Distant Clouds

Everything had been Mufasa's. Now it was Scar's, all of it: every parched blade of grass, every lifeless acacia tree, every dried up hollow, every paw-searing rock of every kopje. Everything the light touched, from the river to the forested Kalani Hills to the north-east, and especially the great rock formation, Pride Rock, at the heart; all of it was the pride's lands.

The Nonda, the river that wound around the kingdom's northern and western borders before flowing on south to other prides' lands, had, in places, been reduced to little more than a muddy stream. It had long since forgone the gorge it had cut into the expanse of savannah; flowing instead further north, except in times of flood, when for days and very occasionally weeks, the river crashed and spumed along its ancient course.

Now there was no sign of water along the gorge floor. No stream, no pools, no mud, only dust and sand, fit only for insects and lizards, and the screeching shadow sweeping raptors that took them.

There was one place the light couldn't touch; it lay in perpetual shadow well off to the north of Pride Rock. In part a fragmented side-canyon to the upper reaches of the gorge, and part mire of glooping sulphurous mud, studded by thermal vents. It was a charnel pit, and yet a home to some living. On the gorge floor beyond, small between towering walls, padded two lionesses, one's coat nearly blending into the sand and dust; the other was darker, her head up and tail held strongly, stood to the sides of a larger male. His night-black mane stood out clearly, hanging about his shoulders limply. His movements were faltering and languid; lacking any purpose or direction. It was only the lionesses that kept him moving up the narrowing gorge toward the grassed plain.

Scar leaned hard on to the sandy lioness's side. She held him, taking his weight on her shoulders. His lower jaw slumped to one side, his eyes flicked back and forth irregularly. Lunging to the right, his breath caught in his loose throat, then, twisting his neck, he swallowed noisily and inhaled once more. With every erratic step, Scar seemingly lurched closer to death.

"He's – he's -Sarabi, how much further?"

Sarabi closed onto Scar, dropping back so that she could get her head deep into his mane to lift his. He responded, as she had hoped, taking more of his own weight on his forepaws, and straightening his step. "Just hang on Nala." Sarabi looked out awkwardly. The gorge side was lower than where Scar had fallen.

Some way ahead, Sarabi's view partially obscured with Scar's unkempt mane, the gorge floor became rocky. The rocks tumbled into a series of ledges, with precipitous drops between, that the lionesses could climb, but which Scar clearly could not. On Sarabi's side, the going appeared easier, uneven and steep, but at least seemingly passable for Scar. Further ahead still, the slope looked to lessen, and change colour, with a slight tinge of green. "We've got to get him out of the gorge."

"Sarabi..."

"We can do it Nala. Just get him out, then we can all rest."

Sarabi felt a gentle jolt through Scar's shoulders and flank.

"Sarabi, over there!"

Sarabi rolled her head over to look to her side. An indistinct shape, dark against the late afternoon sun, moved on the skyline. "What?"

"Who are they?"

The shapes split; heads now recognisable on wide shoulders. "Hyenas."

"What do they want? Stinking scavengers. Never bother to hunt, all they do is hang about and watch us kill, fetch and carry; fetch, carry and kill."

The hyenas stood at the edge of the plateau, watching intently. "Probably wanting to see if their 'great leader' really is alive. Either that, or waiting to see if the vultures take us. Besides, both of us could do with a decent wash. I don't know about you, but this sand gets deep between my claws."

Then another shape appeared above, and another, and more and more as the lionesses guided Scar closer to the gorge side.

"There's so many. Is that… are we near that elephant's graveyard place?"

"Yes, those hyenas aren't far from home."

"I've not been there since… Do you remember when Simba and I got into all that trouble? Mufasa arrived just in time to rescue us. Mother hardly talked to me for three days."

"Mufasa wasn't going to talk to Zazu for ages either. I told him it was one of those things that just happen. It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't Zazu's. It wasn't really Simba's fault, though it was his idea apparently. No, it was my fault. I should never have let you two go."

"I barely recognise it. We're close. Sarabi, I'm…"

"Remember Ahadi's third rule of being royal: never let your subjects see you're afraid. Keep your head up, your back straight and don't let your tail drop." Sarabi closed her eyes. "They're only hyenas after all."

"I don't know if I can."

"Of course you can." Sarabi shoved Scar's lolling head up forcefully. He swallowed hard and shook his head and mane. "You didn't think you could look after Scar alone, did you? But you did. You didn't think we could get him here alive, but he is."

"But I'm not a queen like you. I'm just…"

"You, Nala, were born to be queen of the Pridelands, just as Simba was born to be king."

"But Simba's dead."

"You mustn't think like that. Simba… he may still be alive. What do you feel in your heart?"

"He's… I don't know."

