now that he was most likely to become a father himself. Then there was Talashi…

“Nengwe?” Mtundu’s voice was distant. “What are you doin’ back there?”

“Oh nothing. I was just…”

“How long d’ya reckon?”

“Eh? Oh, a while or so.”

“What do you think she wants?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know whether they are alive or dead. I just don’t know.” The lion shook his head, his mane rolling and snaking.

“Nengwe? Shaha, what d’ya think she wants?”

“I don’t know. I hope I’m doing the right thing. We are doing this right aren’t we?” He peered into the distance. There by tree on a ridge, silhouetted against the early sun stood a young lioness. “Do you see her Mtundu?”

“Who?”

“I guess not… she’s not really there is she?”

“What, Yali? Yeah I see her, over by that tree.” She stood holding her head up high; looking to the great rock. “If ya wanna know if ya doin’ it right, just take a look. That’s what ya doin’ it for.”

“You do see her! See I told you. I wasn’t making her up, she’s not a dream. She’s really there.”

“Yeah Fuzzbutt, she’s really there. But hey, she’s going!”

Yali lowered her head and paced forward. She seemed hurt; she was unsteady in her walk.

“We can’t catch her Mtundu, let her go.”

Moments later she disappeared behind the crown of the ridge, making off south. In time, the pair followed in her pawfall. From where she stood, they could see along the length of the eastern ridge. The tracks along much of its length were partly obscured by fresh grass. They passed the pitted valley where Nengwe had blundered upon his first kill for Falana. A little later Falana’s knoll, empty once more, came and went. When the bedrock erupted out of the ridge, rising ragged on their offside, they slowed, moving forward cautiously as they approached the crags of Silent Rocks.

The morning was much like any other. Clouds, patchy and unladen, floated by. Birds chattered, rising in flustered flaps as they passed. Zebra pricked up their ears and turned to the lion before dropping back to graze, unconcerned. In the distance to the south a small group of elephant noisily picked off the fresh flush of young leaves from acacias. From far to the east the call of a leopard, tight and seemingly strangled to the lion’s ear, floated lazily on the air.

“Well,” the lion said, trying to sound confident as he came to the outer scattered boulders of Silent Rocks, “here we are.” He stood for a moment. There was nothing unusual about the day or the rocks. Together the lion and baboon turned toward the crag, slipping among the rocks. Shaha usually lay sunning herself deep in the formation where it opened out into some tens of lengths. To reach her they had to wind their way through tightening alleys and gullies much as Yali had said about Falana: threading their way through the lioness’s mind. It was still a strange concept to Nengwe, but one he was beginning to come to terms with and it calmed him to think on it.

“Nengwe, did I tell ya about this stick Shaha gave me?”

“What stick Mtundu? What about it?”

“Yeah its… well its sorta… I don’t know, but its uber cool. I mean its sub zero.”

“A stick?”

“Sure. She left it round the corner for me. You know, where she lays around.”

“’Lays around’? Lionesses like Shaha don’t ‘lay around’ Mtundu, they….” Nengwalamwe stopped dead. His breathing shortened instantly. His ears shot forward. His shoulders tensed and he raised the hair along his spine. He puffed out his mane. His tail began swishing from side to side.

Ahead, on the opposite side of the now much opened space, stood a group of dogs. Their heads down, ears forward, eyes fixed ahead. Mouths slightly open ready to take in lots of air. Three or more in front, more in a narrow arc behind, maybe eight or nine in all. Leading them as they came forward slowly was Elizabeth. To the rear Nengwe could just see a small dark dog, one he did not remember.

Sensing how vulnerable they were from the rear due to the narrow rockbound passage through which they had entered the space, Mtundu jabbed the lion’s side with his elbow. The lion looked around. They were surrounded on most sides by high rocks. The only entrances were that through which they had come and another which the dogs covered. Over to the nearside an old wooden stick lay discarded, was that old thing what Mtundu had been going on about? No, enough of that. Back to the business at paw: they had walked right into an ambush, and there was no sign of Shaha or Falana. He turned his head, only to see yet another dog, a burly male, licking his lips as he came up the path behind them.

