SYNOPSIS :  

Set at the dawn of history on this tiny corner of the world, the King's Madness explores the clash of civilisation, and the tension between polygamy and monogamy. Women assume that all red blooded men prefer polygamy if given a choice. This book examines the down side of the polygamous culture : that for every prince with his harem of wives, there would be many men carrying his sedan chair without one. But what is the solution? What is the power of women? And what are men prepared to give up for that power?

I was my mother’s favourite.  I don’t know why.  Perhaps it was the comet that splashed across the heavens at the vernal equinox one week before I was born.  Perhaps it was my eyes, which opened two days after the labours ended.  My mother tried to explain.  She named me Jupiter.  But I was sceptical.

You see, I was one amongst a set of triplets.  So which of us three playful spirits arrived on the wings of the shooting star?  And if it was the first-born’s privilege to be bestowed that honour, which of us was born the first?  But my mother had no doubt.  She believed that my eyes confirmed my status.  It was a miracle that my two-day-old eyes could see.  It was a sign, the mark of a free spirit that arrived with fire and lightning, eager to impress his will upon a world waiting in awe.

My brother and sister opened their eyes on the eighth and tenth days respectively.  By their tardiness, they surrendered their birthrights to me.  This taught me early in life about the rewards that await the industrious.  My dear siblings!  I shall call them Mars – or Mark (to suit your ears); and Venus.

So we were – each to varying degrees – celestial spirits.

We hid in a large crevice in the rock.  Outside, the lush golden lalang danced in the hot equatorial sun.  They were my standard bearers flapping in the wind.  But no one recognised them.  My time had not yet come.  For now, they were our camouflage, screening our tiny bodies from prying eyes.

It was ironic that a celestial spirit such as I, who arrived in such pomp and splendour, should have to hide amongst the crickets and frogs that creaked and croaked in the grass.

But such thoughts did not trouble my mother.  She was mindful only that we be hidden from the wrath of the world – including, of all creatures, my father!

So for several weeks my mother hid with us.  She did not dare to venture out for food or drink, nourishing us instead with her warm milk while she weakened and waned.  Eventually, our infant teeth got in the way, and my mother knew that we were ready for solid food.  But still we could not venture out.  Instead, she left us for short periods of time to bring back the meat.  We, the triplets, were like temple gods.  Immobile, frozen into the rocks, we waited for the gifts and offerings of those bound to us by a strange power.

0L

My introduction to my father almost killed me.  That may sound over-sensationalised, but it was true.  At least, to a certain extent.

For several weeks the four of us, mother and triplets, roamed, pranced and skipped around the length and breadth of our father’s domain – well actually, only part of that domain.  We had our first glimpse of the wide expanse of the blue skies.  The smoky white dragons hovered graciously in the heavens.  The rain tree towered proud and ancient above us, ignoring our very existence.  The bamboos clustered in a maze to tease our curious feet.  Little animals scurried up the trees at our approach.

We embarked on a conducted tour of boundaries.  To the North was a gentle valley unmarked by any natural geographic feature.  We had to smell the boundary!  A faint old musty, arid, acid smell deposited at various strategic bushes and rocky outcrops to keep us little tots in and to keep the monsters out.  The smell of a father whom we had never met.

There was no sign of my father.  My mother made sure of that.

‘Where is our father?’ I asked, always the inquisitive one.

My mother’s ears pricked up.  She peered this way and that into the depths of the forest around us and sniffed cautiously.  Finally satisfied with the fresh chlorophyllic scent of the forest, she continued to lead us through the thick flora, sweeping her long slender tail to and fro.

‘Your father?’ she answered absent-mindedly, ‘the South Eastern slopes – he sits on a lofty rocky throne that greets the morning sun and overlooks the sea.’

‘Then we’re moving further from the East!’ I protested.

‘What’s the sea, Mother?’ Venus chipped in excitedly.

‘The sea is that vast stretch of blue you see over the tree tops.’

‘But you said the sea was to the East!’ Venus pointed out.

‘Ah, this is an island we’re on.  See that small island over there?  If you look carefully, you’ll see a pair of dragon’s teeth standing there as well.’

‘What’s an island?’ Venus asked.  She might have been an enthusiastic student of geography in her previous life.

But I did not catch my mother’s reply.  I was wondering why we could not see our father.  If he was king of this forest through which we were trampling, why were we avoiding him?

