Oathkeeper Page 5

  Mighty halted. All Fearless could see, a little in front of his muzzle, were Mighty’s colossal paws. His whiskers twitched with nerves. Those long and powerful claws had sprung out of their sheaths.

  “I do not come to challenge you,” Fearless said, as meekly as he could. “I come to you in peace, Mighty, because I need to talk to you. About something that threatens all of us—every Bravelands pride.”

  Mighty’s claws raked deeper into the red earth, but he didn’t lunge. Fearless risked glancing up, to meet his eyes at last.

  He licked his dry jaws. “Titan is alive, Mighty, and more dangerous than ever. He’s stronger than ever, and he’s made an alliance with the golden wolves. It’s time for true lions to come together.” Fearless gulped. “I came here to warn you, Mighty, nothing more. I want us to agree to a truce—an alliance. We can protect one another.”

  “Titan’s more dangerous?” Mighty’s deep rumble was skeptical, and a little threatening. “That’s not what I’ve heard. My scouts tell me that he’s lost his entire pride.” He paused. “To you.”

  Fearless blinked. He was reluctant to admit that he had not taken his brand-new pride in a traditional fight, that the lions had actually left Titan’s control for a quieter life.

  But right now, appeasing Mighty was more important than Fearless’s dignity. “That’s not . . . not quite what happened,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “But you have Titan’s pride.” Mighty tilted his head. “They’re yours.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “There are those who would say,” Mighty interrupted smoothly, “that I should kill you on the spot, Fearless. Not just for your insolence in coming onto my territory, but to protect my pride in the future.”

  Fearless fell silent under Mighty’s piercing glare; it seemed like the best strategy right now. He had not expected this, and he had not planned his reaction. Mighty had once been easygoing and good-natured; pride leadership must have taught him to be far more aggressive and suspicious.

  “Mighty . . . I respect you as leader of your pride. I respect your authority, and I have no wish to challenge it, now or in the future.” Fearless felt his heart beating rapidly. “In normal times I would never have come here, I promise you. But these are not normal times, not for any animal in Bravelands. Titan does still have a pride—but a pride of wolves! How is that right?”

  “Wolves?” Mighty gave a grunting, menacing laugh. “I don’t fear wolves!”

  “You should,” said Fearless quietly.

  It was the wrong thing to say, and Fearless knew it immediately. Mighty drew himself up, his muscles rippling beneath his pelt. Fearless had never really taken in before how massive he was.

  “Who are you,” growled Mighty, “that you stride into my territory and tell me what I should fear? Who are you, Fearless, to think you can make me afraid of anything you choose?” He placed one huge paw deliberately forward. “I have put up with you this long, cub, for your sister Valor’s sake. But I will not be ordered around by an immature male who’s only just sprouted a mane!”

  Fearless found himself trembling, but he made a huge effort to hold his ground, gazing up at Mighty. I’m not that much smaller than he is. And my mane is almost full! Slowly, he calmed his breathing. “I apologize, Mighty. I shouldn’t have said what I did. But I know Titan, and I’ve seen with my own eyes what he’s capable of. He kills animals only so that he can take their spirits into himself. He eats their hearts, and with every one he grows more powerful. And he has eaten many hearts.”

  “And I am Mighty.” With a thunderous roar, the huge lion struck the ground with a paw, sending up a cloud of dust. “If Titan dares to enter my territory, I won’t show him the same forbearance I’ve shown you. I will kill him.”

  What could he say? Fearless thought. Mighty refused to be told, it was as simple as that. There was silence on the plain as all of Mightypride watched him, and the sun beating down on his back felt heavy and oppressive. Even Keen did not rush to his support, as he would have in the past.

  But why would he, now? It’s not how it was, and it never will be again.

  Again Fearless wondered, with a strange and sad detachment, how many friends he would lose to his quest to bring down Titan. It didn’t matter. Or it did, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “How is Valor?” he asked quietly at last. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen her.” He turned his head to peer at the lions in the long grass, then at the ones who sprawled in the acacia shade, but there was no sign of his sister. Would this new, hostile Mighty even tell him if something had happened to her?

