to increase her profit.

 

***

 

“Come, come to me again my lion, come to me.”

“NO!” Nengwalamwe shook his head in frustration and confusion, his head said run, his loins, equally primed for action, said otherwise. For the first time in his recent life his head was to rule. He jumped up and sprang away only to stop a few paces in front of Llasani. She just looked at him with wide-open eyes and an upturned tail. She held her ears forward toward him. Nengwalamwe panicked. “No! This isn’t right, what am I going to do? Just what am I going to tell my father? How… how can I stay alive?”

“Stop worrying, I’ll not tell him anything if you won’t. Just come here...” she edged forwards half a pace to make sure her scent reached his broad nostrils, “...and do what you do so well.”

“What do you mean, you won’t tell him? Won’t he notice?”

She edged forward again and waved her tail slowly in the soft breeze. Nengwalamwe drew the scent into his nostrils with deep breaths, pulling his upper lip back tightly over his teeth to open his nose fully to the intoxicating air.

“Notice what? My scent doesn’t do to him what it does to his son, does it Nengwe?”

“He will - he’ll notice it all right and what about the cubs? He’ll notice those!”

“Cubs?” Llasani stared silently at Nengwalamwe for a moment, and then she burst out laughing. “Cubs? What’s with you? Are you crazy? What? You don’t think… You think I’m going to have your cubs? Oh come on. You can’t think I’m going to conceive a litter fathered by another lion right under your father’s nose? What is it with you? You think a couple of rolls in the grass and that’s it, a lioness is up with cubs? You’d have to keep this up for days, which I doubt you’re up to, and even then I’m not at all sure I would want to have YOUR cubs.” She laughed on loudly.

He could take it no longer. He at least thought she might want him as a father, but now it seemed she just wanted him for…. He rushed away into the light of what he felt must be his last day, leaving Llasani laughing alone in the thicket. He wanted to run headlong between the trees. Perhaps he would run into one and end his pain there and then.

Before he had gone more than ten lengths he ran straight into the back of another lioness - a heavily pregnant lioness: Llasani’s sister. She was running too, but not towards them, she too was running away. She must have seen them, possibly seen it all. What had these two been up to? Had she… watched them? Did she hold his life in her paws? He scrambled to a halt and turned to face her. She picked herself up from the dust. The heat was beginning to build. Not all the heat came from the sun. He breathed deeply and held his head low, pinning his eyes to hers while behind Llasani strode, still laughing, into view behind her sister. He wondered if he could kill them both, but quickly dismissed the thought when he considered Llasani’s sisters much expected cubs.

“Well, so you’ve found out our little secret,” Llasani said as she stifled the last laugh. “So what are you going to do now, great, late son of Nengwala? Are you going to tell daddy? Hmmm?" She paused, not really expecting a reply. Her sister spoke next, making it clear how much she had seen.

“Didn’t take him long did it? Well Llasani, was he worth the effort?”

“Oh, it wasn’t bad I suppose - nothing to roar about. His father was much better; he really knows how to please a lioness.”

Nengwalamwe watched in total horror. Two lionesses had set him up just for a bit of fun. Llasani had led him on just so that she could add him to her tally. Now he knew they wouldn’t tell anyone - except all the other lionesses.

He blurted out his thoughts in a confused rush, “You’re no better than slobbering wild dogs. I knew I couldn’t trust you.” He started to turn away but Llasani called him back.

“Where do you think you’re going, my lion?” The sisters laughed again. “What are you going to do to make sure we don’t tell your daddy that you overpowered me and took me by force?” He stopped instantly and turned back in disbelief. Indeed what could he do? They held him in their paws. He couldn’t kill the sisters nor could he ignore them. He could do nothing but what they wanted. If he was even to have a hope of avoiding being torn apart by his own father it lay in Llasani’s paws. He was Llasani’s slave and it now became clear that’s just what she had wanted.

He turned away again and in despair flopped down on the dust. The light from the early sun reflected off the grains of dust that billowed up around him. They seemed so tiny, so insignificant, so helplessly carried by the lightest of air currents. He felt smaller than the smallest speck of that dust. His captor continued tightening her grip. “Good, that’s better. Now first you’ll have to finish off what we started back there. I think I might just let you go this evening. But you had better make it good or else I’ll find something else for you to do. Do you hear?”

Nengwalamwe heard and nodded weakly in response. So began the longest day of his life.…

7.Leaving the Pride

 

Llasani failed to keep her word. The long day drew on into a long night and on through to the late afternoon of the following day. Nengwalamwe repeatedly tried to slip away but each time Llasani called him back. It was his fear of his father rather than her sensuously furred body that kept him beside her for all that time.

For a while soon after sunset he felt drained and tired. He then decided that as he had no choice he might as well make the most of it and he began to set about his task with new relish and vigour. If this was what the lioness wanted then that was what she was going to get.

His mind turned to wondering why she had bothered to do all this. What did she really want from him? If she was after his cubs, and she was adamant that she was not, then there were much simpler ways to have gone about it. Was she trying to get at his father by turning him against his own son? Why - because he had rejected her? That seemed unlikely. So, what was it that drove Llasani? And her sister; what was that all about? It wasn’t even as if Llasani was enjoying Nengwalamwe’s efforts much, she grew increasingly impassive. Eventually he decided she must have wanted him to take the initiative all along. His father told him: “Take charge, you’re the lion: always lead, never follow.” So what she had really wanted all along was for him to get on with it and take her like a real lion should.

As hour after hour went by Nengwalamwe’s rough and forceful attentions began to become tedious and increasingly uncomfortable for Llasani; not that he much cared.

He rose stiffly from her and instead of rolling over she got up from the bared earth and walked forwards, carrying on away from him without looking back. She had gone some five or six lengths before he called to her:

“Hey, Llasani! Come back here. I haven’t finished yet!”

She stopped and looked back at him blankly before turning and walking away again.

“You had enough already? I’m just getting into it,” he growled after her.

She walked on in silence, but he went on, “What’s wrong with you? You’ve never had a lion as good as me have you?”

Llasani stopped abruptly and slowly turned back to face Nengwalamwe with a fixed and deadly expression.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that! Yes, I’ve never had a lion like you. When I’m through with you you’ll never have any lioness again,” her voice grew colder. “You won’t even breathe again.”

“Hah! You can’t touch me Llasani! I’m a real lion, better than my father and don’t you forget it!” He felt smug, knowing that Llasani was no match for a strong male. She ran off without another word between them. He watched her run for a few seconds before setting about washing her scent from his lower fur. He felt that he had handled the situation pretty well, all things considered. He had taken on Llasani at her own game and had won.

He could now run back home. He was fast enough; he could get to his father before Llasani. He could tell him that she had made the whole thing up - or could he? The powerful scent of a lioness hung about him; as he licked he realised that it would not wash off. It would linger on his fur for a day at least. His confidence wilted and his desperation grew with each increasingly frantic lick at his hindquarters. No matter what he did the smell clung to him; it would betray him and lead him to his death. Could he deny being with Llasani? The scent was subtly different from that of the lioness who had initiated him into lionhood; it was stronger and had a fruity, smoky acidity. It was as distinctive a scent as any he could recall - it could only be Llasani’s.

His tail swished as he saw his situation stretch away like the Kolata. He knew he could not return to the kopje of rocks clenched in an almost encircling bend of the Kolata River that he called home. He was sure to meet his father if he did. Nengwalamwe did not just respect his father, he feared him and with good reason. Everyone knew where they were with Nengwala. The great Nengwala had an opinion about everything, and voiced it often. Even when he was

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