‘There, that’s the Western boundary marked by this river.’  My mother turned to Venus.  ‘Do you see it?’

We stood huddled around our mother near the edge of a wide shallow gully, gazing at the cool, serene waters gurgling contentedly in its ageless solitude below.  The chorus of songbirds and the chatter of monkeys at the tree tops was a lullaby to babies’ ears.

Mark, lulled by the gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the trees, bounded to the edge of the gully, skipped over it and skidded halfway down the slope.

‘Stop!’ my mother shouted urgently as she sprang over to the edge of the gully.  There was panic in her eyes and I was seized with a wave of fear.  What was wrong?  The river bank below was sparsely vegetated and a set of large footprints was visible on its soft muddy surface. 

Mark tried to scamper back towards us, but too late!

A pair of menacing eyes gleamed amongst the bushes on the other side of the gully.  The forest fell strangely silent.  Suddenly the eyes moved and large powerful muscles emerged from amongst the lalang.  So well camouflaged were the evil looking black and yellow stripes that they were visible only when they moved.  And so slow and deliberate was the beast’s motion that it was like a phoenix rising from some subterranean corridor of the underworld.

‘A tiger!’ my mother shouted.  There was a rustle at the tree tops.  Perhaps the monkeys and song birds were scampering fearfully to the safety of greater heights.  Perhaps they were jostling excitedly for the grand stand to get a better view.

I do not know.  My first impulse was to flee.  But my brother!  Mark was still struggling in the loose earth.  With each frantic step forward, he slid backwards two steps.

My mother reared herself to her full stature to balance precariously on the hind legs, towering above my hunched up body.  She glared and snarled at the tiger.  That was the first time that I saw her looking so tall, so fierce and so courageous.

But the tiger was undeterred.  It rose slowly to its full height like a dark and ominous shadow that grew larger and larger until it dominated the entire landscape of our nightmare.  It was even larger than my mother.  It was a monster.

I shrank into the bushes.  I shivered at the hisses and snarls that gathered in the bowels of its belly and rumbled though its clenched teeth.  My heart skipped a beat when the monster leaped onto its side of the river bed.  It paced this way and that, deciding whether to engage in battle.  Its menacing eyes gleamed as they flickered between my mother valiantly standing guard and my brother fighting his own battle with the moving earth.  Finally, after what seemed like an agonising eternity, my brother flung himself across the edge of the gully and kicked at the earth and air to wriggle the rest of his body over the edge, sending showers of earth and sand flying across the river.

At the sight of his small prey disappearing over the edge of the gully, the tiger made up its mind.  With a blood curding battle cry, it leaped across the river and up the gully, aiming its talons straight at my brother’s helpless little body.  But my mother, watchful all the while, flung herself across the path of this monstrous missile.  Their bodies collided in mid-air.  They rolled down the side of the gully, their bodies locked in combat.

‘Mother!’ we screamed.  We were too frightened to run away.

The two combatants tumbled in the loose earth.  The showers of earth, sand and water blinded them momentarily.  Unable to see clearly, they clung on to each other’s flesh with their claws.  While their eyes were blinking helplessly, their throats were vibrant with battle cries.  So terrible were their cries of fury that the grass and trees seemed to cringe at their roots.

‘Run!’ Venus was screaming.

‘Run, Mother, run!’

We were blinded with terror.  We clawed at the grass at the edge of the gully.  We kicked at the earth, as if we could lend our strength to our mother struggling below.  She was now pinned under the weight of the tiger.  Any moment now the tiger’s eyes would clear and he would sink his fangs into her throat!

Then I heard a roar.  A roar so loud and so powerful, it was as if the gods were angry and the whole mountain shook with a thunder I had never heard before.  I jumped in fright and turned to see a creature fearsome and majestic.  The fire in his eyes lept like the flames of a volcano so that his whole head seemed to be enveloped with tongues of fire flaring in the sunlight.  He was a titan in the battlefield.  So awesome was his arrival that the tiger twisted round with fear in its eyes.

With one gigantic leap, the titan flew across the edge of the gully, piercing the air with his golden body like a bolt of lightning.  The tiger tried to escape by leaping across the river, but it had no time to scale the slopes of the gully.  It lurched around to face the awesome fury of the titan and his crown of fire.

