The Man Who Sired a Legend

By Robert J. Page

Daedalus invented it, Ariadne made it, Theseus used it. When Theseus slays the Minotaur he breathed life into the myth by producing a bulls head, thus ensuring his immortality for 4,000 years. However he left a loose end. The rediscovery of the technology that was woven into the magic thread started to unravel the true story. “The man who sired a legend” turns myth into reality. An Athenian genius is kidnapped. A passionate affair between Taurus and Pasiphae results in an unplanned pregnancy, which gives birth to this tale. Wars are fought heroic deeds are done, sex and violence ensue. Warning; Enter this labyrinth at your own risk.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Apr 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483407937

Book preview

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CHAPTER

1

Y ule lay on her front and moved her head to one side. The movement sent another shock of pain down her back. Through her tears, she could barely see the body of her dead husband, Zigel, and the spears that had killed him. She lifted her hand to her eyes again, sending pain down her back, which made her moan. Her eyes still smarted from the ash of the fire, which still glowed dimly. It was now quiet; everyone had left. She could not move, for her back had been broken, and she knew her fate was to be a painful, lingering death. Ebo, her husband’s brother, had ordered it so.

Even though the early morning was cold, Yule felt beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She saw the moon rise. In its dim light, something moved. In an instant, she recognized the source of movement: a snake! Not just any snake, but a highly poisonous black mamba. Yule pursed her lips and made a squeaking noise, imitating the sound of a bush rat. The snake reacted, its head held high. Again Yule squeaked. The snake glided towards her and stopped within striking distance. Yule pursed her lips once more, and as she squeaked, Yule threw her head back, exposing her jugular vein. She did not feel the snake strike, for the pain in her back was too intense. The mamba recoiled. They looked at each other in the moonlight. Yule felt the venom beginning to spread through her body. She thanked the snake as it turned and slithered across the compound. Yule knew she would be dead in minutes; her thoughts went to her son, and she summoned all her strength to call out his name one last time: Mangolee! Her voice trailed off as she died.

The mamba sped off across the compound and entered the cattle corral at the far end. The cattle were already restless from the smell of fresh blood. As the snake entered the corral, the cows pushed out of the way. The mamba passed on until an old bull named Jimbo stepped into its path, snorting and pawing the ground. The bull charged at the snake, trying to trample it as he jumped over the top. The snake struck upward, striking the bull’s testicles and penis. Jimbo bellowed and kicked; his hoof sent the snake high in the air; it landed on the corral’s thorny barricade, only slightly dazed. After a while, the snake recovered and crawled down through the canopy of the thorn trees.

Ebo stuck his head out of the hut and asked the sentry what was going on. Yule is dead, the guard replied. Ebo hauled himself out of his hut and strolled across the compound, passing some of the dogs who were waking from their drug-induced sleep. His guards followed him. He could see his brother’s body and those of Zigel’s friends and allies. Ebo’s forces had killed about twenty men that night, and he had broken Yule’s back with his shield.

The women had gathered around. Who did this? Ebo demanded. Who put the bitch out of her pain? He kicked at Yule’s body with such force that she rolled over. The women gasped and recoiled; Yule’s face was contorted in what seemed like a smile. Ebo again snarled, Who has done this?

No one answered. Instead, they pointed at the snake tracks. Ebo did not see them at first, but then he saw the unmistakable tracks of a mamba. He heard the women mumbling, Yule called the mamba to take her spirit. Ebo followed the tracks winding towards the cattle pen. Inside the pen, Jimbo stood with legs spread, head low, ears drooped, frothing at the mouth, eyes rolled back.

Ebo ran to the fence, spear in hand. Followed by a small crowd, he reached the fence as the great bull sank to its knees, then rolled over, gave a few kicks, and died. Ebo looked around to see if there was any sign of the snake. The women were now saying that Yule had killed the great Jimbo to take his spirit to protect her son Mangolee. Ebo cursed and ran back through the village. The mamba had to be near at hand. They would hunt it and kill it. If he did not, it would be seen as bad medicine. He silently vowed to find and kill the mamba; then Yule’s spirit would be no more.

