Foreword

Have you ever asked, or heard asked, the question, "Why doesn't she just leave?" While that is not the theme of this story, and I don't try to answer the question - I'm not even saying who "she" is - it is a theme. If you do find yourself considering asking the question then think on this: this is her home; her land; her children, her family and friends are all here; this is her life; her everything. Why on earth should she leave?

The Anniversary

Two lionesses looked at each other in bewilderment. One, shaking her head, moved carefully forward, checking the ground with a forepaw. Where Scar had stood, two lengths of the cliff edge had disappeared. The lioness lay down to spread her weight. She inched forward to the clean-broken edge from which a trickle of earth fell. She held still; it stopped. Looking down where only seconds ago there had been solid ground, at first she saw nothing.

"Well, can you see him?"

Trying to control her breath, her throat drying with the dust, she replied, "No." Then, swathed in dust, far below beyond a desiccated tree now torn apart, a ridge emerged. "Wait…" Laying on it, deathly still, was the unmistakable form of Scar. "I see him."

"Come away. Leave him there…"

Sarabi needed sleep. She always needed sleep. As each long day passed, each night came too late and went too soon. Yet each day brought more work and more pain. Soon she would have to wake again; well before her night was done; drag herself out of rest to hunt, to feed not just her pride but the hyena legion too.

Sarabi would always wake before being woken, if indeed she slept at all. It would be time again soon. In the heavy pre-dawn dark, a nameless hyena would soon come to slap, claw and insult her to her paws before escorting her off to hunt again. If they would only leave her to her sleep, leave her to grieve, to remember.

Even when sleep finally caught hold of her she was not free to rest: the past clung about her, filling her with dread, pain and loss. She had had so much: a loving mate, an only son, a mother and a sister she lived to complain about. Her mother's loss, at the hunt, had struck Sarabi hard. Her mate was dead; her son lost, and now her mother. All those close to Sarabi had left her, all except Sarafina, the lioness now lying asleep at her side. Sarabi feared even her once indomitable spirit was now close to breaking.

It was already light when Sarabi awoke. She was afraid. Cloud shielded the sun, but once again promised no rain. She had overslept: the hyenas would never forgive that. She had barely opened an eye when her hazy ears caught a male lion's voice: "No, no, no. Let them be this morning."

A female hyena answered sharply, "Hey Scar? Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh yes. I mean, look at them: poor things; far too tired to hunt."

"So who's going to get us breakfast?"

"Hmm, let me think…. Ah yes, now I know this is a stretch even for your tiny minds, but how about you hunting for yourselves for a change? It's such a lovely morning, don't you think?"

"You want us to hunt? US? Why should we hunt? They're so good at it!"

"In that case, you could do with the practice."

"What? Are you serious?"

"Oh yes. And there's just one more little thing. It's nothing."

"I know you and your little things, Scar."

"No really, it's nothing. Just bring Nala back here with you."

"Nala? I thought you said you never wanted to see her again."

"Details, details." Scar sighed and shook his head. "Just go and get her… and don't bother me again."

Shenzi tipped her head toward Sarabi, narrowing her eyes. Sarabi closed her eyes and laid her head on Sarafina's neck, stretching forward to lick. "Oh, don't worry about them. They'll be just fine with me. We've got a big day ahead of us. It is such a lovely day, isn't it? Did I already mention that?"

The hyena breathed heavily, threatening to break into a growl.

"Off you go, Shenzi, and remember: you won't get a thing without me."

Closing her eyes, Sarabi heard Shenzi muttering to herself as she scuttled off.

It was well into mid-morning before Sarabi woke again. Sarafina was gone. Sarabi looked around, lifted her head, yawned and stretched her foreclaws out and relaxed them back. She half-heartedly scratched at her side with a hindpaw: two lax swipes finding none of her itches. She snatched herself to her feet; her legs, unaccustomed to being straight, wavered, but held.

"Hey! Take it easy!" A young lioness slipped into view ahead of Sarabi. "What's the hurry?"

Sarabi stared at the lioness. "Nala? Nala, what are you doing here? Scar'll kill you if he finds you here."

"Scar sent for me."

"Scar sent… for you? Why?" Sarabi looked to the ground. "No, don't tell me - I don't need to know."

"It's not that."

"Whatever it is, I can't stay to find out. I've got to go hunting."

"No you haven't. We've got to stay here."

Sarabi shook her head. "I'm late already. I have to go. We've got to go if you've any sense."

"Don't worry Sarabi; Malala's led the others out, she'll do fine. We're not going anywhere."

"Well now Nala, that's not strictly true is it my dear?"

Scar, it had to be Scar.