My mother, freed from her adversary, shrank from the battle and joined us at the edge of the gully.  Her place was with us.  She crouched low with her shoulders hunched to the ground, ever ready to hurl herself into the battle if the tiger should chance our way.

The tiger and the titan dashed around against the walls of the gully, trapped in a murderous dance, too beautiful in its raw power, too stark in its cruelty.  Their music was the screams and roars of pain and fury.  Their rhythm was their sporadic spurts of energy as they writhed in and out of the clutches of each other’s claws and fangs.  Their bodies glistened with a sweat that poured out not from their pores but from their veins.  The river was turning red.

The titan sank his fangs into the other’s shoulder.  There was a roar of pain.  The tiger was weakening.  It clawed at the air desperately, missing its mark.  It could not endure the fury of the crown of fire.  It could not out manoeuvre the golden muscles of the titan.  Another twist and the titan sank his fangs into the tiger’s rump.  With one last-ditch effort to dislodge the titan from its back, the tiger hurled itself at the wall of the gully, kicking up a shower of earth and sand.  The titan sprang back to shake the earth out of his eyes.  Released from his grip, the tiger fled down the gully.

The victorious titan stood at the edge of the water to watch the tiger slither up the slope a distance away.  He threw back his crown of fire and roared triumphantly.  It was so loud that my ears hurt.  I could not bear the power of his voice.  Then he turned to look at my mother.  I thought we were his next victims.  But my mother was not afraid.  She stood her ground boldly.  Her eyes shone with a strange hue.  It was admiration.  Her eyes were brimming with admiration.

His gaze fell on my siblings.  And finally his ruby eyes pierced into mine.  His eyes flared with the heat of his own fires.  I felt as if my body was melting under his gaze.  I shrank behind my mother.  I wanted to flee, but my mother held me back.

Then it was all over.  The blazing eyes looked away.  He walked slowly and stiffly down the gully, his muscles rippling on his back and shoulders with a golden sheen.  A proud and ancient race.  Never mind the bloody scratches and gaping wounds.  Never mind the pain and perils.  He was the victor staking a claim to his territory.  He wore his injuries like a coat of honour.

We stood there transfixed in the wake of his departure.  The forest slowly came back to life.  One by one the monkeys, the song birds and the insects resumed their symphony.  But I was wrapped in my own thoughts.  Who was that titan?  Why did he spare us?  And what was that strange hue that glimmered in my mother’s eyes?

‘You were saved by your father.’ My mother broke the spell.

‘Our father?  The king of the jungle?  Wow!’ Venus was enraptured.  ‘He’s so big and powerful.’  She skipped spiritedly around my brother.  ‘Did you see that crown of fire?’

I glanced at Mark.  He was quiet.  Pensive in thought.  He must have felt that same terror that I felt when those fiery eyes swept across our vulnerable bodies.  He must have quailed under his cold unflinching glare and harboured the same apprehension.  Had our mother not been there, both he and I would have ended like the tiger.  Or worse, we were utterly defenceless.

‘So why didn’t you take us to our father earlier, Mother?’  I heard my sister asking in the midst of her babble of questions.

‘Why?’ My mother glanced at my brother and I and hesitated.  ‘Your father is big and strong.  But sometimes he can be unreasonable.  So you mustn’t provoke him.  Especially your brothers.’

My brother and I exchanged glances.  We did not need her caution.  We knew.

So that was how I met my father.  So, was I too harsh on him?  To say that I almost died.  Perhaps.  But then if you had a proud and ancient warrior as a father, you might understand my fears.

L

It wasn’t long before we settled down on the South Eastern slope.  My mother must have decided that it was safer to live withy my father’s temperament than to risk another encounter with the tigers or other monsters wandering just beyond our domain.

Life in my father’s domain fell into a pattern.  We were introduced to our aunts and half-siblings.  The favourite pastime of the whole pride was to laze around the grass patch, clean our hands and faces while gazing out at the sea and the shadows and silhouettes of some mystical magical mountains hovering on the horizon.

These were the abodes of the gods, my mother said.  How could you tell?  I wondered.  But my mother was certain.  Look, when the gods disagreed and fought amongst themselves, they hurled bolts of lightning at each other that flashed and streaked across the horizon.  When they were angry, their roars rumbled across the skies as thunder.  Those were my mother’s words.  I wondered.