All the rest of the day, every available man searched for the snake, while the women took the remaining cattle to grass and water. In the evening, Ebo and his men returned to the village. They had found no sign of the snake. Zigel’s men, who had been massacred the night before, still lay where they had fallen and had started to decay.

Ebo ordered the men to drag the bodies to a clearing for the vultures to pick, as was the tradition of Ebo’s clan. When the herd returned to the pen, two of the quieter cows were harnessed and used to help drag Jimbo’s carcass to the clearing. The whole village turned out to see this much-feared and -revered bull being dragged out. This bull had fended off leopards and hyenas and chased many bystanders, sending them up a tree while he pawed and scraped the ground below. Now his lifeless, spiritless body was being hauled away. What leopards and hyenas had failed to do, Yule had done. No one believed differently. They had heard her call Mangolee’s name. She was now taking the great Jimbo’s spirit to her son.

CHAPTER

2

O n a chilly morning, men from the village were preparing to leave with the cattle. As Mangolee helped remove the thorns from the compound entrance, he could see his own breath floating away on the breeze. The cattle waited quietly, knowing they would be taken to graze some way from the village. His uncle Ebo was in charge, as Mangolee’s father, Chief Zifel, was away with a big raiding party to gather more cattle to send to the north to trade.

With a shortage of men in the village, there was some friction. Yule was arguing fiercely with Ebo, her brother-in-law. Yule demanded that Ebo leave at least one man with the sick cow that had calved overnight. The cow was all right but had pinched a nerve in her back leg. She hobbled badly and would be easy prey, so she needed to stay close to the village. Ebo shrugged his shoulders and waved his rather short arms, saying he needed all the men. Then he pointed at the boys and said, They need to learn sometime. He turned his back on Yule and walked away. Yule, fuming, ran after him to confront him again. He was unmoved and determined to make his point. Ebo brushed past her as he made his way out of the compound, followed by the men herding the cattle. Yule stood and watched; she could hear the little brindle cow bellowing in the background, not wanting to be left behind.

How dare Ebo leave a cow that needed watching to boys? It was and always had been men’s work! He left her with no choice but to send her son and his two cousins to look after the cow. The cow needed to graze and soon settled contentedly with her new calf by her side. She hobbled out of the compound, followed by Mangolee and his cousins. Yule handed a spear to each boy as she instructed them not to let the cow go beyond a line of trees in the distance. She looked at the boys and shook her finger, saying, Don’t muck around or go falling out, or I will box your ears when you return. This is men’s work. The boys looked at Yule and knew she meant business; indeed, this was men’s work and to be taken seriously.

Yule watched the three boys stroll off with spears over their shoulders, Mangolee also carrying the water pouch his mother had given him. The cow had stopped to pick at a blade of grass. Yule was a little apprehensive about the boys. Mangolee was only 12 years old, and his older cousin was two years older. She reassured herself with the fact that no lions had been seen or tracked in recent days.

When the boys reached the trees Yule had pointed out, they slumped down in the shade so they could watch the cow and calf. They had a good view of the countryside around them, including a little rough grass some distance away near the dried-up stream bed. Mangolee’s cousins made themselves comfortable, telling Mangolee to keep watch. Mangolee didn’t get along with Mello and Khan, as they resented the fact that he was the chief’s son. Over the years, Mangolee had fought with Mello and Khan, and Mangolee would always win. Yule expected nothing less, and Mangolee would endure any amount of pain rather than face his mother defeated. Mangolee leaned back against the tree, spear in hand, and scanned the area. He watched the cow and calf making their way slowly towards them. His eyes wandered to the rough grass. Just as he began to sip from the water skin, Mangolee saw some movement in the tall grass. A bird rose up into a small thorn bush. Another small movement caught his eye – just a flicker; all his senses were alert. He felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. Saying nothing, he poked his cousin with the end of his spear, not taking his eye off the spot in the grass. Mello was about to protest but sensed danger and nudged his brother. They rose quietly and crouched next to Mangolee. What is it?

Mangolee whispered, There – in the rough grass. As he said the words, there was the merest ripple in the grass. They all saw it, and Khan said quietly, Lion.

