’Twas with relief that Maelewano
Finally left the marsh.
No longer did she have to run
All day through deserts harsh.
And with Kiburi at her side,
So high her spirits soared.
She felt like they could, just them two,
Take on the quagga hordes.
Kiburi’s thoughts were similar,
Since she’d regained a friend
And she no longer was a chief;
Her stress was at an end.
They set off to meet the Mbu,
Avoiding quagga packs.
At every zebra tribe they met,
A welcome was not lacked.
Against Bilili’s claims and tauntings,
Maele was not dead.
“To die alone is rather dull;
I’d rather not,” she said.
She now had quagga enemies;
She knew her path was right.
So where her words had been requests,
They now were brands alight.
In every tribe and clan they passed,
She spoke with resolution.
Becoming one would save the zebras
From their destitution.
She made them saw it, clear as day:
A peace no one had known.
Without the quaggas, without war,
This peace could be their own.
Kiburi aided her in talks
By speaking as before;
By using Maele’s new ideals,
All could have something more.
In any tribe, they couldn’t stop;
Least, not for very long.
But the impression that they left
Was carved out great and strong.
They left a red-hot spirit bright
A-burning in their wake.
When they returned to the Mbu,
The fire could not be slaked.
And with a most unearthly speed,
The news spread ’round the plains:
That Maelewano was not dead,
But had been seen again.
Moqapi welcomed Maele back
And gave Kiburi praise
For knowing both were safe and sound
Took from her back much weight.
Their efforts to convert the tribes
Had more success than ever.
Kiburi’s presence was a boon
To helping that endeavor.
The benefits of Maele’s ways
Were plain for all to see.
And so it was each tribe became
A meritocracy.
So every zebra found their place
Among the roving tribes,
The zebras soon reclaimed their power;
More than that, they thrived.
The seasons turned, and bit by bit,
The zebras’ pride returned.
But it was not as it had been,
For this time, it was earned.
They’d once been beaten, broken down,
And not much more than dirt.
They now were to be reckoned with;
Their power they’d assert.
So long ago, they’d once held land.
They held it now once more.
By Maelewano, they were greater
Than they’d been before.
As all the zebras gathered strength,
Some quagga bands withdrew.
They’d wanted easy prey to hunt
And their abundant loot.
Bilili, though, did stay her ground;
She never could be cowed.
She’d made the zebras fall before;
She could control the crowd.
She left the forefront of the quaggas,
Faded to the back.
A puppet leader she set up
To handle all her acts.
She’d never have the zebras’ trust,
Not after what she’d done.
But if a leader new took hold,
Then they might trust that one.
This leader’s reputation soon
Was one of cowardice.
The bandits that she led were seen
As rather powerless.
She sent Maele a message short;
’Twas asking for a truce.
“No longer can our peoples handle
All of this abuse.
I’ve seen the zebras’ spirit rise;
A most impressive feat.
I know that you will beat us down.
Perhaps we can have peace?”
Though Maele’s helpers cautioned her
To view the note askance,
She said they were too cynical;
They had to take a chance.
“For if this quagga speaks the truth,
Our years of strife are finished.
And if one wins without a fight,
Is that feat then diminished?”
She picked, by hoof, some followers
To take a message back:
If an agreement both sides reached,
She would stop all attacks.
They reached the quagga bands unharmed,
As diplomats were greeted.
To them was given all respect;
They never were maltreated.
That night the proxy served for them
A truly splendid feast.
But she had drugged each of the foods
That they were set to eat.
And they began to feel light-headed
Halfway through the night.
Then one by one, they fell unconscious,
Helpless in their plight.
And when the messengers awoke,
They all were gagged and bound.
They saw a cauldron huge of stone
With fire lit around.
The cauldron’s water heated up;
Once steam was twisting high,
Bilili took each messenger
And boiled them alive.
She let one go to tell the tale;
“Where is your hero now?
You want to know how land is held?
Well, this, my friend, is how!
And if you think we’ll leave this place,
You’re nothing but a fool!
The zebras’ time is dead and gone;
’Tis now our time to rule!”
The zebra lone limped ’cross the plains,
The taunts still in her mind.
’Twas soon she wanted nothing more
Than to respond in kind.
So when to Maele she returned
And news she had delivered,
She screamed out loud for all to hear,
“Their blood should run like rivers!
That mare has no depravities
To which she will not plumb!
If she will kill our messengers,
She’s nothing more than scum!”
Though Maele’s blood did boil hot,
She said this to the tribe:
“Another fight I never want.
We’ll leave those ways behind.
But I am not a distant chief;
I’m one of the Mbu.
I feel you all should have a say.
So, please: what should we do?”
And then Moqapi raised her voice.
“I know that you want peace.
But violence is all they know;
This cruelty will not cease.
The ways of war are all they speak.
I say we speak them back.
Our zebras number thousands, more!
Those brutes we should attack.
If they surrender, beg for mercy,
Give it unto them.
We’ll only battle if we must.
But this, we must condemn!”
A spark was lit in Maele’s heart
By what Moqapi said
And war might be the only way
If peace but left them dead.
’Twas after much deliberation,
Her aides all agreed:
That if Bilili wanted war,
A war’s what she would see.
So Maele called the tribes to arms,
Threw up a rallying cry.
“The quaggas must be driven out!
Against them we shall vie!”
All zebras did take up this call,
From near to far and wide.
No more would zebras be enslaved;
No more would zebras die.
But they could never win this fight
While spread across the land
And so they rallied near the hills
Where the Mbu began.
From every corner of the earth,
The zebras trickled in
As day by day the army swelled
And more tribes joined their kin.
Although it took beyond a year,
When all was said and done,
Then Maele looked across her horde;
Completely was she stunned.
It was unseen in history,
This gathered zebra might.
The plains’ lush green had been replaced
With stripes of black and white.
A proper army was assembled
On the Endless Plains.
It stretched as far as eye could see;
To fight it was insane.
And yet Bilili would attempt
This crazy, stupid act.
’Twas not so crazy, for Bilili
Strength had never lacked.
She’d whipped up quaggas with her tales
Of vicious zebra brutes.
Those that fought and won for her
Would have great shares of loot.
Some bandits simply up and left,
For safer was their home.
But most of them, compelled by greed,
Their blades began to hone.
And so it was; the two were matched,
The equines of both types.
Each with their weapons, fighters, skills;
They’d people of all stripes.
Each marched upon the others’ force
And met upon the plains.
They set up camp and readied gear;
Their forces were arrayed.
There were no messages exchanged;
They’d been already said.
There was no way to stop this fight.
The plains would soon be red.
And Maelewano made a promise
On that fateful day,
That if Bilili would not leave,
Bilili she would slay.