And my father?  Most of the time, he slept on his rocky throne at the top of the clearing, lording over his pride.  When he was in a foul mood, everybody had to keep quiet so as not to disturb the peace.  On those occasions, Mark and I would sneak away to the clusters of flame trees a little distance down the hill.  There amongst the canopy of red and yellow flowers blazing in the sun we would lose ourselves in a world of our own where one did not need to watch the weather above the rocky throne.

Every day my mother set out on her hunt with the three of us in tow.  We watched her display of skills, prowess and speed.  Each time the prey struck back, whether it be a small goat with its horns or a fox with its fangs, my heart went out to my mother who had to work so hard to bring us the meat.  I wished I were big enough, strong enough to shoulder that burden.  But I was not.  I could only watch and grimace at my mother’s pain.  These sympathies however, did not stop my hunger.  So when my mother called, I pounced on the lifeless prey with as much relish as my siblings.

My father?  How shall I describe him?  He was a study in contrast.  While the rest of the pride – aunts, cousins and all – were out on the hunt, my father would laze away the day sprawled on his rocky throne, swishing his tail to flick the flies away, scratching the granite surface of the outcrop, contemplating its hieroglyphics, or gazing mistily across the sea at the shadows beyond.

Every so often, his ears pricked up.  He would lift his huge body slowly, like an ancient god awakened from his century-old slumber, walk deliberately to the edge of the clearing, wander amongst the flame trees and saunter back to his throne, satisfied.  When one of my aunts brought back the prize from a successful hunt, he would chase everyone away and sink the first bite into the fresh meat.  Only when he was satisfied did the rest of us dare fill our stomachs.

Once or twice I saw his ears prick up, he hesitated beside the red flame tree and, in a flash, he darted off.  Each time I was intrigued.  Where had he gone?  What had woken him from his slumber?  Each time my impatient wait around the rocky throne would be rewarded with the sight of his return, dragging a prize catch and leaving a long lonely trail of blood in its wake.  A huge bull.  Larger than any I had ever seen before.  Sufficient to feed the entire pride.  How did he do it?  Where did he find it?

‘Your father is a lazy one.  He lets others do the dirty work.  He hears the battle cries riding on the winds.  He dashes to the battle scene, chases away the victor and takes the victim for himself.’  That was my mother’s explanation.

‘That’s daylight robbery!’ I protested.

‘Robbery?’ my mother mused.  ‘In the jungle, everything belongs to the strongest.  Even life and death!’  She looked at me intently.  ‘You are destined for greatness.  It’s your birthright.  One day you will be strong and fearsome.  Like your father.  Then you will chase away the victor and take the victim for yourself too.’

‘No, I will not be like my father,’ I declared resolutely.  ‘I will be fair.  Look how he grabs the first bite of every piece of meat that you bring back – meat that you had to fight and bleed for!’

My mother strained her long feline neck backwards to take a long hard look at me.

‘We can go away from here,’ I pressed the point urgently.  ‘Just the four of us.  We don’t need him.’

My mother shook her head slowly and sighed.  She glanced at my father on his rocky throne, gazing sleepily out into sea, oblivious of the discontent seething below him.

‘You’re too young to understand,’ my mother finally replied.  ‘The world is an evil place.  There are too many enemies out there.  Who will protect us?’

She stretched her long limbs meaningfully in the grass.

‘Here, we are secure.  We have a home.  We are free.  Our enemies do not venture here to disturb us.  They know we have a king sitting on the rocky throne.’

I sank heavily into the grass and lowered my eyes.  All at once I felt so estranged from my mother and sister.  They were happy to frolic in my father’s land.  They were a family.  But my brother and I?  We wandered amongst the flame trees to ensure that we did not cross the path of my father.  We did not belong.

‘I know it’s hard for you,’ my mother said gently.  ‘Soon, it will get even harder.  One day, when you are old and strong enough, you will have to leave this kingdom to set up your own domain like your cousin did last year.  The alternative is to kill your father.’

I looked up at her sharply.  Was that what my mother wanted?  Was she waiting for me to drive my father from the world of the living?  But one look at my mother and the fire in my heart died.

‘Don’t be too hard on your father.’

My mother licked my ears to brush away the sand and soothe the growing pain in my heart.  I had always dreamed of leaving this domain.  But not this way.  Not all alone.  Not as an outcast, unloved and unwanted.

‘It’s a tough life for your father too,’ she continued.  ‘He has to defend his domain from the enemies.  He’s alone most of the time.  And he’s afraid of you.’