The three boys eyed up the distance from the lion to the cow, the cow to the compound, the lion to themselves. Mangolee took charge. Let’s make as much noise as we can. The women and the old men will hear us. We’ll try to scare off the lion and turn the cow and calf towards the village. There was no time to argue; the boys raced forward, screaming and shouting, waving their arms in the air.

The cow turned and started limping towards the village. Mangolee could see a figure already at the gate. The cow was slow. He saw Khan and Mello ahead of the cow and could hear his mother shouting, Mangolee, turn and face!

As he turned, he saw the lioness bounding at him to get to the fleeing cow and calf. Mangolee crouched, arm back, spear at the ready. He watched as it leaped to pounce on the cow. He aimed his spear at the great chest now exposed. Mangolee instinctively jumped to one side. The great beast brushed past, barely missing him with its outstretched claws. She hit the ground and drove the spear deep into herself. Mangolee had missed her chest and had struck her in the belly. She tried to turn on the boy. The spear had severed her spine, and her hind quarters dragged lifelessly behind her. She was a snarling mass of fury, her amber eyes fixed on his. He jumped back as she dragged herself forward, then turned and snapped at the end of the spear still embedded in her. Yule was the first to reach her son, followed by the other women. They started to form a ring around the lioness, shouting to Mangolee to keep back out of harm’s way. The lioness turned in circles, not able to pick out a target. Some of the dogs had arrived and joined in noisily with her torment. The cousins now appeared with their spears. They were making to finish the lioness off. Yule rushed across and snatched the spears from them. Her eyes wild with excitement, she called to Mangolee and handed him the spears. This is your lion now; finish her, my son."

Mangolee, spears in hand, stepped forward. The lion reacted and turned towards him. It was then that one of the camp dogs, who were on the far side, saw his chance to sink his teeth into the lioness’s rear paw. As she swung around to meet her new assailant, Mangolee’s spear struck right behind her shoulder blade. She twisted and rolled over in the blood-stained dust. A huge shout of excitement went up as she kicked her last throes of life. Some of the old men of the village had assembled and were inspecting the lioness. They recognised her as the dreaded Notch Ear. Yule joined them and looked at the animal more carefully. It was indeed, without any question, the much feared Notch Ear. This sent Yule bounding and leaping with joy, screaming at the top of her voice, My son has killed the dreaded Notch Ear. The other women and children joined Yule in her dance and chanting her son’s praises. After a while even the old men got caught up in the euphoria. All danced and chanted Mangolee’s name except for Ebo’s sons.

It was an hour before dusk. The women, old men, and children had not let up. Some of the men returning with the cattle ran on to see what all the fuss was about. They pushed through the circle to see the mighty Notch Ear slumped with the two spears in her. You see what my son has done! screamed Yule, who was now worked up in a state of hysteria. She started to berate the men. When Ebo arrived, this was too much for her and she unleashed her fury on him. She accused him of being no better than his sons, saying how they had run away, leaving Mangolee to face the lion on his own. Ask these people, she said, pointing to those around her. Ask them. They saw how my son became a man, whilst your sons ran like the children they are.

Ebo had had enough. As the cows arrived, he quickly went to help the other men, because the smell of the lion threatened to spook the cattle when they had to pass. Mangolee watched with wide-eyed excitement. He could hear Yule’s voice say, We are skinning this lion and placing the skin around the man who killed her.

Later that night, when all were gathered around the fire, Yule got up and told the story of the day’s events. And the night after and the night after – again. She insisted that when the other children go to their huts Mangolee should stay; it was his right.

On the third night Ebo could contain his anger no more, saying that Mangolee should go with the rest, that his sons would have killed the lion had she not snatched the spears from them. The lion was his, she retorted. Not dead, but as good as. He faced her alone, as everyone had seen.

He got lucky! Ebo shouted. He is not a man. How could he be? He is not even circumcised. Yule’s eyes glared. Mangolee, she said, come here. The young man stood by his mother. Stand, my son. Then she bent over and picked up a flint which had been used to skin the lion. Mangolee knew what she intended to do and knew what was expected. He felt her move the lion skin to one side. Then a strange thing happened. All he could see was the amber eyes of Notch Ear as she struggled to reach him. All he could hear was her snarls, and the excitement flowed through him. He was snapped back into the present by his mother’s voice proclaiming him to be a man!

