Chapter 6
Nala Speaks . . .
I marched down from Pride Rock, the blood rushing in my veins, furious that such a thing could have happened to me. And then I heard his voice in the distance, stifled behind his bloody nose: "Get her!" Scar screamed after me. "Don't let her escape! Bring her back to me!"
I looked back. Scar was standing on the peak of Pride Rock, his mane blowing in the wind, his mad eyes alight. Meanwhile, it appeared a massive black cloud was rushing down from the den like so many ants from an anthill: the hyenas were racing after me, smiling wickedly, cackling loudly.
I burst into a run. It was over. There was no turning back. But how could I abandon my mother and the others? No, there had to be a better way.
Contrary to popular belief, lions can and often do climb trees. I ran some distance across the Pride Lands, never once looking back, and scrambled up a large, round tree. The tree was very smooth and near impossible to climb, but to a desperate lioness, my climb was laughably easy and short. In no time, I was perched in the large, round tree with the hyenas cackling angrily below. I was only glad none of Zira's tagalong lionesses had followed me, for they would have climbed the tree and my little adventure would have come to an end.
"You can't stay up there forever!" called a hyena in the led, a female with a flop of black hair tumbling in her eyes.
"And when you come down," added a male at her side, "we'll eat you!"
The female elbowed him, "Scar said to bring her back alive, Bonzai!"
"But I'm hungry!" whined the other.
"I hope you're thirsty as well . . ." I lifted my leg and my sudden spray sent several of the hyenas scattering back to Pride Rock.
The one called Bonzai was actually hit in the eye, for he'd placed his forelegs against the tree and was scowling up at me. The female grabbed him as he turned to retreat with the others and as they grumbled and argued, the other remaining hyenas joined in.
"Look!" called the female after arguing in low tones with her followers, "If you come down and come with us quietly, we'll let that whole incident just now slip!"
I opened my mouth to shout back that, no, I'd die before I willingly obeyed Scar's orders, but a sudden shriek made us all jump. I was startled so terribly, I nearly fell out of the tree. I managed to barely hold on by my nails and the hyenas below shrieked in surprise, turned, and fled, bumping into each other as spear after spear came hurtling down at them.
I looked around to see an old mandrill with a large mane of white hair shrieking happily at the top of his lungs as he hurled sharp stick after sharp stick on the hyenas below. He seemed to have a great quantity of them for just such an occasion, for he carried the sharp sticks in a large, hollow piece of fruit.
"And don' come back if yeh know what's for you!" the mandrill called after the scrambling hyenas. He gave another high-pitched shriek of delight and shook his mane with such a wild smile that I laughed outright.
"Your highness," said the mandrill, turning to me with a low bow, "you don' remember me, but I remember you. Come." And with that, he turned and entered the forest of close branches that made up the tree.
I inched along the tree branch but halted, unsure how I was to fit my massive self between the branches. But the mandrill appeared again and beckoned me (come on, child! Come on!) , so I squeezed myself through.
It was amazing, the little home this strange creature had made for himself in the center of the tree. At the tree's core was a wide, flat space filled with little fruits and odds and ends. On the thick branches were small paintings of what I perceived to be lion cubs. The freshest painting was dashed out, smeared with red dust.
However wide the tiny space was for the mandrill, I just barely fit in. In fact, only my front half actually fit within the branches of the tree. My butt was hanging out to the cold air. Seeing my difficulty, the mandrill turned to me and laughed.
"Oh, your highness," he said, coming toward me. He leaned down, and to my surprise, was able to pull me inside the tiny space. Thus we sat on top of each other, crowded beneath the canopy of gently rustling leaves.
The mandrill studied my face a moment and made a sad tisking sound. "You've had an injury, your highness. Here . . . I can help . . ." So saying, he turned away and began to rummage through the many objects crowding us.
"But . . . who are you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "And why do you keep calling me 'your highness'?"
"Because," said the mandrill, turning back to me with a half a bit of dried fruit in hand, "you are the true queen, not that Zira creature. Bah! Calling yourself queen and living like a queen are two very different' tings." He dipped his thumb in the purple paste inside the bit of fruit and began smearing it across my injured face.
I felt the nagging, pricking pain all over my head and in my jaw cease and go numb at once.
"Thank you," I said. "But you still haven't told me who you are."
"I am a good friend of Mufasa's," he said simply, and catching some of the dripping paste off my chin, he ate it with relish.
"You – you mean you WERE a good friend of Mufasa's," I said uncertainly.
"No. I am! I AM a good friend of the king's --"
But the mandrill broke off, for the sound of furious voice reached our ears. My ears went up. There were several shouting voices, but my mother's was loudest of all. I hurried to thrust my head from the tree branches and the sight I saw below filled me with horror:
Zira had attacked my mother from behind with a sudden violent leap and the others were prying her off.
