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“Show respect!” Fabana stammered.
“SHOW respect? She will be SHOWN respect,” the light said. The false Roh’kash materialized as a beautiful female from the light. She dropped her front legs and wagged her tail. Shenzi began to bat her with her paws. With Fabana watching in near shock, her daughter began to wrestle with the Creator, laughing and finally collapsing in submission as Shenzi was bathed by Roh’kash’s own tongue.
As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, young Shenzi was the "daughter dearest" whom the false Roh'kash had anointed and given the power of life or death. And still not a word was breathed outside of Fabana’s family. “When the time is right, the truth will reveal itself,” the light would say. In a very bitter way, that would prove to be true.
CHAPTER 30: CONSOLATION
CHAPTER 31: MAKHPIL
CHAPTER 32: A CHILL WIND
CHAPTER 33: TAKA’S WOES
CHAPTER 34: OUR LITTLE SECRET
CHAPTER 35: THE OTHER LION
CHAPTER 36: THE ELEPHANT GRAVEYARD
CHAPTER 37: THE GORGE
It was the end of the world. Or close enough not to make a difference, anyway.
The thought raced through Simba’s fear maddened mind as he sprinted down the length of the gorge, his short legs flailing madly as he fought to keep ahead of the maelstrom behind him. The ground shook under his feet, sand spraying into his eyes as the leading edge of the wildebeest stampede began to pass by him on either side. Sharp hooves dug into the ground inches from his face, and he flinched away, scrambling madly to keep from being trampled. He glanced up at the bleating wildebeests and stumbled, paws flailing as he fought to keep his balance. He regained his footing and continued, tides of air rushing in and out of his lungs as he strained to keep ahead of the onrushing herd.
Ahead a dark shape hove into view; a twisted and gnarled remnant of a small tree, withered and half dead. Simba lunged for it, scrabbling up the old wood to the top. The one remaining limb swayed and creaked dangerously as he made his way onto it, tail flicking from side to side rapidly in an effort to stay balanced. One foot slipped, and his haunches slid out from under him. His front claws scored deep wounds into the old wood as he felt himself sliding over the side.
“Oh gods,” he thought, “I’m gonna FALL--”
His claws finally caught, and he laboriously hauled himself atop the limb, clutching it with fearful strength as he saw the wildebeest flowing past him like some insane river, their bleats and bellows of panic punctuating the constant thunder of their hooves.
High above, Zazu passed over the edge of the gorge wall and dipped his wings, plummeting into the crevasse as he scanned the ground rapidly. Squinting through the dusty haze, he saw the cub perched on an old limb and flew to him, fighting to keep his altitude in the roiling air.
“Zazu, help me!”
“Your father is on the way!” Zazu shouted. “Hold on!”
“Hurrrrry!” Simba screeched, as he slipped again, feeling the limb creak again under his weight.
Zazu shot away towards an overhanging ledge where Mufasa and Taka were sliding down the slope, paws scuffing in the dirt for purchase. Ascending, he flew to Mufasa’s side and pointed with one wing. “There! There, on that tree!”
Mufasa looked and felt his blood freeze up. Sweet Aiheu... ”Hold on, Simba!” he bellowed.
A passing wildebeest bumped the tree, shaking it with a loud CRACK! that all of them heard. Simba screamed in sheer blind panic as he felt the tree shift again, and saw splinters poking out from a break in the wood. Closing his eyes, he began to rapidly recite the prayer his mother had taught him when he was still nursing at her side:
Mufasa stared for a second, then clenched his jaw and leapt from the perch on the ledge, flinging himself into the stampede below. Taka and Zazu watched disbelievingly as they saw him weaving in and out between the panicked creatures with infinite grace. Zazu watched in horror, Taka in absolute glee.
“He’s going to get himself killed,” they thought simultaneously.
It was a dance of survival as Mufasa swerved among the jostling bodies armed with hooves, horns, and unstoppable speed.
Swept along in its irresistible crushing tide, Mufasa struggled to find Simba in the dust.
Next to him, a hapless gnu stumbled. Quickly she was overwhelmed and fatally battered, her dying shriek piercing Mufasa like a thorn. "No time to be afraid," he thought. "I must find him!"
Looming ahead was a branch. Dangling over certain death was a hysterical cub. "Simba!"
Zazu flapped about, near insane with panic. “Oh, Scar, this is awful! What are we going to do? What are we going to do?” He looked at Mufasa again, missing the look of annoyance that swept Taka’s features. The hornbill straightened as Taka raised a forepaw. “I’ll go back for help!! That’s what I’ll do, I’ll go back fo--”
Sudden dark descended as Taka backhanded the bird, sending him smashing into the rock wall with an audible crunch. Taka glanced at him, wondering if he had killed the idiot, when he saw the slow rise and fall of Zazu’s chest. Unconscious, then. He raised a paw to finish the job when he was distracted by a cry from below.
Mufasa grunted in pain as he was slammed backward, sprawling in the dirt. Raising his head, he gaped in horror as a wildebeest collided with the old tree, breaking it with a final rotten crack. Simba was flung up and away, screaming as he tumbled through the air, legs flailing desperately as he saw the ground rushing up at him--
--to be replaced by Mufasa’s jaws. The lion leapt through the air, catching Simba gently and bearing him off towards the side of the gorge. He dodged a cow, and sidestepped another--
--his rear foot slipped. A bull came rushing from the dust, ramming him with terrible force, eliciting a roar of pain as he felt the horns tear his side. Simba was flung unceremoniously away and landed amongst a sea of pounding hooves. Afraid to move, he sidestepped desperately, watching the bull as it passed overhead, feeling the thrumming under his feet. A warm grip surrounded him, and he felt Mufasa’s breath upon him again as he was swept up in his father’s jaws.
Mufasa ran through the deadly flood, the rumbling shaking him to the core, and the smell of sweat, fear, and dust pouring in with each gasp.
"Help me! Please, God, help me!"
He looked for a ledge, however small. Working his way to the edge, he considered trying to ride it out, but he was grazed by horns. One more inch and he would have been gored!
Finally he saw a place. He leaped, sat his child down, and grabbed for purchase.
“SHOW respect? She will be SHOWN respect,” the light said. The false Roh’kash materialized as a beautiful female from the light. She dropped her front legs and wagged her tail. Shenzi began to bat her with her paws. With Fabana watching in near shock, her daughter began to wrestle with the Creator, laughing and finally collapsing in submission as Shenzi was bathed by Roh’kash’s own tongue.
As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, young Shenzi was the "daughter dearest" whom the false Roh'kash had anointed and given the power of life or death. And still not a word was breathed outside of Fabana’s family. “When the time is right, the truth will reveal itself,” the light would say. In a very bitter way, that would prove to be true.
CHAPTER 30: CONSOLATION
Shimbekh turned again to Brin’bi for comfort. Her first love had fled, her sister was gone, and Gur’mekh had been picked clean by the jackals. Her parents had turned inward in their grief and were little help in sharing her own burdens. Brin’bi’s friendship upheld her during a time when all other support was gone. And over time her feelings for him had had grown to a love.
Brin’bi could feel that love, and it began to play upon him. He would appear to her more often, sometimes unbidden. And she never did anything to discourage him. In fact, she craved the every moment of the time they spent together.
Giddy as a young bak’ret on her first date, she went to all of the places she enjoyed and took Brin’bi on a tour of her private world. But her favorite thing was to lie in the grass Gur’bruk and Kambra were wont to do, gazing into his soft eyes and loving him without a word. In her rapture, she remembered the Ecstasy of Limlorin:
“What?”
“I don’t know if it would work with you in that body.”
“What??” Shimbekh was excited. “Come on, Brin’bi--are you holding back on me?” She peered deeply into his ka and could see his thoughts. “Let’s try it! Do you want to?”
“All right. Close your eyes.”
She stood, her eyes firmly closed. “Tell me when.”
“OK. Here goes....”
Shimbekh gasped. “I can feel you!”
Brin’bi slowly passed through her. “Shimbekh!” he cried in undiluted joy. “Do you feel like I do?”
“I hope so, Brin’bi! I can feel your joy! I can feel it! Warm, beautiful golden joy! You beautiful thing! Can you feel me too?”
“Yes!” He sighed. “I didn’t realize how much you loved me! Shimbekh, my darling Shimbekh!”
Brin’bi came on through, then turned around and kissed her.
She could feel the lick. It was warm and moist, not like a ghost. She opened her eyes and kissed him back. “Will you have me?”
“Do you know what you’re asking? You are still of this world with its passions and needs. Do you really want to pledge to me? A spirit?”
She smiled and said, “Yes, Brin’bi. We both saw our first love take the right fork when we took the left. But who’s to say the left fork can’t lead to happiness?”
He nuzzled her. “Bal dareth, Shimbekh?”
“Dareth koh, Brin’bi!”
They kissed and pawed each other. His touch was real and gentle. A tear rolled down her cheek. “Husband,” she sighed as a smile blossomed on her face. “Brin’bi, my husband!”
Brin’bi could feel that love, and it began to play upon him. He would appear to her more often, sometimes unbidden. And she never did anything to discourage him. In fact, she craved the every moment of the time they spent together.
