the young barely turned adult Llasani included, against the unwanted attentions of all other males. He called his brand of protection ‘vigorous persuasion’, which seemed to amount to taking a bite out of any lion that even sniffed the air coming from the pride. He had recently ‘vigorously persuaded’ an adolescent, barely older than Nengwalamwe, to leave the Upper Kolata. He had died soon after on the fringes of the Kolata’s lands. "Weakness comes from caring" has father told Nengwalamwe when he asked what had happened.

 Nengwala regarded the pride lionesses as his personal possessions. Even his younger brother, Llasani’s father, had to ask permission, very tactfully, to pass anymore than the time of day with any of the pride. It was perhaps astonishing that he had mated with Llasani’s mother at all; there was much whispered talk of a long-standing unpaid debt that he had called in from Nengwala. The whispers said that it must have been a very great debt indeed, for Nengwala paid dearly with his own pride.

The pride territory was open to the savannah on three sides and took a lot of protecting. At night the roars of the neighbouring pride males, whom Nengwala always called ‘The Enemy’, could clearly be heard uncomfortably close on the warm and full night air.

The rains were close, Nengwalamwe could almost smell the clouds gathering, folding and rolling over the mountain peaks that dominated the Kolata hills. Confused thoughts jumbled and jostled in his young lion’s mind. He had recently had his first encounter with a lioness, the type of meeting he dare not discuss with his parents. She had been from the Lower Kolata pride, which, thanks mainly to Nengwala, had only one adult male lion to look after eight lionesses. He tried valiantly to keep them happy and with cub but it seemed he spent more of his time asleep recovering from his activities than he did doing them. Not surprisingly, sometimes one or other of his lionesses had strayed far afield in search of male company. One such had encountered Nengwalamwe out alone in the tall grasses by the dry Kolata streambed and had introduced him to the pleasures of adulthood. She had shown great patience at his first awkward, sweaty and for both rather unfulfilling efforts. Though he tried desperately hard he was unable to complete until the third day. Then the power of his ardour finally overwhelmed his youthful frustration; his pent-up desire for lionesses suddenly took physical form and flowed uncontrollably out of him into her. He felt that he was now a real lion. Throughout what remained of the day he took every opportunity to prove it, even when his once willing tutor began to protest at his continued advances. Later that night, Nengwalamwe fell asleep after thirty-four hours continuously awake; when he woke with the dawn he found he was alone. He never saw the lioness again.

From then on he looked upon all lionesses with fresh eyes that looked more at their hindquarters than their faces. His mother caught the way he looked at Llasani and cuffed him across the muzzle for it. She told him that if she ever caught him drooling at his cousin again she would cuff him again, with her claws out. He had then become very careful to lust only when he was sure there was no one around to see. He imagined all sorts of situations where he might happen to be in the right position to take Llasani by surprise. Though he had always taken great care over grooming he made extra sure he was always looking his best for the lucky Llasani. He spent hours keeping every part of his fur and mane spotlessly clean.

In his dreams she instantly succumbed to his masterly advances and cried out for him and told him how wonderful he was. Yet despite all his plans, when he got close to her she would turn to him and ask, “Is there some way I can help you Nengwe?” or “Yes? Do you want me for any reason?” or “Come on Nengwe, out with it!” His dreams melted and he felt as though his mother had caught him; he could almost feel her claws rake deep through his magnificent face. He could not bear to tell Llasani what he really wanted, far less to take her in the manner of his dreams. He could only run off or worse still, bluster incoherently.

His mother clearly saw the signs that her oldest cub had become a red blooded young lion. Yet she could not know that he had had any practical experience on what he described vaguely as his recent ‘hunting trip’. She thought her ‘little leopard’ was just simply full of the joys of adolescence. His brother, Talashi, could see that Nengwalamwe spent a lot more time close to, and even following, Llasani, but he had no clear idea why. To find out he decided to keep a close eye on his older brother, from a discrete distance of course. He wanted to try and see what Nengwalamwe found so interesting now that he was beginning to tire of fighting and biting games at flame-red-flooded sunset.

