the rogues. I do wonder how that lot will take being . . . ehem . . . told to do things, by Ukula.'

'Good, good,' asked Jafiya, smiling at Ukula's reputation for being more than a little overbearing. 'And Jot and Kyra? Has Ebon taken them safely into Obbler's lands?'

'Mission successful!' Kudan said. 'It's a thrill for your cubs, all this war strategy, but they've got level heads and don't let themselves get too overexcited about it all . . . Well . . . ' Kudan's smile suddenly dropped and he smiled ruefully at Jafiya, who raised an eyebrow knowingly. 'Except for that little hiccup with the marker . . .'

'Hmm,' Jafiya sighed. 'Did you manage to find out anything about Jot's so-called ''voice''?'

'Well, no. Not more than Jot's told us already.'

'Sit down, Kudan, and give me a recap,' said Jafiya, who believed you could never be told any information too many times - not when it came to war.

Kudan seated himself and began to explain.

'Right then. So . . . Jot was returning with Mahiri after rallying the rogues. They stopped near Obbler's eastern border to rest for the night. Before he fell asleep, Jot thought he heard a lion approaching. He said he heard your voice . . . '

'Hold it there,' Jafiya requested. 'My voice? Did he say it sounded exactly like me?'

'We-e-ll,' Kudan said, raising his paw and tilting it back and forth as if to say ''so-so''' . 'The voice knew Jot's name and Mahiri's - and it even mentioned Ave and Rin.  It told Jot to go at once and show Obbler that ''Jafiya and Jet were back to fight'' by putting your old scratch marks on a tree next to one of Obbler's own territory markers. This was supposed to be some kind of challenge.'

'And so Jot did,' Jafiya said, ruefully.

Kudan shrugged in bewilderment. 'Jot says he never actually saw the lion that spoke to him - but whether because he was tired or too eager, he was convinced it was you. He's ashamed, to say the least, to have been led astray like that. Who it was that he heard, I have no idea, but I have a suspicion there's somebody messing with our plans. That tree marker really gave us away . . . '

'Yes,' said Jafiya, frowning. 'I have no clue what to make of it - but I'm not really that bothered, as it happens. From what Ave and Rin have told us, Obbler is ready for us but he expects us to come at him as a small force - he hasn't figured out that we have rogues at our back (thanks to Mahiri) and I'm determined to keep that fact secret at least. What poor young Jot did hasn't given everything away, although the element of surprise would have been useful. ' Jafiya smiled and rose to his feet. 'Ah. The lad deserves another chance. Maybe he really was just worn out after travelling that night. Or maybe Mahiri wasn't the right lion for him to be around - perhaps the old rogue had something to do with ''Jot's voices''.  But nevermind, now Ebon's taking care of both him and his sister, I'm sure things will go well.'

'Yes. I'll keep an ear to the ground and my eyes open,' Kudan promised. 'The voices could be something - I have a sneaking supicion there may be a party trying to foil our plans for some reason or other. If so we've got to find out soon.'

Jafiya nodded, happy with the decision. 'You know . . .  Jot's devastated about what happened,' he added. 'So much so that he keeps telling me that, each time I meet him. He takes things pretty hard on himself as it is, the poor lad, especially since what happened to little Ta ...' Here the king stopped, quarterway though a name; he shook his head sadly, not wanting to continue. 'Anyway, at least he's the sort to take everything humbly, and not denying things as his fault. That's a sign of a good leader, and I'm proud of him. However, make sure he doesn't blame everything on himself, Kudan - it's not healthy in the least.' 

'Noted.'

'Excellent. You return to camp, Kudan. Have a rest. I plan to wait for Ebon's return, when he's back from positioning Jot and Kyra. If there's anything you need to tell me, just send Kaliia.'

'Thank you, sir! Shall I send your regards to Jet?'

Jafiya gave a laugh. 'Please! Tell her that I, as her devoted King, demand she does nothing strenuous in the least! Our cub is due soon!' His voice softened and he looked at the ground. 'A new child. I'm overjoyed and terrified at the same time - I hope all this warring will be over before the birth . . . Tell Jet I love her, Kudan.'