Giddy as a young bak’ret on her first date, she went to all of the places she enjoyed and took Brin’bi on a tour of her private world. But her favorite thing was to lie in the grass Gur’bruk and Kambra were wont to do, gazing into his soft eyes and loving him without a word. In her rapture, she remembered the Ecstasy of Limlorin:
“If I had not died, we would have had pups and hunted together.” Brin’bi looked down. “I’m sorry I cannot give you what you want. Of course we could try....” Brin’bi stopped, embarrassed.
Gentle zephyr out of the west
Bear my love on wings of fire
Straight to the heart of my beloved!
Who is like unto him?
His smile begets the sunrise,
His touch, the joy of life!
“What?”
“I don’t know if it would work with you in that body.”
“What??” Shimbekh was excited. “Come on, Brin’bi--are you holding back on me?” She peered deeply into his ka and could see his thoughts. “Let’s try it! Do you want to?”
“All right. Close your eyes.”
She stood, her eyes firmly closed. “Tell me when.”
“OK. Here goes....”
Shimbekh gasped. “I can feel you!”
Brin’bi slowly passed through her. “Shimbekh!” he cried in undiluted joy. “Do you feel like I do?”
“I hope so, Brin’bi! I can feel your joy! I can feel it! Warm, beautiful golden joy! You beautiful thing! Can you feel me too?”
“Yes!” He sighed. “I didn’t realize how much you loved me! Shimbekh, my darling Shimbekh!”
Brin’bi came on through, then turned around and kissed her.
She could feel the lick. It was warm and moist, not like a ghost. She opened her eyes and kissed him back. “Will you have me?”
“Do you know what you’re asking? You are still of this world with its passions and needs. Do you really want to pledge to me? A spirit?”
She smiled and said, “Yes, Brin’bi. We both saw our first love take the right fork when we took the left. But who’s to say the left fork can’t lead to happiness?”
He nuzzled her. “Bal dareth, Shimbekh?”
“Dareth koh, Brin’bi!”
They kissed and pawed each other. His touch was real and gentle. A tear rolled down her cheek. “Husband,” she sighed as a smile blossomed on her face. “Brin’bi, my husband!”
CHAPTER 31: MAKHPIL
Shimbekh was as anxious as any new bride to present her love with a child, someone that would be theirs to love and nurture. But she had one problem--Brin’bi was dead. In fact, she was faced with the embarrassing complication of registering her marriage with the Roh’mach and one other witness.
Amarakh did not understand Shimbekh’s powers, but she did appreciate them. And anxious to have her young friend happy, she did not require any proof of their relationship, even the simple step of speaking with Brin’bi. Kambra was her other witness, and like Amarakh, she promised to keep the marriage a secret from the others.
Officially married, she set about the task of having a child. Having a surrogate okhim was out of the question--she wanted to keep herself pure for her husband. So the only other way was adoption.
There were certainly enough pups to choose from who wandered the stars, and she did consider giving her heart to one. But she wanted at least one warm body to lay beside her in the night, one who would grow and present her with grandchildren someday.
Ber’meer, a distant cousin, had married the daughter of a seer, and his daughter Makhpil showed an emergence of strong psychic powers.
Ber’meer had often given hints to Shimbekh of his desperate attempts to raise Makhpil. The stress of raising her was beginning to erode his marriage. Though it would be a challenge, Shimbekh liked Makhpil, and wanted to give her the home life she needed to grow into a secure and happy adult. It was either that or giving her up to the priestly caste for training. So Ber’meer was absolutely delighted when Shimbekh made him an offer. “Frankly, she scares me. I think she feels it, and she rebels against our authority all the time. Pardon my honesty, but I’m afraid she’s going to be another Gur’mekh”
When Makhpil was weaned, she went to live with Shimbekh. She was told that it was an extended visit, in the hopes that she would grow fond of her new parents before the adoption became final.
Makhpil was sad for perhaps a day. But once she peered deeply into Shimbekh’s eyes, she felt the spell of Shimbekh’s love. Like Gur’mekh, she was irresistibly drawn to her, drunken with a love she had not felt before.
Unlike most of the hyenas, Makhpil could easily spot Brin’bi whom she called Okhim from the beginning, and she quickly began calling him Maleh.
Shimbekh and Brin’bi did not treat her like a freak, but instead wrapped her in a warm, soft blanket of unconditional love. Under their encouragement, she quickly stopped her tantrums, blossoming into a vibrant young lady who was polite and anxious to please.
Makhpil showed every sign of being delighted with Shimbekh and Brin’bi, but after one week, she began to look very sad. She would not admit to it, much less discuss it, but she sank into a depression. Finally, Shimbekh saw her huddled in a corner of the den they had dug her, sobbing. There was no denying it then.
“Are you homesick, hon?”
“No!” She continued to sob.
“Well, what’s wrong?”
“You’re going to send me back! I don’t want to go home! They don’t love me--they’re scared of me!”
“Oh but they do love you. You frighten them, but you’re their little girl and they’ll always love you.”
“But not the way you do.” Makhpil sniffed, wiping her eyes with a paw. “I like it better here, Muti.”
Shimbekh shuddered. “Darling, you called me Muti!”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not!” She fondled her with her paw. “Honey tree, how would you like to be my daughter and live with your Maleh Brin’bi and I?”
Makhpil’s tail began to wag so strongly that her hips shook from side to side. She jumped up and kissed Shimbekh over and over until she had to laugh. “OK, I take it that means yes?”
Shimbekh now had a family, and though she missed the traditional closeness a wife would have to her husband, she adored Brin’bi all the more for coming to her unhappy world to keep her company. In the hard times ahead, he was a great comfort to her, as was Makhpil. Shimbekh saw in her what she once was, blithe, innocent and fresh.
Amarakh did not understand Shimbekh’s powers, but she did appreciate them. And anxious to have her young friend happy, she did not require any proof of their relationship, even the simple step of speaking with Brin’bi. Kambra was her other witness, and like Amarakh, she promised to keep the marriage a secret from the others.
Officially married, she set about the task of having a child. Having a surrogate okhim was out of the question--she wanted to keep herself pure for her husband. So the only other way was adoption.
There were certainly enough pups to choose from who wandered the stars, and she did consider giving her heart to one. But she wanted at least one warm body to lay beside her in the night, one who would grow and present her with grandchildren someday.
Ber’meer, a distant cousin, had married the daughter of a seer, and his daughter Makhpil showed an emergence of strong psychic powers.
Ber’meer had often given hints to Shimbekh of his desperate attempts to raise Makhpil. The stress of raising her was beginning to erode his marriage. Though it would be a challenge, Shimbekh liked Makhpil, and wanted to give her the home life she needed to grow into a secure and happy adult. It was either that or giving her up to the priestly caste for training. So Ber’meer was absolutely delighted when Shimbekh made him an offer. “Frankly, she scares me. I think she feels it, and she rebels against our authority all the time. Pardon my honesty, but I’m afraid she’s going to be another Gur’mekh”
When Makhpil was weaned, she went to live with Shimbekh. She was told that it was an extended visit, in the hopes that she would grow fond of her new parents before the adoption became final.
Makhpil was sad for perhaps a day. But once she peered deeply into Shimbekh’s eyes, she felt the spell of Shimbekh’s love. Like Gur’mekh, she was irresistibly drawn to her, drunken with a love she had not felt before.
Unlike most of the hyenas, Makhpil could easily spot Brin’bi whom she called Okhim from the beginning, and she quickly began calling him Maleh.
Shimbekh and Brin’bi did not treat her like a freak, but instead wrapped her in a warm, soft blanket of unconditional love. Under their encouragement, she quickly stopped her tantrums, blossoming into a vibrant young lady who was polite and anxious to please.
Makhpil showed every sign of being delighted with Shimbekh and Brin’bi, but after one week, she began to look very sad. She would not admit to it, much less discuss it, but she sank into a depression. Finally, Shimbekh saw her huddled in a corner of the den they had dug her, sobbing. There was no denying it then.
“Are you homesick, hon?”
“No!” She continued to sob.
“Well, what’s wrong?”
“You’re going to send me back! I don’t want to go home! They don’t love me--they’re scared of me!”
“Oh but they do love you. You frighten them, but you’re their little girl and they’ll always love you.”
“But not the way you do.” Makhpil sniffed, wiping her eyes with a paw. “I like it better here, Muti.”
Shimbekh shuddered. “Darling, you called me Muti!”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not!” She fondled her with her paw. “Honey tree, how would you like to be my daughter and live with your Maleh Brin’bi and I?”
Makhpil’s tail began to wag so strongly that her hips shook from side to side. She jumped up and kissed Shimbekh over and over until she had to laugh. “OK, I take it that means yes?”
Shimbekh now had a family, and though she missed the traditional closeness a wife would have to her husband, she adored Brin’bi all the more for coming to her unhappy world to keep her company. In the hard times ahead, he was a great comfort to her, as was Makhpil. Shimbekh saw in her what she once was, blithe, innocent and fresh.
CHAPTER 32: A CHILL WIND
Lenti tried to raise the children as best she could. When she would leave to go hunting, Krull was left in charge of his sisters. He learned at an early age to take on large responsibilities, something that would come into play when he became Roh’mach. He didn’t know it, but very soon he would have all the responsibility he could handle.
