time.”

“Time?” Elizabeth pressed forward. Nengwe raised his shoulders and poked Mtundu’s head with his nose. “We haven’t got any time.”

“Just do it man. Make some. Buy us time damn it.”

Time, how am I going to make more time… Elizabeth called her dogs to order, never taking her eyes off the lion, now less than ten lengths ahead. “Watch your starts everyone. George second, just remember to lead first this time.”

Time…

“third and four-five near-, six-seven off-side.  ‘Arry … You’re covering again still, right?”

A string of dog’s hoos clattered off the rock walls from behind the lion and baboon. Ahead the dogs formed up, yelping anxiously behind Elizabeth. Nengwe looked frantically to each side as if he had spotted something. “Wait!”

Five of the dogs slipped out of line behind Elizabeth and turned away to the rear.

“Miss… Elizabeth. Ma’am.”

“What the heck is it now…” She spoke coldly. “…Furball?”

“Can’t we work this out? Isn’t there some way we can settle this maturely… like grown animals?”

“You, a grown animal? Yeah right! Anyway if this other way of yours doesn’t involve you dying then no, we can’t.”

“What? Surely we can end this without yet more bloodshed.”

“The only blood that will be shed is yours lion! Just give it up, you can’t run away this time.”

“I’m not going to run, and you’ll not take me alive.”

“Dead will do. Takes some of the fun out of it maybe, but dead’ll do.”

Suddenly a voice came from behind the lead dogs. A wavering, tired voice. “Elizabeth, now let me talk to him. It’s what we came here for.” The dogs behind quieted and parted.

“Lion, let me introduce you to my mother, Victoria.” Elizabeth pulled to one side, letting her elderly mother come forward. She had once been black, but now as largely silver with age. Her ears and lower legs were clean and bright white. She had clearly never been tall; age had done little to change that.

The lion gazed upon her incredulously. “Queen Victoria? I thought she was the imaginary one!”

“No Nengwalamwe,” the dark bitch imparted. “Let me assure you we are quite real.”

“Ma’am, surely you can see there is no need for all this.”

“Ah young Nengwalamwe, it’s good to actually meet you after all this time. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“All of it good I hope.”

She stopped close to her daughter, who lay at her paws. “Unfortunately no. We’ve heard all about your comings and goings. We are much amused by your runnings away.”

“I’m not running away this time. I’m staying right here. You’ll have to take me by force.”

“That is indeed most unfortunate. However if it has to be then so be it.”

“No Ma’am, it doesn’t have to be this way. There is a better way. You, of all… people, must see that this is madness. You, the queen, can stop it. All you have to do is say and it stops.”

She seemed to consider his words for a moment. Could it be that after all that had happened the madness was about to stop?

“And what then Nengwalamwe? Would you be king? Where would we be then, and my family? What then?” Nengwe made no reply. “No, no it cannot happen. There are traditions to uphold, protocols to follow, agreements and alliances to honour. We can’t just let you stay here and raise a family. Unfortunately there’s nothing more we can do for you at this time.”

Time…

“But your daughter! She’s doing all this in your name! She terrorises all the animals. She kills, tortures and she enjoys it!”

The queen once more stood to take in the full force of Nengwalamwe’s words.

“Our daughter…  ah yes, she does some errr, unsavoury things. That’s true,” her eyes darkened and she dropped her head down as if on the hunt. “…But let us tell you this Nengwalamwe: If we were her age we’d do everything she’s done and, as your uncultured baboon friend would say ‘and then some’.” Seeing nothing from the lion, she eased her head up, turning her ears back. “Now then, if you’ll excuse us. It’s been a pleasure to talk to you at last. We can’t be everywhere. Indeed these last few months we’ve found it hard to be anywhere for much of the time.”

Victoria withdrew stiffly to the rear and evidently in considerable pain. Before she was gone, Elizabeth got up and after a quick scan to see where all her dogs were she got back to her deadly business. “Right everyone, look to. Lead’s going.” She started moving forwards slowly, advancing toward the lion once more. “She’s…gone!”

