Chapter 9: As the Plot Thickens

Mohatu squirmed impatiently in the gorge of the Wastelands, awaiting Kito's appearance. As the day progressed, and the sun was high above the scorched lands, the gorge would without a doubt be the hottest area in the Wastelands. But Mohatu had awoken early and snuck off before the stars had vanished, so it was still moderately cool.

Squinting, Mohatu looked to the top of the gorge and saw the sun beginning to peek over the edge of the rock. He gave an impatient sigh. Where in the name of all things is the little rodent? he thought angrily.

"Here I am!"

As if cued, Kito popped up out of the ground at Mohatu's feet, smiling. Mohatu gave him a look. "Where have you been, Kito?" he demanded. "I've been waiting here forever for you!"

Kito sighed and crawled out of his hole. "I know, I know, Boss, and I give you my sincerest apologies," he started, "but digging through rock hard dirt such as this is no small task." He leaned over and knocked on the ground with his fist. Mohatu sighed, knowing he was right. He had thought it was difficult to travel to the Wastelands by foot, but Kito had to dig every inch of the way to keep the starving lionesses off his trail.

"I'm sorry, Kito," apologized Mohatu with a deep sigh, "it's just that I've been through a lot since I've arrived here." Getting attacked, thrown over a cliff, tumbling down rocks, being rescued, climbing a steep ledge, falling from the ledge and getting hit over the head with the walking staff of a mandrill was certainly enough to trample on someone's spirits.

Kito frowned at the depressed tone of Mohatu's voice. "Care to tell?"

Mohatu groaned, shut his eyes and shook his head. "No," he replied, "you'd be here forever, believe me."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Kito shrugged, deciding not to pry at the pained lion anymore. "So, what news should I bring to King Mtundu? Good, I hope."

Mohatu nodded to him. "Tell my brother that everything is going as planned, save for a few thorns on the trail. The pride trusts me...well, for the most part anyway." He decided to leave out the details of his mishappenings with Nyamavu and looked off into the distance. "I found the shaman. I just need to see if he's...able...to carry out the task at paw."

"Supermative," Kito replied, saluting him. "See you in two days? Same time, same place?"

"You got it."

Kito bowed respectfully, then disappeared into his hole as quickly as he had appeared. Silently, Mohatu bade him a safe journey home.

It was almost noon as Mohatu treaded across the dusty land back to the cavern. Several thoughts lurked in his mind. Did Nyamavu pose a threat to him and his plan? And what about the king, who allegedly ruled here? Would the young and defiant Rafiki be able to help him carry out what needed to be done? And to top it all off, he was hungry.

He came upon a puddle of murky water, which had at one time been the watering hole. Leaning over, he scooped some of the water into his mouth with his tongue. The water slithered down his throat, and he gagged at the rancid taste and texture. At that moment, a huge wave of homesickness came upon him. He longed for the soft and pure taste of the Misty Lands water, the copper-rich taste of healty, fatty meat, the company of familiar lionesses, but most of all, Mzungu. Mtundu had sent him here as a king, a warrior, to carry out an important mission. He had tried to step up to the challenge and be as strong as possible, but now he felt as if the task had become too great for him. He needed Mzungu's support. When Mohatu had been a cub, Mzungu had coached him on, and given him all the friendship and support that kept him alive and sane. She was his security blanket. She had stood up for him against the biggest and baddest problem he faced as a cub--his own brother, Mtundu. As a cub, he felt that she was strong enough and brave enough to protect him and keep him safe, and those feelings only deepened as he grew. But now, he was an adult lion, and a king. He was expected to be strong and robust. To always know the answers. He sighed. No wonder Mtundu acted the way he did around his subjects--he felt that it was his duty. Be strong for the kingdom.

