Note: This is the last chapter most readers read. Chapter 7 is rarely read, which I feel is a pity, there is some good stuff in there. Something in this chapter turns off most readers. I am honestly not sure what it is that does that. It's my portayal of Aslan no doubt, that much has been clear from the hour I released it, but what precisely? If you are one of those who read this then decide not to read any more then PM me and tell me why. I really want to know. I can't promise I'll be able to do anything about it, but I will carefully consider any serious suggestions. Chris, July 2013.

6. The Great Lion

There was a sudden shout, and the group surged into a confused canter. To Nengwe's near side he was sure he saw Falana rise from cover. If there was one lesson he'd learnt about hunting was you always support your party. If someone broke, they always broke for a reason, even if that reason was not obvious to you. If you saw someone rise, you rose too, even if, like Nengwe, you saw it late. Leaping the stream as a simple part of his stride he tore up the far bank towards the centaurs. He could also see a large golden shape bearing down on them from high up the valley side: it was heading for the leader. The undergrowth was light; he could see the earth beneath the few fallen leaves. He gained traction easily without using his claws, his pads giving him all the grip he needed.

He and Falana were still five lengths off when the shape struck. Nengwe grimaced as the lion leapt at the leader. Even he knew that to strike moving prey you aimed for the forequarters to hit the hind. The great golden lion filled the gap between the rump of the leader and the following centaur. Kicked hard in mid-flight by the leader, the next crashed into him, crushing him, barely managing to keep on his hooves. The others jumped over and around him, sending him rolling heavily down the valley. The centaurs cantered on, up to the head of the valley and out of sight.

Nengwe slowed to a halt. Falana came up to him, gasping for breath.

"What was that all about?"

"Look, I'm sorry Falana."

"Not you," she snapped, "him!"

"What? That Aslan hasn't turned up has he?"

"Shuush Nengwe."

Aslan lay still, kicked and stamped on, on his side. The centaurs were well away down slope by the time he stirred. He lifted his head a little and through pained eyes looked toward Falana and Nengwe.

"Who taught you that one eh? Not your mother I'll bet!"

He shook his head weakly. His mane at the shoulder, high up at the blade, was dulling red. Falana padded over to him and sniffed at the wound.

"Stay still," she commanded as she bent down and nuzzled into the lion's mane. Dropping down on to the ground, she began to clean away the blood. He drew back sharply, gasping, closing his eyes and stifling an open jawed growl, as she rasped her tongue into the deep gash. "What… did you… do that… for?" She asked between rasps. "Are you Aslan?"

"Yes."

"You're no use to any of us dead, least of all yourself."

"I'm not important. You are."

"Aslan, I'm no one."

"You're a mother."

"Not quite yet." She turned her head back. "Nengwe? Get over here and keep him quiet. At least stop him turning his head all the time."

Shortly Nengwe settled full length beside Aslan, and slipped down to the ground, pressing his side to the great lion's. "Best do what she asks… especially when she's got her jaws over your scruff. I've seen buffalo die that way."

Aslan screwed his eye up tight and held his breath.

Nengwe tried to distract him, "She's got a point though. What did you hope to do by thundering in like that?"

"No one."

"Eh?"

"No one taught me that. Not my mother."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never learned to hunt."

"Never learned to hunt? That and you let me take you down. What kind of a lion are you?"

Drawing in another sharp breath, Aslan admitted, "Not the sort I thought I was."

Falana drew back, her work done. The bleeding was mostly staunched, the flap of skin and the mane hair over it clean and moist. "There, you'll live."

"Falana, you do me a great honour."

"Eh? I did you nothing." She tried to get up, but stopped half-way up, sharply exhaling with suddenly tight closed eyes. She turned her head half-away from the two males.

"Falana! What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Don't worry Nengwe." She paused, catching her breath. "I… we are alright, and yes, it's definitely we now."

"You mean, that was my daughter?"

"Or your son."

"Or," added Aslan quietly, "both."