Did you see him flinch? she demanded. Mangolee was aware of a slight stinging sensation, but his mind was taken off the fact by what was going on around him. Yule was wound up; she had endured much at the hands of others over the years, Mangolee having been her only child. She was looked down upon and laughed at by some of the other women, but her son was a hero, and no one could deny her triumph.

Mangolee saw things were getting out of hand. He saw the look on Ebo’s face, and then he heard himself order his mother to their hut. To his amazement, she stopped, bowed to her son, and went quietly. Everyone was stunned into silence. More than all the shouting she had done, this one act of submission said it all. Whilst his father was away, he – Mangolee – was the head of the family. She who had given the orders now submitted to his will.

Over the next three days things settled down and returned to normal. Mangolee stayed in his hut whilst his wound healed, not wanting to accidently knock himself. His mother regularly attended him, bringing him ointment to help the healing and make sure no infection started. She told her son that he was such a hero that he would have his pick of the women, not only in their own village, but any Maasai village he visited, and that all the storytellers had visited most of the villages and told of Notch Ear’s death. The lioness had claimed many lives over the last few years. She was an old lion who, for reasons best known only to her, lived a solitary life and had developed a taste for human flesh. That afternoon the first party of men returned from the raids with some fine cattle. This caused much excitement. The old men gathered around looking at the cattle and wanting news of how things had gone. Ebo was asking about his brother Zifel’s whereabouts. One of the herders said they thought he would be home in two or three days. They should have with them more than enough cattle to take north to trade for the much prized bronze spearheads. Zifel had already sent men north to prepare the way by negotiating safe passage through lands to a point where they would trade with another tribe. The Mutan took the cattle on to the great sea far to the north and there traded for the bronze. Tales were still told of the men who came from the land out of the great sea, who had brought the first bronze. They had stayed and lived with the Maasai for almost a year and had learnt much of their language. These men were small, with light skins and had endeared themselves to the Maasai, who saw them as no threat. They were intrigued by the bronze spearheads they had brought. No Maasai parted with a cow lightly, but somehow these men made the trade for some of their best cows. That first year they had escorted the men with the cows all the way to the great sea in the north. This herd of cattle would be the fourth lot to be sent. They no longer took them all the way themselves, preferring to trade at the halfway point with the Mutan. This meant that the men were able to return to their villages to face any consequences of retaliatory raids from the disgruntled tribes in the south.

CHAPTER

3

T he night was dark, lit only by the sparks that flew high into the sky. The men who were gathered around the smouldering embers scraped embers onto the back of a shield. Ebo’s men were ordered to take position outside of a few huts. Ebo and three of his warriors, one carrying the shield with the hot embers, crossed to Zifel’s hut. Removing Zifel’s spear, which lay against the hut, pulling back the skin covering the door, the warrior carrying the shield moved quickly forward, throwing the ashes and embers through the door onto the sleeping couple. Ebo issued his challenge. Come out and face me like a man! he y elled.

Zifel staggered through the door of the hut, half blinded by the ash, reaching for his spear. Ebo, taking full advantage, drove his spear into Zifel. As Zifel hit the ground, Ebo took Zifel’s own spear and ran it clean through him. Yule now crawled out of the hut, coughing, covered in ash, with some of the hot coals still clinging to her. She started to rise but stumbled over Zifel’s body. She felt Ebo’s foot on her back, pinning her down. Hearing him ask for the shield, she turned her head to one side, for she could now see out of only one eye, just making out Zifel’s body and the spears that had killed him.

See what you have done! yelled Ebo. Yule looked up to see him with the heavy shield held high. He then brought it down on her back with a mighty blow. Yule screamed. When she tried to move her legs, they didn’t respond. Ebo had broken her back. Every time she tried to move, she cried out in pain. Ebo kicked out at her, saying, Nobody is to put the bitch out of her misery. Anyone who does will answer to me.

Yule was aware her husband was not the only one to have been killed that night. She had heard the screams of others as they were being murdered. Her thoughts turned to her son, and she called out his name: Mangolee!

