AN: *Warning*
Gore ahead.
(Duh…)
CAPUT XII – SANGUIS PRIMA (First Blood)
(Scar)
He had hunted before. He had fought before. But never like this.
As soon as Scar entered the arena of the Carthaginian amphitheater, he knew that he was in trouble. Of course, he understood that he would be forced to fight, but this was all supposed to look very differently! He imagined that he would have Zidi and Jo by his side to help him out in the battle. After all, this was precisely why he had gone through the effort of trying to convert the experienced lionesses to his side.
But now, he was stuck with no one but Mufasa… He could only thank himself for the genius plan of wooing his brother by removing his collar. Mufasa, though alone, was still pretty big, and could at least serve as a living shield.
Scar remembers their hunts together, back in the Pridelands, when they were only kids. Those happened only occasionally, as the kiongozi of the Lion Guard spent most of his time with his fellow guardians, and was generally exempt from hunting. But every once in a while, their father would take him and Mufasa to the savanna, to observe both his sons' developing skills.
All of that ended with queen Uru's death. When Ahadi set out on his self-imposed exile due to the guilt he felt after his mate's accidental death (the same guilt which his younger son had planted deep in his mind), Scar and Mufasa hardly even spoke to one another, let alone hunted.
But now, no matter how much he tried to deny it, Scar needed his brother there by his side. When he too looked up toward the spots where the human spectators sat, immediately being stunned by the blinding light and overwhelming noise, he felt his weak legs shake. He noticed that even the mighty Mufasa looked greatly troubled by the scent of the sand underneath their feet, which seemed to only thinly cover a whole lake of blood that had belonged to countless creatures of various species.
He had not felt so weak since the day the Old Kings took the Roar of the Elders away from him. Recalling that dreadful event made him cringe. Perhaps, his ancestors had finally decided to exact their revenge on him, through the hands of the humans…
But, if they did, why was his brother there?
Not failing to notice the blankness in Scar's usually sharp eyes, Mufasa sent him a reassuring look.
The brothers' eyes met.
-"Udugu," – said the older one of them, and nodded.
Scar knew that udugu was an old word for 'kinship', the brotherly bond between lions of the same blood.
Yes, Mufasa. Udugu – thought the younger lion, also nodding. – Keep pretending as if that is still the truth. And keep pretending that you are not afraid. It's either that, or death.
They now stood side by side, looking up at the gathered crowd. The amphitheater, which could seat 30 thousand men, was about half-full. The building was composed of a circle of arches supported by columns. On the walls, there were eerie pictures representing animals being killed in a score of different ways.
When the lion brothers, having gotten used to the sun, roared at the mass of humans in anger and defiance, their voices amplified by the enormous edifice's acoustics, the mob answered with an outburst of excitement.
Then, a bald man standing on a podium towering above the arcades, draped in white, lifted his hands, and all went as silent as a crowd of 15 thousand could possibly be.
Scar recognized this loathsome master of ceremonies.
-"Grassus," – he spat out the name, addressing his brother. – "Our owner."
Mufasa bared his sharp fangs, yet stood silent, staring straight at the man even though he couldn't understand his words.
-"Domini dominaeque Carthaginis! Iterum salvete! Mox cuius sanguis nunc effusa erit in medio arenae, homini vel leonis, videbimus! Plaudite, amici! Plaudite!" *
Grassus began beating his chubby hands together like a maniac, laughing. Surprisingly, the humans followed his lead, and the volume of the racket became so intense that it almost gave Scar a headache.
The master of ceremonies then pointed at him and his brother.
-"In hoc angulo, duo leones breve de Africa Meridiana adducti, bestiae fortissimae! Laus!" *
Another wave of applause, after which Grassus raised his hand again, pointing toward the gate in the adjacent wall.
-"Et in hoc angulo, ascensores nostri celebrissimi, Sulo et Haca, Venatores Aethiopi! Fortuna eos adiuvet!" *
Grassus modulated with his voice like a professional orator, introducing the contestants of this bloody game, making the spectators lose their minds from anticipation. Amidst all the shouting, Scar could hear a metallic sound, and the huge metal door began to lift. Both him and his brother fixed their eyes at the door, nervously awaiting what monstrosity would emerge from the other side.
What face shall my demise have… father? – the dark lion, unsure if searching for hope still had any sense, absentmindedly addressed one of his hated ancestors.
