Togo and Kombi had never been on a hunt before. Increasingly aware of the perils that prideless lions faced, they went to their mother and pleaded for a few lessons. Uzuri agreed, for she wanted to spend some time with her sons in their old home. She knew the land intimately. Like all lionesses, she thought that the land was alive. Its breath stirred in the wind, and she could almost feel its pulse beneath her feet. Pride Rock was the heart of the land, and it had a permanent place in her own heart. Could she learn to love Pride Kopje? Yes, if Ugas was there. But she would always feel regret for what she had left behind.

Uzuri was initially delighted by their request. She had no daughters of her own, and now that the opportunity presented itself, she jumped at the chance to pass on some of her knowledge to her offspring. She began instructing them in some basic skills, and looked forward to sharing some of her secret tricks and tips to help ensure a successful kill. She was a patient teacher as well as a huntress beyond compare, but as time wore on it became readily apparent that none of her natural ability was in them. They had the facile charm of their father Ugas, and they looked like a couple of likely fighters if territory must be defended. But they were no hunters.

Late that afternoon, she stood in the tall grass at the foot of Pride Rock, bending her head now and then as she imitated a grazing gazelle. Several yards away, Togo and Kombi were flattened in the depths of the grass, breathing rapidly as they practiced a pincers maneuver for the umpteenth time. They had been going at it since before high-sun, and the heat was oppressive in the lush vegetation.

Togo eased his head up gingerly, his russet mane matted with perspiration as he peered through the grass. Sweat ran into one eye, stinging, and he winced. Blinking furiously, he saw his mother about six body lengths away, her back to him. A grin split his features and he sank down again. Motioning to Kombi, he eased off sideways, intending to line up on an oblique angle while Kombi executed the main attack.

Kombi nodded and crept forward slowly, placing his paws carefully. His forelegs quivered with exhaustion and nerves, the result of the last five failed attempts to successfully get within striking distance. His tail lashed, and he stepped forward again.

“Movement!” Uzuri shouted. “Movement is the key to hunting. A lion has to have discipline, else instinct takes over, and control is lost.” Her voice hardened. “Togo is five lengths behind me. Kombi, you are to my left at the same distance. What do you intend to do, drive your prey by thrashing at the grass like humans?”

Kombi stood up and shouted, “Damn! What did I do wrong NOW?”

“Watch your mouth, child.”

“I’m not a child, mother!”

“You are until your mantlement, which is only a week away, in case you’ve forgotten!” Uzuri snapped. “You are too noisy; you thrashed your tail and gave away your position easily. Togo, you were silent enough...but you moved against the grain of the grass when you began the flanking maneuver; I saw the trail cutting through the grass as soon as you moved.”

Togo sat up miserably. “I’m sorry.”

“And have you forgotten about the wind?! I was downwind of you the whole time; I smelled you coming. You can conduct an upwind attack ONLY if you have superior speed or numbers to cut off fleeing prey...and neither of you is fast enough.” Uzuri stopped, claws extending in frustration.

“Mom? I’m sorry.” Kombi hung his head. “I didn’t mean to smart off like that.” He blinked pathetically at her, eyes bright with pain at her obvious disappointment. Kombi cursed himself for being so clumsy. His mother was the best hunter he had ever known, and here he was, embarrassing her.

The shame came across clearly, and Uzuri felt anguished as she saw the cub buried inside the huge frame, hungering for her approval, desperate to prove himself the son of a great huntress. Her eyes burned, and she looked away. “It’s all right. Sit here and rest. We’ll try again in a moment.”

Togo began to cry. “We’ll never learn this! We’re going to starve!”

“No, you’ll have lionesses to help you.”

“Oh?”

“What I’m about to tell you must be just between us. Togo, Kombi, you are not going to be wanderers. One of you will be a King, and the other will be a Prince Consort.”

“Sure,” Kombi said. “When we find us a Pride of our own.”

“I’ve made an arrangement already. But you must tell no one, understand?”

“Yeah,” Togo said, tears starting down his cheeks. “Mom, you’re the greatest!” He nuzzled her and kissed her. Kombi fell to the ground and rolled over on his back, pawing at the sky.

“Blessed Aiheu,” he muttered. “Thank you, Aiheu! You’ve saved us! Mighty God, King of all Kingdoms, thank you!”

For several moments, all the brothers could do was nuzzle and kiss their mother as her warm tears of joy ran freely down her cheeks. In her heart, she knew she could find happiness with her husband and sons by her side. They would be a family the way Simba, Nala and Tanabi were.

She looked again at the beautiful vista of the Pride Lands. She had been born here, raised to maturity, learned her craft on these plains. It had been her pride and pleasure to serve three generations of kings as the hunt mistress, her skills respected and unmatched by any lion for miles around. She would be laying that down and passing the leadership to another younger set of shoulders. Misha was a quick student, and one day she would be Queen. The question was not whom to pick but how to break the news to her. It was a heavy responsibility for one so young, but she was the same age Uzuri was when Kiva had anointed both her cheeks with the blood of her prey and kissed her.

At first Kiva was relieved to lose the burden, but Kiva was alone. Her brothers had left after a commoner’s mantlement, and she had no mate or cubs of her own. Shortly after losing her position, she began her decline into depression, bad health, and eventually death. Uzuri had always thought she had died of grief. But that would not happen to her, she determined. Not to Uzuri....

Togo and Kombi were flush with optimism. They believed that they would not be leaving the Pride Lands, and that some way, somehow, Tanabi did not want to rule the Pride on his father’s death. That one day they would stand on the promontory of Pride Rock and proclaim the new kingship.

They had promised their mother to keep strictest silence about the arrangement, but they went to a few of the attractive young lionesses and spread the wonderful news that two of them would marry the most eligible bachelors in the land. Each of them promised to keep it to themselves, but gossip started to circulate.

“Why doesn’t Tanabi want to be King?” Isha asked. “Is there something wrong with him? Has he lost his nerve?”

“Not our Tanabi,” Ajenti said. “He’s plenty brave enough. Maybe he has a weakness--one that he’d rather talk about. The poor boy!”

Barata drew close and whispered, “Fact is, I think he has weak eyes.”

“No!” Ajenti said, taking in a gasp. “The poor boy! How bad is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Barata said. “He bumped right into his mother the other day.”

“I thought that was an accident,” Isha said.

“It was. He didn’t deliberately do it. But Nala said, ‘What’s wrong with your eyes, son?’”

Ajenti bowed her head. “The poor boy!”

“Hi,” Tanabi said, nodding at the lionesses.

Ajenti came right up into his face. “It’s me, Ajenti.”

“Uh, yeah. I know.”

“Taking it easy, dear?”

“Well, I guess so. I had a little unexpected free time today. I thought I’d go to the water hole and just kick back.”