Hala’s forepaw was still raised, though it quivered slightly as he regarded the small, lifeless body lying crumpled amongst fallen leaves and gnarled roots. The neck was broken, the body lying twisted and unnaturally where he had fallen.
It had been an accident, of course, but Hala had no experience with cubs and he had not realised – until it was too late – that a little too much force could prove fatal. The cub had tried to run away and he had been punished with death.
The dark lion growled anew, curling his lips back to reveal pointed, yellowing fangs. Damn. Now he’d need to traipse back to that blasted female and steal another cub away. He hadn’t wanted to deal with her squeals of distress or her flailing claws again, though she’d probably tired herself out from her last attempt at keeping him away from the cubs. She’d put up a reasonable fight, but she was far weaker than he. A good cuff across the muzzle and she had crumpled to the ground.
He had taken his two sons from her, then, and her shrill cries had called out their names as he had carried them away. He did not remember what she had called them, but it didn’t matter. He had intended to give them new names, anyway. New, strong names to represent the lions they would grow to become.
He lowered the paw to brush the little body aside into the undergrowth only to find the remaining cub leaping in to bar his way. He had a dark pelt and brown mane – like Hala’s own, but his markings bore the blue shade of his mother. He had brown eyes, too, though from which ancestor they came from, he did not know. Those eyes looked up at him beseechingly, a tiny growl in his throat.
A brave son, even as tiny as he was!
“You cannot protect him now.” Hala spoke low in his throat. “He is dead. Do you know what that means?”
The cub said nothing but neither did he move.
“He is gone. Forever.”
The nameless cub stepped backwards, the backs of his legs knocking against the dead cub and then, with a small cry, he turned and set a paw on his brother’s shoulder and gave him a shove, not wanting to believe that he was gone. He was right there. Right there. Why wouldn’t he just wake up?
“Death is to sleep and never wake up.” Hala growled, hooking a paw underneath the surviving cub and setting him roughly aside. “Learn from his mistake or else you’ll be dead, too.”
The cub shrank back against the foliage, his ears pinned against his head and his eyes were wide and fearful. He said nothing but he didn’t need to. His father scared him, he wanted his brother. He wanted to go home.
“You will learn.” Hala snarled. “To look up to me. To respect and fear me. You must, if you want to live.”
Still silence.
“Stay here. I will need to fetch one of your sisters. Two is better than one, and since she had a large litter, there is plenty left to choose from.” He hadn’t exactly wanted to have a female cub. Girls could still be raised to be strong but they could not hope to match the strength of a well-trained male. Either way, he supposed that having a female as a back up assassin would be better than none at all.
“Are you listening, cub?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good. Now, stay here. I will not be long. Move and you’ll be joining that brother of yours in his endless sleep.” He narrowed his eyes and waited for the cub to show that he understood. Eventually the child gave a small nod and hunkered down onto the ground, peering up with that ever present fear. Hala supposed fear was better than defiance.
With a warning growl, he turned and slipped back the way he had come. He would be gone for perhaps an hour, having taken the cubs far enough away that he knew their mother would not be able to follow without risking the lives of her remaining children. It angered him to have to return and show his face again, but it had to be done. He was not going to put himself through this again. He had not considered how strong a mother’s bond was with her children, nor the comeback from taking an unwilling partner. If he had chosen someone who was happy to aid him in his task then he could have saved himself a lot of trouble. But he had been aware of depleting time and the likelihood of finding someone like that. Nissa had been alone and she had been strong. She had also been of dark colours and born him many dark-pelted children.
Perfect little assassins to hide in the shadows.
The hard-work, at least, had paid off. If only he hadn’t hit that cub so hard!
Meanwhile…settling into the damp grass, the cub tucked his paws in tight to his chest and turned to look at his brother. Still he had not moved and he remembered, quite clearly, his squeal of terror as his father’s rebuke had sent him flying through the air. Daring to stir again, the cub pulled himself up onto his paws and moved over to press himself against his sibling’s side. The body was cold and stiff. Not warm and soft.
Death seemed like such an unwelcome and lonely place.
He didn’t want to be dead.
He hooked his chin over his brother’s side, much as he had done when they had all been tucked up in the den together, and shuddered from the lack of warmth.
“Goodnight, Marek.” His little voice was so small it might have belonged to a mouse. Then, with tears in his eyes, he repeated what he had heard his mother say to them many times before.
“Sleep well. We’ll be away from this place someday and…” He closed his eyes. “I will be able to smile easier.”
/fin.