  “Your sister is well,” growled Mighty. “I shall give her your regards, Fearless. And now you must leave.”

  “Wait, Mighty.” Keen padded forward to stand at Fearless’s side. “Fearless helped me bring down that impala, and he gave it up to me against the wishes of his own pride. Perhaps we should listen to him.”

  Fearless was so surprised, he could only turn his head and blink at his former friend. So Keen was standing up for him. His heart clenched.

  Keen gave him a glance that was unreadable. “I can vouch for Fearless, Mighty. He hasn’t come here out of aggression. He loves his sister, he understands the bonds of blood, and he’s no threat to your cubs.”

  Fearless sucked in a breath of shock and delight. “Cubs?”

  Mighty glowered at Keen, then at Fearless. “Yes. Valor has two cubs.”

  “I’m . . . Mighty, I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry—of course you don’t want males of other prides around.” No wonder he’s been so aggressive. Fearless dipped his head humbly. “But I swear to you, I would never hurt Valor’s offspring. Please, may I see her?”

  Mighty was silent for what seemed a very long time. Only the very tip of his tail twitched, as if in an agony of indecision. Then he turned without a word and stalked off to a flowering acacia with a broad spreading crown. It wasn’t a refusal, and that was enough.

  Fearless followed, his heart in his mouth. Several lionesses sprawled in the shade of the branches, and none of them looked well fed; some were downright skinny. But he saw Valor immediately, and she looked relatively healthy. Her head came up as he approached, and she rose swiftly to her paws.

  “Fearless? Is it really you?”

  “Valor!” He bounded toward her, ignoring Mighty’s warning growl, and they fell to licking each other on the face and neck. “Oh, sister, it’s good to see you again!”

  “It’s been too long,” she agreed, swiping her tongue across his cheek.

  Fearless felt suddenly shy. “You look more like our mother than ever, Valor.” It was true: her always-fierce face had matured, taking on the nobility and kindness that had characterized Swift.

  “And you are growing up fast, little brother.” Valor gave a low, fond laugh. “You’re far stronger than when I last saw you. And I’d swear there’s a mane coming in.”

  “It’s taking its time.” Fearless panted and rolled his eyes. “But Valor, I hear you have cubs?”

  She lay down again, very gently, and nudged a little head that appeared from the dry grass. The cub gazed at Fearless, unafraid, with huge dark eyes. In a moment or two, another head popped up, edging shyly closer to its sibling.

  Fearless felt a rush of instinctive affection and delight. “They’re fine Valorcubs,” he told Valor softly, then turned to Mighty. “You must be proud.”

  “Oh, we are,” said Mighty, in a guarded tone.

  Valor glanced up at Mighty, her golden eyes warm with love. “It’s all right, Mighty. Fearless wouldn’t do us harm.”

  “Very well.” The great lion stooped to lick her head and ears. “I should get back to the rest of the pride. Keen has brought in an impala, and I don’t want the young males to eat the whole thing.”

  The cubs began to suckle at Valor’s belly; Fearless watched, mesmerized. “The Great Spirit is good,” he murmured. “New life in Mightypride!”

  “The Great Spirit,” said Valor dryly, “
had nothing to do with it.” She pulled a face at Fearless. “Do you still believe in all that, brother? Really?”

  “You know what?” Fearless laughed, finding himself unconcerned by her mockery. “I really do.”

  “Please yourself,” she purred, and let him lick her ear. “That’s what comes from being raised by baboons, I guess.”

  “It wasn’t only that,” said Fearless. “Brightforest Troop only introduced me to the idea. The rest, I have seen for myself. We lions rarely have to wonder why or how Bravelands prospers. What we want, we take.” He hesitated. “But the Great Spirit has more power than any creature, and we need its help. Especially now.”

  Valor looked more solemn. She gazed at him. “You’re still worried?”

  “I am,” he told her grimly. “Titan lives, and he’ll be a threat to Bravelands for as long as he’s breathing.”

  “It’s not just your desire for revenge that’s telling you this, little brother?”