‘What?’ I sat up in surprise.  ‘Why would he be afraid of a little guy like me?’ I asked bitterly.

‘You will not be little forever.  You and your brother.  And your male cousins.  He will never know whether one or the other will try to usurp his throne and send him to the nether world.  So he’s on his guard all the time.  It’s tough enough for him to watch you and your cousins grow day by day in strength and in cunning, and to know that one day his generosity may be his doom.’

‘So what do you want me to do?’ I asked in despair.  ‘Do you want me to leave you and Vee?’

I felt a lump in my throat.  Would my mother betray my love and loyalty for the security of my father?  I could hardly bear to hear the answer.

She saw the anguish in my eyes.  She saw the pain in my soul.  And she saw that she was powerless.  She could not forestall the inevitable.  She could only make it a little less painful.

‘Let’s deal with that question when the time comes,’ she answered.  And that was that.  She looked away, rolled her head lazily and licked her lips absent-mindedly to indicate that the conversation was at an end.

I knew then my destiny.  And my destiny was not in this kingdom.  I thought of the cousin whom I had never met, the cousin whom my mother spoke of.  Perhaps he was wandering somewhere on the slopes of the hill to the North.  Perhaps he followed the river and disappeared into its misty world.  Or he might have crossed the river to battle with the tiger.

Somewhere out there was my destiny.  And I was seized with a fear.  A fear of the unknown.

L

My father had gone mad.  I was convinced of that.  I saw him rolling his eyes and throwing his head and shaking bright red crown in his rage against the wind when he was possessed by his madness.

I chanced upon him one evening amongst the palm trees overlooking the river.  He had seized one of my aunts and heaved his massive body over her.  His eyes were wild and unseeing.  His nostrils flared.  His mouth was opened wide.  But it seemed his voice was caught somewhere in his throat and he bit wildly at the fur around my aunt’s neck.  Then as I watched, rooted to the ground, as I watched, curious and confused, as I watched trembling with a strange fear, that was when I saw his madness.  I saw him roll his eyes and throw his head back in a dance of madness.  I saw him bare his teeth and bite at the wind.  I saw him hiss and groan at the heavens.

‘He was possessed.  I saw it on his face!’ I insisted.  My first instinct was to warn my mother of my father’s madness.

‘How can that be?  I saw him by the palms a little while ago and he was certainly well in possession of his faculties.’

‘Yes, at the palm tree.  Small aunt was with him.’

My mother sat up straight in surprise.  She twitched her ears thoughtfully.  ‘Your small aunt?  So what did they do?’

‘He jumped onto her back.  He was going to kill her.’

‘Don’t be silly.  Nobody was hurt, right?’

‘No, she wasn’t hurt.’  I was getting agitated.  Why was my mother always on my father’s side?  ‘But you should have seen the madness in his eyes!’

‘Then it is the madness which seizes all kings,’ my mother declared mildly.  ‘A madness that can only be cured by a female.’

I studied her face, surprised that my revelation had not evoked any fear or concern in my mother.  She had seen that madness before, I concluded.

‘Why didn’t small aunt try to run away?  Was she trying to cure him?’

‘Oh, I don’t know.  Why do you always ask so many questions?’  My mother sighed with an air of resignation.

‘Why does the madness seize a king?  Why does the king choose one or the other females to cure his madness?’  Her voice softened and her eyes flickered with a gentler light.  ‘When a female sees the king’s madness, her heart beats faster.  She’s afraid.  But her limbs refuse to obey her commands.  She’s hypnotised.  And when the king wraps his powerful arms around her body, she feels warm and afraid no more.  She feels secure.’

As I listened to her explanation I felt a coldness stealing into my heart.  I had imagined that my mother’s loyalty to the king was the consideration for the security that the king provided her.  But as I watched the light dancing in her eyes as she spoke of the king I realised that there was an emotional attachment stronger than mere gratitude for his protection.  She was dominated by the king in body and in soul.  And I was powerless to end that domination.

‘You feel an attachment to the king, don’t you?’ I asked rhetorically.  ‘Is the king attached to you?’

I knew that question would hurt.  I glanced at the king sitting on his throne.  Detached and unconcerned.  Mindful only of defending his territorial rights.  His property rights.  How could he feel attached to his property, an object that owned, an object with no feelings of its own.  And females were properties to be owned.

