Chapter 2
Nala speaks . . .
Life was never the same after that horrible night. I still remember the utter terror of seeing those hyenas – thousands upon thousands of them, it seemed – creeping down from every crevice of Pride Rock . . . laughing madly . . . sickly smiles upon their faces . . . The memory alone gives me chills . . .
Simba's mother, however, seemed to harden at the prospect of a henceforth miserable life. The tears stopped flowing at once, and she lifted her head and tightened her jaw as if silently vowing to Mufasa "I will bear this for you, my husband, I will protect our pride and bear this burden for you, my husband and my king." And from that day forth, Sarabi was forever changed. I never saw her smile or laugh until the day Simba returned to us.
No, she moved about, silent as stone, a solemn and proud fallen queen. Zira forever took her crown in a last humiliating blow: "Now that your husband is dead (she said the words coldly and maliciously to Sarabi and I saw the latter's legs tense as if she longed to pounce upon Zira) I am the queen and you will take your orders from me."
Sarabi said nothing. Though the young and proud Zira deluded herself that she was a great and powerful female influence on the pride, Sarabi was still the queen in our hearts and minds. Zira gave an order, but once her back was turned, Sarabi turned to us and gave another one . . . and we followed it.
Then one dry and dismal night, as the hyenas cackled and suckled on the bones of our kill, I was noticed for the first time since Mufasa's death. Scar, it seemed, had pointedly ignored my existence, but Zira's bright eyes were forever fixed upon me.
I still remember those terrifying nights when my mother was forced to go on hunts and leave me at Pride Rock . . . My mother, of course, refused to leave me at first, but Zira stepped forward (by now she seemed to realize that Sarabi was the only one from which we took orders and she was pale and trembling with anger) and she leaned close to my mother's face as I hid behind her legs and whispered slyly, "If you don't go on a hunt tonight, something might . . . happen . . . to little Nala in the night. You don't want that, do you?" And my mother gazed down at me with large, and fearful eyes, but Sarabi stepped close to Sarafina and whispered something soothing in her ear. (I was not to learn the matter of these whispers until much later.)
My mother then agree to leave me while they went on the hunt. I sobbed and begged to go along, but Zira caught me up in her mouth and tossed me behind her. "Quiet, brat!" she hissed and I cowered, stung, against the wall . . . tears coursing down my cheeks.
My mother took a halting step toward Zira and it was all the others could do to get her to leave quietly. Once my mother and the others had gone, Zira turned to me.
"So," she whispered as I cowered before her with large eyes.
I remember pressing my back hard against the wall, so hard that I thought I might sink into it and forever disappear . . .
"You thought you were going to be future queen, did you? Well, I'm the only queen and MY children will reign here long after you are dead --"
I gulped and fresh tears coursed down my face and I thought as I cowered with a little scream against the wall that this was it: Zira would murder me in my mother's absence. But a voice rang out, sharp and hoarse, and Zira froze mid-swipe, her back going rigid.
Scar stalked soundlessly from the shadows, his bright green eyes appearing first. His face was solemn and expressionless but his eyes were commanding as he said firmly to Zira, "I forbid you to lay a paw on that child."
To no one's surprise, Zira lowered her claw and smiled wickedly. "How about a claw?" she said, moving toward Scar. "A tooth? Several teeth?"
I watched with silent loathing as Zira rubbed her ears against his chin. Scar gave away to a reluctant smile.
"You won't touch her, my queen," Scar said with the same amused smile.
Zira stared at him in confusion. "But – but why? She should have died with Simba in the elephant graveyard! Why shouldn't she die now --?"
"Silence!" Scar growled and he was suddenly menacing.
Zira took an uncertain step back, her ears down.
"Certain . . . circumstances . . . have changed since then," Scar said simply. "It would have been a mistake to kill her, knowing what I know now."
Zira's mouth sagged open in confusion but Scar said sharply, "You are dismissed."
Zira departed, but not without sparing me a dark and threatening glance. I still cowered against the wall, watching Scar's solemnity with a dark and hardened expression. After a long moment of silence during which we merely stared (me glowering and him solemn) his face suddenly washed over with amusement: my hard expression delighted him.
"Very good," he whispered to himself. "She has a will to live. She will survive. Very good."
His mad mutterings confused and frightened me all the more, but I remained cowering against the wall, my face twisted in anger.
Then he leaned close to me and whispered, "If you tell a soul what was here spoken, I'll have another – accident – occur. Understand?"
I said nothing and merely glowered all the harder.
He chuckled at me and turned smoothly from the cave.