The pups were upset. “Muti is never this late!” Tela squealed. “I want my Muti!”
“She’ll be home soon,” Krull said. It’s way past mid-moon now.”
“How do you know she’s coming back?” En’geer said quietly. “How do you know?”
“Because she loves us. She would find some way to come back, no matter what.” He closed his eyes and quietly whispered, “Please God, let her come back!”
Time seemed to drag by. Krull did not want to admit it, but he was on the verge of tears himself. But he could not cry--he had to be strong. Still, he closed his eyes tightly and silently murmured, “Roh’kash ne nabu! Koh’pim ket ra mispa ojkhim! Muti ne gris....”
As if in answer to his prayer, he heard a stirring in the grass. But there was also a low moan. Running out of the den, he saw his okash limping, holding up one of her front paws. There was a large kick wound on her shoulder, and a trickle of blood stained the length of her forearm.
“Muti! What’s wrong??”
“Everything’s going to be fine. It’s nothing.”
The pups piled out of the den and began to mob her. She had no lack of help cleaning her wound, and three different offers for support in case she could not make it to the den.
“I’ve come half a mile like this. I think I can make it.”
Despite her confidence, she was stiff and ambled very slowly and painfully into the comfort of the burrow, where she collapsed exhausted.
She did her best to keep the wound clean, but it became infected and before long she could barely put weight on it.
Three nights in a row she went out hunting. Each time, she came back late and exhausted. And she never caught anything. Finally, she stopped trying to hunt and gave in to her growing weakness after she collapsed on the trail and had to be helped home.
Ber tried hard to gather enough food for her and the growing children. He began to grow a little gaunt, for he would eat very little and save most of his kills for them. Lenti could not afford false pride. She accepted the food gratefully, kissing Ber and gradually going from calling him Okhim to calling him Maleh.
A week passed. The rest had done her no good at all. In fact, she was getting steadily worse. When Ber brought her the leg from a gazelle, she was almost too weak to take a bite. She pawed his face and said, “You’re so good to me. I love you, Maleh.”
“I love you too. You must get well, you must!” He nuzzled her gently. “Lenti, pray about it. Pray as you’ve never prayed before. And you’ll know that somewhere I’m praying with you.”
After Ber left, Krull began pulling strips of meat from the carcass, mincing them in his teeth, and bringing them to his okash. He’d been doing that for a while now, for she was too weak to feed herself. Lenti pawed him and in a faint whisper said, “My special little boy!”
Unable to contain himself any longer, Krull burst into tears. “Muti! Muti!” he sobbed. “You got to get well again! You just GOT to!”
“Honey, I’ll try my best.” She shivered violently. “So cold! I’m so cold!”
It was very hot, actually, but her children knew the routine, and came and piled on her, their warm bodies giving her comfort. She began to relax. “Such good children. Someday I’ll make this up to you, I promise!”
She fell into a deep sleep, snoring loudly. Then shortly after mid-sun, she fell silent. Completely silent. Krull noticed he could not feel her chest rise and fall, and he tried to wake her.
“Muti! Wake up, Muti! Wake up!” He began to sob. “Muti, wake up!! Please!! Mutiii!!”
She was dead, and through the long afternoon and into the quiet evening they huddled in the darkness of the den next to her slowly cooling body.
Finally Ber came by with a rabbit. “Food! Come on out, you little rascals!”
Rather than pouncing on the food, they all came and huddled around him, sobbing. He kissed them, then went into the den where he found her body. “Oh, Lenti!” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Find my son. Find peace. Find Roh’kash. Your suffering is over, and now mine can’t get any worse.”
Ber and Sildresh opened their hearts to the children, digging a new den for them. The old den was filled in around Lenti. Ber could not bear for her beauty to be disfigured by scavengers.
“I hope this is the end of the tragedy,” Ber said, smoothing the dirt evenly where the entrance used to be.
But it was only the end of the beginning....
The pups were upset. “Muti is never this late!” Tela squealed. “I want my Muti!”
“She’ll be home soon,” Krull said. It’s way past mid-moon now.”
“How do you know she’s coming back?” En’geer said quietly. “How do you know?”
“Because she loves us. She would find some way to come back, no matter what.” He closed his eyes and quietly whispered, “Please God, let her come back!”
Time seemed to drag by. Krull did not want to admit it, but he was on the verge of tears himself. But he could not cry--he had to be strong. Still, he closed his eyes tightly and silently murmured, “Roh’kash ne nabu! Koh’pim ket ra mispa ojkhim! Muti ne gris....”
As if in answer to his prayer, he heard a stirring in the grass. But there was also a low moan. Running out of the den, he saw his okash limping, holding up one of her front paws. There was a large kick wound on her shoulder, and a trickle of blood stained the length of her forearm.
“Muti! What’s wrong??”
“Everything’s going to be fine. It’s nothing.”
The pups piled out of the den and began to mob her. She had no lack of help cleaning her wound, and three different offers for support in case she could not make it to the den.
“I’ve come half a mile like this. I think I can make it.”
Despite her confidence, she was stiff and ambled very slowly and painfully into the comfort of the burrow, where she collapsed exhausted.
She did her best to keep the wound clean, but it became infected and before long she could barely put weight on it.
Three nights in a row she went out hunting. Each time, she came back late and exhausted. And she never caught anything. Finally, she stopped trying to hunt and gave in to her growing weakness after she collapsed on the trail and had to be helped home.
Ber tried hard to gather enough food for her and the growing children. He began to grow a little gaunt, for he would eat very little and save most of his kills for them. Lenti could not afford false pride. She accepted the food gratefully, kissing Ber and gradually going from calling him Okhim to calling him Maleh.
A week passed. The rest had done her no good at all. In fact, she was getting steadily worse. When Ber brought her the leg from a gazelle, she was almost too weak to take a bite. She pawed his face and said, “You’re so good to me. I love you, Maleh.”
“I love you too. You must get well, you must!” He nuzzled her gently. “Lenti, pray about it. Pray as you’ve never prayed before. And you’ll know that somewhere I’m praying with you.”
After Ber left, Krull began pulling strips of meat from the carcass, mincing them in his teeth, and bringing them to his okash. He’d been doing that for a while now, for she was too weak to feed herself. Lenti pawed him and in a faint whisper said, “My special little boy!”
Unable to contain himself any longer, Krull burst into tears. “Muti! Muti!” he sobbed. “You got to get well again! You just GOT to!”
“Honey, I’ll try my best.” She shivered violently. “So cold! I’m so cold!”
It was very hot, actually, but her children knew the routine, and came and piled on her, their warm bodies giving her comfort. She began to relax. “Such good children. Someday I’ll make this up to you, I promise!”
She fell into a deep sleep, snoring loudly. Then shortly after mid-sun, she fell silent. Completely silent. Krull noticed he could not feel her chest rise and fall, and he tried to wake her.
“Muti! Wake up, Muti! Wake up!” He began to sob. “Muti, wake up!! Please!! Mutiii!!”
She was dead, and through the long afternoon and into the quiet evening they huddled in the darkness of the den next to her slowly cooling body.
Finally Ber came by with a rabbit. “Food! Come on out, you little rascals!”
Rather than pouncing on the food, they all came and huddled around him, sobbing. He kissed them, then went into the den where he found her body. “Oh, Lenti!” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Find my son. Find peace. Find Roh’kash. Your suffering is over, and now mine can’t get any worse.”
Ber and Sildresh opened their hearts to the children, digging a new den for them. The old den was filled in around Lenti. Ber could not bear for her beauty to be disfigured by scavengers.
“I hope this is the end of the tragedy,” Ber said, smoothing the dirt evenly where the entrance used to be.
But it was only the end of the beginning....
CHAPTER 33: TAKA’S WOES
"I'm coming of age, the time when a lion goes out into The Big World to make his fortune,” Taka told Sarabi. “Other than food and water, I have one need. Love, Sassie. Right now, Mom and Dad still love me. Maybe not as much as Muffy, but they do. And you love me, don't you?"
"Yes! How many times do I have to tell you??"
"Once," Taka said. "It's time we stated our intentions. I want you."
"We are not of age. Not in their eyes at least. It is corban. They would never agree to this."
"Then don't ask them to. If you will always love me, pledge to me. I won't ask more until you come to me of your own free will. But we'll go away together. We'll leave tonight at high moon."
Sarabi was taken aback. "I’m honored, really. But how are you so sure you will want me as your lioness? I mean we’re friends, but do you really know what you want?"
He reached out with a paw and fondled her strong, shapely form. "Our love could move Heaven and Earth. It would spread like ripples in a pond, growing, spreading, deepening. You know I want you. When you look at me, when you touch me, I want you. Sarabi, look at me. You know I want you."
"I believe you." She looked away. "You will be Prince Consort. It is foolish to go away when you are wanted here. It is safe here--out there in The Big World it is so uncertain. We have to think about our children."
"There is only one certainty I want," Taka said. "Before the gods, before the stars, before the assembled host I swear to give you my protection, my love, and my comfort forever." He waited for her reply. "Come on, Sarabi. Say it."