Elizabeth’s plan had been to take Nengwe alive. She, and her other dogs, knew they could take down a fully grown male lion. They had done it before, but they had more dogs and had used very different tactics. The dogs were used to tiring out prey that ran from them and then, when they faltered, smothering them while dragging their legs from under them. Taking large prey relied upon getting a critical mass of dog on to the prey in the shortest time possible.

Prey always ran when they saw the lead dogs coming. So often in their panic they forgot about the dogs to each side. They usually stumbled, exhausted, on to the cover who was often the first to strike. Prey didn’t stand its ground, and it never reared up and fell upon the lead dogs as Nengwe was about to do.

Elizabeth and the second lead moved forward to her side, both expecting George to stay behind them in support and to add weight after the strike. Instead he slipped off to one side and up on to one of the boulders, knowing that getting on top of the lion was the only way to bring him down. They were not going to tire him out. He was not going to run. Unlike Elizabeth George had a grudging respect for the lion, he was no ordinary prey, and he wasn’t going to play by the rules. They were going to have to take him where he stood. It all depended where the other dogs were. If they were close the lion was dead.

“Watch my back Mutt.”

Mtundu turned away from the dogs and pressed himself hard to the lion’s hindquarters. He felt the lion breathe; taking in what might be his last breaths. He used them to snarl and growl, nothing loud, no great roar, no shows of power, only a sudden and explosive use of it: he reared up and sprang down onto the two lead dogs, all his claws fully exposed. The dogs saw him and shrank back, one jumping out of the way, the other rolling over on to the ground so that the lion crashed down between them. The dog on her back leapt up at his foreleg, managing to get her teeth high into his shoulder. She bit deep, scrabbling her hindquarters out of the way of the lion’s teeth. The other dog moved back, fatally failing to support her.

Above George sprang from the top of the boulder on to the lion’s back. He bravely managed to get his claws and teeth into the thin flesh over the lion’s spine, but couldn’t gain any hold as the lion writhed under him. Had the other dogs joined the fight at that point they might have succeeded in their plan. Instead the lion caught on to the bitch’s flank with some of his teeth and pulled violently up, tearing her teeth through his muscles. It was beyond pain, it was all life and death in one terrible moment. Swinging the bitch and shreds of his own flesh over his head, the bitch’s hind legs knocked George hard, sending him flying off the lion.

Mtundu saw the cover leaping at him. He tugged at the end of the stick, it flew up from the ground behind him, hit something with a shuddering crack and over his head, landing inelegantly on the ground before him. The cover stopped, keeping his distance. In the confines of the rock he had no way to close on the baboon and yet keep out of the way of that wooden thing, which had just smashed George’s neck.

Still one dog held back. She cowered as the lion threw her companion, still barely alive, at her paws. She could see ‘Arry at bay behind and George, or what remained of him on the ground to the side. Where were the side pairs? Why hadn’t they attacked? The lion bleed profusely from his shoulder and less so from a number of places on his back. The baboon, terrified to be sure, stood undefeated. Where were the others?

Then she saw them, two on a rock to the side. Their mouths were bloodied; one had a wound to her throat.

Neither lion nor baboon saw them coming. It was a dangerous move, taking advantage of the lion’s uninjured flank. The dogs came almost from behind. One thought himself lucky for a moment to knock the baboon over on to his side. The cover boldly took the opportunity presented and came in to the lion’s now exposed hindquarter. The three dogs now pressed home their strike, forcing the lion to roll on to his side. They ripped at his flank and underfur, but all they had done was to free his rib-crashing hind legs. He cried out in pain, but even now the cowering bitch held firm.

Mtundu, all the breath knocked from him, struggled to his feet, and grabbing the stick, lifted it and smashed into the melee of dog and lion. With claw, tooth and stick the lion somehow managed to rip himself up, and turning round, roared at the three dogs before sweeping into them with his forepaws. He set about them, ripping with