But Mohatu didn't feel strong now. The full impact of the situation fell on him like a ton of boulders. He was a lion--a king disguised as a rogue'--infiltrating and carrying out a secret plan on foreign land, dodging the suspicious eyes of strange lionesses. Nyamavu had been right. He was across enemy lines now. Mohatu didn't feel strong. He felt like the meek, vulnerable cub he had been years ago. A tear of anguish slid down his cheek and dripped into the murky puddle.

"What'cha doin'?" a voice inquired.

Mohatu sighed, but didn't look up. "Nothing."

As he stared into the puddle, he saw Rafiki's reflection appear behind his. Rafiki scanned Mohatu, reading his emotions. Mohatu didn't bother hiding them. He was too depressed to try. "Something wrong?" asked Rafiki.

Mohatu shook his head, causing more tears to fly off his face and drip into the water. Rafiki watched as several more tears made their way from Mohatu's teal eyes to the mucky water. "Listen, Rafiki," Mohatu started, still not looking at him, "I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. It was wrong for me to assume what your abilities are." Rafiki nodded, and stared at Mohatu intently. Mohatu took a deep breath and continued. "It's just that...you're a teen. And this is a great task for you to undertake at your age, and is only a small part of part of what I'm trying to undertake." Mohatu paused for a moment. Rafiki scooted closer, silently telling Mohatu continue. Mohatu then met Rafiki's eyes. "I'm an adult...and I'm beginning to question my abilities to take this on."

Rafiki placed a hand under Mohatu's chin and looked him square in the eyes. "Age is only a number," said Rafiki, "and whether you're a cub, teen, adult...it's just a perceived and accepted form of being. The stage of your life has no correlation to your limits. But do you know what does?"

Mohatu just shook his head. Rafiki placed his other hand on his chest. "Your heart."

Awed by Rafiki's wisdom, Mohatu gave him a great smile. At first glance, Rafiki didn't look like more than a young and cocky adolescent, but Rafiki's words shed a whole new light on him. If a teenaged mandrill possessed such wisdom, he must certainly have enough wisdom to know his limits. And the other day, Rafiki had expressed his firm belief that he could manipulate the weather. "You're right," replied Mohatu. "You know your limitations, and I'm beginning to realize mine. Together, we will accomplish great things." The two embraced. Mohatu then pulled back and looked Rafiki in the eyes. "It is time."

A toothy grin came upon Rafiki's face, realizing what Mohatu meant. He dashed off, eager to request Hekima's guidance as he carried out the ceremony for weather manipulation. "You won't regret this, Mohatu!" he called over his shoulder. "I promise!"

"What do you mean you can't help me?!" exclaimed Rafiki.

Hekima sighed. "Rafiki, I told you already, I'm too old to do weather manipulation. What makes you think I can conjure rain to this waste land?"

Rafiki let out an enormous, angry sigh and buried his head in his hands. Hekima shook his head and placed a hand on his apprentice's shoulder. "You wanted to prove to Mohatu that you can do this," he reminded calmly, "so you have to live up to what you said. You promised him."

Rafiki looked up at him. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, in a sad tone. "I figured you could at least help me with this. But now...I....I..."

"Let me tell you something," Hekima said, taking a seat next to the exasperated Rafiki. "Mother Nature is very picky. She likes to do as she pleases. That's why weather manipulation is so difficult for a shaman of my age. It takes a lot of ambition on the part of a shaman to find a good reason for Mother Nature to assist, and come up with the right words to ask her. I'm old, and quite frankly don't have that kind of ambition." Rafiki let out another sigh, this time, one of condolescence. Hekima continued. "I know you can do this. Just remember what I taught you."

Rafiki gave Hekima a pleading gaze. "Can't you just talk me throught it? Or at least help me get started?" he begged.

Hekima thought a moment. Rafiki was young, and didn't fully understand the ways of nature. Hekima had the experience and reasoning, and Rafiki had the ambition to carry out any ceremonies that would need to be done. It was a good idea. He nodded. "Of course." A smile formed on Rafiki's face. "Now," started Hekima, "the lands around us--just outside the border of our lands--have been getting adequate amount of rainfall. They have lush lands, filled with game. Yet we have no game, no water, no rain."