She started to hold her paw out to touch his, but it trembled and she pulled back.
Taka’s head bowed. "I understand. You are only a small lioness in a big world. How could you hope to fight destiny?" In a tone of resignation, he slumped sadly and said, “It would be better for all of us if I left. I want to be remembered with some kindness—maybe a little regret for what might have been. And it might have been fine, Sassie.”
Taka headed for the river valley, a predator whose only prey was his own self. Little did he know that he was also stalked by Melmokh the Makei. Behind him trotted an ominous silent shadow without an owner. Taka’s self-pity fed the hungry spectre, and renewed his hopes of one day realizing his dream to enslave Pride Rock and those who dwell about it.
Finally Taka stood on the edge of the river valley. What lay before him, he was not sure. Would there be peace at last? Peace and rest from his struggles?
Melmokh could not sit by and watch the show, though the moment was sweet to his great appetite. He was ready to cast a spell on Taka, but Mano appeared, interposing himself between the two. “You shall not have him.”
“Have him? HIM? I only plan to keep him from killing himself.”
Mano frowned. “A kindly gesture? From you?”
“Watch me with your own eyes. I will make him hungry, and I shall provide a meal for him.”
“I do not trust you.”
“While you are not trusting me, he’s about to jump.”
Mano looked about in alarm to see Taka looking off the edge of the cliff. He had to make a quick decision. “Look, I’LL make him hungry. YOU hunt him some prey. If this is one of your tricks, I will finish you the way I should have long ago.”
“Lord Aiheu, creator of the universe,” Taka stammered, “I stand far from the rest, alone for I am dying. Forgive the many hurts I have caused. The night is coming when the breath you gave me will return to the heavens. Gods, help me! I’m afraid. Let it be quick. Aiheu abamami!”
Before he could jump, he heard the death cry of a gazelle, and turned. He could see a lone hyena panting, pulling the hide off a fresh kill.
“I have fulfilled my part of the bargain,” Melmokh said. “Now I will leave him to his meal as I have said. You may follow me and see that I will not even speak to him till sunrise tomorrow.”
“I may do more than that,” Mano grumbled. “I have my own plans for him, so just you watch yourself!”
Of course Melmokh did not promise that he would not talk with Fabana, and through her thoughts get a glimpse into the misery of Taka to figure out how to consolidate power and have some real say in the Pride Lands. It did not however suffice to fill his whole ambition to become permanently manifested. He was looking for ways to do that.
"Yes! How many times do I have to tell you??"
"Once," Taka said. "It's time we stated our intentions. I want you."
"We are not of age. Not in their eyes at least. It is corban. They would never agree to this."
"Then don't ask them to. If you will always love me, pledge to me. I won't ask more until you come to me of your own free will. But we'll go away together. We'll leave tonight at high moon."
Sarabi was taken aback. "I’m honored, really. But how are you so sure you will want me as your lioness? I mean we’re friends, but do you really know what you want?"
He reached out with a paw and fondled her strong, shapely form. "Our love could move Heaven and Earth. It would spread like ripples in a pond, growing, spreading, deepening. You know I want you. When you look at me, when you touch me, I want you. Sarabi, look at me. You know I want you."
"I believe you." She looked away. "You will be Prince Consort. It is foolish to go away when you are wanted here. It is safe here--out there in The Big World it is so uncertain. We have to think about our children."
"There is only one certainty I want," Taka said. "Before the gods, before the stars, before the assembled host I swear to give you my protection, my love, and my comfort forever." He waited for her reply. "Come on, Sarabi. Say it."
She started to hold her paw out to touch his, but it trembled and she pulled back.
Taka’s head bowed. "I understand. You are only a small lioness in a big world. How could you hope to fight destiny?" In a tone of resignation, he slumped sadly and said, “It would be better for all of us if I left. I want to be remembered with some kindness—maybe a little regret for what might have been. And it might have been fine, Sassie.”
Taka headed for the river valley, a predator whose only prey was his own self. Little did he know that he was also stalked by Melmokh the Makei. Behind him trotted an ominous silent shadow without an owner. Taka’s self-pity fed the hungry spectre, and renewed his hopes of one day realizing his dream to enslave Pride Rock and those who dwell about it.
Finally Taka stood on the edge of the river valley. What lay before him, he was not sure. Would there be peace at last? Peace and rest from his struggles?
Melmokh could not sit by and watch the show, though the moment was sweet to his great appetite. He was ready to cast a spell on Taka, but Mano appeared, interposing himself between the two. “You shall not have him.”
“Have him? HIM? I only plan to keep him from killing himself.”
Mano frowned. “A kindly gesture? From you?”
“Watch me with your own eyes. I will make him hungry, and I shall provide a meal for him.”
“I do not trust you.”
“While you are not trusting me, he’s about to jump.”
Mano looked about in alarm to see Taka looking off the edge of the cliff. He had to make a quick decision. “Look, I’LL make him hungry. YOU hunt him some prey. If this is one of your tricks, I will finish you the way I should have long ago.”
“Lord Aiheu, creator of the universe,” Taka stammered, “I stand far from the rest, alone for I am dying. Forgive the many hurts I have caused. The night is coming when the breath you gave me will return to the heavens. Gods, help me! I’m afraid. Let it be quick. Aiheu abamami!”
Before he could jump, he heard the death cry of a gazelle, and turned. He could see a lone hyena panting, pulling the hide off a fresh kill.
“I have fulfilled my part of the bargain,” Melmokh said. “Now I will leave him to his meal as I have said. You may follow me and see that I will not even speak to him till sunrise tomorrow.”
“I may do more than that,” Mano grumbled. “I have my own plans for him, so just you watch yourself!”
Of course Melmokh did not promise that he would not talk with Fabana, and through her thoughts get a glimpse into the misery of Taka to figure out how to consolidate power and have some real say in the Pride Lands. It did not however suffice to fill his whole ambition to become permanently manifested. He was looking for ways to do that.
CHAPTER 34: OUR LITTLE SECRET
Since the birth of Simba, Taka had been made one plan after another to get rid of his young rival to the throne. Each in turn was discarded for one reason or another. Then finally he had a plan that just might work, one that relied on his hyena allies. Surely fate had guided him to them! And if fate guided him to the hyenas, fate must also decree that he would be King of Pride Rock. King at last!
Taka slowly paced up the rocky slopes of Pride Rock. Silently he practiced his elegy for young Simba. “A gentle, beautiful soul crafted from the deep love of his parents, whom the sun and moon smiled upon, and the stars called their friend!” He shook his head. “A beautiful soul crafted from the beautiful love of his parents, now borne to the heavens untimely. The other day, he came to me and said, ‘Uncle Scar, why don’t you have a child of your own?’ And I took him close—thank the gods I did—and told him that I did have a son. Or at least in my heart I did.” Again, he shook his head. “He said, ‘Uncle Scar, it’s so sad that you don’t have a child of your own!’ And I took him close....’” He stopped and a tear rolled down his cheek. “Oh yeah, that should wring tears from their hearts. I wish I’d thought about biting my tongue before! Sheer poetry of grief!”
He stood on the promontory. “It is with great sadness that I look into the sky tonight. For the heavens will shine a little brighter with his star, but my heart will be darker from this emptiness inside that only Simba’s sunshine could fill.” He looked down at the imaginary audience of lionesses, then placing a paw across his brow in great pain, he stared blankly at the distant horizon. “Oh gods, how low my heart sank when I found his little body....” He smirked. “Speak of the devil, there’s the little furball now....”
Taka realized what he’d just said. “Oh my gods! IT CANNOT BE!”
“Cannot be what, Scar?”
“Oh, Sarafina!” He chuckled, holding his paw over his heart. “I thought I saw a cloud-white eagle. That would have been an omen.”
“I didn’t know you were into shamanism.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
With that, Taka turned and slinked off of the promontory. “Of all the idiotic, contemptible, STUPID FOOLS! I should NEVER have sent Keth on a job like that! Even Shenzi tried to warn me, but no, Keth begged me, pleaded with me! ‘Oh, let me, let me!’ I’ll throw him in the thermal pool--that ought to warm his heart!”
Taka glanced out across the savanna again and sneered. There was Zazu, escorting His Highness the Furball. The lion’s eyes honed on Zazu like twin rapiers. He would have a little fun with Lord Stuck-up when the time came. Oh, yes...
Taka resumed his nervous pacing, seething inside. All Keth had to do was take his boys in quietly, overwhelm Mufasa and Simba, and sneak out. A simple plan. He had gone over it with them several times, and Keth had always said, “Simple! No problem! All we gotta do is run circles around Mustafa-”
“MuFAsa,” Taka would say, patiently.
“Whatever. Meanwhile, me and two other of my boys’ll take care of the cub.”
“And then?”
Keth would look at him blankly. Every darned time! So Taka would explain it again. “The river, you fool! You don’t want to be caught eating a lion cub. You throw him in the river for the crocodiles. After you take care of Mufasa. My gods, what part of that is so hard to remember??”
“Yeah, okay, fine, don’t tie your tail in a knot.”
