had changed something inside him. Would I have been happy, he wondered, if I’d stayed with the Brightforest Troop forever?

  Maybe it really was time for him to be a lion.

  Still, when the watering hole came into sight at the horizon, Fearless felt an intense twinge of sadness; soon he’d be parting from Thorn, and they’d each move on to live separate lives.

  He stopped to stare ahead. Watering hole didn’t really do this place justice, he decided. It was a silver lake, fringed with date palms and crotons and scrub acacias; there were several bays, bare of vegetation, that were pockmarked with animal tracks. He could make out well-worn paths through the scrub, and scars and smooth patches on bark where animals had rubbed themselves. The water itself was an enticing vision, rippling and glittering as they drew closer. Though the rains had softened the grassland’s arid yellow, the greenness of the lake’s stumpy trees and bushes stood out, vivid and lush with fresh foliage.

  Fearless came to a halt at the water’s edge. Thorn’s paws grew still against his neck fur, and they watched the play of silver light in entranced silence.

  It’s beautiful, thought Fearless sadly. I guess it’s a good place to say good-bye.

  But the two friends had stood there for only a few moments when they were disturbed by a rumbling sound. It drifted from far across the plains, and it was growing louder. Thorn furrowed his brow, twisting to peer at the horizon. Fearless drew himself taller, tensing his muscles, narrowing his eyes at rising clouds of billowing dust.