The gaping black hole of the gate stood open before them, and Scar clenched his fangs even tighter. His breath was weak and unsteady. The speed of the blood rushing through his skull blurred his sight, and the power with which his heart beat caused him physical pain.
Just like on the day he lost the Roar. But what he also vaguely recalled from that devastating event, were the words with which the Old Kings had addressed him.
We will not kill you. You will live on, and may your scars remind you of your shame.
You cannot kill me… - he whispered back at them now, his thoughts flooded with venom and anguish. – You've bound yourselves with your word…
In the meantime, his brother, also shaking with emotion, kept gazing at the mass of humans above their heads. There were men and women of all walks of life, recognizable by the quality of the seats they occupied and the state of their clothing. Most of them were inebriated. Some figuratively, others literally.
-"Savages…" – said the dumbstruck king. – "How can seeing other creatures die entertain them so much?"
Scar had no time to respond to that question. He finally saw who was to be their opponent when a big strong horse suddenly jolted from inside the bowels of the amphitheater, making the humans shriek in joy.
But the problem was that it wasn't just the horse. Behind his back, the equine was pulling a light wooden cart, on top of which stood something that looked like a human. The creature was hard to recognize, as its body was mostly covered in glistering metal armor. As the chariot sped through the arena, kicking up dust with its iron wheels, its driver waved his dark-skinned hand at the crowd, which shouted the hunter's name.
SU-LO! SU-LO! SU-LO!
Scar was just about to comment on this odd contraption, but then, suddenly, a second chariot appeared, just like the first one, only riding in the opposite direction. This one's driver looked almost exactly like his partner, with golden armor and dark brown skin. The spectators cried out his name, as well.
HA-CA! HA-CA! HA-CA!
The sight of the twin charioteers made Mufasa curse, what he did extremely rarely.
-"Damn," – the lion addressed his brother in anger, watching their opponents closely. – "It's two against two this time!"
Scar was having trouble keeping himself from shaking, but still had enough willpower to respond by saying:
-"That's four against two, you halfwit…"
He didn't have a chance to say anything more, however, as one of the chariots, the one driven by Sulo the Ethiopian, suddenly turned, heading straight at the brothers.
-"He's gonna run us over!" – Mufasa gasped, immediately rushing out of the way. The crowd cheered, but for whom, they knew not.
Scar also managed to narrowly avoid the horses' hoofs and, with a hammering heart, stood by his brother again, desperately trying to observe both of the chariots that were now circling around them.
-"Is their plan to keep charging until they trample us to death?" – he huffed, disoriented.
-"The humans seem to be enjoying this," - his brother responded.
The second wagon of destruction, driven by Haca, also turned their way, and the lions were forced to flee from its path as well. Only this time, they ran in opposite directions.
Finding himself alone, panting and turning his head in confusion, Scar was able to locate his brother, standing at a significant distance away.
-"What… are you doing?!" – yelped the lion, feeling extremely uncomfortable all by himself. – "Get back over here at once…"
Before he even finished the sentence, however, he gasped suddenly. After barely hearing a short swish, he fixed his eyes at the sand right in front of him. The shaft of an arrow was sticking out of the ground.
Scar turned his trembling head toward the one of the charioteers who had gone out of his sight for merely a second, and noticed that the man was holding a bow. He was also already reaching for the quiver at his side for another arrow.
He remembered the lion which the humans had shot to death just the other night, and felt a shiver running down his spine.
-"Don't just stand there! Move!" – his brother yelled at him, noticing that Scar had become petrified, which was not a good thing while being shot at.
The riders continued to circle round the arena, taking turns at targeting the one of the brothers who was closer at a given moment. Luckily for Scar and Mufasa, their chariots were shaky, and scoring a hit proved more of a challenge once both lions began zick-zacking all around chaotically.
Finally, noticing a wooden wall by the edge of the arena, they both ran to hide behind it in order to escape the constant rain of sharp projectiles.
After scaring away the human guards who stood there, Mufasa collapsed with his back against the boards. Scar soon joined him, gasping for air and putting a paw to his aching chest.
-"They gotta… run out of arrows… at some point!" – his brother tried to console the younger lion.
Scar, however, had no strength in him to respond. What was worse, Mufasa soon filched, as one of the arrowheads pierced the wood right by his shoulder.
-"Gah!" – the king's eyes went wide. Scar thought that he had not seen his brother so terrified in quite some time.
-"We've got to get out of here!" – Mufasa announced, proving that he was genuinely concerned for his life, probably for the first time ever.