"Go on then, Nala. Tell Sarabi. You know you want to."

"No Scar, I don't want to. You tell her yourself."

Sarabi dropped her chin on to her foreleg. "What is it Scar? What's going on?"

"No, no, I'm not going to ruin the surprise. You'll both just have to wait until Sarafina gets back. Then we can all be one big, happy family."

Nala and Sarafina weren't family. Had Simba grown up to love Nala then perhaps? Sarafina and Nala were more than family: they were friends. Sarabi could choose her friends. She had never chosen Scar. He was just her mate's, Mufasa's, brother. Scar had brazenly taken advantage of Mufasa's sudden, tragic, painful dea… She struggled to think the word. Are you? Are you really… dead? Scar had usurped his own brother and appeared insensible to his young nephew's disappearance. Simba could not be dead. He could not be. He lived, somewhere, surely?

After taking the kingdom, Scar had brought in the hyenas to pillage the Pridelands; to suck the land dry and gnaw on its bones, and Sarabi and all the other lionesses had to get it all for them. Mufasa's magnificent Pride Lands, green and gold and leaping with life, had faded and fallen to arid dust, twisted, lifeless, creaking wood and bones. Bones left to crumble in the incessant sun. I've failed you. I couldn't stop it. They made us. He made us. We had no choice but to kill, kill everything until there was nothing left but bones, dust and death. Then the wind came, scouring the land; stripping the grass. We huddled together for days, eyes tight shut to the dust-blackened, stinging wind. We did this. We chased off the herds. We drove off the rain. No… I did, I raped your Pride Lands.

Once, Sarabi had not understood how Mufasa could have feared the hyenas, yet now, and for over a year, she saw it clearly. Her hate for them grew with every morning, when, snatched from sleep, they dragged her out to hunt for them. FOR THEM!

Sarabi composed herself, choking down her feelings. "Well Scar? What's this all about?"

"Sarabi, Sarabi, don't be so impatient. You know it doesn't suit you. Why should I care if you don't want to go for a little walk to the gorge on such a lovely day as this? Oops, I've said too much! Oh please tell me you've forgotten it already, please?"

"But the gorge Scar! Do you know what day it is and how much this means to Sarabi?"

"Why yes Nala, I do believe I do. Now who's the king?"

Nala half turned her head away, replying meekly, "You are."

"Oh yes, so I am!" Scar's tone sharpened. "Now don't you forget it… again!"

Sarabi pressed herself to Nala's side. It had been several weeks since the two had last been together. Nala had not been near Pride Rock since Scar had sent her away for rejecting his advances. She had used the time away from the rest of the pride well; testing and honing her hunting and stalking. She was now a young lioness who could more than look after herself.

Scar turned away and walked back to the cavern. Nala and Sarabi lay down in silence on the rock promontory. From the cave they heard Scar complaining in muffled, unintelligible echoes to Zazu.

Soon Sarafina bounded up to them, her normally bright eyes dimming. "Sarabi? Are you – Nala, what are you doing here?" Sarabi raised a forepaw to her lips and turned her ears to the cave. Nala rolled her eyes. Sarafina nodded slowly. "Oh… I see."

Why? Why go there? That's where it happened; both gone and everyone else after them. Is this the day Scar will finally tell all that happened? Is he finally about to tell the truth?

The three lionesses were now far from Pride Rock. The ground was near barren and deeply cracked. When it happened it had been fertile, flushed with green. Herds thousands strong grazed there, now it was as dead, dry and empty as Sarabi's heart.

"Why are you dragging us out here? This had better be good!"

"Good? Good's such a little word, don't you think? Why, it's better than good. This, my dear Nala, is truly magnificent. Just look… such a wonderful sight isn't it?"

The overcast slid past, they stepped down from a low ridge. To the right the gorge cut through the bronzed sward, slitting the land clear to the low northern hills. The widest chasm, rock pinnacled and tinder-dust floored, stretched out before them. On any other day it's striated sandstone, its scattered acacias, its sheer presence, witness to countless ages, would have indeed been magnificent. Yet not this day, not this place, not this company.

Sarabi shivered, halting, hanging back, head low, not looking. Sarafina whispered to her. "Come on Sassi. It's not far now. Don't give him the satisfaction."

The cloud scurried over once more, bringing a slight chilling of the air. Sarabi looked up, still holding back.

Scar walked on ahead. "Oh do come along," he chivvied. "You really don't want to miss this. Honestly, you'll thank me. You will; I promise."

Sarafina rolled her eyes and whispered to Sarabi, "See? He's enjoying this. It'd be such a shame not to ruin his 'big day'."