Nengwe rose, turned his head over Aslan's, and with a flash of his eyes said, "Falana, could it be? Our cubs?"

She passed it off with a flick of her head. "Who knows? Maybe. We'll see."

"It will be Falana."

"How can you know Aslan?"

"I know." The great lion added softly, "What I do not know is what it's like to be a father."

Nengwe dropped his chin gently on to Aslan's mane. "Nor do I…. Yet. I hope I'll be a good one."

"Your cubs will have everything they need with you."

"Come on Aslan, how can you possibly know? For all I know I am carrying just one cub and we could lose it within weeks."

"This will be." Aslan drew forwards, slowly sliding his back under Nengwe. "I create worlds, and bring life into them, yet I cannot know what it feels like to create life and bear it within you as you are now Falana."

"Creating it's one thing, carrying it is quite another. It's nothing great. Three months of wallowing about looking like a warthog. Feeling sick half the time yet still having to hunt all hours. Oh yeah, really great and nurturing that is I can tell you."

Aslan paused. "I had a mother. Not like yours, but I had one. She was so young: a child really. Lost, so, so vulnerable, afraid and alone. She hardly knew what was happening yet she accepted it without question. I could not stay with her, I had to leave her. Yet despite it all, she never stopped loving me."

"I'm sorry."

"What about your father?"

"My father?" Aslan shook his head. "My father is… not like yours."

"That's not a bad thing Aslan. You'd not have liked my father."

Aslan smiled. Nodding and shaking his head in mild amusement. "That may be so Nengwalamwe. That may be so. My father is… well, he is not a lion."

Nengwe pressed the point, pushing his head forwards to Aslan's. "Not a lion? How can that be? You say you can create whole worlds, but yet you say you are just a lion. A lion, that is, that cannot hunt. No lion that I ever heard of can make worlds, so what are you?"

"My father is of spirit alone. He cannot walk these worlds. He made me from himself. I am his son, the embodiment of his being. Yet I am not him. I live in these worlds, real, solid worlds just as you do. He cannot. He can never live amongst us. That is why he made me."

Nengwe looked to Falana. She widened her eyes and lifted her shoulders. Her tail lay still.

"I don't understand Aslan. You look like a lion, you feel like a lion, you bleed like one. You smell like one; but a lion without a father, or a very odd one at that. Are you a lion or aren't you?"

"Yes... and no."

Falana swished her tail and eased up her ears. "Every lion should be able to hunt… and not get themselves killed for it. There are better things to die for than food."

"I have no need to hunt."

"Then unless you can send us home, let us get on and live our lives without your precious "help". You nearly got yourself killed, and us with you like as not."

Aslan inhaled sharply, almost a gasp, then he let it go gently and dropping his head replied, "I saved you. Take care to not take nobility too far. You must not hunt centaurs. They are a proud, honourable… and stubborn race and slow to forget. That was showing off taken too far. If you had caught them, and they have never been hunted, they would have hunted you two and cut you both down. I tell you this: I can't send you home. I do not know how long your stay here will be, but I know it must not have ended there. I didn't bring you here, my father did. Only he can send you back but you must first survive to be sent. I am his servant and bound by the deeper magic from before the dawn of time. I am here not to rule but to serve."

"Then take us to him."

"I cannot take you to my father."

Nengwe gazed on Aslan wryly as Falana shook her head. "Then if you want to be of any help to us you had better learn to hunt and fast."

Looking up at Falana with his eyes, Aslan said softly, "You, Falana, can teach me."

"Can you strike from cover?" Aslan said nothing. "Can you even pounce?"

"I can learn."

"Tomorrow. We'll start tomorrow. I'm going back to the cave." With that she turned and walked off., her tail swishing.

Nengwe whispered to Aslan, "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Beautiful, yes, and terrifying. You and she…?"

Nengwe nodded, "Uh-huh. And those centaurs started it."

"I stopped it."

"She'll start with cub stuff, you do know that?"

"Yes Nengwalamwe. You had better go catch her up. I have things to do: centaurs to talk to."