The Huntress at Sunset

18. Silent Rocks

As with so many journeys, once over, and returned to home, sleep is often the first need to be fulfilled. The great rock offered many places to lie, sleep and wait the day out amongst its caves, overhangs, and the tree canopied platforms of the southern ridge. The best of all these was the one place where Nengwe could not go, the blocked promontory cave.

What looks good to a lion is not necessary so for a baboon, each looks for something different. Nengwe worried about being able to see all round should he wake, or worse, be woken and need to escape. Mtundu wanted somewhere high and inaccessible where he could feel secure and hidden. Each though could be the eyes of the other, Nengwe's tuned to distant movement between earth and sky; Mtundu's on subtle patterns of light, shade and colour above and below.

After little debate, and a few resigned huffs from Nengwe, they choose the larger cave that opened to both sides of the great rock. There, in a large, deeply shaded alcove they could see to the western boulder strewn plain that lead down to the river, and off to the south, the dog's distant den. If they were to come, it might well be from there. The other entrance narrowed and sloped down from the east. With luck, if anything came from there, and they woke in time as it approached they might be able to take it down as it descended the narrow path into the cave.

The lion found it hard to sleep. He was worried that the dogs were coming for him. On the odd moments when darkness spread her wings about him and he dropped into soothing sleep they crowded into his fragmented, fevered dreaming.

A little after noon Nengwe got up and stretched. Mtundu, feeling the stifling air on his back, woke too, trying to work out when it was.

"Why's it not dark already?"

"It's after noon, a little I think. I really ought to go warn the lionesses," the lion looked to the sky beyond the narrow entrance.

"Nengwe, ya just got back and all you can think about is lionesses? Ye gotta rest."

"No, we can't. We're burning daylight."

"Nengwe, ya leave me alone in that daylight and I'm dead meat. Right now, the only way thing keeping me alive is you."

"Look, come sundown and I've got to go. I might be too late, they'll be out hunting most like and I'll not find them till morning."

"Yeah. I guess I can do what I have to in the dark."

"What do you have to do?"

"Told ya. I gotta see some people."

"What people?" yawned Nengwe almost closing his eyes.

"Big, important ones. Cain't say more 'less it doan' come off." The lion flopped to the ground, folding his forelegs under him. Mtundu stepped over to him and gently slipped an arm over his mane. As the lion slipped off, his head loose on his shoulders, the baboon softly stroked his mane and shoulders. "There ya go. You ain't no good to any of us if ya doan' rest."

Soon Mtundu was also asleep, his head resting on the lion's foreleg.

~oOOo~

Soon after sunset, bats streaming out to feed from high above on the great rock, Nengwalamwe struck out onto the eastern plain and headed off for Silent rocks. There he hoped to find Shaha at least. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to find Falana, and was quite convinced she didn't care to find him. Her desire appeared plain: to have nothing whatsoever to do with him. While it pained him to think of it, and of what might have been, he respected her wishes, so clearly shown, and was determined to let her be. He knew not why it was so with her, but now it seemed to be a waste and no little intrusion into her life to find out.

When he arrived at the crags he first saw and heard nothing. Then he felt a movement high up to his offside. He looked up in to the soft moonlight: nothing. He dropped his head, and was about to turn away to leave when he heard a familiar small voice.

"Welcome back Nengwalamwe." It was Shaha. "We thought you would return."

"We?" he asked without lifting his head.

"Falana and I. You know it can't be easy being Falana. Every lion, every male that she's been involved with has paid dearly for knowing her. All her cubs are dead."

"Mtundu told me."

"I think she feels that as everyone she knows suffers she must never get to know anyone."

Nengwe looked round to face Shaha lying high on one of the boulder tops. "Doesn't she know we suffer too from not being a part of her life?"

Shaha sighed softly. "I don't know; maybe she thinks there'd be more pain with her than without her. Perhaps she's just trying to spare you… us, that pain."

"You're her mother, surely you know her better than maybe and perhaps?" Nengwe padded forwards to the base of the rock. It rose shear from the earth. There appeared to be no way up.

"No one ever knows Falana. Maybe they think they did, but then perhaps she let them think it, but they never really know her. Not even me… maybe especially me. She has a lot to bear. She's the last of the Pridelands pride, the very last. I can't have cubs; I don't come into season anymore. She knows that if the Pridelands is to have any future, it rests with her. That means she must have cubs. That means she must have cubs soon." She paused, looking intently at Nengwe. "That means she must have your cubs, Nengwalamwe."

