Yawo and Zanque were born a day apart to first cousins. It was tradition was to name children in alphabetical order. Names at the end of the alphabet were always considered unlucky, being the end and not the beginning.  The women were shamed, having had the bad luck to bear children, sons at that, at the end of the community’s alphabet. Their aunt, always cunning, managed to bear a daughter next, a name beginning with an ‘A’, Anaria. The young women suspected witchcraft but as the wife of the chief, it was pointless to accuse.

The boys grew in beauty and strength. Shunned by the rest of the children, they depended upon each other and despite the Aunt’s efforts, little Anaria stayed close to Yawo and Zanque. When the boys were seven they were sent, as all boys their age, to watch the cattle. Yawo yawned in the mid-day heat. “They tease us, cousin. Set to watching in the heat of the day. They know the lions will not come when it is so hot.”

“They want to catch us, Yawo. Asleep or playing.” The boy stood up and stretched. They will not find us lax. We are the end but not lazy.”

Little six-year-old Anaria toddled up to her cousins. “Hi.”

She sat in the dust in the shade of the middling tree and with a few twists of grass made a doll. She offered it to Yawo. “You are the oldest, you get the first gift.”

Aware of the sacred ties of females and males, the boy bowed and accepted the gift. “You honor me, young Anaria.”

She made another and gave it to Zanque. “For you, fierce fighter.”

He bowed and accepted her gift. “You honor us, cousin.”

The girl stood. “It’s time, warriors. Look outward.”

The boys were confused but did as she bid. Zanque hissed. “To the north, my cousin. The lion prowls.”

The boys both spied a lioness creeping through the dry grass, nearing the cattle herd. “You go left, cousin,” Yawo whispered. “I’ll go right.”

He eyed his young female cousin. “Stay, honored female.”

She bowed and sat crosslegged under the tree. “I await your return.”

The boys crept out, spears in hand. The lifeblood of the tribe was at stake if the lioness should take even a single cow.

Yawo hefted his fire sharpened spear. It was one thing to creep up on the stuffed skin the hunt masters hung in the forest. It was quite another to sneak up on the best hunter in the savannah, who was ready to shred a boy too brave for his own good.

On his side Zanque moved as silently as he could through the dry grass. He stopped to rub his hand in the dust, the better to grip his spear. He worried that the lioness would attack before he was ready to defend his cousin.

What about the rest of the pride? Yawo thought. Where are they? He risked a peek above the grass heads. He didn’t see any lions but that meant nothing.

Both boys took deep, calming breaths as the hunt master had taught them. They could feel each other across the expanse of grass. They crept forward until they could each hear the soft huffing of the lioness. This time of year they knew she was hunting to feed her cubs. That made her even more dangerous.

On a hunch, Yawo gave a soft hiss. He stopped and listened. To his right he heard a gentle whuff. The lioness raised her head, he could see her ears. He did his best to quiet his rapid heartbeat.

On the other side of the lioness, Zanque heard both noises. He regripped his spear. The lioness was after the tribe’s cattle. Worse, his best friend and his female cousin were in danger.

Both boys crept closer, gripping and re-gripping their spears. The lioness prepared to spring. The boys saw the grass shiver. They readied their spears and when the lioness sprang both boys let loose their spears.

The giant cat screamed. The herd thundered away. The boys ran up on the lioness, paws twitching in the dust. Two spears arrowed from her body, one on each side. They were still standing there when their cousin, Anaria, appeared between them.

“Good kill,” she told them.

Elders, alerted by the big cat’s screams ran up. “What happened?”

“They killed the lioness,” young Anaria told them. Her eyes never strayed from the elders. “My cousins have saved the herd.”

The men bowed and the eldest waved others to pick up the cat and the boys. A procession into the village caught Anaria’s mother unaware. Chanting by the men overrode any objection she had. The girl stood behind the boys as the lioness was skinned and fangs and claws removed.

The boys gave Anaria both fang and claw to honor her. The hide was divided between the boys who gave the skins to their mothers. They kept a fang and a claw each which they made into necklaces.

After, the boys and Anaria grew to adulthood. Anaria became the high priestess and her cousins the leaders of the tribe. It became common for boys to have names from the end of the alphabet. Just in honor of their chieftains, of course.

 

The End

884Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html