“Don’t leave until I come back,” Busara said. “I’ll scout out the trail and make sure we are not being watched.”

With the lioness Asumini, he left to run the first dangerous leg of the journey through the cane field and the scrub bushes. It would not do taking them on the well-worn paths. That route had served him well gathering Tiko root, and it would get them over to Maloki’s village. Maloki detested Kinara and would be only too glad to accept his wise Chief Scribe as a guest, knowing it would rankle his old adversary to no end.

Asumini stopped and looked around. Busara, who was a little hard of hearing, relied on her keen senses. “What is it, old girl? Behind me?”

He looked around. “Uwezo! Doya!”

Doya was holding a large rock.

“I used to tell you stories when you were kids! Please! Let me run and just say you killed me!”

Doya looked a little ashamed. “OK. But swear you won’t come back.”

“I swear!” Busara slowly turned around, his heart pounding. “I’ll never come back!”

Doya lifted the rock and brought it down on Busara’s head as hard as he could. Busara fell and moaned. Doya hit him again and the moaning stopped.

Asumini appeared, snarling. In fear and dread, Doya threw the stone at the crouched lioness, but it passed through her harmlessly. “Don’t kill me! Please don’t kill me! Oh gods!”

“Maybe I can let you run away and just say I killed you.”

“Oh gods! Have pity on me! I was following orders!” He fell to his knees and would have groveled on the ground, but right before him was the body of Busara smeared with his own blood. “For the gods’ sake!”

“For the god’s sake,” she snarled, springing forward.

The next morning Busara did not come to his breakfast meeting with Kinara. The chief acted impatient and made a token effort to have him searched for. But Metutu spotted some blood on the ground and signs of struggle in the grass. "Come look at this!"