Nengwe pricked his ears and shook his head. "No, I don't want cubs with Falana." He dropped his head sadly, "No, that's not what I mean. I want Falana, all of her. Every time I see her I long to be with her, but she doesn't want to know, she doesn't see. I see her; I see the way she flows by. She like the river, when she's calm she runs deep and full, in the shallows she swirls and plays, yet she runs headlong down the gorge, carrying everything in her path, unstoppable, fierce and powerful. Then over the falls she goes, enveloping all who venture close. I see the curve of her back as it seduces me; taking my eyes wherever she is. Just a glance is enough… and yet all I can do is admire from afar; as soon as I get close she turns away. She doesn't want anything to do with me, and all I can do is let her get on with her life." He breathed deeply in resignation. "I don't want her just so as I can have cubs. I want her for her. I want her to want me; to be with me because she wants to, not because of her duty, or your expectation, or because she owes me anything or because she thinks I saved her from anything. All I can offer is me, just as I am. All I have for her may be pain and suffering but at least it would be side by side; together. I'm going to stand up to those dogs come what may. I don't know if I'll survive, but I have to do it. Not for Falana, or for you either, but for everyone. It's what I came here for, I know that now. Can you understand that?"

"Yes Nengwalamwe, I do. I think Falana does to, for what it's worth. But you can't do it alone, you need friends; allies."

"I have no friends. Well, I've got Mtundu, but he's not going to be much use in a tight spot. Oh and there's Yali, but somehow I don't think she'll be around when the time comes. A cub and a monkey, that's all."

"You've got more friends than you know, and I feel there's more to your friends than you realise. I'll do all that I can, and don't underestimate cubs. I was a cub once you know."

"Funny, I can't imagine you as a cub." He sighed.

"You don't need to Nengwe."

"And Falana?"

"Falana does what Falana does. Have you tried to alter the course of a river? Just remember, the river that runs through these lands is small, almost nothing. Further downstream it joins with other rivers, becomes part of them and together they flow on and on, united and mighty. You'd be wise to do a bit of meandering yourself Nengwalamwe."

"What do you mean? Meandering?"

"Take your time. Give Falana time to… be Falana. She knows what she's doing. You can't hurry love, and you certainly can't hurry Falana."

"Shaha, time is one thing I don't have any more. Elizabeth and the dogs are coming for me. If you and Falana are in their way they won't care. They'll simply take you down and keep right on going."

"I'm not leaving, Nengwalamwe. I was born here. I played as a cub here. I grew to an adult here. I bore Falana here; and others too. This is my home, I can never leave."

"Well, at least take care. Please look out. Trouble's on its way."

"I never go looking for trouble."

"I can believe that Shaha, but it finds us all just the same. I've got to go. I need to talk to Falana. Do you know where she is?"

"I'm sorry, I really can't help you."

"Well, thanks for telling me all this stuff. Though I don't know how it'll help. I've got bigger things to worry about just now." He nodded to Shaha. She got up and slipped down behind the rock. She soon emerged beside Nengwe who, leaning forward, rubbed his neck against hers. "Let all your hunts end well Shaha." He held himself there, for the first time feeling her pulse in her neck and the warmth of her flesh. Then he pulled back and began to turn to leave.

"And tell that baboon of yours I want to talk to him. Don't worry: he'll be alright, I'll look after him, and no, I won't eat him."

Nengwe walked off, back toward his great rock. Shaha watched him go. Once out of earshot she said quietly, "Falana? You can come out now."

Falana slid out of the shadows.

"How did you know mother?"

"You know I am everywhere, I see everything," Shaha said still looking away to the lion's rock. "That and you reek of sweaty Impala. How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough. 'I can never leave' my backside! We were down in the Nyangali for two rains!"

"He's going to find you."

"No, he won't. I'll go to him when I'm good and ready."

"You've been ready for days."

"That, mother, is why he's not going to find me. I can't believe he's going to get himself killed for me."

"He won't get himself killed if we're there to help. And he's right; Elizabeth will want to take us this time. She won't want to make that mistake again. Anyway, I thought you liked him."

"Nengwe? What if I do? He'll just get himself killed like… like…"

"No, he won't. He'll stand on that rock and everyone will see him: King of the Pridelands, and you can be at his side. You and a scruffy baboon…"

~oOOo~

Nengwe walked over to Falana's knoll, half expecting to find her lying alone on the bare patch of earth which she cleared through lying on it night after night. His suspicions were wrong; he called softly, almost furtively, hoping that no dogs were nearby: she was not there. He settled down and waited. Around him the night carried on: hyenas noisily brought down an impala; a gemsbok was born; a wild dog bitch wandered alone, confused and torn. Life went on.