  He shook his head. “No. I have my own reasons for wanting him dead, Valor; of course I do. And I swore to put an end to him. But it’s more than that. Titan threatens everything.” He took a breath and bent his head to lick the braver cub. It mewled imperiously at him. “He’s even a danger to little ones like these.”

  Valor studied him again, then glanced down at her cubs. “Not while I’m alive,” she said quietly. Then she glanced back up at him, her eyes lighting up with gentle amusement once more. “Ah, brother. I always knew you’d tread a strange path through life, but I could never have predicted just how strange.”

  “Fearless.” Mighty’s deep voice rang out behind them once more. “You’ve had time enough. You must leave now.”

  Reluctantly, Fearless nodded. It had been such a brief time with his sister, and he couldn’t help a surge of resentful disappointment, but he had no choice. He turned to face the pride leader.

  “Thank you, Mighty,” he said, lowering his head and tail again. “I’m happy you let me see Valor and her—your cubs.”

  “Don’t come here unannounced again,” Mighty warned him. With a jerk of his head he beckoned the young lion behind him. “Keen will escort you from our territory.”

  Fearless could see there was no point arguing. He had failed in his mission, and there would be no alliance. Still, Fearless couldn’t help a small twinge of happiness as he followed Keen away from the acacia grove.

  It was good to see Valor and her cubs, he thought.

  “Mightypride seems happy,” Fearless ventured, after what seemed a long interval of silence. Keen padded just ahead of him, his tail twitching with what looked like nerves. The savannah shimmered before the two young lions as they crested a low ridge and began to jog down to the flat plain. A silver river looped across it, still and gleaming.

  “We are,” said Keen. He gave a sigh and finally slowed his pace so that he was walking alongside Fearless. “Mighty is a fine leader, Fearless. He’s tough, but he’s fair. And there are several new cubs. The pride has a good future, I think.”

  “You think?” Fearless glanced at him. He could tell Keen was troubled; he was concealing something.

  Keen made a grunting noise in his throat. “I won’t be disloyal to Mighty,” he growled.

  Fearless opened his jaws, then closed them again. They walked on for a little way farther without speaking.

  At last Keen turned his head once again. “I’m not lying, Fearless; Mighty is a good leader. But I can’t deny we’ve had our share of bad luck lately. Valor’s our best hunter, but she’s been out of action. And another good lioness was killed.”

  “Killed?” Fearless flicked his ears.

  “Just one of those things: an unlucky kick from an ostrich. The wound was deep, and it went bad. She died within days.” Keen’s expression was dark. “But things are still good.” He was silent again for long moments. “I mean, they could be worse. Mighty won’t hear of any disheartening talk.”

  Fearless said nothing, afraid of offending Keen again, but he could tell how disturbed his old friend was. There was a lot Keen wasn’t saying, he decided. Valor was a fine hunter, and the pride must be missing her full abilities. To lose another lioness at the same time was the worst of luck.

  “I wish I could help,” he said at last, remembering the skinniness of the nursing lionesses.

  “Well,” said Keen, halting, “you can’t. That river is the boundary of Mightypride’s land.” Awkwardly he added, “It was good to see you, Fearless. Actually, very good.”

  Fearless turned to gaze at him. “Listen, Keen. Maybe there’s nothing I can do to help, but will you let me try? I have fine hunters in my pride.”

  “They’re going to want to hunt for themselves,” Keen pointed out. “For Fearlesspride. What would there be in it for them and for you?”

  “I’m their leader,” insisted Fearless. “And I do want something from Mighty: his help. His support. If I could marshal a hunt to get prey for Mightypride, he might believe that I really do want an alliance.” He took a breath. “What do you think, Keen?”

  “What do I think of another crazy plan from Fearless the baboon-lion?” There was reluctant amusement in Keen’s eyes, and something more—a spark of optimism.

  “Go on, Keen. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?” Fearless tilted his head encouragingly.

  “Very well.” Keen gave a grunting bark of laughter. “You know what, Fearless? I think this particular crazy idea might be one of your better ones. However grumpy he acts these days, Mighty’s the same good-hearted lion he always was. It’s worth a shot.”