His sibling didn't like that idea, though.
-"Go mate yourself! I'm not going anywhere!" – he snapped back, finally able to stand up on his legs again.
Unfortunately, the spectators did not enjoy not being able to see the lions. Noticing their discontent, Grassus the Beastmaster motioned at the guards.
A bunch of heavily armored handlers then appeared out of nowhere with spears, trying to force both lions to return to the arena.
Mufasa only hesitated because his brother refused to go, but Scar was far more stubborn.
-"RAH!" – he roared at the guards as loud as he could. – "Leave me alone, you filth…"
The humans, however, were not there to play. As soon as they saw the animal's defiance, they began to poke him with their sharp prods.
Scar groaned, moved back by a few paces, and looked at his shoulder in horror.
-"I'm bleeding…" – he gasped. Before he was able to do anything else, another spearhead struck him in the snout, nearly gouging out his eye.
This time, the lion cried out in genuine fear. This reminded him of a certain past event which had scarred him for life, both physically and mentally. So much so that it made him change his name.
Seeing that he was hurt, Mufasa encouraged his brother to follow him even more eagerly. Finally, the desperate younger lion agreed.
Once again they were out in the open, exposed to the charioteers' ranged attacks. One of them, having indeed run out of arrows, now brandished a long javelin, much to the crowd's enjoyment.
-"What now…?" – Scar yelped, his tail between his legs.
It was apparent that the charioteer was charging straight at them again, wishing to get close enough to throw his pilum at one of the lions. They could hear the horse neigh, and the ground shake underneath the animal's hoofs and the wheels of the chariot.
-"Stay put!" – Mufasa suddenly issued an order which seemed completely insane, assuming a battle pose.
Has he gone mad…? – thought his brother.
The chariot was already so close that Scar could see the driver's dark eyes, peeking out through the holes of his helmet. The man smiled as he lifted his javelin.
He wasn't able to stand this anymore. Fearing that both of them would be run over, Scar quickly jumped aside, forcing the Ethiopian to turn in order to aim at him again properly.
And that was exactly what Mufasa was waiting for.
Showing exceptional courage, he stayed put, even as he already stood face to face with the horse. Then, at the very moment when the charioteer got distracted with his fleeing brother, the huge lion opened his mouth, roaring from the top of his voice, and rose up on his hind legs, stretching out him clawed paws as if getting ready to pounce.
The terrified horse froze, slipping on the sand. Then, neighing horribly, he stood erect, kicking the air with his front legs.
-"Eheu, merdaaa!" – yelled the rider as his chariot quaked underneath his feet. His javelin slipping from his hand, he stumbled and lost his balance, falling over head-long onto the arena.
-"Sulo!" – his partner yelled his way. – "Sursum, insane!"
But the gladiator was not fast enough. Seeing the huge Mufasa charging at him, he had to quickly flee away from his chariot. Puling out his short sword from its scabbard, he pointed it at the furious feline, panting. The two began circling around one another.
In the meantime, Scar found himself alone by the bewildered abandoned horse. For some reason, this made him think of his first kill. It was years ago, back in the Pridelands, when he was just a short-maned adolescent. Though a prince, Scar, who had still been called Taka at that time, was not allowed to hunt on his own yet, at least not until an official first lone venture into the savanna. It was a custom of the royal family, and one which, by precedence, ought to have been completed by Mufasa first. Taka, however, had a reason for breaking these rules. Namely, bribing the local hyena pack, and winning them over to his side.
He had succeeded then, and brought the hyenas an antelope. He specifically recalled how proud his first kill made him feel. After that, he hunted gazelles, wildebeests, zebras… Zebras which were the size of horses. Like the one standing in front of him.
The stallion's leg was stuck in his harness, and since he was occupied with trying to free himself, he failed to notice the dark lion creeping in on him from the side.
Scar felt enchanted with the screams of the humans, crying out for blood. It amplified his inner wrath. And, for the first time, he could partially understand them.
When he pounced at the defenseless horse, clinging to his neck, some of the humans cheered. When he buried his fangs in the animal's throat, making his blood spill on the sand, a few of them even stood up.
But when the stallion began to desperately jump around, neighing and begging for his life, with the persistent predator still attached to his body and tearing deeper into it with his fangs and claws, the show Scar put on caused the crowd to erupt in a wave of applause.