‘The king…’ my mother was at a loss for words.  ‘The king does not need anything… or anyone.  What could I give him that he does not have?  He does not need me for protection.  Nor does he need me for food.  Nor even to cure his madness.  There are others who can cure his madness.’

I bit my lips and pursued the subject relentlessly: ‘Don’t you wish you were the only one, Mother, the only one able to cure his madness?  Then he would be attached to you the same way that you are attached to him.’

My mother did not reply.  She gazed at the king lounging in his throne and she tried to imagine what it would be like to have him all to herself.  She would not need to share him with her half-sisters.  She would be unique in his eyes.

‘In fact if each king takes just one female, there will be enough males and females for each other,’ I continued breathlessly as the idea grew in my mind.  ‘There will be no need for males to fight each other for females.  And no need for sons to leave their father’s pride and wander to faraway and strange places.  Wouldn’t that be wonderful?’

‘Then mothers would not have to lose their sons.’  She looked at me wistfully and concluded: ‘Yes, that would be wonderful.’

‘Yes.  And fathers and sons can live in harmony.  A splendid idea.  Do you think the king will approve of the idea too?’ I asked excitedly.

My mother’s smile faded slowly.  The light in her eyes died.

‘It cannot be.’

‘Why not, Mother?’

‘The king’s madness is more than one person’s ability to cure.  A female’s power waxes and wanes with the sun and the moon.  There are times when the madness comes, and I have no power over it.  So the king will go to one of your aunts who have the power.  In that sense we take turns to cure his madness.’

‘Then the king must learn to control his own madness.  So that fathers and sons can live together.’

My mother turned to look into my eyes, piercing the dark veil of my fears, and seeing only the greatness that she believed in.

‘One day, you will be a king too.  And you will be stricken with madness stronger and more powerful than your father’s.  If you have only one queen, how can she alone cure all your madness?’

‘But I don’t have this madness,’ I protested.  ‘I don’t want to have this madness and I don’t need to be cured of this madness.  I can be happy with just one queen.  We can build a new world where we can be free from this madness.’

My mother shook her head.  She was not convinced by the babble of a child.  ‘You are still young.  You do not understand the changes that await you.  We can talk about this when you’re older.  But I doubt you would wish it then.’

That was her reaction to my brave new ideas.  To her, time was the ultimate test of all ideas.  If they survived the test, they could be dragged out of the closet of your mind, richer for the input of new experiences.  If they did not, they were best left untried and forgotten.

L

The beginning of the end.  It came like the shadows of the night, stealing into your cave unseen and unheard.  You jumped up suddenly to see the shadows everywhere dancing on the walls of your cave and begging at your feet, and you wondered where they came from and when they arrived.  You could not tell when the day ended and the night began.  So it was with the beginning of the end.

In retrospect I think the end began the day the monster dropped out of the sky.

It was the day we hid in our trenches while the storm lashed mercilessly and the flame trees shivered around us.  There was a sharp crack and one of the bamboo trees crashed to the ground.  It was a bad omen.  My mother drew us closer to her bosom apprehensively.

When the rain clouds parted, the sun always sparkling most brilliantly after a storm, returned to smile at our cold feet.  I saw my father peering into the distant sea.  For a while I thought he was dazzled and dazed by the sunlight glittering on the rippling waters.  However, slight gleam in his eyes and the twitch in his ears betrayed the unease clouding his vision.  What was it that so absorbed his attention that he failed to notice the flies settling on his rump?

I was intrigued.  The thick canopy of tree tops and undergrowth of bushes restricted my view of the sea.  I wished I could climb onto that rocky throne to survey the distant waters.  Just once.  Just to sit on the throne once.  But not while the king was there.

Presently the king stirred.  He flicked his head and rose from his throne.  Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, his muscles rippled effortlessly, his mane shook to life and a new will and purpose repossessed his eyes.

He climbed down from his throne with purposeful strides, and as he moved, it seemed as if the whole jungle held its breath.  Even the leaves and bushes seemed to part respectfully at his approach to open a path for him to glide through.

I jumped onto the rocky throne.  For just one moment I revelled in its lofty grandeur and basked in the sunshine that played on its ancient hieroglyphics.  For just one moment.  I dared not stay too long.  Already, one of my aunts was frowning at me.