The oppressive heat of the day was passing and the time for a little rough and tumble approached. Nengwe’s mane made such a great target for the younger cubs that Tashi tried to persuade Llasani to come along to lure his reluctant brother into being a pouncing partner again. However she merely laughed at Tashi and shooed him away with a twitching tail and bristling whiskers.

Nengwe tried to put his heart into the games he had once played tirelessly all day, but as soon as he realised Llasani was not going to turn up he excused himself and wandered off. He settled down to watch from a low rise a little way off downwind. Tashi shrugged and took over from his brother. Nengwe half-heartedly watched him wait silently for his brothers and cousins to appear from out of the grasses. He saw one of the youngest males creep stealthily and low towards Tashi whose ears twitched continually to ward of the flies that heralded the coming of the rains. Before the cub leapt, Nengwalamwe felt another of the flies land on his own left ear. Like his brother, he twitched it, reaching up with a paw to brush it away. He had to close his eyes as he drew the paw across his tilted head.

“Not joining in then?”

Nengwalamwe looked up suddenly and turned round to the voice. He felt a gently painful mixture of elation, stupidity and strange warmth that came from deep within and tied his tongue. The under-fur smooth voice was that of Llasani.

“Eh, I… Well, you know. I’d much rather be with you.” He lost his nerve and suddenly couldn’t bear to look her in the face and decided to feel a twinge in his left shoulder. “Oooh, too much hunting again. Oow!”

"Hmmm, it never hurts me. It must be that lions are different somehow.”

“Well, we are bigger you know,” he said softly still looking slightly away from, and self-consciously beyond his cousin.

“Ah, and getting bigger all the time.”

Now he was glad that fur covered his face as it hid the redness growing beneath. He felt hot all over and again had to fight the urge to stand.

“You’re a growing lad, but I think you could get bigger still.”

He shut his eyes and pulled his head away.

“Eh, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to join in their games?” She pushed her head closer to his. He did not fail to catch her delicate and inviting scent.

“Naa, they just play stupid cub games,” he said in an attempt to change the subject; it failed totally.

“Oh yes? And you want to play lion games I suppose? Hmmm?" Llasani brushed her cheek over his sensuously.

“I don’t,” he coughed quietly; “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do… I think you do.” She raised her head and drew forwards a pace so that she stood over him, looking down at a patch on his mane that was even darker than rest. She drew in his scent, closing her eyes in a warm half-smile. Then her smile broadened and she opened her eyes a little. “Why don’t you get up and join me? Is there some more grown-up game we could play together? Perhaps you want me to teach you one?”

He was not sure whether she was teasing him; was she just pretending not to realise how much her scent drew him on?

“I don’t think you can teach me anything Llasani - that I don’t already know that is. I’d rather just sit here if you don’t mind, I’d much rather be alone. I have important things to think about.” He lied of course but just could not face being embarrassed by Llasani. He felt things for her that he knew might get him forced out of the pride, or worse. His mother had seen to it that he knew how to hunt; his father had seen to it that he could defend himself and down by the streambed a lioness had seen to it that he could do everything else a lion needed to do. What more could a young lion need to know? His fourth year had just started and his mane was beginning to darken as it grew to cover his neck and forequarters. Llasani’s intimate scent was temptation beyond resistance and it appeared she was willing to do more than just tempt. He smiled to himself, ‘But I can teach you something Llasani. Yeah, let’s see if you know how to treat a real lion,’ he thought, ‘Time to show that I’m no longer a cub.’ He stood up suddenly, causing Llasani to turn to look elsewhere. She saw why he had been reluctant and giggled thoughtlessly.

“My, you are a little pleased to see me!”

This achieved what Nengwalamwe could not. He rushed off, as near to tears as he had been at any time since his second year. He felt ashamed at himself and anger at her who had so humiliated him. He had