Mufasa's Queen

As the waxing crescent moon sank behind filigreed cloud, Scar's guttural murmurs woke Sarabi. Scar shuddered and twitched then lay still. Sarabi tried to focus, but the flickering, thin moonlight scrambled the shadows, confusing every shape and twisting every outline. Then, with a stiffening of his whole body, Scar's pained moaning began again, rising slowly into an unnatural, unnerving, and inimitable agonised howling. Sarabi lay still, pinning herself tightly to the ground as all around her, the gorge seemed to give up all who had died there; shifting spirits rose up, tangled and torn, all screaming In torment.

The howling filled and shattered Sarabi, her terrified body resonating and quaking. She felt Mufasa's spirit rip through her. It could only be him, he warmed her and calmed her and made her feel like a mother again. Then the sound subsided. Scar quivered and his hind legs thrashed. While no ordinary lion would ever have willingly made such un-leonine sounds at least it meant one thing: Scar was still alive. Determined to not let him succumb to the spirits, Sarabi pressed herself to him, giving him her bodily warmth, willing him back from whatever hell he had entered to be judged for his crimes. He too was warm, and as his cries subsided, he seemed to press back, belly on Sarabi's spine and hindquarters, calling silently to Sarabi's mother-instincts. She responded, gently licking his foreleg on which she rested her head. Soon Scar was still once more. Sarabi closed her eyes, letting her ears fall, refusing any memories that might disturb her further. She slipped back into uneasy sleep.

It was light; it was well into morning. When grains of dry earth flicked on to her flank, Sarabi woke. Determined growls and an angry roar rolled down from the grassy plateau above. Looking up to where they had come, Sarabi saw that yet more of the high bluffs had fallen. A light scatter of fresh earth-fall all around and on her and Scar's sides showed it was falling still. Looking about, the route down seemed to still be open. Indeed Sarabi was sure she could make out movement amongst the higher rock stacks.

Sarabi rose carefully, easing herself away from Scar. She shook, stretched and turned to look out over the gorge. The clouds were gone; the sun already beat down mercilessly on the far side, though as yet the gorge floor was still in shadow. She looked back. Scar lay as still as before, though Sarabi felt sure he looked more at ease, as if merely sleeping. She knew he had moved in the night, but she was sure no one would believe her.

Sarabi turned her ears sharply as she thought she caught someone high above calling her name. She strained to listen, but heard nothing. Then it came again: "Sarabi! Scar! Raf-" She couldn't locate the call: the gorge walls echoed and distorted all sounds, magnifying one moment then pulling back and stifling the next.

"Sarabi!"

Sarabi roared back. Then gulping in air, called more softly, "Sarafina?" She realised she was wrong as she recognised the distinctive sinuous curves of Nala's back at the run.

"No, it's me, Nala!" Soon Nala rushed into full sight and stopped abruptly on the ledge, breathless. "Sarabi- we've- we've got to get out of here! The hyenas- hyenas are getting really suspicious. They want to see Scar, dead or alive."

Sarabi looked to Scar, Nala followed her gaze. "He's still alive, but I don't think he's going anywhere for several days at least, maybe weeks."

"Weeks!" Nala stared incredulously. "Weeks? Sarabi, we haven't got weeks. We've got to get Scar back to Priderock and soon."

"You're right. Look up there. See? The bluffs are still crumbling. They could fall and crush us anytime. But I don't think…" Sarabi looked out across the gorge, smiling gently.

"What don't you think?"

"I don't think the gorge wants us dead. Not yet at least."

"What?"

Sarabi turned her head slowly to Nala. "I think it wants us to know the truth, and Scar knows that truth."

"Sarabi! It's the hyenas we have to worry about. They're all fired up about some strange, huge beast they heard in the night. Coming to kill us all they said. Scar has to save us, somehow…"

"No, it's the earth-falls that are the greatest danger. The hyenas and their 'mystery beast' can wait."

"We can't! Look, we'll just have to leave Scar if he can't get out. We can let the hyenas come down here and get themselves killed if they must, but we've got to go."

"Listen Nala. Scar's not dead, and I'm not giving up on him. I'm not letting him die. Never give up on those you love while there's hope. Do you hear me?"

Nala dropped her head. "Yes Sarabi."

"You have hope for Simba still don't you?"

"Eh? Well, I… I… well, yes, of course."

"You see? Now, where is Rafiki?"

"Rafiki? He's on his way. He… he wanted to avoid the hyenas so he's coming up from the gorge floor. Sarafina is coming down too; she's just given Shenzi and Banzai a few things to remember. She stayed back to make sure they've gone."

Hyenas above, the gorge floor below; Sarabi and Nala were stuck between with Scar. The ledge was feeling crowded now that Rafiki had joined them and Sarafina was making her way down from the plateau.

Rafiki examined Scar, listening, feeling, peering, and poking and prodding with his stick, shaking its gourds mysteriously over him. The lionesses looked on in hopeful silence. At length Rafiki pronounced his prognosis while continuing his examination. "He's not badly hurt – no broken bones – a few cuts and bruises."