Ebo rounded on her, kicking her again, saying, He cannot save you, nor can you now save him from his fate. Hearing these words caused her more pain than her injuries. She would have begged for forgiveness and asked for her son’s life to be spared. Knowing Ebo would only have laughed in her face, she kept her silence. Besides, for now Mangolee was away on the drive with her brothers to watch over him.

CHAPTER

4

E ach day started early. Some of the men who had stood guard all night now sat and ate, while others drove the cattle on. The herd were kept close together and pushed along where there was little to forage. At other times they slowed, and the cattle were allowed to graze and browse. The men would sing and chant throughout the day. This helped to keep the cattle together and let everyone know the each other’s whereabouts. The team of drovers were some twenty strong, all armed with spears, and would face lions if they had to. However, as Mangolee was soon to find out, some things needed a different approach. Some animals needed gentle persuasion to move, while others were better left where they were. The men would take a detour instead. The big bull elephant was a case in point. Waterholes always caused problems. When they met a bull elephant at one, there was nothing to do but to wait until it was safe to let the cattle drink.

Mangolee had fallen into the routine and was enjoying his new status. He was treated as an equal. One of Yule’s brothers was in charge. Despite the old bull elephant and small group of buffalo, things had gone well. He now sat eating, having taken his turn overnight on sentry duty. The cattle had been moved on, leaving him and six others to their meal. One of the men got to his feet and pointed. They all arose to see a small party of men coming towards them. Mangolee immediately recognised his two cousins and the others; they were all friends of Ebo. They soon joined them, and Yule’s brother asked them why they had come.

They answered, saying that there had been trouble with some of the tribes in the south. They had gathered together, and Zifel wanted his best fighting men – Yule’s two brothers and six others – to return as quickly as they could. Mangolee felt it odd that his two cousins, who had not faced a lion, had been allowed along.

Mangolee’s uncle sent him with the news to catch the others with the herd. He started at a run, the trail being easy to follow. He soon found the herd grazing on the hillside. He found his other uncle and told him to return to the camp with the other men who had been named to decide what should be done. He had no way of knowing that would be the last time he was to see his uncles.

The mood among the men seemed to have changed. Even the singing and chanting seemed to strike a more sombre note. Each day they pushed steadily north. Aware of being watched, sometimes catching a glimpse of their watchers, they reached a village. Cattle were taken from the herd and tethered as payment for whatever deal had been struck. The Maasai had been this way many times before, even this far north. The deal being honoured, they passed on their way peaceably.

Mangolee had seen his cousins. They seemed to want to say something to him. Each time he turned to them, they seemed to back off. After this had happened several times over the last few days, Mangolee followed them into the bush. He could hear the head man saying, Why haven’t you challenged him? You are cowards. Call him out and fight like men. You two are older.

His eldest cousin looked down. He killed the great Notch Ear.

So, said the head man, your father sends you to redeem yourselves. You must be the ones to kill him, no one else.

Mangolee slipped away and returned to his task but prepared to face his cousins. He knew that under Maasai law, if a man accused another of being a coward, they had the right to trial by combat. That it had been Yule who had accused them made no difference.

Mangolee made sure he kept his cousins in his sights at all times. It was the last day before the cattle were to be traded to the Mutan tribe, who would take them on further north. It was late afternoon, and again his two cousins made to approach him. Mangolee raised himself to his full height and prepared himself for battle. His cousins eyed him up and down but again lost their nerve, turned, and left. For the head man who had been watching from the sidelines, this was too much. He came in with a torrent of abuse for the two boys. Mangolee watched in bemusement. Then all went black.

Mangolee had not seen who delivered the blow. His head thumped as he came round. He felt the leather bonds cutting into his flesh. It was dusk, and he noticed the men around the fire, arguing amongst themselves. You should have called him out and killed him, said the head man. We will not kill him for you.

The older cousin stood up and walked towards Mangolee. The head man followed. We can’t take him back to our father, said the boy.

No, he would not forgive or understand why you would not call him out to fight, said the head man.

I will kill him now, said the young man.

No, it would take only one man here to break his silence to bring shame on us all. The head man glanced back at the others.

The eldest boy said, Then we must all strike him with our spears. That way no one will talk. The head man reluctantly agreed, returning