"Why did he have to bring us here? Here of all places? Why Sarafina? Why?"

"You know how he likes to big it up. Come on, the sooner we do this, the sooner we can get back home."

Sarabi closed her eyes. On opening them, she brought herself to look ahead, head just above her shoulders. She had been here before, to see the place where Mufasa had… the place where Simba was last seen. She inhaled, held for a moment, and then nodded slowly, moving forward.

"That's the way. That's my Sassi."

Scar stopped a few lengths short of the gorge edge and turned. Nala, Sarafina and finally Sarabi came up to him and stood facing him. There was little sound, other than a faint wisp of a breeze that ruffled Scar's mane from behind. The expanse of the gorge, here almost at its deepest and widest, spread out behind him. On the far side, all too clearly visible, was the steep slope where Sarabi now saw the herd, several thousand wildebeest strong, surging down to the gorge floor. Under that unstoppable wave, Mufasa and Simba fell.

"Ah, here we are. Wonderful, isn't it?"

"What? Can't you see Sarabi's hurting? What do you mean by dragging us all the way out here?"

"Nala! Why is everything about Sarabi? On a day like today it should be about me, after all it is the anniversary of my ascension to the throne. Oh yes, it was two years ago that my dear brother so tragically died here, and Simba… well, he vanished."

"Vanished? Scar, what happened to him?"

Sarabi sharply inhaled and shook her head. "Please Sarafina, not now. Please."

"Yes Sarafina, listen to your friends." An unfamiliar sound, a trickling, crumbling, shuffling sound – the falling of loose earth – came from beyond Scar. All four listened until it stopped. Scar quivered as if something had fallen on him then he tipped his head momentarily as if shaking it off.

"Now where was I? Ah yes. It's been two years." Scar moved forward. The lionesses stood their ground. "Two long, lonely years as your king." He moved closer to Sarabi. "Very lonely years." He smiled and turned to Sarafina. "Two years without any company of my own kind. Not exactly very friendly now are we, hmm?" He snapped his head to Nala. "Not a right and proper way to treat your king who has treated you all with the utmost respect; a king who only has your interests, and those of his loyal subjects, at heart. You would think that all of you would adore me, after all I've done for you." He turned back toward the gorge edge. "But no! You all shun me, reject me. You moan, you complain about me behind my back; you conspire against me! You should all support me – your king – but no, you can't even do that one little thing!"

Nala looked in puzzlement toward the other two lionesses.

"But I'll forgive you, if you decide to show me proper respect."

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Nala, you of all lionesses know what I mean! You who rejected me. If you all don't change your ways, I'll send you all away for good. There's others who I am sure would be more than willing to take your places; lionesses who know how to look after their rightful king."

Nala glared at Scar. "You are not our rightful king!"

"Oh no? So who is? Mufasa? No, he's dead. Simba? Where is he Sarabi? Where is your precious Simba?"

"Scar! Stop this! Can't you see what you're doing to Sarabi?"

"ME! Oh very well. Sarabi, now listen to me." Sarabi raised her head defiantly. "Listen. I can see how upset you are. I really can. Now listen, let no one mention your mate's name again."

"Do you mean Mufasa? You can't be serious!"

"Why yes Sarafina - and I'll let you off that one. Let it be known that no one is to ever mention that name again." He leaned his head, looking at Sarabi. "It's for your own good Sarabi. You'll be much happier now that you don't have to keep on being reminded."

Nala protested, "But Scar –"

"No buts! I am the king. I have spoken, it is so."

Nala turned and stomped away.

"Oh what is her problem? Well, you, Sarafina, you're her mother: what's wrong with her this ti –"

The earth shook. A rumble folded over the gorge. Thick dust clouded the group, obscuring Scar. He cried out. A hawk's screech pierced the dust, echoing from the gorge walls. A second later the crashing, rending sounds of wood splitting rang up. Moments later a dull thud closely followed by a crash.

Nala froze. The dust began to clear. Sarabi and Sarafina looked at each other in bewilderment. Sarabi, shaking her head, moved carefully forward, checking the ground with a forepaw. Where Scar had stood, over five lengths of the cliff edge had disappeared. Sarabi lay down to spread her weight. She inched forward to the clean-broken edge from which a trickle of earth fell. She held still; it stopped. Looking down where only seconds ago there had been solid ground, at first she saw nothing.

"Well, can you see him?"

Trying to control her breath, her throat drying with the dust, she replied, "No." Then, swathed in dust, far below beyond a desiccated tree now torn apart, a ridge emerged. "Wait…" Laying on it, deathly still, was the unmistakable form of Scar. "I see him."

"Come away," said Sarafina flatly. "Leave him there…"