Rafiki nodded and stared at Hekima questioningly. "Why would Nature just single us out like that?"

"Tell me, Rafiki, how long has the drought plagued our lands?"

"Since the new king took power."

"And what is the king like?"

Rafiki thought a moment. Face thoughtful, Rafiki said, "Ruthless, cruel, unsympathetic, selfish..." He suddenly paused, and turned to Hekima. "Wait, what does this have to do with the drought?"

Hekima raised his eyebrows. He had walked Rafiki through most of this, so this part was up to Rafiki to figure out. And Hekima instilled a great amount of pride in how he had taught Rafiki, and knew he would come up with an answer. "Remember Rafiki...all is connected in the great Circle of Life."

A bit of a dawning look made its place on Rafiki's face. "Are you saying that the drought may be connected to the king?"

"He may have angered the gods with his ways," Hekima hinted.

Finally, it hit Rafiki. The only way to bring bounty back to the Wastelands was to overthrow the king! Then balance would be restored. But he knew that he couldn't overthrow the king. The lionesses all fostered too great a fear toward the king to overthrow him, especially with Nyamavu around to make sure they wouldn't form some kind of uprising. He knew that she watched her pride sisters like a hawk. Nyamavu was the king's window to the pride, thus making her as evil as he.

Both Nyamavu and the king would have to be disposed of. But who?

The sun had set, and the fiery orange sky changed to a deep blue. Mohatu sat alone on a dust dune, about a mile from the pridal rock. All day, he had saught some time alone. Since he returned to the rock after his meeting with Kito, the lionesses wouldn't leave him alone. Asking him questions, chattering to him about how the king was ruining the land, and suggesting that Mohatu should help them out. He didn't know what to tell them. Certainly, he couldn't agree. He was having a hard enough time just pulling off what Mtundu had requested of him. He had no interest in complicating things for himself, no matter how much he sympathized with those lionesses.

With a purr of exhaustion, he flopped onto the dune, sending a cloud of dust into the air. The thick dust swirled around him and entered his lungs. It stung. He coughed and choked in a vain attempt to force away the stinging particles from his lungs. The dust attacked his eyes. He gave a growl of discomfort and clenched them shut. They began to water, but he forced the tears away with his paw.

Through the cloud of dust, he saw an approaching visitor. "Mohatu?" a voice said softly. It was Bashasha. Even though he had desparately saught seclusion from the pride, it would be nice to be with someone who at least shared some of his pain.

"Hello, Bashasha," he muttered. He set his chin on his paws and gave a great sigh. The dust finally cleared, and Bashasha lowered herself down and layed next to him.

"What's the matter, Mohatu?" she asked. "You've seemed so distant lately."

"I've just got a lot on my mind," replied Mohatu quietly.

Bashasha gave him a sad look and leaned in a bit. "Like what?" she asked. Mohatu looked up at her. He silently debated whether or not he should share his pain with her. Then the burden of secrecy would be gone, at least. But no. He couldn't. She was friendly, but he was across enemy lines and it would be unwise to disclose the plan to anyone here. He would just have to bear the load alone. Shaking his head, he looked away.

"Nothing, nothing," he sighed.

"You miss home, don't you?" asked Bashasha.

Mohatu's eyes widened. No, she couldn't know, could she? He knew that Hekima knew quite a bit about him, but had he told Bashasha? "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to sound calm.

Moving herself closer to him, Bashasha said, "You know...it must be hard for you. Being a rogue and all, then forcing yourself into pridal life. Must be hard."

Hiding a sigh of relief, Mohatu looked away. She didn't know. Thank gods.

"Don't worry," continued Bashasha, "you still have me."

