It was nearly time. After many months of travelling - their journey made longer by a wandering, uncertain path, as he had been sure of only the general direction - they had at last come to lands Umkhombo found familiar, and near to sunset Tala had returned, alighting in his mane and giving him the news that she had located the pride that shifted through the Bonelands. The falcon had observed, also, the same two males who had protected it when Khombo had left, an age ago it felt.
On one paw, it was a relief to know that the pride had evidently remained stable, with no further upheavals of leadership or tradition, but on the other, that meant that Bangizwe and Andhaka were strong and able to fend off challengers. Challengers like Umkhombo, who came with no added strength to back him, and would face two capable males alone.
It made little sense, when one considered that several experienced warriors had accompanied him this far, that they could easily defeat the Abaholi together (even if he had just one of his Muharip!), but all of those loyal Muharip were lionesses, and in the Ithambo'hlabathi, lionesses were not warriors. In a pride that took tradition very seriously, only the males were the fighters and defenders. To defeat the Abaholi with the aid of a lioness, while it would amuse him greatly to do so, would ultimately only harm his cause. How weak he would look to the Abazingeli! No, no matter how it grated at him he would have to fight alone, if he were to start off well as an Umholi. First impressions and the judgements made from them would stay with him indefinitely; he remembered well the grumblings and gossip about the unorthodox manner in which Andhaka and Bangizwe had come into their positions, regardless of how well they performed their duties. He suspected the murmurs persisted even now.
He did not want to be dogged by similar complaints. He was already doing something that was sure to spark rumor and even argument in bringing near a dozen lionesses with him, from a culture as different as night from day. The thought of integrating the Qyrhyeshti into Bonelands life was every bit as daunting as going up against two seasoned males in combat, maybe even a bit more so. But it needed to be done. They had been born to and raised in war, but that lifestyle was gone with their enemies and blighted lands. It could no longer be sustained, nor should it be. So many lives lost, generations beyond counting, and for what?
Better to become something else, to leave war behind them, but not forget it. He knew they never would, at least not until those who had lived through it were long dead. The Abazingeli would certainly be scandalized when these new Busisa trained their children, male and female both, to fight. Not duel and spar the way the Firekin did, but truly fight.
He looked forward to it, and it brought him a smile to think of it rather than the other, darker possibilities: that he might lose, or not only that, but die in the trying. And what then? He didn't want to think of it, but he must, for the good of those who had given him their loyalty and trust. They had come with him this far, and he would not leave them adrift again. There needed to be a plan.
Leaving his brooding for now, he went in search of his sister-in-law, who it happened was overseeing a training bout amongst her daughters and niece, though by the time he arrived it had devolved into a semi-friendly brawl. He was reasonably certain that Khazine had something to do with that; his daughter was a dirty fighter. There didn't seem to be sides, just a savagely joyful free-for-all. There would almost certainly be blood, but no real injuries.
Umkhombo shook his head and motioned Nesf to follow him a short way off, where they would be able to speak privately but keep an eye on the mock fight - more for entertainment than anything.
"Brother," she acknowledged with quiet fondness. Some of the Qyrhyeshti had questioned her sister's choice of mate, but she had never been one of them, as she too had taken a former outsider. Aniketos, fallen in battle without ever having seen his children. She and Umkhombo bore similar wounds, and grief shared but unspoken had tightened their bonds of kinship. Nesf was not Adala's only sister to come with him, but she was the one he was closest to.
He shook his head again. "They may not understand when you call me that, you know. They don't-"
"Take mates, I know," she interrupted with a slight quirk of a smile. "I think you've told us a thousand times."
The dark male sighed. "I just want this to work, and I know it's going to be difficult. But I'm getting away from myself already, that's not why I wanted to speak with you."
"Oh?" Nesf regarded him with her single eye, intrigued.
"I have not been...entirely forthcoming with you," he began reluctantly. "As I told you, they will accept us, but I have glossed over how that will be achieved. I must challenge and defeat the Abaholi so that I can take their place. And no, before you ask, you can't help me. That would go over very poorly indeed."
His companion was silent for a moment, then it was her turn to shake her head. "From what you have told us, I am not surprised to hear it. You could have said something sooner."
"No. Life has been uncertain enough. Better that everyone think that our acceptance is a certainty."
Nesf scowled her disapproval. "And if you lose? Where will our certainty be then?"
"Intact. New lionesses - Busisa - are always welcome. It is males who must fight for their place, or else swear celibacy and obedience. While the former would not trouble me, the latter does. I will not be Ahluke, even if they would have me as such, and considering our circumstances, I very much doubt that they would."
"Let me get this straight: if you lose, even if you die, you expect us to stay?"
"Yes. Will that be a problem?"
Nesf growled under her breath, making her unhappiness clear, but that did not change her answer. "No. We have travelled too far, and it's time to stop."
"Good. Thank you, Nesf. Whatever happens tomorrow, wait for Tala. If I succeed, I will send for you to join me. If not...wait a few days before approaching, and don't come upon them all at once. You and Khazine first, speak to the Abaholi of the Qyrhyeshti's situation. They may take some convincing, given your number and connection to me, but be honest. Don't downplay it, there's no denying Khazine is mine, just tell the truth. There may be suspicion for awhile - a long while, even - but all will be well in time."
"I understand." Nesf did not nod, but glanced to the scene of the adolescents' brawl, which had by now fallen quiet. "Well, time to survey the damage. Go on then, try to get some sleep."
Umkhombo doubted he'd manage, but it was worth a try. "Goodnight...sister."