Taka sat on a small patch of grass that had established itself in a pocket of the rock. With one of his claws he was idly making marks in the dirt. “Next time I see you, Keth, I’ll demonstrate each of the steps on you. Circles, snatching, ripping you from top to bottom, and yes, CROCODILES!”
Taka had been sure that by high sun, he would be ready to ascend the throne. Now the only thing he would ascend was the stony sloped path that led to his favorite resting spot, high above the ground. Taka sighed again and looked back across the rolling plains. The imbeciles had been spotted as soon as they crossed into the Pride Lands by that triple cursed Zazu. Gods, his eyes missed nothing! Mufasa had sent the bird back to escort his beloved hairball home while he dealt with the intruders.
Taka gnashed his teeth. At least he wouldn’t have to discipline the hyenas himself--his brother was taking care of that. “Another day, another plan,” he sighed.
“But what if they betrayed me??” The thought almost made his blood freeze. Mufasa was a large lion--a very large lion. Chances were good to excellent that he would end up with several more scars at least. Then would come banishment--or death. And death would almost be a mercy because he had no hunting skills. The best he could hope for would be a scavenging existence among the hyenas.
“If he attacks me, should I run at once, or try to fight first?” It was a dismal choice, and there was no certainty that the lionesses would accept him if he DID beat Simba in combat. They might rise up against him as a group.... Angry and frustrated, he swatted an offending bone out of his path and stalked across the rock ledge.
“Hey, Uncle Scar! Guess what?”
Taka froze, then resignedly looked around. “I despise guessing games,” he muttered.
Simba missed this and trotted up, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m gonna be King of Pride Rock!”
“Oh, goody,” Taka growled. “I can hardly wait.”
“My dad just showed me the whole kingdom,” the cub said, trotting to the edge of the cliff and looking out over the immense expanse of grassland. “And I’m gonna rule it all,” he said proudly, chuckling at his good fortune.
While he was bragging, Taka’s eyes gleamed like diamonds, hard and cold. He began to fantasize. The cub stood on the brink of the cliff, his paws placed delicately on the rough edge of rock.... Taka could creep over silently, draw back a forepaw and swat the cub with all his might. Then he could watch as Simba sailed outward, a scream trailing from his throat as he tumbled down, down, down....
He shook his head. Too risky. Too many questions would be asked, and there would be no answers. Instead, he dredged up a weak smile as Simba glanced at him. “Yes, well, forgive me for not leaping for joy.” Taka shrugged apologetically. “Bad back, you know.” He turned away and flopped to the ground rather ungracefully, ignoring the brat for the time being.
At least until he heard footsteps behind him. Taka gritted his teeth as Simba flopped across his neck, nuzzling his ear. “Hey, Uncle Scar? When I’m king, what’ll that make you?”
“A monkey’s uncle.”
Simba giggled delightedly and rolled away. “You’re so weird!” he laughed. Uncle Scar never ordered Simba around, or tried to make him wash behind his ears, or anything. In fact, he pretty much left Simba to do as he wished.
Taka rose and shook himself, then walked lazily over to the other side of the ledge. “So,” he said over his shoulder. “Your father showed you the whole kingdom, did he?”
“Everything!”
Taka wondered at this. “He didn’t show you what’s beyond that rise on the Northern border?”
Simba’s face crumpled, his ears flattening dejectedly. “Well, no. He said I can’t go there.” The cub looked decidedly put out.
A new hope gladdened Taka, and he had to fight to hold a stern expression. “And he’s absolutely right!” he ad-libbed. “It’s FAR too dangerous; only the bravest lions go there.” He let the bait dangle invitingly, looking away at the horizon.
Simba bit hard. “Well I’M brave! What’s out there?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Simba, I just CAN’T tell you.” He looked the other way, avoiding Simba’s hurt gaze.
“Why not?”
Taka looked at him paternally. “Simba, Simba, I’m only looking out for the well being of my favorite nephew.” He raised a paw and caressed the cub’s head lovingly, feeling the shape of the skull underneath. One tight clench of his paw....
Simba wriggled delightedly under his uncle’s touch. “Yeah, right. I’m your ONLY nephew.”
Taka smiled. “All the more reason for me to be protective!” His smile faded and he shook his head again, looking stern. “An elephant graveyard is no place for a young prince.” He slapped a paw to his mouth as if to stop himself. “Oooops!”
Simba was not just excited, he was ecstatic. “An elephant WHAT?! Whoaaa!” A look of total mischief fell over his face and he looked eagerly towards the dark area across the grassland.
Taka moaned. “Oh dear, I’ve said too much! Well, I suppose you’d have found out sooner or later, you being SOOOO clever and all.” His grin twisted as he drew Simba to him. “Oh just do me one favor,” he added softly. “Promise me you’ll never visit that DREADful place.”
Simba was silent for a moment, then smiled innocently. “No problem.”
The grin on Taka’s face was genuine. Taka could read his eyes like a book; the little snotnose was certain to visit the graveyard at the first opportunity!
“There’s a good lad. You run along now and have fun.” He brushed Simba away and watched him trot off. “And remember...”
Simba stopped and looked at him curiously.
“...it’s out little secret.”
The cub grinned and sped off. Taka watched him go, the smile on his face curdling into something else entirely. He rose and stretched, claws extending to their full length, looking dark and smooth, then relaxed, watching as they sank back partway and stopped, the tips still showing, gleaming razor sharp in the afternoon light. Nodding, he shook himself briskly and set off down the side of the rocks.
He had a little visit to make.
Taka slowly paced up the rocky slopes of Pride Rock. Silently he practiced his elegy for young Simba. “A gentle, beautiful soul crafted from the deep love of his parents, whom the sun and moon smiled upon, and the stars called their friend!” He shook his head. “A beautiful soul crafted from the beautiful love of his parents, now borne to the heavens untimely. The other day, he came to me and said, ‘Uncle Scar, why don’t you have a child of your own?’ And I took him close—thank the gods I did—and told him that I did have a son. Or at least in my heart I did.” Again, he shook his head. “He said, ‘Uncle Scar, it’s so sad that you don’t have a child of your own!’ And I took him close....’” He stopped and a tear rolled down his cheek. “Oh yeah, that should wring tears from their hearts. I wish I’d thought about biting my tongue before! Sheer poetry of grief!”
He stood on the promontory. “It is with great sadness that I look into the sky tonight. For the heavens will shine a little brighter with his star, but my heart will be darker from this emptiness inside that only Simba’s sunshine could fill.” He looked down at the imaginary audience of lionesses, then placing a paw across his brow in great pain, he stared blankly at the distant horizon. “Oh gods, how low my heart sank when I found his little body....” He smirked. “Speak of the devil, there’s the little furball now....”
Taka realized what he’d just said. “Oh my gods! IT CANNOT BE!”
“Cannot be what, Scar?”
“Oh, Sarafina!” He chuckled, holding his paw over his heart. “I thought I saw a cloud-white eagle. That would have been an omen.”
“I didn’t know you were into shamanism.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
With that, Taka turned and slinked off of the promontory. “Of all the idiotic, contemptible, STUPID FOOLS! I should NEVER have sent Keth on a job like that! Even Shenzi tried to warn me, but no, Keth begged me, pleaded with me! ‘Oh, let me, let me!’ I’ll throw him in the thermal pool--that ought to warm his heart!”
Taka glanced out across the savanna again and sneered. There was Zazu, escorting His Highness the Furball. The lion’s eyes honed on Zazu like twin rapiers. He would have a little fun with Lord Stuck-up when the time came. Oh, yes...
Taka resumed his nervous pacing, seething inside. All Keth had to do was take his boys in quietly, overwhelm Mufasa and Simba, and sneak out. A simple plan. He had gone over it with them several times, and Keth had always said, “Simple! No problem! All we gotta do is run circles around Mustafa-”
“MuFAsa,” Taka would say, patiently.
“Whatever. Meanwhile, me and two other of my boys’ll take care of the cub.”
“And then?”
Keth would look at him blankly. Every darned time! So Taka would explain it again. “The river, you fool! You don’t want to be caught eating a lion cub. You throw him in the river for the crocodiles. After you take care of Mufasa. My gods, what part of that is so hard to remember??”
“Yeah, okay, fine, don’t tie your tail in a knot.”
Taka sat on a small patch of grass that had established itself in a pocket of the rock. With one of his claws he was idly making marks in the dirt. “Next time I see you, Keth, I’ll demonstrate each of the steps on you. Circles, snatching, ripping you from top to bottom, and yes, CROCODILES!”
Taka had been sure that by high sun, he would be ready to ascend the throne. Now the only thing he would ascend was the stony sloped path that led to his favorite resting spot, high above the ground. Taka sighed again and looked back across the rolling plains. The imbeciles had been spotted as soon as they crossed into the Pride Lands by that triple cursed Zazu. Gods, his eyes missed nothing! Mufasa had sent the bird back to escort his beloved hairball home while he dealt with the intruders.
Taka gnashed his teeth. At least he wouldn’t have to discipline the hyenas himself--his brother was taking care of that. “Another day, another plan,” he sighed.
