changed in times of drought – mountain creeks and lakes became a desirable price for many, including aggressive groups of rogues. One of such groups – sometime called gerges – approached to High Range two weeks earlier. They came and attacked without warning, breaking every rule and law of hospitality in Circle of Life. Perhaps that was why they failed – seven rogues were stopped and forced to retreat and three of them had been killed – one of skeletons Goldlanders had already seen.

But price of that stand was terrible - three lioness were dead, three other severely wounded and queen herself and young price were killed by leader of rogues, who charged in suicide attack, seeing that his attempt of killing king failed. King survived, but his wounds were infected, still keeping him at the edge of life and death. That was what Bonde managed to tell newcomers, before they got to High Cave.

Keep of pride was a den in slope of range, just above the forest of widdringtonia trees. Just a small part of cavern system was used for living, while long and unexplored corridors seemed to go miles ahead. Lions lair had its exit directed on small clearing of mountain grasses and bushes on quite wide ledge of slope. But in spite of that width, slope looked as a graveyard.

Five bodies were buried just next to slope, under piles of boulders. But hen, on centre of clearing were lying threeity as a king…”

“Your pride is not here.” Noticed wanderer. “You even endanger Golden Sands, by risking your life… life of heir.”

“If something happens to me, Zira will take over the Golden Sands and her future mate will be king.”

“She is here too.” Said Dhalimu with calm, but inquiring voice. “You endanger her as well.”

“She won’t be fighting.” Replied Sparthi.

“He is wrong.” Countered Zira.

“That questions are pointless.” Called prince with decisive voice. “I decided to help this pride in range we are able to and this conversation is over. I want that, period.”

“Good.” Smiled Dhalimu. “I was checking decisiveness of future king and that test you passed easily. But…” he looked on Zira and smiled even wider. Princess – maybe for the very first time – felt a fondness towards her in that smile. “…your sister passed the reason test. First of all, she asked how many enemies we could be confronted with.”

“And what is the strength of pride.” Added Zira automatically.

“Yes. And what is the strength of pride.” Repeated Dhalimu. “Bonde, led us to your keep and try to tell us – in short – what we should know.”

*

It wasn’t a long story. High Pride was once proud and strong pride of twelve lionesses, king Kilele, his son Theluji and queen Poromoko. The land was peaceful one, not disturbed by any outer threats, because mountain region was considered as rather poor and unfertile. But it all changed in times of drought – mountain creeks and lakes became a desirable price for many, including aggressive groups of rogues. One of such groups – sometime called gerges – approached to High Range two weeks earlier. They came and attacked without warning, breaking every rule and law of hospitality in Circle of Life. Perhaps that was why they failed – seven rogues were stopped and forced to retreat and three of them had been killed – one of skeletons Goldlanders had already seen.

But price of that stand was terrible - three lioness were dead, three other severely wounded and queen herself and young price were killed by leader of rogues, who charged in suicide attack, seeing that his attempt of killing king failed. King survived, but his wounds were infected, still keeping him at the edge of life and death. That was what Bonde managed to tell newcomers, before they got to High Cave.

Keep of pride was a den in slope of range, just above the forest of widdringtonia trees. Just a small part of cavern system was used for living, while long and unexplored corridors seemed to go miles ahead. Lions lair had its exit directed more lionesses, wounded and covered with scabs, just as if they were waiting for their turn to be buried. But they were still alive and when Goldlanders entered pride’s keep, they reacted with fear and despise on their faces. Dhalimu and Sparthi were mistaken as rogues claiming their easy prey – but just initially. Perhaps that was something in appearance of prince, but hostile stares quickly turned to silent begs for help. Sandymaned was seen as a helper, not a threat.

“Uncle… could you help them?” asked prince, looking on wounded lionesses. Dhalimu, apart of being considered as experienced wanderer, was known about his medicine knowledge.

“I guess they were provided with best care that lions could give… but of course I’ll take a look.” Replied whitefutted.

“Sir…” asked one of wounded, extending her paw in Sparthi’s direction. She had terrible wound on muzzle, most likely damaged eye. “Will you defend us?”

“I can’t give you a promise I’m not sure if I could fulfil.” Replied sandymaned. “But for sure we will stay here for a while with any help we could give.”