"It's not true!" Zira was wailing. "She's not his daughter! You weren't his lover! I'll kill you! I'll kill you all!"
But Zira looked far from killing anyone. The lionesses crowded around my mother like a protective barrier and moved slowly toward Zira as if her fate were sealed. Zira backed away, her ears down, her lips snarling, then turned tail and ran for Pride Rock.
"Gone off to tattle on us, no doubt," said Kali darkly, "the wench."
"Mother!" I screamed. I leapt down from the tree to many gasps of "Nala!" and the lionesses parted to allow my access to my mother. Sarabi was at her side, tending to her with a mixture of tender sadness and anger in her eyes.
I'll never forget how pitiful, how weak and torn my mother looked. Her back was ripped to bloody ribbons. She would never, perhaps, be able to hunt again. She looked up at me anxiously and managed dryly, "Nala! . . . what . . . are you . . Why aren't you . . . at . . . Pride Rock?"
"Hush, don't speak," Sarabi begged, who seemed unable to bear the sound of my mother's gasping, struggling voice. "You should rest here a while. You've already lost so much blood . . ." Her voice shook slightly on the last word.
"No! I . . . can try . . . take me back . . . take me home . . ." my mother whispered.
We all helped her to her paws and started home, moving around my mother like mothers guiding their new born cub as it was learning to walk.
When we'd walked a good distance, Sarabi pulled me aside and asked in a low whisper, "Why did you leave Pride Rock?" Her brows rushed together anxiously and her face danced over mine in concern. I was touched by how much she cared for me. I could've been her cub.
"Scar," I whispered darkly. I needn't say more: Sarabi seemed to understand. The queen's face darkened and she moved ahead of the others, as if she longed to sink her claws into Scar and could walk patiently at my mother's side no longer.
When we finally reached Pride Rock, the hyenas stood waiting in black rows either side the path leading to the stone stair. They glowered and growled at us as we passed, but none attacked. Higher up sat Zira's followers, glowering just as darkly, and lastly, Scar and Zira stood side by side on the ledge of Pride Rock.
No one moved to stop us as we helped my mother inside the den. I thought I saw Scar's eyes follow her bloody back anxiously but when he noticed I watched him, he merely looked away. We helped my mother to lie down, but it seemed as soon as her body touched the ground . . . her spirit gave away . . . and she was gone forever.
Sarabi hung her head and a tear leaked from her eye.
"She wanted to die here," choked Kali, "that's why she insisted on walking back . . ."
A tiny, dry sob escaped me. Sarabi and the others moved to my sides, nuzzling me and sobbing with me and the cave was filled with the sounds of broken hearts crying out for something – anything – to ease the pain. It didn't sink in that she was really gone until
Scar came bursting in. We all looked up, tear-stained faces, angry, indignant eyes. Scar merely brushed past us to my mother's still body. We watched his back anxiously. For several long seconds, there was silence in the cave, a silence so loud it hurt. Then Scar flung his head back and let loose a terrible, agonized howl.
Our mouths sagged open in confusion as Scar suddenly collapsed at my mother's side, nuzzled his nose into her neck, and began to cry loudly and wretchedly.
"It can't be true!" said a voice from the cave entrance. Zira stood behind us all, shock and disgust plain upon her face. "You can't have loved her! She can't be your child!"
I remember it felt like my heart stopped and my eyes snapped to Scar, who was now glowering at Zira through tear-filled, green eyes.
"What does she mean by that?" I demanded, watching Scar's fury build.
"I mean this, little brat," said Zira, stepping close to me, "your mother claimed you were Scar's daughter and that they once had a secret romance!"
I stood stunned.
Scar leapt at Zira and fairly chased her from the den, screaming all the while at the top of his lungs: "Get out! Get out of my Pride Lands – and take your retarded son with you!" He jerked Nuka suddenly from the shadows and Nuka fled down the stone stair, terrified.
Zira, however, stood her ground. Her followers came to join her.
"But I love you!" she said, but for the tone of her voice she might as well have said, "but I hate you!"
Scar's teeth flashed, "If you loved me, you would never have laid a paw on her --" He stabbed a claw toward the cave and toward my mother's lifeless body, tears welling in his eyes.
"And if you loved ME," Zira shot back, her bright eyes wide, "you would never have tried to make your own DAUGHTER your queen!"
There was a collective gasp and the lionesses standing around Sarabi and I began to growl.
"You disgust me!" said Kali, taking a threatening step toward Scar.
But the hyenas moved in like body guards around their king, and no one could lay a paw on him.
"She – she looked so much like – like my Sara when we were young . . . I . . . I got confused . . ."
"Ha!" shouted Zira. "Who will you mistake for Sarafina next, Nuka?"
"Get out!" Scar growled again, taking a halting step toward Zira. "Get out and don't come back!"
With that, the hyenas lunged and chased Zira, Nuka, and her followers clear from the Pride Lands.