“But what if they betrayed me??” The thought almost made his blood freeze. Mufasa was a large lion--a very large lion. Chances were good to excellent that he would end up with several more scars at least. Then would come banishment--or death. And death would almost be a mercy because he had no hunting skills. The best he could hope for would be a scavenging existence among the hyenas.
“If he attacks me, should I run at once, or try to fight first?” It was a dismal choice, and there was no certainty that the lionesses would accept him if he DID beat Simba in combat. They might rise up against him as a group.... Angry and frustrated, he swatted an offending bone out of his path and stalked across the rock ledge.
“Hey, Uncle Scar! Guess what?”
Taka froze, then resignedly looked around. “I despise guessing games,” he muttered.
Simba missed this and trotted up, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m gonna be King of Pride Rock!”
“Oh, goody,” Taka growled. “I can hardly wait.”
“My dad just showed me the whole kingdom,” the cub said, trotting to the edge of the cliff and looking out over the immense expanse of grassland. “And I’m gonna rule it all,” he said proudly, chuckling at his good fortune.
While he was bragging, Taka’s eyes gleamed like diamonds, hard and cold. He began to fantasize. The cub stood on the brink of the cliff, his paws placed delicately on the rough edge of rock.... Taka could creep over silently, draw back a forepaw and swat the cub with all his might. Then he could watch as Simba sailed outward, a scream trailing from his throat as he tumbled down, down, down....
He shook his head. Too risky. Too many questions would be asked, and there would be no answers. Instead, he dredged up a weak smile as Simba glanced at him. “Yes, well, forgive me for not leaping for joy.” Taka shrugged apologetically. “Bad back, you know.” He turned away and flopped to the ground rather ungracefully, ignoring the brat for the time being.
At least until he heard footsteps behind him. Taka gritted his teeth as Simba flopped across his neck, nuzzling his ear. “Hey, Uncle Scar? When I’m king, what’ll that make you?”
“A monkey’s uncle.”
Simba giggled delightedly and rolled away. “You’re so weird!” he laughed. Uncle Scar never ordered Simba around, or tried to make him wash behind his ears, or anything. In fact, he pretty much left Simba to do as he wished.
Taka rose and shook himself, then walked lazily over to the other side of the ledge. “So,” he said over his shoulder. “Your father showed you the whole kingdom, did he?”
“Everything!”
Taka wondered at this. “He didn’t show you what’s beyond that rise on the Northern border?”
Simba’s face crumpled, his ears flattening dejectedly. “Well, no. He said I can’t go there.” The cub looked decidedly put out.
A new hope gladdened Taka, and he had to fight to hold a stern expression. “And he’s absolutely right!” he ad-libbed. “It’s FAR too dangerous; only the bravest lions go there.” He let the bait dangle invitingly, looking away at the horizon.
Simba bit hard. “Well I’M brave! What’s out there?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Simba, I just CAN’T tell you.” He looked the other way, avoiding Simba’s hurt gaze.
“Why not?”
Taka looked at him paternally. “Simba, Simba, I’m only looking out for the well being of my favorite nephew.” He raised a paw and caressed the cub’s head lovingly, feeling the shape of the skull underneath. One tight clench of his paw....
Simba wriggled delightedly under his uncle’s touch. “Yeah, right. I’m your ONLY nephew.”
Taka smiled. “All the more reason for me to be protective!” His smile faded and he shook his head again, looking stern. “An elephant graveyard is no place for a young prince.” He slapped a paw to his mouth as if to stop himself. “Oooops!”
Simba was not just excited, he was ecstatic. “An elephant WHAT?! Whoaaa!” A look of total mischief fell over his face and he looked eagerly towards the dark area across the grassland.
Taka moaned. “Oh dear, I’ve said too much! Well, I suppose you’d have found out sooner or later, you being SOOOO clever and all.” His grin twisted as he drew Simba to him. “Oh just do me one favor,” he added softly. “Promise me you’ll never visit that DREADful place.”
Simba was silent for a moment, then smiled innocently. “No problem.”
The grin on Taka’s face was genuine. Taka could read his eyes like a book; the little snotnose was certain to visit the graveyard at the first opportunity!
“There’s a good lad. You run along now and have fun.” He brushed Simba away and watched him trot off. “And remember...”
Simba stopped and looked at him curiously.
“...it’s out little secret.”
The cub grinned and sped off. Taka watched him go, the smile on his face curdling into something else entirely. He rose and stretched, claws extending to their full length, looking dark and smooth, then relaxed, watching as they sank back partway and stopped, the tips still showing, gleaming razor sharp in the afternoon light. Nodding, he shook himself briskly and set off down the side of the rocks.
He had a little visit to make.
CHAPTER 35: THE OTHER LION
Mufasa paced slowly along the edge of the Pride Lands, sniffing warily at the air. The sky had begun to darken from blue to crimson orange in the west, and the moon was wakening to its full glory. But Mufasa paid scant notice to the beautiful sight, his mind fixed on the sinister tumble of rock and bone that lay some distance away.
The graveyard had a certain fascinating quality to it, and he felt the same lure that young Simba did to plumb its mysteries. It was a hotbed of smoke and mists which arose from the ground in huge shadowy gasps that choked off breath and made eyes water. He wondered why the elephants would find such a dismal place to go meet Aiheu.
Besides, there were also the hyenas to consider....
His hackles rose at the thought of them. He had followed Zazu’s directions and intercepted a group of the miserable creatures a little ways inside his territory. At the sight of his approach, they had hesitated momentarily, as if considering, but the enraged bellow that had broken from his throat decided them, scattering them in panic and sending them fleeing back to their own homeland. Mufasa had let them go, allowing them to warn the others that The King was on guard.
He had plenty of ground to cover before he could go home. So after leaving a few signs of his passing, he tore himself away from the realm of the dead and padded off silently.
He had not gone far when a strange scent made him freeze in his tracks. He looked down and in the dim light saw what looked like lion tracks. He sniffed carefully.
A strange lion!
Another male had dared intrude on the Pride Lands! The tracks led out of the savanna and towards the graveyard. His cubs had been in danger--his home had been violated! Growling with rage, Mufasa turned and lumbered rapidly over the ground, eyes never leaving the trail in front of him. He reached the invisible boundary of the Clan, balked for a minute, then plunged ahead. Hyenas were one thing; lions another. Such an act dared not go unpunished.
He wended his way among the bones and ash, flicking his paws disgustedly as he stepped through a puddle of vile muck too wide to leap. Gods, what a miserable hellhole!
“Sire! Sire!”
Mufasa skidded to a halt as Zazu shot past and nearly submerged himself in the stinking morass that the lion had just traversed. The hornbill sighed in relief as Mufasa looked on, astounded. “What in the world are--”
“Sire! You have to hurry! Simba’s in trouble!”
Mufasa’s jaw snapped shut and he stared at Zazu. “What?”
“Quickly! Follow me! Oh, this is awful!” Zazu rose, dripping, and flapped away towards a twisted rock formation several lengths away. Mufasa padded after him, noting that the pawprints of the lion led that way also. And mixed in with them were--
His eyes widened in alarm as he saw the twin sets of tiny pawprints, clearly leonine, scattered among the bigger ones.
“No!”
His ears pricked up as he heard a distant shriek of terror. “Nala!” Galvanized, he leapt ahead, following the trail of prints around a corner, through a narrow stone gap, and finally into a cave. He blinked as he saw Simba and Nala, huddled under an old ribcage festooned with dried skin. The object of their fears were the three hyenas that now stood with their backs to Mufasa as they closed slowly on the cubs. One he recognized as Roh’mach Shenzi, and a silent snarl spread his lips apart in a deadly grimace.
Ahead, Simba growled roughly, the small sound echoing in the confined area.
“What? That was it?” Shenzi giggled and bent close. “You can do better than that. Come on, big boy.” She bared her teeth and bent towards the terrified cubs, preparing to rip out his throat, when the room was filled with a fierce roar. Something powerful struck the side of her head, sending her and her brothers sprawling. Looking up, she saw Mufasa, cuffing her brothers aside effortlessly, his roar drilling through her head and paralyzing her with fear. Another swipe of Mufasa’s paw landed her brothers beside her, and his huge head loomed over her, eyes glowing with a killing rage.
“Oh please don't hurt us!!”
“Uncle, Uncle,” Banzai cried in desperation.
Simba and Nala stood transfixed, limbs shaking in the fatigue of terror as the king berated the hyenas and sent them bolting in blind panic. Simba writhed in shame as he recalled his own puny roar. He ambled forward slowly, looking up at Mufasa with great reluctance. “Dad, I--”
He shrank away as Mufasa glanced at him, eyes blazing furiously. “You deliberately disobeyed me!”
“Dad, I--”
“Let’s go home.” He turned to go, glancing around. “I want to leave before we run into the other....”
The king fell silent as he stared back at the way they had come. The ground was marked by the prints of the two cubs, his own, and the tracks of the three terrified hyenas. But where the deep pawprints of the intruding lion had been, there was now only smoothly packed earth, marked only by time and the winds.
The graveyard had a certain fascinating quality to it, and he felt the same lure that young Simba did to plumb its mysteries. It was a hotbed of smoke and mists which arose from the ground in huge shadowy gasps that choked off breath and made eyes water. He wondered why the elephants would find such a dismal place to go meet Aiheu.