Nengwe dozed in the final hour before dawn. He lay on his near side for most but from time to time turned onto his back and underside. At each twist his legs assumed a position even more uncomfortable than the last. At length he lay still, more or less squarely on his back, his offside hind leg partially raised so as to allow the warm, moist air to bathe his fully exposed underside from neck to tail. He enjoyed the feeling of openness and coolness on his spotlessly white, short underfur.

The hard stones embedded in the ground beneath began to push and grumble at his back. He realised that Falana might not come before he would have to return the great rock. The spot where Nengwalamwe laid, atop a knoll some five lengths by two, had once been covered by soft earth and thin grass. That had been before Falana took to lying there alone, watching the evening fall.

Nengwalamwe came to the now bareheaded knoll in the hope that Falana would return. It occurred to Nengwalamwe that despite his once clearly voiced disregard for lionesses, he actually needed them far more than they needed him. These were moments when he felt incomplete, as if he had stopped growing too soon and had been stuck forever without his mane.

His dreamless sleep was interrupted by Falana licking his cheek. She had finally decided to come to him. He murmured softly, "Falana, I need to tell you..."

"Shuushh!" came a young lioness's voice almost in his ear.

Nengwe started, opening his claws as his heartbeat climbed rapidly. He opened his eyes and peered into the stillness of the night, but all he could see was a fuzzy greyness. The muzzle drew back, resolving into: "Yali!"

"Shuussssssshhhh... keep it down, we don't want the whole savannah to know."

"Yali!" he shouted in a whisper that carried no more than a length. "What the - what are you doing here?" Nengwe stared hard at the cub. "Go home. You're a bit young to be out at this time of night."

"I told you once before: you'll find I'm a lot older than you think Nengwe. So tell me, do you love Falana?"

"If I tell you will you go home?" Nengwe asked pointedly. "I thought you said you didn't know Falana?"

"Oh, I know all sorts of things. You'll never know what I know you know."

"Ok, Ok. Yes, I... I… I don't know. Now will you go? Falana could be along any moment."

"Yeah, yeah. Will she have your cubs?"

"Cubs? You're far too young a cub yourself to ask about that sort of thing. If I ever find your parents I'll them a thing or two about what you get up to."

"Will she?" Yali insisted with soft eyes.

Nengwe sighed softly. "No, I don't think so. She's not interested in all that. I don't know what she is interested in. There's so much about her I don't know."

"Oh, she's not so hard to understand."

"Really? And what would you know about it?"

"Silent Rocks."

Nengwe peered at Yali in confusion.

"Silent Rocks are a whole load of boulders right?"

"Yes, of course they are."

"No, Nengwe, they are all one big rock. Most of its underground see. We only see the bits that break the surface. Falana's like that."

"I know she can be hard, but she's not made of stone."

"No, no, that'd be silly. No, when you're on the rocks, you can only be on one at a time, and you have to go down to the ground and then up again to get on another. Well, you would if you were me. You're bigger an' all, you can maybe jump from one to the next, at least for a bit."

"And that is Falana? How exactly?"

"There's different Falanas, just like there are boulders. She keeps each of her rocks apart; it's difficult to go from one to another, unless she wants you to. No one of them is Falana, all of them are Falana. Unless you can get to all the rocks, and go from one to the next easily, you'll never know her."

It seemed like the meaningless babbling of a cub, yet it made some sense. Even Shaha said she didn't really know Falana. What if she had been hurt so much that she put the bits of her life onto each of these rocks so that they couldn't and wouldn't know about the rest? If anything did happen to her, she could limit the damage to just that rock. She would go from one to the next, but each wouldn't know about all the others, only some, and maybe not even knew that others existed. It could be her lonely way of protecting herself.

Then again, what could Yali really know about Falana? What indeed could she know about? Not much about Shaha and Falana for sure. Ah, but then Shaha did warn not to underestimate cubs.

Then another thought struck him. If she knew so much about Falana, could she know about the other lionesses he and Mtundu had seen from the bluff? Whilst it was not unlikely for there to be two prides on these lands; it was more than big enough to support three or four; it was very odd that they had never met. But then Shaha had been there below the bluff with them, hadn't she? He wondered why he had never smelt, seen or even heard Yali's parents nor her siblings and cousins. She was still a cub and though she was seemingly capable of looking after herself, far beyond her age, she could hardly be living alone. So, where and who were her parents? Why did neither Falana nor Shaha know of them? Or was it that they didn't want to tell Nengwe of them?

He turned his head, slowly opening one eye to where Yali had been standing. She was still there, standing intensely as if she had all the energy in the world. "Haven't you got a home to go to? Come on, where are your parents?"