Sarafina jumped in ahead of Sarabi. "Rafiki, we know that. So why is he still asleep?"

"Ah, but is he asleep? Tell me that."

"Of course he-"

"No, no. How many times you've slept for days eh? Not many. Not ever. He's not asleep."

"So what is he?"

"He's… elsewhere. He'll be fine when he gets back."

"When?"

Nala amplified her mother's question: "Yes Rafiki, when? Just when will he 'get back'?"

"When he's done what he need to do. Days maybe; weeks probably."

Sarabi broke her silence to press Rafiki gravely, "Rafiki, he hasn't got days, let alone weeks. We have to get him out of here today. We can't carry or drag him out, he's too heavy. He has to walk out. You've got to be able to do something, surely?"

Rafiki sat back and pondered, stroking his chin. "There is one thing, maybe. It'd maybe get him walking but it could just as easily kill him. But if we knew more…" He pointed down to the now dried but deeply blood stained sand on which Scar's head lay. "That blood has a story to tell, but it's not talking to Rafiki."

I don't know. If it's not Scar, then it's not the blood; it's the gorge, that's what can tell the story. It knows these secrets: all that's locked inside Scar. It knows why it took Mufasa. It knows whether any cub of mine will ever live to have cubs of their own: it knows where Simba went. I want just one of my cubs to outlive me. Is that so bad? Why else would I be blessed with Mufasa? So many lionesses have to mate to fulfil their duty, yet I was blessed indeed to be given Mufasa. I would have gladly given him all the cubs he had ever wanted, and still wanted more. Why take such beauty from us? Why take him, gorge? Why not take Scar? He had no cub to leave behind; no lioness to grieve for him, no pride looking to him to lead. No one hated him then; he was just Scar. Who would have cared if he had died there on your dusted floor? But now… now who but his hyenas would mourn if you took him from us? So why is he still alive? What right do you have to hold him here on your dust? Is there some dark purpose still for him in this land?

"Sarabi? … Sarabi!"

"What…. What is it now Sarafina?"

"What do you want to do?"

"What?"

"Rafiki? Should he do it?"

"Do it."

Rafiki stepped closer to Sarabi, speaking to her quietly. "Are you sure? It could kill him."

"Yes, I know. When did he ever care who he hurt? Just do it."

"Very well. I just, err, happen to have some here, err, that I have already prepared."

"Give it to him."

"Well Sarabi. I would, but it's not simple. It's best if we get him to eat it."

"Look at him. Can't you see that's not going to happen?"

"Yes, yes. Ah, well, in that case we have to get it into his blood."

"His blood?"

"Yes, very important: direct into his blood." The lionesses all looked at Rafiki in anticipation. "But he hasn't any fresh, open wounds. Can't put it in, see?"

"So what do we do?"

"You have to open a wound."

"Me? Me injure him? You're meant to make him better, Rafiki, not cut him about even more! There's been too much of our pride's blood shed already in this gorge, and you want to give it more?"

"It's the only way he's going to walk out of here Sarabi. Do you really want him to die here, because you refused to cut him?"

Sarabi pushed her rising feelings into her tensing shoulders. "I'm not going to do it. Do you hear gorge. I'm not going to hurt him. I'm going to save him!"

Sarafina pushed forward. "I'll do it."

"NO SAFFI!" Sarabi flicked out her paw, claws extended. She pulled her strike so close to Sarafina's cheek that both could feel the heat of the other.

"You're prepared to hurt me, but not do this to save Scar? Stand aside Sarabi, you're not the lioness I remember."

Sarabi took two deep and lightly held breaths, and then lowered her paw, withdrawing her claws slowly. She stepped back, clearing the path to Scar. Turning away to look out over the gorge, she shuddered as she felt Sarafina's blow land. There was no cry of pain, no growl of exhilaration, no thud of a body brought down; just the cold rending of skin and warm flesh by a well-tended, practised claw. A gourd cracked. Sarabi heard Rafiki fussing for several moments. Then she felt his arm over her shoulder.

"Sarabi, you're strong; not even Scar's broken you yet. Beware, there's passion deep in you too, like your father-"

"You knew my father?"

"Never met him, but I heard of him: headstrong, stubborn, cussed even; very short-tempered but fair and just; and he had a look that could melt a lioness at twenty lengths."

Sarabi stared out. At length she quietly said, "How long will it take?"

"Don't know; never given it to a fully grown lion. You don't know what he weighs, do you?"

"Weighs? No, of course not. Does it matter?"

"Don't give him enough he'll… he'll just have some wild, wild dreams. Not quite enough and he'll not be able to walk. Too much and he'll never walk again, or dead. At least he'll go happy. What he weighs is what makes 'just enough' into 'too much'".

"Didn't you check?"

"Check? Just how am I going to do that eh? I'm not allowed within five hundred lengths of him! It's the law: just ask Zazu. Have you lifted him up?" Rafiki lifted his head over Sarabi's back and looked over to the other two lionesses "No, and you Sarafina? No, I didn't think so. I had to… estimate. What else could Rafiki do eh?"