Besides, there were also the hyenas to consider....
His hackles rose at the thought of them. He had followed Zazu’s directions and intercepted a group of the miserable creatures a little ways inside his territory. At the sight of his approach, they had hesitated momentarily, as if considering, but the enraged bellow that had broken from his throat decided them, scattering them in panic and sending them fleeing back to their own homeland. Mufasa had let them go, allowing them to warn the others that The King was on guard.
He had plenty of ground to cover before he could go home. So after leaving a few signs of his passing, he tore himself away from the realm of the dead and padded off silently.
He had not gone far when a strange scent made him freeze in his tracks. He looked down and in the dim light saw what looked like lion tracks. He sniffed carefully.
A strange lion!
Another male had dared intrude on the Pride Lands! The tracks led out of the savanna and towards the graveyard. His cubs had been in danger--his home had been violated! Growling with rage, Mufasa turned and lumbered rapidly over the ground, eyes never leaving the trail in front of him. He reached the invisible boundary of the Clan, balked for a minute, then plunged ahead. Hyenas were one thing; lions another. Such an act dared not go unpunished.
He wended his way among the bones and ash, flicking his paws disgustedly as he stepped through a puddle of vile muck too wide to leap. Gods, what a miserable hellhole!
“Sire! Sire!”
Mufasa skidded to a halt as Zazu shot past and nearly submerged himself in the stinking morass that the lion had just traversed. The hornbill sighed in relief as Mufasa looked on, astounded. “What in the world are--”
“Sire! You have to hurry! Simba’s in trouble!”
Mufasa’s jaw snapped shut and he stared at Zazu. “What?”
“Quickly! Follow me! Oh, this is awful!” Zazu rose, dripping, and flapped away towards a twisted rock formation several lengths away. Mufasa padded after him, noting that the pawprints of the lion led that way also. And mixed in with them were--
His eyes widened in alarm as he saw the twin sets of tiny pawprints, clearly leonine, scattered among the bigger ones.
“No!”
His ears pricked up as he heard a distant shriek of terror. “Nala!” Galvanized, he leapt ahead, following the trail of prints around a corner, through a narrow stone gap, and finally into a cave. He blinked as he saw Simba and Nala, huddled under an old ribcage festooned with dried skin. The object of their fears were the three hyenas that now stood with their backs to Mufasa as they closed slowly on the cubs. One he recognized as Roh’mach Shenzi, and a silent snarl spread his lips apart in a deadly grimace.
Ahead, Simba growled roughly, the small sound echoing in the confined area.
“What? That was it?” Shenzi giggled and bent close. “You can do better than that. Come on, big boy.” She bared her teeth and bent towards the terrified cubs, preparing to rip out his throat, when the room was filled with a fierce roar. Something powerful struck the side of her head, sending her and her brothers sprawling. Looking up, she saw Mufasa, cuffing her brothers aside effortlessly, his roar drilling through her head and paralyzing her with fear. Another swipe of Mufasa’s paw landed her brothers beside her, and his huge head loomed over her, eyes glowing with a killing rage.
“Oh please don't hurt us!!”
“Uncle, Uncle,” Banzai cried in desperation.
Simba and Nala stood transfixed, limbs shaking in the fatigue of terror as the king berated the hyenas and sent them bolting in blind panic. Simba writhed in shame as he recalled his own puny roar. He ambled forward slowly, looking up at Mufasa with great reluctance. “Dad, I--”
He shrank away as Mufasa glanced at him, eyes blazing furiously. “You deliberately disobeyed me!”
“Dad, I--”
“Let’s go home.” He turned to go, glancing around. “I want to leave before we run into the other....”
The king fell silent as he stared back at the way they had come. The ground was marked by the prints of the two cubs, his own, and the tracks of the three terrified hyenas. But where the deep pawprints of the intruding lion had been, there was now only smoothly packed earth, marked only by time and the winds.
CHAPTER 36: THE ELEPHANT GRAVEYARD
Taka shook his head slowly and rubbed his temple with a forepaw, trying to massage away the headache that had formed there. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”
He looked down his nose at Fabana’s brood feasting on the zebra haunch he had tossed to them. How did they stand it in this hellhole? There they lay, stuffing themselves happily, wonderfully oblivious to how much more their lives could be, if only....
He shifted and angrily swatted a stone away, listening to the sharp CRACK as it ricocheted off the granite columns around him. If only.... His whole existence seemed to be made of if’s. IF he had been picked to be king instead of Muffy...IF Sarabi had not spurned his affections...IF that hairball had not been born.... His anger rose to the surface and he glared hotly at Shenzi. “Pfahh. Some Roh’mach! Two defenseless cubs! And you let them get away.”
“Defenseless?!” Banzai indicated his torn rump. “I’d hate to see them when they’re ready for a fight!”
“He’s right.” Shenzi returned Taka’s glare. “It wasn’t exactly like they was alone, Scar.”
“Yeah! What were we supposed to do?!” Banzai chewed and swallowed a huge chunk of flesh, belching horribly. “Kill Mufasa?” The three hyenas laughed.
Taka’s eyes flared as his mind began working, coming to life with terrifying speed. A huge grin spread across his face as he leered over the stone ledge at the hyenas, who grew suddenly silent at his gaze.
“Precisely.”
Taka stood and stretched, luxuriating in the feeling. He bounded from his perch to land quietly in front of Shenzi. Banzai and Ed scrambled away madly, and Shenzi could only stare, spellbound, at the apparition before her. Taka met her gaze, his eyes burning with an inner light, matching the phosphorescent green hue of the methane pits around them, each fueled by its own inner decay. Steam hissed from a nearby thermal vent in a white exclamation of heat, and she bit her tongue to keep from shrieking.
Taka saw the fear on her face and drew close. “Calm, my dear,” he purred. “You have nothing to fear from me. Through me your people will find salvation.”
Shenzi’s trembling stilled, her eyes widening. Had not Roh’kash herself said, “I will send you a sign. From thine enemy will come deliverance; your greatest fear shall be your greatest hope.” Shenzi had despaired of ever seeing the sign in her lifetime. Now she fell before Taka, her eyes misting. “Roh’kash ne nabu! Praise God!”
Taka bent and kissed her forehead. “Rise, Shenzi. Rise before your new king. For I swear to you: by the sunset tomorrow, I will release you from this torment.”
“How?”
“It will not be easy. I will need your help.”
“Of course!” But the Roh’mach’s ears perked up at that. “Messiah or no, he still needs us,” she realized. The thought turned in her mind slowly, a dark and tantalizing morsel that made her grin. Perhaps this was another sign from Roh’kash Herself. The Mother of All would not lead her children out of despair only to lick the paws of a lion, even such a one as Taka. Oh, no. Something greater beckoned, and Shenzi saw a vision of herself at the tip of Pride Rock, much as Gur’mekh had before her. She could feel the wind caress her as she looked out over the green savanna, pups playing at her heels, with all the kingdom bowing before her in homage. She smiled, genuinely this time, and nodded to Taka.
“Whatever assistance you need, you have but to ask.”
The lion grinned again, and turned to look at the assembled host of hyenas who had silently gathered behind him. He scanned their ranks, only half noticing, his thoughts centered on the spire of Rock that lay across the plain.
“It appears the great Mufasa is willing to risk life and limb to save his son, even to the extent of coming into the graveyard alone. Did you note this, Banzai?”
“Yeah, boss.”
“Did you note it most carefully? Did you really?” Taka peered at him interested, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “And what conclusion did you draw?”
Banzai swallowed. “Uhh, he wasn’t worried about himself? Just Simba?”
“Brilliant! I shall make you a warlord in my new army.” Taka laughed, a strangely empty sound. The lion looked around at the desolation, the age old kingdom of bone and stone that the hyenas had existed in for years, and spat. He lifted his head and stared again at the finger of rock where his brother lay sleeping without a care in the world. Taka’s claws extended slowly and raked across the stone at the thought of Mufasa snuggled close to Sarabi, sharing her warmth, or even greater comforts....
He gritted his teeth and willed the vision away. It went easily enough; it had tormented him many times over the past few months, and it waited with infinite patience, knowing it would have its chance again.
Taka looked up at the crescent moon overhead. “The time has come to break free from the mud and climb to the heights. The curse that has harmed me all my days must and shall be dispelled. I am through RE-acting. It is time to ACT. And you, my brother, had best be prepared.”
He looked down his nose at Fabana’s brood feasting on the zebra haunch he had tossed to them. How did they stand it in this hellhole? There they lay, stuffing themselves happily, wonderfully oblivious to how much more their lives could be, if only....
He shifted and angrily swatted a stone away, listening to the sharp CRACK as it ricocheted off the granite columns around him. If only.... His whole existence seemed to be made of if’s. IF he had been picked to be king instead of Muffy...IF Sarabi had not spurned his affections...IF that hairball had not been born.... His anger rose to the surface and he glared hotly at Shenzi. “Pfahh. Some Roh’mach! Two defenseless cubs! And you let them get away.”
“Defenseless?!” Banzai indicated his torn rump. “I’d hate to see them when they’re ready for a fight!”