"My parents? You want to know where my parents are?" She giggled and turned as if to leave. Before she moved off she turned her head back to Nengwe and smiled, pulling her upper lip up slightly to let her teeth, still new, as witnessed by a gap low down to one side, shine in the thin pre-dawn light. She then turned and ran forward a few paces but, hearing no sounds from Nengwe, stopped at the bottom of the slope of the knoll and turned her head back once more, this time she did not smile quite so broadly.

"Come on! What are you lying there for? Come on, let's go!" Now she ran off without waiting further. Nengwe rose stiffly and watched the cub run, knowing that he would have no trouble catching her. He could not stay around all day however, and he wished he had a little more time to stretch. The earth of the knoll was hard and not entirely comfortable. He called after the running cub in an attempt to gain a little time. Not for a moment did he doubt what he was about to do. He was going after her and that was all there was to it. He was going to meet her parents, what harm could there be in that? Yet somehow his instincts had been set aside; for an adult lion to meet a pride male, particularly after running after his young daughter, was likely to have only one outcome: Nengwalamwe would have to fight. Yet all this did not even enter his thoughts

"But Yali? Where are we going?" Then in a lower voice, so as not to be heard, "as if I even cared." Nengwalamwe however did care. He really did care about this young lioness who wandered so casually in and out of his life. He tried to reassure himself, saying that it didn't really matter: "Why am I chasing after some cub anyway? It's Falana I should be chasing, if only she'd lie still and let me catch her."

"To meet my parents of course," came the clear unwavering reply. Nengwalamwe casually noted that her voice carried no hint that she was running, no tremor of exertion, yet running she was and Nengwe felt as though he might as well get on with it and run after her, perhaps the rush of the grass along his flanks would do him some good. In her current mood Falana was perhaps best avoided. Nengwalamwe did not like the idea of being scratched or worse by a moody and confused lioness.

He moved off and quickly drew his weight forwards, accelerating powerfully. Yet just where was Yali running to? As he had predicted he was closing on the cub with every stride, every pawfall: every press of his pads on the ground. Yet no matter how he tried, she somehow managed to keep ten or more lengths ahead. The going was easy and familiar enough, nothing but the gentlest of downhill slopes. The well grazed paw-high fine grass was interspersed by occasional tussocks of tougher and thicker grass that might have brushed his fur heavily had he not avoided it with supple mid-stride twists of his back and subtle sideways flicks of his tail. The soil felt warm and slightly yielding under paw.

The dawn overtook them both, bursting over the rock ahead, bathing it in dazzling gold. It enveloped Yali, Nengwe lost her as she approached the rock. He slowed for a few paces before stopping to stand, drawing his forepaws together. Yali had entered the deep shadows at the base of the rock where the dawn had not yet penetrated. He waited for any sign of the cub.

'Where'd she go? What a time for games!' He waited again then dropped his head and raised it again calling in a restrained voice, "Yali?" No answer came through the rising air of evening. 'Where did she go? Cubs can't just disappear.' Any of the caves, overhangs and ledges could hide a cub of Yali's age. It was a perfect playground for cubs, it was the perfect place for a family of lions yet, apart for Nengwe it was empty.

There was still no sound or scent of the cub. 'Just why don't Shaha and Falana live here?' He looked about, but realised he would be much better able to search from above, on the rock. He looked up to the long promontory of the rock. His instincts began gnaw at him, 'if her parents are here then I would know it. Yali's just playing cub games: "See me, Hunt me" I reckon. And where's Mtundu?'

Nengwe set off again, leaping over every boulder to the rock platform. No lion would dare to show himself around here, Nengwalamwe's scent marks bore silent witness to that. He slowed as he reached the tip of the promontory and looked all about him, even, as unnatural as it felt, below to each side. He padded tentatively forward to reach the tip. Once more he looked back to the north of the outcrop, shrouded in trees, past the ledge and the empty, draughty cave that lay beyond the branches of the ancient, blackened acacia, past the saddle between the tower and on to the northern mass beyond that lead to the boulders of the western fields. He looked to the rock pile that covered what he presumed to be the greatest of the rock's secrets. Neither a cub nor any living creature larger than a lizard met his gaze: Mtundu had indeed not returned. In frustration he filled his chest with the full warmth of the savannah and called out as loudly as he could over the plains below:

"Yali! Where are you?" His voice filled the rock and overflowed like the opening of the rains. He was about to roar again when, from far off to the east, came a returning call of a lioness. It was not full, complex and resonant like Falana's. It was strong yet broken and rough: Shaha's. He roared back with his eyes closed and head raised majestically. After, he paused again. Again he heard Shaha's response, caught and magnified by the rock face that towered behind him. He smiled wryly. 'Well Yali, I'm not that sure I wanted to meet your father anyway.'