“Good…” murmured Dhalimu, looking on nephew, talking with lionesses – those wounded and healthy, but frightened ones. He and Zira stayed next to unconscious female of light-brown fur. Wanderer was looking her wound, searching for any infected area. Only Zira heard his quiet voice. “It’s great that Sparthi is learning how to talk as a king with subjects… Not his subject yet… but it’s even better for practise.”

“And I won’t learn anything, uncle?” asked Zira.

“Not about that in particular.” Replied white lion. “But maybe something about medicine. Find some wide leaves… clear one, to use as bondage, after I remove the scab.”

Meanwhile Sparthi entered the cave to see king Kilele in person. Lion was lying on brushy bedding, unconscious and breathing hard. On his chest one could see deeps wounds, one most likely severe enough to damage the lung. From mouth of monarch dripped drops of saliva.

“Stars…” gasped Sparthi. “How long it lasts?”

“It happened ten days ago.” Said Bonde. “He wakes up, one… maybe twice a day. We feed him and water him. But he still has fever…”

“My uncle should be able to help him.” Said prince. He noticed that in chest of ruler was some shape, in centre of oedema. That could be rock shard, piece of wood, even maybe broken claw. Removing it should fix general state of patient… But if operation was done with unskilled paw it could have killed Kilele.

“So, my uncle will watch over him. But now… gather all lionesses.” Ordered Sparthi, who already considered himself as obliged and to take care about pride. “I want hear all details about possible threats from everybody. Then you will show me vicinity…”

*

Evening of that day and whole next day (at night guests slept hard – they were so tired with way on desert that Dhalimu make his companions to rest) they spent on preparations. They heard about current situation. Although that old gerge was prevailed and driven away (for that great cost), few lionesses noticed another group of rogues, scouting the area. One of fematheir easy prey – but just initially. Perhaps that was something in appearance of prince, but hostile stares quickly turned to silent begs for help. Sandymaned was seen as a helper, not a threat.

“Uncle… could you help them?” asked prince, looking on wounded lionesses. Dhalimu, apart of being considered as experienced wanderer, was known about his medicine knowledge.

“I guess they were provided with best care that lions could give… but of course I’ll take a look.” Replied whitefutted.

“Sir…” asked one of wounded, extending her paw in Sparthi’s direction. She had terrible wound on muzzle, most likely damaged eye. “Will you defend us?”

“I can’t give you a promise I’m not sure if I could fulfil.” Replied sandymaned. “But for sure we will stay here for a while with any help we could give.”

“Good…” murmured Dhalimu, looking on nephew, talking with lionesses – those wounded and healthy, but frightened ones. He and Zira stayed next to unconscious female of light-brown fur. Wanderer was looking her wound, searching for any infected area. Only Zira heard his quiet voice. “It’s great that Sparthi is learning how to talk as a king with subjects… Not his subject yet… but it’s even better for practise.”

“And I won’t learn anything, uncle?” asked Zira.

“Not about that in particular.” Replied white lion. “But maybe something about medicine. Find some wide leaves… clear one, to use as bondage, after I remove the scab.”

Meanwhile Sparthi entered the cave to see king Kilele in person. Lion was lying on brushy bedding, unconscious and breathing hard. On his chest one could see deeps wounds, one most likely severe enough to damage the lung. From mouth of monarch dripped drops of saliva.

“Stars…” gasped Sparthi. “How long it lasts?”

“It happened ten days ago.” Said Bonde. “He wakes up, one… maybe twice a day. We feed him and water him. But he still has fever…”

“My uncle should be able to help him.” Said prince. He noticed that in chest of ruler was some shape, in centre of oedema. That could be rock shard, piece of wood, even maybe broken claw. Removing it should fix general state of patient… But if operation was done with unskilled paw it could have killed Kilele.

“So, my uncle will watch over him. But now… gather all lionesses.” Ordered Sparthi, who already considered himself as obliged and to take care about pride. “I want hear all details about possible threats from everybody. Then you will show me vicinity…”

*

Evening of that day and whole next day (at night guests slept hard – les, called Mdoea even eavesdropped talk of two wanderers, who talked about soon invasion, killing wounded king and taking pride over. That meant two awful things – rogues were serious and they had some solid data about Highlanders. Perhaps they had met remnants of that previous gerge.

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