Sarabi sighed. "So, what happens now?"

"Can't be sure. Rafiki won't be here, for sure: can't take that risk. I want to live." The lioness stood by silently. "He'll wake in a few hours. He won't really wake. He'll still be in a sort of dream. He'll do whatever he does in that dream. You'll be anything but Sarabi to him. You have to be in his dream too, guiding him, leading him home."

Sarafina moved closer. "Rafiki, what will I be?"

"Only he'll know. His mother, a six-headed wildebeest, a fire-demon, a talking pink slug called Quentin, Mufasa even but not you."

"How do you know?" Sarabi asked. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yes." Rafiki paused. "I had tasted some of this once. Spent the next day talking about flying with Mufasa."

"I… I don't remember that."

"No, you wouldn't. He'd been dead three moons. I think I've got the dose just about right now. I still see Mufasa… Got to go; can't be here when he wakes."

Sarabi alone felt Rafiki's gentle squeeze of her shoulders. Then, despite the heat of the day building all around, she felt chilled as he lifted his arm away. "Thank you Rafiki, for everything you've done for Scar."

"No, Sarabi. I did it for you."

Rafiki scuffled away back down toward the gorge floor. As soon as he was out of earshot, Sarafina padded over to Sarabi and sat by her side. "Sarabi, you do remember that we have to put down mad lions, don't you?"

"Yes. I think we can keep Scar away from anyone if he starts to rant."

"The law, Ahadi's law, applies to lionesses too."

"If you're going to just be negative then you'd better find something else to do." I'm the queen, and I can do what I want… no, only if it's the right thing to do. "I am aware of that. Until Scar's back on his paws we have to keep things in order. You can see that, can't you?"

"Yes Sarabi, but you're not the King of the Pridelands."

"I am queen."

"A queen, but not Scar's queen. I could have been, and so, the stars shine down upon her, could Nala there."

"I am still Mufasa's queen."

"Yeah, like I said, that law applies to lionesses too."

"Go follow Rafiki. He knows the way down in the gorge and back home."

"No Sarabi. I'm not your servant; I'm your friend if you remember. You go yourself."

"Please Sarafina, I can't go. I can't leave Scar."

"You heard Rafiki. He won't wake for a few hours at least; plenty of time for you to scout the route. You've been here for how long? Too long! Go on, take a break and get away from here for a while."

"You've got to scout Sarafina."

"Why? Why do you have to stay here with Scar? Why?"

"Look you two," Nala interrupted. The two lionesses turned and looked to her. They had all but forgotten she was there. "I'll stay with Scar"

"No, Nala. I must stay."

"Sarabi, you said we're all in this. Mother's right: you need a break, you scout. Mother can go back to the pride and I'll stay and look after Scar."

The two elder lionesses turned to each other and agreed wordlessly. Sarafina looked sternly at her daughter. "Are you sure? What if he tries anything?"

"What can happen? You heard Rafiki; if he's going to wake it won't be for several hours. Now go on both of you! I'll be fine."

"Are you sure Nala?" asked Sarafina.

"Of course mother. Now let me be." Sarafina tightened her forehead. Sarabi had seen this before. Nala had made up her mind. That was the end of the matter.

As Sarabi watched Rafiki, noting his path to the distant gorge floor, Sarafina looked on. Something had changed between the two, accentuated by Sarabi's silence. Soon Sarafina set off alone back up the gorge to the plateau.

Still resolutely looking out over the gorge, Sarabi calmly called to Nala, "Do you remember Simba?"

"Of course I do. How could I forget that little furball?"

"That 'little furball' is my son."

"Yes, of course. I meant-"

"I know what you meant. You're right. There wasn't much to him then was there? But you two got on, didn't you?"

"Sure… we were friends. It wasn't as if we were really going to be married or anything… were we? We were way too young."

"No, not if you two didn't want to. It was always your choice, both of you." Sarabi finally dropped her head, turning to look into Nala's eyes, softening her tone. "You're not too young now."

"I'm not, but Simba… he's still that young isn't he? He'll always be young."

"I don't know Nala. Yes I do. I know he's alive somewhere. He has to be."

"What would he be like now? All grown up I mean?"

"A lot like his father, and a bit like me too I shouldn't wonder."

"I don't…. I don't remember his father."

"I do… I often wish I didn't: that I could forget and move on, but Mufasa's always with me; always in me, living here in me. He might live in Simba too."

Sarabi stepped over to Scar. The wound, oozing green-brown over more than a paw's width on his upper inner thigh, was where a lioness would first open up any carcass. Clearly, Sarafina had been coolly efficient. Sarabi bent down to lick at the ooze but stopped short, remembering Rafiki's warning of its potency. It smelled surprisingly sweet, with a mild tang of spice; not at all as unpleasant as it looked.

Now all they could do was prepare to leave the gorge, to scout… and wait.