He backed up gingerly, opening his eyes to look down to his forepaws. A couple of lengths back from the edge he turned carefully, swinging his great forepaws round, placing them precisely. If the dogs didn't know already, they could have no doubt at all: Nengwalamwe was back.

~oOOo~

Nengwe woke to sounds of soft approach. Someone was close. The breezes of earlier had abated and now an unmistakable scent drifted on the still air. He felt no need to rise, or even to look back to see who or what it was, the scent told it all. He felt a paw land at his near flank. It held for a moment and Nengwe was sure he could just feel breath on his shoulders. This time he was sure. Falana laid down beside him, pressing herself to him, laying her tail over his.

"You know, love's like that."

"Love's like what, Nengwalamwe?"

"Like all that out there. It's beautiful and has everything that keeps us alive."

She looked at Nengwe then raised her off forepaw, stretched it in front of her and brought it down, claws exposed, with a thud, lifting the dust into the air.

"No, Nengwalamwe, love's like my paw. It's strong, it tears and rips, and it can kill you if you're on the wrong side of it. It raises the dust around us and clouds our way."

Nengwe turned to Falana and stared at her. Was that what she really thought? Maybe Shaha was right.

She smiled at his discomfort then raised her paw and held it hovering above his head, her claws still glaringly exposed. He looked up uneasily, his unease began to turn to fear and he pulled his ear down. She smiled at him and said: "And yet, it brings..." she carefully lowered her paw so that it rested gently on his mane just behind his flattened ear. She drew her paw slowly and delicately down his mane and onto his neck sending shivers down his back. "... joy and pleasure in that pain. It gives us the will to live, and die, for others."

Nengwalamwe closed his eyes and could not help but enjoy the feelings of shimmering pleasure that welled up within him. Falana laughed and drew back her paw. "That's enough Nengwe. I wouldn't want you to think I was leading you on." She withdrew her paw, tucking it neatly under her. "What's all the noise about?"

"Elizabeth and the dogs. The dogs are coming for me. Not today most likely, nor tomorrow, but soon. You mustn't be here when they do."

"I can look after myself. I don't need any warnings from you."

"I'm serious. Can't you drop this 'Miss Independent' thing for just one day? A storm's coming, and I just don't want you to get caught up in it. Is that such a bad thing?"

"No Nengwe. I just don't need rescuing, that's all." Nengwe got up and paced about. "Nengwe, what happened to you?"

"What? Oh this? It's nothing."

"That's not nothing." Falana watched him anxiously. His ripped mane could not hide the still raging-raw torn skin beneath. "What happened?"

"I got into trouble. I went in a bit too deep. I wasn't looking."

"Too deep? Water?" She pushed her head forwards with an open mouth. "You mean you… you got attacked by a crocodile?"

"I messed up, but I'm still here."

"You survived a crocodile attack? That's not nothing Nengwe. That's a pretty big something. How did you do manage it?"

"I was lucky. It wasn't deep enough, it couldn't take me down. It had to give up. It's not that big a deal."

"Does it hurt?"

"A little; sometimes. It'll heal in time. My mane will be a bit ragged maybe, but hey, at least I'm still here."

Falana got up and walked over to him. She put up her forepaw, Nengwe shied back.

"Let me look. Can I do anything for you?"

"Look Falana, I know you don't see me that way, but you can't just turn up here whenever you like and cosy up beside me. You know what it does to me. It's not fair. You can do what you like, but I've just got to lie there and feel nothing!" He flicked round, tail high, for another pass across the promontory.

"I just thought you might be lonely and wanted some company. I want to help."

"Company? Company? You know I want more than that. I'm running out of time. You know the only way all this will end." He looked out to the eastern ridge, crunching up his eyes against the early morning sun. "Where the heck were you? I waited on your knoll all night for you."

"I was out."

"Out? Is that it? You were 'out'?"

He shook his head, then ran to the rock pile and sniffed at it.

"By the stars Nengwe, what are you doing?"

He began tearing away at it with his paws. "I'm clearing this rubble, what's it look like? At least it doesn't try to bite me back, and it doesn't go 'out'." Some of the rocks slipped, tumbling on to the promontory, grazing his foreleg.

"Oh yes? Looks to me like it can bite well enough."

Nengwalamwe thrust a forepaw into the hole which had opened up. He tugged at the rock frantically. There was a little movement; some rocks settled above, then nothing. Nengwe roared at the rock pile. It resolutely stayed put. He painfully twisted his paw out and then turned round to face Falana. She had gone.