Mtundu nudged the lion’s flank.

Elizabeth stopped and spoke. “About bloody time too. You just don’t get it do you lion?”

He tried to look defiant, standing tall. “Get what dog?”

“Yer not wanted ‘ere. Why didn’t you just leg it when we gave you the chance?”

Mtundu nudged him again.

“Not wanted by who?”

“I don’ want you ’ere.”

“You don’t want me here?” He noticed the baboon was no longer at his side. He spotted him sidling quietly toward the stick. He hurriedly went on, “Yes, I get that but Falana wants me here, so does Shaha.”

“Falana and Shaha?” Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. “Shaha’s copped it, and Falana’s gone. Oh yeah, sure you look all regal with that… hair an’ everything but face it: no one wants a king that flamin’ eats ‘em. You’re on your lonesome lion!”

The baboon nudged him again. He was back.

“Ah… what about Mtundu?”

“What about him? He ain’t been any help to you for ages.”

“What are you talking about? He’s my friend. You’re lying.”

She edged forward, laying her head over slightly on to her offside, looking at the lion in a curious sideways way. “Lying? About that waste of space? I’ll tell you about Mtundu. He’s a spy, an’ I don’t mean for you.”

“A spy?” He felt he needed to add a growl for extra effect. “Working for you? Telling you what?”

“Oo, only everywhere you go. Everyone you see. Everything you hear. Everything you say.  Heck, we even know where you…”

He snapped a growl at her, “I know about that.”

“Yeah, so do we. I bet you don’t know the half of it. We know about Yali.”

“You keep her out of it! How is it you know?”

“How? The baboon of course. One of those little cheeky buggers no one takes no notice of. So where is she now lion? Where is your little imaginary friend?”

“She’s not imaginary… she’s….”

“Oh come on lion. A lion cub no one’s ever heard of. No one but you ever sees ‘er. Only you ever talk to her. You work it out.”

“But she is real. She lives here.”

“Oh yeah, a lioness called Yali lived ‘ere all right. Right ‘ere, I remember, but she’s dead.”

“Dead?”

“Yeah, snuffed it right an’ proper. And what about your traitor friend? He’s turned you in again.”

“Hey bitch, I’ve not turned him in. Ya gotta believe me Nengwe.”

Nengwalamwe snatched a quiet aside to the baboon, “don’t worry Mtundu. She’s bluffing.” Raising his head along with his voice, “So Elizabeth, what is this all about?”

“Oh, were here to nick yer: to take you in. We’re going to show the animals all the bad stuff you get up to: eating them and all that, and show ‘em just how little you lions do for them.”

“Take me in?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like that cave: it’s yer prison. After a day or two in there with us, you’ll wish you’d never been born. After that, we’ll take you out to the northern borders. Break your legs, pull open your belly and leave you out in the sun to die. A few dinners out with the vultures and you’ll be just another pile o’ bones. Either that or we’ll kill you ‘ere.”

“You mean you want me to die?”

“Oh yes, you’ll die: painfully slowly. Crying, pleading with me to finish it. But you know what? I think I’ll stand there and resist that temptation. I’m gonna really enjoy watching you die.”

Nengwe whispered, “Mtundu, I want you to know it’s been good running with you.”

“Eh? ‘Been’, Whatta ya talkin’ about?”

“I can take three, maybe four, and if you were ever serious about wanting to take down a dog; now may be your only chance. This is it Mtundu: we’re going to die.”

“Not…” Mtundu started fidgeting awkwardly. “…if I can do anythin’…” He pulled the stick to him, lifing it in both hands. “…‘bout it.”

“Drop that blasted thing. You’re likely to take someone’s eye out with it.”

Mtundu smiled back. “Wicked. I’m well likin’ that! But Nengwe, stall ‘em. We need more time.”

“Time?”