Mohatu nodded and smiled at her. "Yeah, I know," he replied, "if it weren't for you, I'd have never been able to--"

Bashasha startled him when she leaned in and nuzzled him. Mohatu's eyes grew wide in surprise, realizing what Bashasha's earlier statement had meant. But she couldn't like him! They had only just met a few days ago. She wasn't serious...was she?

Mohatu pulled away, and Bashasha gave him a puzzled look. "What's wrong, Mohatu?" she asked. Hurt and confusion filled her gentle eyes. "I was almost sure you felt the same way about me."

With the pressure of Bashasha's gaze on him, Mohatu turned away, shame crossing his face. He didn't know what to say. His heart already belonged to Mzungu, and he loved her more than the world itself. But at the same time, he liked Bashasha and was grateful for all she had done for him. She was a great friend, but he simply didn't feel anything romantic towards her. He was a big reluctant to say much of anything at this time, because he knew she'd be crushed if he told her that he didn't love her in that way.

Bashasha took a step toward him. "Mohatu..."

"No," Mohatu replied, meeting her eyes. Bashasha pulled back, a bit started. Mohatu sighed painfully. He knew that it would be hard to tell her, and that their relationship may be tarnished forever, but he had to tell her that his heart wasn't available to her. If he let this slide, she would keep making advances towards him, and what would Mzungu think if she found out? He cringed at the thought. He couldn't stand the idea of Mzungu leaving him because she thought he was being disloyal to her. "Bashasha, listen," he said gently, "I really appreciate all you've done for me. You saved my life. You led me to Hekima. You're the only one who really trusts me here. You're a great friend, Bashasha, but I--" He paused. He wasn't sure what to say. Perhaps he should tell her that he wasn't interested in romance. Or that he had once had a bad experience with love and didn't want to jeapordize his heart again.

No. He wasn't going to lie again. Lords only knew how much trouble his other lies had or will get him into. The best thing he could do at this point in time would be to tell her the truth for once. With a deep breath, he swallowed his fear and continued. "I already have a mate."

Bashasha's face dropped in dismay. She just stared at him for a moment, as if contemplating what she should do next. Mohatu watched her intently, awaiting a response. She sighed sadly, then looked to the ground. "You have a mate already," she repeated to herself. She looked him square in the eye. "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Well, you never asked," Mohatu replied.

With a flash of what looked like anger in her eyes, Bashasha advanced towards him. "First you're a rogue. Then you tell me that you came to find a shaman to make it rain and revive our lands. Now you tell me you have a mate." Mohatu gulped, and took a slow step backward. Bashasha continued. "What are you, some kind of jig-saw puzzle? Every other day I'm going to find a new piece of you until I finally have the truth? How many secrets do you have, anyways?"

Mohatu looked at the ground. He had actually been expecting this reaction. Either this, or tears. After a moment of thinking, he decided that this was better than if his revelation had made her cry. He deserved to be reprimanded. If he had only told her, as well as the rest of the pride, the truth about him at the beginning, maybe this would never have happened. Even after he had told the truth about why he had wished to visit the shaman and that he had a mate, there was still a lot they didn't know.

He was the king of the Misty Lands. He was sent here to revive the lands to prevent trespassers from ruining his own. "Too many to count," he muttered shamefully.

"I hope I'm not intruding..."

Looking up, Mohatu saw Utisho looking at him and Bashasha with a bit of a puzzled look. Bashasha looked at Utisho. "Of course not, Utisho," she replied in a friendly voice. "Mohatu and I were just talking."

Utisho looked to Mohatu tentatively, then back to Bashasha. "The king requests your presence back home. It's past cerfew."

Bashasha shuddered in distaste at mention of the king, once again leaving Mohatu to wonder why the lionesses despised him so. Utisho looked at Mohatu. "You can stay out if you want, seeing as how you're not an official pride member," she said.

Mohatu nodded. "I'll be there in a bit."

With a replying nod, Utisho turned around and headed for the pride rock. Bashasha followed her, after one last disproving look at Mohatu. Mohatu watched the two until they ascended the fortress of stone and disappeared.