“He’s right.” Shenzi returned Taka’s glare. “It wasn’t exactly like they was alone, Scar.”
“Yeah! What were we supposed to do?!” Banzai chewed and swallowed a huge chunk of flesh, belching horribly. “Kill Mufasa?” The three hyenas laughed.
Taka’s eyes flared as his mind began working, coming to life with terrifying speed. A huge grin spread across his face as he leered over the stone ledge at the hyenas, who grew suddenly silent at his gaze.
“Precisely.”
Taka stood and stretched, luxuriating in the feeling. He bounded from his perch to land quietly in front of Shenzi. Banzai and Ed scrambled away madly, and Shenzi could only stare, spellbound, at the apparition before her. Taka met her gaze, his eyes burning with an inner light, matching the phosphorescent green hue of the methane pits around them, each fueled by its own inner decay. Steam hissed from a nearby thermal vent in a white exclamation of heat, and she bit her tongue to keep from shrieking.
Taka saw the fear on her face and drew close. “Calm, my dear,” he purred. “You have nothing to fear from me. Through me your people will find salvation.”
Shenzi’s trembling stilled, her eyes widening. Had not Roh’kash herself said, “I will send you a sign. From thine enemy will come deliverance; your greatest fear shall be your greatest hope.” Shenzi had despaired of ever seeing the sign in her lifetime. Now she fell before Taka, her eyes misting. “Roh’kash ne nabu! Praise God!”
Taka bent and kissed her forehead. “Rise, Shenzi. Rise before your new king. For I swear to you: by the sunset tomorrow, I will release you from this torment.”
“How?”
“It will not be easy. I will need your help.”
“Of course!” But the Roh’mach’s ears perked up at that. “Messiah or no, he still needs us,” she realized. The thought turned in her mind slowly, a dark and tantalizing morsel that made her grin. Perhaps this was another sign from Roh’kash Herself. The Mother of All would not lead her children out of despair only to lick the paws of a lion, even such a one as Taka. Oh, no. Something greater beckoned, and Shenzi saw a vision of herself at the tip of Pride Rock, much as Gur’mekh had before her. She could feel the wind caress her as she looked out over the green savanna, pups playing at her heels, with all the kingdom bowing before her in homage. She smiled, genuinely this time, and nodded to Taka.
“Whatever assistance you need, you have but to ask.”
The lion grinned again, and turned to look at the assembled host of hyenas who had silently gathered behind him. He scanned their ranks, only half noticing, his thoughts centered on the spire of Rock that lay across the plain.
“It appears the great Mufasa is willing to risk life and limb to save his son, even to the extent of coming into the graveyard alone. Did you note this, Banzai?”
“Yeah, boss.”
“Did you note it most carefully? Did you really?” Taka peered at him interested, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “And what conclusion did you draw?”
Banzai swallowed. “Uhh, he wasn’t worried about himself? Just Simba?”
“Brilliant! I shall make you a warlord in my new army.” Taka laughed, a strangely empty sound. The lion looked around at the desolation, the age old kingdom of bone and stone that the hyenas had existed in for years, and spat. He lifted his head and stared again at the finger of rock where his brother lay sleeping without a care in the world. Taka’s claws extended slowly and raked across the stone at the thought of Mufasa snuggled close to Sarabi, sharing her warmth, or even greater comforts....
He gritted his teeth and willed the vision away. It went easily enough; it had tormented him many times over the past few months, and it waited with infinite patience, knowing it would have its chance again.
Taka looked up at the crescent moon overhead. “The time has come to break free from the mud and climb to the heights. The curse that has harmed me all my days must and shall be dispelled. I am through RE-acting. It is time to ACT. And you, my brother, had best be prepared.”
CHAPTER 37: THE GORGE
“...but know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father’s life
Now wears his crown.”
--SHAKESPEARE: HAMLET: ACT I, SCENE V
It was the end of the world. Or close enough not to make a difference, anyway.
The thought raced through Simba’s fear maddened mind as he sprinted down the length of the gorge, his short legs flailing madly as he fought to keep ahead of the maelstrom behind him. The ground shook under his feet, sand spraying into his eyes as the leading edge of the wildebeest stampede began to pass by him on either side. Sharp hooves dug into the ground inches from his face, and he flinched away, scrambling madly to keep from being trampled. He glanced up at the bleating wildebeests and stumbled, paws flailing as he fought to keep his balance. He regained his footing and continued, tides of air rushing in and out of his lungs as he strained to keep ahead of the onrushing herd.
Ahead a dark shape hove into view; a twisted and gnarled remnant of a small tree, withered and half dead. Simba lunged for it, scrabbling up the old wood to the top. The one remaining limb swayed and creaked dangerously as he made his way onto it, tail flicking from side to side rapidly in an effort to stay balanced. One foot slipped, and his haunches slid out from under him. His front claws scored deep wounds into the old wood as he felt himself sliding over the side.
“Oh gods,” he thought, “I’m gonna FALL--”
His claws finally caught, and he laboriously hauled himself atop the limb, clutching it with fearful strength as he saw the wildebeest flowing past him like some insane river, their bleats and bellows of panic punctuating the constant thunder of their hooves.
High above, Zazu passed over the edge of the gorge wall and dipped his wings, plummeting into the crevasse as he scanned the ground rapidly. Squinting through the dusty haze, he saw the cub perched on an old limb and flew to him, fighting to keep his altitude in the roiling air.
“Zazu, help me!”
“Your father is on the way!” Zazu shouted. “Hold on!”
“Hurrrrry!” Simba screeched, as he slipped again, feeling the limb creak again under his weight.
Zazu shot away towards an overhanging ledge where Mufasa and Taka were sliding down the slope, paws scuffing in the dirt for purchase. Ascending, he flew to Mufasa’s side and pointed with one wing. “There! There, on that tree!”
Mufasa looked and felt his blood freeze up. Sweet Aiheu... ”Hold on, Simba!” he bellowed.
A passing wildebeest bumped the tree, shaking it with a loud CRACK! that all of them heard. Simba screamed in sheer blind panic as he felt the tree shift again, and saw splinters poking out from a break in the wood. Closing his eyes, he began to rapidly recite the prayer his mother had taught him when he was still nursing at her side:
His voice stuck on the last word, his head shaking in mute negation as tears began to run down his cheeks. “Oh God, I don't want to die!”
God bless us all, from king to cub
All members of my pride
The kings above will show their love
And take me to their side
My star will shine with Aiheu's grace
Amid the midnight sky
There to stand and guard the land
Forever when I --
Mufasa stared for a second, then clenched his jaw and leapt from the perch on the ledge, flinging himself into the stampede below. Taka and Zazu watched disbelievingly as they saw him weaving in and out between the panicked creatures with infinite grace. Zazu watched in horror, Taka in absolute glee.
“He’s going to get himself killed,” they thought simultaneously.
It was a dance of survival as Mufasa swerved among the jostling bodies armed with hooves, horns, and unstoppable speed.
Swept along in its irresistible crushing tide, Mufasa struggled to find Simba in the dust.
Next to him, a hapless gnu stumbled. Quickly she was overwhelmed and fatally battered, her dying shriek piercing Mufasa like a thorn. "No time to be afraid," he thought. "I must find him!"
Looming ahead was a branch. Dangling over certain death was a hysterical cub. "Simba!"
Zazu flapped about, near insane with panic. “Oh, Scar, this is awful! What are we going to do? What are we going to do?” He looked at Mufasa again, missing the look of annoyance that swept Taka’s features. The hornbill straightened as Taka raised a forepaw. “I’ll go back for help!! That’s what I’ll do, I’ll go back fo--”
Sudden dark descended as Taka backhanded the bird, sending him smashing into the rock wall with an audible crunch. Taka glanced at him, wondering if he had killed the idiot, when he saw the slow rise and fall of Zazu’s chest. Unconscious, then. He raised a paw to finish the job when he was distracted by a cry from below.
Mufasa grunted in pain as he was slammed backward, sprawling in the dirt. Raising his head, he gaped in horror as a wildebeest collided with the old tree, breaking it with a final rotten crack. Simba was flung up and away, screaming as he tumbled through the air, legs flailing desperately as he saw the ground rushing up at him--
--to be replaced by Mufasa’s jaws. The lion leapt through the air, catching Simba gently and bearing him off towards the side of the gorge. He dodged a cow, and sidestepped another--
--his rear foot slipped. A bull came rushing from the dust, ramming him with terrible force, eliciting a roar of pain as he felt the horns tear his side. Simba was flung unceremoniously away and landed amongst a sea of pounding hooves. Afraid to move, he sidestepped desperately, watching the bull as it passed overhead, feeling the thrumming under his feet. A warm grip surrounded him, and he felt Mufasa’s breath upon him again as he was swept up in his father’s jaws.
Mufasa ran through the deadly flood, the rumbling shaking him to the core, and the smell of sweat, fear, and dust pouring in with each gasp.
"Help me! Please, God, help me!"
He looked for a ledge, however small. Working his way to the edge, he considered trying to ride it out, but he was grazed by horns. One more inch and he would have been gored!
Finally he saw a place. He leaped, sat his child down, and grabbed for purchase.