speed that served the gazelles so well in flight from the great beasts of prey had now become a weapon, deadly and inescapable. Screams rose amid the quiet thunder of hooves as the antelope plunged their horns through the bodies of their human prey…
Babakar had not moved when the others fled. He seemed unaware of anything save the still form lying in front of him… until a flying body caught him on the shoulder and bowled him over onto his back. He raised his arms defensively. The gesture was not fast enough; a pair of forehooves struck him in the stomach. His breath whooshed out and he doubled over in pain. It was then that he saw the leaping messengers of death, and heard the cries of their victims. There was a curious absence of fear as he awaited his own death. But the finishing blow never came…
Clutching his injured abdomen, Babakar looked up into the eyes of a large male gazelle. In those dark orbs he saw… recognition? Compassion? Pity? He thought he could detect these things in the glimmer of the gazelle's eyes, but he knew only that the antelope did not attack him further.
Grunting with the pain the effort cost him, Babakar raised himself on an elbow and looked upon a scene of sad carnage. Kuya Adowa, Falil, Mwiya, and all the others lay dead as the thing that had been his Amma. The great herd of gazelles stood still now, blood dripping from their horns and caking in their hooves. Silver trails glimmered down their narrow muzzles; they were weeping.
And Babakar wept with them, for what man could endure the tears of those beautiful killers, tears that mixed with the blood trickling down the graceful spiral of their horns?
The leader of the herd came toward Babakar. The beast bent its head; its tongue flickered from its mouth and licked the blood from- the wounds its hooves had made in Babakar's stomach. Then the gazelle turned and bounded off to the west. As if on signal, the other antelope followed, and within an eyeblink they were gone, only the fading drum of their hooves attesting that they had been there at all. That…and the ten unmoving bodies of Amma's murderers.
Disregarding the pain that shot from stomach to spine, Babakar iri Sounkalo gathered the broken form of Amma into his arms. He rose. Cradling her close to him, he crooned her name as the tears coursed down his ebony cheeks.
A kambu can love, she had said before she died. Were these her own true words, Babakar wondered. Or had she merely repeated the desperate thought that had leaped into his mind at the end? He would never know the truth. And, knowing that, Babakar wept bitterly.
By the time the griot's tale is ended, a fair-sized crowd congregates at the saffiyeh. For a moment the people are silent. Then the jeering begins.
"You'll never make a living in Gao telling tales like that, griot!"
"Whoever heard of gazelles attacking people?"
"And a gazelle turning into a woman! Hah!"
"I come from a village near Gadou, and I never heard of such a thing there."
Already some of the listeners have turned to leave when the griot stands up. He is a tall man, taller than he had appeared in his squatting posture. Old fires kindle in his eyes. With a savage motion he pulls his upper garment over his head. Naked to the waist, his body is spare and gaunt, though stretched over a large frame. It is not his bare torso, though, that elicits sharp exclamations of surprise from the crowd. It is the two scars that stand out against the dark skin of his stomach… scars in the shape of two sharp, narrow hooves; the hooves of a gazelle…
The coins and quills of the listeners fill the tortoise shell of the griot. But the griot pays no heed to their generosity. He plucks at the strings of his ko. "Amma," he murmurs softly. "Amma…"
4: Manly Wade Wellman - Chastel
"Then you won't let County Dracula rest in his tomb?" inquired Lee Cobbett, his square face creasing with a grin.
Five of them sat in the parlor of Judge Keith Hilary Pursuivant's hotel
Babakar had not moved when the others fled. He seemed unaware of anything save the still form lying in front of him… until a flying body caught him on the shoulder and bowled him over onto his back. He raised his arms defensively. The gesture was not fast enough; a pair of forehooves struck him in the stomach. His breath whooshed out and he doubled over in pain. It was then that he saw the leaping messengers of death, and heard the cries of their victims. There was a curious absence of fear as he awaited his own death. But the finishing blow never came…
Clutching his injured abdomen, Babakar looked up into the eyes of a large male gazelle. In those dark orbs he saw… recognition? Compassion? Pity? He thought he could detect these things in the glimmer of the gazelle's eyes, but he knew only that the antelope did not attack him further.
Grunting with the pain the effort cost him, Babakar raised himself on an elbow and looked upon a scene of sad carnage. Kuya Adowa, Falil, Mwiya, and all the others lay dead as the thing that had been his Amma. The great herd of gazelles stood still now, blood dripping from their horns and caking in their hooves. Silver trails glimmered down their narrow muzzles; they were weeping.
And Babakar wept with them, for what man could endure the tears of those beautiful killers, tears that mixed with the blood trickling down the graceful spiral of their horns?
The leader of the herd came toward Babakar. The beast bent its head; its tongue flickered from its mouth and licked the blood from- the wounds its hooves had made in Babakar's stomach. Then the gazelle turned and bounded off to the west. As if on signal, the other antelope followed, and within an eyeblink they were gone, only the fading drum of their hooves attesting that they had been there at all. That…and the ten unmoving bodies of Amma's murderers.
Disregarding the pain that shot from stomach to spine, Babakar iri Sounkalo gathered the broken form of Amma into his arms. He rose. Cradling her close to him, he crooned her name as the tears coursed down his ebony cheeks.
A kambu can love, she had said before she died. Were these her own true words, Babakar wondered. Or had she merely repeated the desperate thought that had leaped into his mind at the end? He would never know the truth. And, knowing that, Babakar wept bitterly.
By the time the griot's tale is ended, a fair-sized crowd congregates at the saffiyeh. For a moment the people are silent. Then the jeering begins.
"You'll never make a living in Gao telling tales like that, griot!"
"Whoever heard of gazelles attacking people?"
"And a gazelle turning into a woman! Hah!"
"I come from a village near Gadou, and I never heard of such a thing there."
Already some of the listeners have turned to leave when the griot stands up. He is a tall man, taller than he had appeared in his squatting posture. Old fires kindle in his eyes. With a savage motion he pulls his upper garment over his head. Naked to the waist, his body is spare and gaunt, though stretched over a large frame. It is not his bare torso, though, that elicits sharp exclamations of surprise from the crowd. It is the two scars that stand out against the dark skin of his stomach… scars in the shape of two sharp, narrow hooves; the hooves of a gazelle…
The coins and quills of the listeners fill the tortoise shell of the griot. But the griot pays no heed to their generosity. He plucks at the strings of his ko. "Amma," he murmurs softly. "Amma…"
4: Manly Wade Wellman - Chastel
"Then you won't let County Dracula rest in his tomb?" inquired Lee Cobbett, his square face creasing with a grin.
Five of them sat in the parlor of Judge Keith Hilary Pursuivant's hotel
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