But in that one moment, I caught a glimpse of the monster.  It was a giant cobra holding its head high above the waters.  It was a sea dragon gliding with menace across the waters.  It was a phoenix with a pair of half-folded wings flapping behind its head.  It was all of the above and more.  It was a terrible spectacle.

What manner of creature was this?  Where did it come from?  I did not know.  It must have risen from the depths of the misty mountains of the gods and flown across the seas.  Perhaps the storm had interrupted its flight and it had touched down, not on land, but on the water.  It hesitated at the mouth of the river to the south of our hill, took a deep breath and glided up the river.

Why had it come to our island?  I had to find out.

I dashed through the jungle, skirted around the flame trees, tore through the undergrowth of bushes and lalang to the foot of the hill.  For a moment, I was at a loss.  I could not see the monster any more.  I had no idea where the monster might land.  I headed for the river to follow it downstream, brushed aside the palm leaves and looked.  I was surprised.

The monster had glided upriver till it had reached the palm trees and had remained motionless with its wings fluttering in the wind to dry like a butterfly.  The creature was huge.  Perhaps too huge to walk on land.  Instead, smaller creatures, lean and scrawny, and perched precariously on two legs were clambering onto its back or alighting on the river bank.  My heart took courage.  If the huge monster could not come on land, we were safe.  Its minions could not be stronger than my father, the king.

As I drew nearer, I watched the aliens worm their way through the forest swinging their arms like excess appendages, sometimes tripping and falling over the uneven path.  But one amongst them caught my attention.  His body was wrapped in brilliant colours and the rest of his entourage fussed and tripped themselves over him, clearing the overhanging branches for him to pass through, glancing at him now and then for confirmation that they were going the right way.

This was a prince amongst the aliens, I mused.  But while I marveled at his bright colours, I was intrigued that he had no obvious attributes to place him above the others.  He was neither stronger nor quicker than the others.  In fact, he was the opposite.  His eyes looked dull and tired, as if he had been lazing too long on a rocky throne of his own.  Every so often, the others had to stop to let him recover from the exertion.

I was so absorbed in observing the aliens that I completely forgot about my father.  I did not notice him until the aliens came to a halt amidst a sudden commotion.  My father was standing on a rock directly in the path of the alien entourage.  He roared a low menacing rumble and the aliens’ eyes were seized with fear.

‘Lion!  Lion!’ they shouted to each other in their confusion, jumped into action and rushed forward to protect their prince.  The prince stumbled backwards in an ungainly way, mindful only of his own safety.  What strange power bound the others to this alien, I could not fathom.

Encouraged by their fear, my father drew himself to his full height, magnificent with his crown of fire.  Dreadful was the sight of the muscles that rippled from his shoulders to his rump.  Still watchful of the aliens, he lept onto their path with a roar so terrible that the earth shook.

The aliens trembled and cowered at his wrath.  But their fear belied their cunning.  Within seconds, their arms were glinting with talons and claws, unsheathed from their various hiding places, talons so large and claws so sharp that they might have sprouted from the limbs of the giant monster left behind on the river bank.

My father was taken by surprise.  He hesitated.  How could these weak, tiny bodies sprout such evil-looking armour?  For once in my life, I worried for my father.  For once, I contemplated the possibility that he might have met his match.  He was not invincible after all.

The aliens took a few steps forward, brandishing their giant claws and talons.  My father stood his ground.  He would not retreat.  This was his territory and he was here to defend it.  He was king.

But even as I watched I gasped in horror as one of the aliens arched his body backwards and with a mighty jerk, one of his giant claws flew into the air straight at my father.  My father jumped aside quickly.  But I could see the shock and dismay on his face.  Within moments a cluster of giant claws and talons flew into the air and try as he would, my father could not dodge all of them.  Two of the flying talons pierced his broad shoulders and my father roared in anger and pain.  He was bewildered.  As he backed away, the aliens pressed forward to encircle my father, while new claws and talons seemed to sprout from their arms.

My father was trapped with his back to the rock.  If he turned his back to the aliens to climb the rock, he would be pierced and sliced to pieces.  He roared.  And in that roar I could hear a cry of panic and fear.  Another cry.  Another talon found its mark.  My father’s golden coat was splattered with blood.

I had to do something.  I had to save my father.  But how?  How could my untrained and undeveloped body turn the tide of the battle?

The prince!  I glanced at the prince.  He had fallen behind his entourage.  He was unarmed.  His brilliant colours shimmered in the sun.  He was vulnerable.