Feeling a rush of adrenaline and the taste of blood, the dark cat brought his victim to the ground. As he was squeezing the last bits of life out of it, he managed to catch a glimpse of the expression on his brother's face.
Mufasa, noticing the commotion, turned around from the sword-wielding gladiator for a while, only to notice that in a short time since he stopped the chariot, his brother had already managed to slaughter the man's horse. Scar had trouble distinguishing whether Mufasa was showing shock, admiration, or both. But either way, the dark lion liked it.
-"Scar!" – the older brother then yelled, his voice assuming a note of rebuke. – "The horses are not our enemy! Focus on the humans!"
That damned wise-guy… - the victorious lion thought to himself.
Then, having made sure that his prey had breathed its last, relaxing his jaws, he lifted his head and, with blood dripping from his chin, he answered:
-"You focus on the humans!"
He said that in the nick of time, as the Ethiopian was already charging at Mufasa, sword in hand. The lion dodged the attack with a furious snarl.
But Scar could not savor this little victory for long. Noticing that his partner was in trouble, the other gladiator, the one who was still on his chariot, charged to his aid. And what was worse, he still had his bow with him, as well.
Clenching his fangs, yet invigorated with excitement, Scar jumped away from the equine corpse, dodging another arrow. He had to think quick, however, as the human had his quiver ready.
And then it dawned on him.
Huh. Why, this is just like hunting a zebra!
Actually, it was even easier than that. Zebras usually ran from him. As for this horse, however, he was running toward him.
It was then that Scar realized that he did not need the Roar of the Elders. In fact, he did not need anyone at all. Not thinking much about his safety while performing such a risky action, he decided to charge straight at the speeding chariot. The audience held their breath.
Cursing, the Ethiopian hunter quickly put away his bow, grabbing the reins before an inevitable collision. Turning rapidly, he made his horse run away from the lion…
… but the lion kept pursuing.
Scar quickly understood that the humans' horses were afraid of him. And that was exactly why he had nothing to fear from them.
Having aligned himself with the escaping mount as it frothed at the mouth and waved its head in despair and horror, Scar pounced, burying his claws in the horse's buttocks. That made the animal cry out in pain, and the crowd go wild with joy. Both sounds were like music to his ears.
As the horse kicked, Scar refused to let go. The man upon the chariot was holding on for his life at this point. His instincts taking over completely, the lion managed to find support, and springing from the ground, lunged himself even further. The claws of his hind paws sinking into the horse's leg, Scar succeeded in grabbing his neck.
In a matter of seconds, he clasped his jaws around the equine's windpipe.
At this point, the chariot came to a sudden halt, rolling over into a heap. The human rider screamed, being catapulted into the air.
The impact made him black out for a moment, but even when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn't, as there was sand in them. Spitting and flailing his arms around, the gladiator tore off his helmet.
When he was finally able to see clearly, but before being able to pull out his sword, the man saw something truly terrible standing before him.
It was the sight of a furious, blood-stained Scar.
In the meantime, Mufasa had managed to subdue the other charioteer. He had done that by avoiding an attack of his sword, and knocking him to the ground. When the man attempted to defend himself, as a first expression of his revenge, Mufasa bit him in the forearm, shattering the bones with his massive jaws. Leaving the defeated gladiator with stripes of flesh dangling from his arm, screaming and no longer able to fight, he then rushed to see how his brother was doing.
But the sight Mufasa witnessed then, he had not expected.
The crowd seemed to enjoy the spectacle the lions provided them with greatly. The older one of them noticed why. Behind his back, he saw the body of another dead horse with its throat torn out. Beside it, there sat Scar, towering over a stiff charioteer.
When Mufasa approached, he heard his sibling's voice, whispering menacingly.
-"Loathsome, pathetic primate, without claws or fangs. When someone takes away your tools, you are nothing!"
When Scar heard his brother approach, he turned around and smiled, exposing his bloodied fangs. Mufasa almost gasped in shock.
Scar had eaten half of the man's face off.
He stood up as a proud victor, and Mufasa noticed that the audience was cheering for him. Scar noticed that as well. And he loved it.
-"Yes, brother. Now this is a battle!" – he said, exhibiting the most disgusting smile Mufasa had ever seen, blood still streaming down his chest.
Then, Scar lifted his head, addressing the applauding crowd.
-"Behold, you damn weaklings! This is what power looks like! Feast your eyes!"