  “So you’ll help me?” asked Fearless eagerly.

  “When did I ever refuse?” Keen replied.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As he climbed, Thorn placed a paw on a smooth white rock that jutted from the ground near the lip of the ravine. He had always touched this stone as he padded down into the gully, without thinking; it had been a convenient resting place for a forepaw. Now the plain rock seemed to vibrate with memories and meaning. There was the straggly fever tree, clinging to fissures in the rock that had shaded them as they embraced. There was the flat boulder where she used to wait for him, her face upturned and radiant with joy. There was the patch of scree and loose boulders where they had hunted happily for grubs and centipedes.

  Behind him, silent, Mud had laid out his precious Moonstones, glancing up to check the position of the sun before studying them. Thorn loped to the exposed roots of an acacia and hunkered down in its shade; this tree, he was fairly sure, was one where he and Berry had never taken shelter. He almost expected her to call up softly from the shadows below, her voice brimming with excitement.

  But she would never do that again; he would never hear her voice. They had only recently been able to reveal their love to the world, after years of meeting in secret, and now their open happiness had been snatched from them in the cruelest way possible. They had had their problems and disagreements in recent moons, but Thorn knew that they would have overcome all those. Now they would never have the chance.

  Foliage rustled nearby, and Spider’s head appeared through the leaves, followed by Nut.

  “What are you doing here?” said Thorn.

  “We bumped into Sky and Big Talk,” said Nut. “They thought that you were dead!”

  “If I could swap places with Berry, I would,” said Thorn mournfully.

  “Enough of that,” scolded Nut. “Both lions and elephants need you to be a Great Father now. And we are here to help you.”

  Thorn nodded. I need all the friends I can get.

  Nut caught sight of Mud, muttering over the scattered Moonstones.

  “Let me guess: The message isn’t clear?”

  Mud treated him to a scornful look. “Actually, they are,” he said. He moved his fingers, gesturing in some strange pattern between the stones. “To defeat his enemy, Thorn must know him first.”

  “Ha!” said Nut. “Perfectly clear. What’s that supposed to mean? Go for a walk together?”

 
; “I think I understand,” said Thorn. “There are other ways to know someone.” Without explaining further, he clambered up into the crook of a trunk. Here it was shady. He closed his eyes, and as the heat of the sun faded from his fur, so he let his mind empty.

  “Spider’s hungry,” complained the baboon below.

  Thorn’s eyes snapped open in exasperation, and he took a breath to scold Spider, but Mud got there first.

  “Spider, be quiet,” he said severely. “Thorn needs to focus. He’s trying to find Titan.”

  Locating the lion with his mind had never been easy, but Thorn was patient. Titan was there somewhere, he had to be. But as before, his presence was blurred and obscured by the spirits of the creatures he’d consumed. Thorn vividly remembered the shock he’d felt when he’d first sensed so many hearts, so many spirits in a single place. Titan had consumed and absorbed them all, until his own self was drowning in them.

  And Titan’s self hadn’t been a benevolent one to begin with. The madness that had taken hold of the lion only masked a deep-seated malice within his heart. Even if his reaching mind could locate Titan, Thorn knew from experience that melding with his presence would be a horrible and dark experience.

  But it had to be done. Brushing aside his hesitation and his fears, Thorn gritted his jaws and let his mind drift. He reached out farther, finding life all over Bravelands, making the leaps he had to make.

  He was a zebra, hemmed in by his herd, lazily chewing dry yellow grass. He was a gerenuk, his delicate front hooves planted against a tree as he reached for its softest leaves. Above him a buzzard soared; now he was the buzzard, his keen eyes finding movement on the plains below him. Something down there rustled and stirred the grass, and suddenly Thorn was the mouse that scuttled between the stems, ducking and trembling as the buzzard’s shadow passed over it.

  Something huge loomed over him, something that smelled rank and dangerous, but he was too small to catch its notice. Thorn made the leap, finding the hyena’s mind, running with it alongside its clan as they trotted toward the Dead Forest.