Something snapped in my mind.  Without a moment’s hesitation, I rushed into the battle.  The countless hours spent watching my mother take off for the kill.  The numerous times when I had sunk my fangs into smaller prey.  Instinctive reflexes unlocked in my mind and I flew straight at the prince.  He heard my battle cry.  He turned his frightened eyes towards me.  His heart turned cold.  And he screamed.  I flung myself at his shoulders and brought him to the ground.  He screamed as I bared my teeth and snarled right at his face.  But I was not strong enough to pin him down and he scampered out of my clutches.

His scream brought an instant reaction from his entourage.  They shouted with great urgency.  Their prince had fallen!  They rushed back to sweep their prince to safety.

I fled into the jungle.  With their attention divided between my father at the rock and my fleeing presence, the aliens attacked neither of us.  While the aliens formed a protective circle around their prince, my father slipped around the rock and disappeared into the jungle.

When I looked back from a safe distance, the prince had regained his composure. He had climbed the rock to survey the jungle around him and his entourage arranged themselves around the rock as if to guard him.

‘What’s the name of this island?’ the prince demanded impatiently from his new rocky pedestal.

The aliens murmured amongst themselves and shook their heads.

‘Then I shall build my city on this island,’ the prince declared proudly with the sun shining brightly on his face, ‘and I shall call it the Lion City.’

L

The aliens retraced their path to their giant host waiting by the river bank, preferring not to risk another encounter with us for the time being.  But as I watched him standing proudly and snugly in the bosom of his monstrous host gliding down the river towards the sea, I was apprehensive.  He would return.  And I contemplated his return with dread and foreboding.

As I wandered through the palm trees pondering over the aliens’ existence, I walked straight into the path of my father.  Too late.  We stood face to face for a moment, father and son.  But there was no warmth; no appreciation.  Did I not save the life of the king?  I did not look for gratitude from a king.  But I had expected at least some recognition of kinship.  But I was to be disappointed.

I saved you once, his stare seemed to say, so don’t expect any favours.

Yes.  I understood.  He was a fallen king who failed to defend his territory.  And I was a witness to his disgrace.  He saved me once.  I saved him once.  Now we were even.  And that made him even more suspicious of me.  Would I continue to submit to his kingship?  He did not know.  Neither did I.

I said nothing.  I held his cold hard stare unflinchingly.  But my heart bled for him and for the pride.  How could we withstand the next onslaught of the aliens if we were divided by our fears and suspicions?  How could we defend our territory if father and son were at war with each other?  We were doomed.

‘Get out of my way!’ my father growled.  But it was not the growl of an angry, domineering father.  Instead, it was the growl of an old tired warrior whose body had been wounded by too many battles and whose heart had been weighed down by too much fear.

I said nothing.  I moved away.  I moved on towards my destiny.  I was the shooting star that had crash-landed on this island.  I was the first-born who was destined for greatness.  But what would future generations of lions remember me for?  Was it this one chance meeting with a prince who came in the belly of a winged dragon?  Was it this one reckless deed by which a son saved his father’s life?  Was it this one vision of a new social order?  A new social order where fathers need not sit alone on their rocky thrones, sons need not flee the pride to fend for themselves, and mothers and daughters need not slave all year round in exchange for a sense of security?

Yes, a vision.  It was no longer the babble of a lion cub, too frightened to leave the pride and fend for himself.  The arrival of the aliens had changed all that.  It was now a matter of the survival of the whole pride.  No king could defend his territory against the aliens alone.  The king needed help.  The king needed his princes.  And each prince needed his princess.  And each princess?  Each princess needed greater power over her prince’s madness.  Only then could the pride be strong.  Only then could the pride defend itself. If each princess' power were to wax and wane with the moon, then we are doomed forever -- father against son, brother against brother -- so, I had a vision.

It was the beginning of the end of an era.  But what the end was, I did not know.  I was too young.  I did not know what the king’s madness was.  I did not know why sometimes a female had no power to cure it.  I did not know why the king did not limit himself to just one female so that there would be enough females for every male lion.  There were many other things that I did not know then.  I did not know about the alien pirates who hid amongst the mangrove swamps west of the Dragons’ Teeth.  Or those who lived amongst the coconut trees on the sandy beaches on the eastern tip of the island.  I only knew that I had to run and tell my mother, my brother and my sister about my vision so that the pride might survive.

G