He felt like he had himself just enjoyed a fulfilling meal after months of fasting. Only that the hunger that he felt, was that of revenge. That he fulfilled today, punishing the humans for what they had done to him.
And yet, they cheer – he said in his heart. – They applaud, even though I killed a member of their own kind. Shall they really have me do it again? Is it possible to ever experience a greater amount of such… joy?
He noticed that his brother's mouth was also red.
-"Isn't their blood sweet?" – Scar said to Mufasa, continuing to smile.
The other lion visibly cringed.
-"You're deranged!" – he said to him, both disgusted and disturbed.
But Scar paid that no attention. Instead, continuing to bask in the noise of his satisfied spectators, he walked the arena as if it were his private kingdom. And it was at that time that he noticed movement.
Turning back to Mufasa, he addressed him with a dreadful malice.
-"Oh Muffy… You mean to tell me that, while I managed to take out three of our opponents, you failed to dispatch even one? Or did you simply forget to finish the job?"
His brother now also fixed his eyes at the wounded gladiator, who was still lying in the sand, groaning in pain.
He immediately understood his sibling's intentions.
-"No, Scar! We've won!" – he insisted, turning his head in contradiction.
But his brother just laughed it off, and began to run.
-"No!" – Mufasa yelled, and pursued after him.
The human, noticing that both of the lions were after him, snapped out of his wailing fit and got back up on his feet. But when he attempted to escape, it turned out that he had also injured his leg while falling off his chariot. Tripping, the Ethiopian landed with his face in the sand. Lifting up him eyes at the audience, he desperately sought any form of help. But all he saw was cold, ruthless mockery.
The humans had turned away from the failed member of their kind, instead cheering for the beasts who were about to end his life in the most spectacular way. They no longer cried out their favorite's name. Instead, they pointed their thumbs at their throats, shouting:
MORS! MORS! MORS! *
The man still managed to stand up, and began to limp pathetically in the direction of the arena guards, crying out for help. But he was way too slow.
Noticing that he wouldn't be able to catch up with his brother, Mufasa halted, looking at the scene playing out before his eyes in horror.
He knew that his brother had a tendency to be merciless. Back in the Pridelands, some had even called him Taka the Cruel. But here, in the unforgiving environment of the arena, it seemed that all of Scar's limitations had finally been shattered.
When he caught up with the wounded gladiator, he pounced at him, pinning the man to the ground easily. As the desperate charioteer tried to defend himself with his only good hand, Scar bit him. Jerking his head around to the accompaniment of screams of pain, the lion shattered both the human's radius and his ulna in between his fangs. Then, taking his time, Scar found the exposed spot between the man's breastplate and the bottom of his helmet, and buried his teeth in his throat.
The crowd burst out in a wave of enthusiastic applause, and Grassus came forth to announce the Leones Meridiani as the winners of this battle. But Mufasa did not enjoy this victory much. Instead, he was forced to look at what his brother was doing, thoroughly disturbed.
For Scar continued to bite and chew even after his victim had stopped moving. It was as if the applause of the humans fueled his madness.
-"Brother… what has happened to you?" – Mufasa, concerned and frightened, said as he observed the darkest side of his sibling's character unfolding before his eyes.
Before the guards ran over to force them back into their dungeon, Scar had managed to completely bite the charioteer's head off, creating around him a pool of blood. The men were only able to knock the severed nob out of the lion's mouth with their spears.
The crowd laughed as if all of this was excellent comedy, while Mufasa began to question his sanity.
Walking side by side with his brother, who was now almost unrecognizable because of all the blood which stained his face and mane, he looked at him in disgust as they returned to their cell.
Scar's maniacal laugh echoed within the stone corridor.
AD: Mind you, my Latin may not be as bad as my Swahili, but it's still far from perfect ;) What Grassus says is supposed to mean roughly this:
* -Lords and ladies of Carthage, welcome back! Soon we shall see whose blood shall be spilled in the midst of the arena this time- the man, or the lion! Applause, my friends! Applause!
* -In this corner, a pair of lions that were just brought from Southern Africa, most ferocious beasts. Bravo!
* -In this corner, our famous charioteers, Sulo and Haca, the Ethiopian Hunters! May the odds be in their favor!
And 'mors' is the Latin word for death. I have a feeling we're going to see a lot more of that in the future. Let's remember that our main characters are lions. And lions are more than capable killers, especially if they enjoy it as much as Scar. Oh Scar... He don't need no Roar of the Elders to be fierce ;)