As Kudan left, Jafiya stared south across the desert towards a distant dark streak on the horizon. Obbler's lands, just within reach.

CHAPTER III

'' . . . So Obbler and his army,
Slashed,
Ripped through the night,
Cutting like fangs,
Fangs through black hide,
Closing to bite . . . ''

The voice of Bamoma Gabon rang through the stillness of the evening. A dozen-odd Stone fighters gathered around their bard, who had been accepted into the pride only a few months ago. Some of the audience listened intently, savouring the poetry, some lay half-dozing with heads to paws; lulled by the words they tried to get some sleep in preparation for lookout shifts later on, taking over from the lions who stood not far off, hidden in the surrounding darkness.

Princess Romy sat a little way from the throng, ears turned to Bamoma, who was a distant cousin of her family, as he recited a poetic recollection of that long-ago battle when Obbler had vanquished Jafiya and Jet - the foe who was actually - ironically - undefeated. Romy's eyes roved over the tired lions that had been brought out to guard the Northern border, which edged the desert. This was the same desert that their enemy had disappeared into. The desert they had survived. Obbler had ordered that this part of the territory be especially well guarded. Romy was now going through the stationed lookout posts - she had set out immediately after returning from her mission to talk to the Whitebacks, as well as to escort Bamoma and his mate who were lifting troops' morale with some entertainment. Tamura had also tagged along; she was now sitting among the audience, having become a big fan of the ex-nomadic couple and their skill.

Romy, sitting that evening with Bamoma's words drifting on the air, smiled, depsite feeling the most tired she had ever felt after so much travelling. The Whitebacks had, thankfully, agreed to help fight against both the rogues and Jafiya's forces. What was more, Kari had promised to try persuade her King and King to lend some aid. The Stone Lions felt secure. With their allies' help and numbers, they stood a very good chance against their enemies. Things were looking up.

Romy's ears perked up. Bamoma had drifted off and the voice of Rileigh took up the verse; the pale lioness sat by him, her voice, normally confident (on the rare occassions that she spoke) had a nervous quiver to it  . . .

'. . . Waiting were Jafiya's forces, arch-enemy of the Stones,
Those savage thorns in Stones' side!
But a stone can withstand all; 
feeblest prickle to mightiest tide . . . '

There was a murmur of appreciation as Rileigh ended the verse, some bravery in her final words. Romy saw Bamoma whisper smilingly in his mate's ear, before he took over again.

Romy beamed as Tamura suddenly wriggled from the gathering and approached her, followed by the blushing Rileigh.
 

'That was ace!' whispered Tamura. 'Wasn't it, Mama?'

Rileigh laughed shyly. 'I was pretty nervous.'

'You did well!' said Romy, giving the pale lioness an encouraging nod. 'Bamoma giving you more and more experience, I see.'

'Yes! I love practicing with him and I can remember all the words pretty well but - oh, it's pretty nerveracking performing infront of other lions. Might have something to do with me being a loner for so long before meeting Bamoma - I wish I could speak as confidentally as you do, Romy; you have a way with words.'

'I've had years of being an ambassador to practice that,' laughed Romy. 'I have to say, Tamura really admires you and Bamoma. I often hear her trying to practice rhyming words - isn't that so, Tam?' Romy nudged her daughter with a paw. 'Go on, tell Ril!'

Tamura, not a show off, in her quiet voice obliged Romy and Rileigh with a very short verse she had composed herself: 

'We know not the travels of the birds,
Or where the fish do go,
Not even what flight the tree leaves take,
It's not for us to know . . . 
We know not - the - um -'

Here Tamura stopped, giggling softly. 'That's as far I got.'

Rileigh stared. 'She's a natural,' the pale lioness said to Romy, with a little envy at the ease Tamura spoke the words. 'It must run in the family.'

'No, it doesn't!' said Tamura, reassuringly. 'I'm adopted, so I guess it's just practice!' The young lioness seemed very shy after her little performance. 'I - I'm going to keep listening to Bamoma!' With that, she pattered off.

'Oh, Tam's adopted?' Rileigh said, blinking.

Romy laughed. 'Yes, she is. Like you, alot of lions are suprised when they find out.'

'I should think so - she looks alot like her family. Like you, that is. And Comoros, so