"You've got to know. It's another rule of queens: you've always got to know, or have an opinion, even if it's wrong; either that, or know nothing." The lionesses passed into the shadow of the gorge wall; the hyenas, for the time being at least, were out of the lionesses' sight. "Watch it! Don't push Scar over so much."

In time, the shadows receded; but only in part due to the lowering sun. Instead the gorge walls dropped and the slope lessened. Scar's pace had slowed. His eyes were noticeably dimming and his breath shortened, but he was still moving.

"Do you think he hears us? Scar I mean, does he understand what we're saying?"

"I suppose he must hear, but I don't think he understands. He's in some other place right now, just as Rafiki said. He's not shown any sign of responding to anything we've said all day."

"Good. Sarabi, I – well, I, you know… I wanted to ask. Well, I mean do you still think about Mufasa?"

Sarabi, worried that Scar's wound might have opened and become painful, padded a third of a length along his flank. She looked to his mane. "Mufasa? I think about him every day. If I don't know what to do, I try to think what he'd do, and I ask him."

"You… you ask him? You mean you talk to him?"

"I see him in everything: in the clouds, in the herds and in the darkness. He's always there. I hear him in the grasses and on the breeze."

"Is he… I mean, is he here?"

"Yes, he's walking with us." Mufasa, you keep out of this. I know what I'm doing. We have to keep on. We can't stop. If we do Scar might never get up again. We have to get home. We have to get to Pride Rock. Tonight.

"Sarabi, please don't tell mother this, but… what I mean is, is Simba ever with him?"

Sarabi slowed.

Simba…

The inside of Scar's right hind leg was matted with his own dried blood. Clearly it had been bleeding, and considerably so, but the flow had stopped some time since. "N- no. Simba's not here, he's never here."

"Does that mean he's-"

"It means nothing Nala. It's just the idle wishes of a hungry fool, nothing more. Mufasa isn't here with us. He'll never be. It's nonsense; fit only for telling in tales to cubs. Simba was just a cub you know. Cubs die. Cubs can… can be replaced."

"Sarabi! You don't really believe that do you? I heard you talk about Mufasa. I didn't know it then, but I do now: I heard you talking to Mufasa. You may be hungry, and you may even have tasted Rafiki's concoction but you're not foolish. You really do see him, don't you?"

Sarabi sighed. "If I did, what difference would it make? So I see dead lions. So? I'm still a lioness. I still taught you and your mother to hunt, to support the pride. I bore the cub you might have been mated to. I can still carry and bring up cubs. You… you're the youngest in the pride, but it is I that still carries the pride. It's my responsibility to keep everyone safe, to keep everyone together. We can't survive without a male. That's why we're here, right now: we're giving our pride what it needs: an adult male lion."

"Sarabi! You're giving the pride Scar! Scar! I'll get him home but I'd rather die than lay for him. I can't stay with the pride for long under him. I just can't. I want a life. I want-"

"You can't have what you want Nala! I was wrong, you can't have Simba!"

"Yeah? But you can have Mufasa? He's still here, that's why you haven't mated again isn't it. HE'S STILL HERE!"

"Nala!"

"He's dead Sarabi. He died back there."

Sarabi wanted to stop, wanted to look back but her need to get home, to leave the gorge, was greater.

Nala went on, "Yes, go on, take a good long look. King Mufasa is dead. You're not, and there's no way most of us will breed with Scar. He kicked me out for refusing him, remember? So unless you do, the pride's dead too. But Scar's pretty much as good as dead already. Look at him. Is this sack of bones really the proud leader of a mighty pride? Is he really to be the father of your cubs? I want to do whatever I can to help the pride. But I just can't with Scar. I mean by the stars he's my own father!"

Sarabi knew she mustn't. She knew she had to be confident and assured. She knew… yet she couldn't. She looked down, looking anywhere else but at Nala. She knew she had failed.

The piercing yellow sun was beginning to set; layers of intensely beautiful reds, rich orange over the browned and blackened horizon. She so rarely watched the sunset. Yet in the last few days Sarabi had watched every moment, every one beside Scar.

"What- what is it Sarabi?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Nala, you know I've always treated you like the daughter I never had."

"I know, but I am not yours. I'm Scar's daughter… with mother."

"You'd better talk to her."

"About what? She's not my mother?"

"NO! No, of course she is."

"So… so… do you mean? No, surely?"

Sarabi looked on sorrowfully. She knew it wasn't for her to say what must be said.

"Scar's not my father? Really?"

"I can't say."

"But you know don't you? You do! So who is- No. No. NO! Mufasa's not my father… is he?"

"No, no. He wasn't. Look, you'd better talk to your mother. She's the one to tell you, not I."

Nala walked on silently, dragging her tail tip along the ground.

"Nala, I thought you knew… especially after what happened with Scar. Would it have made any difference?"

"I'd have hated him less, but there's still no way I'd have gone with him."

"So does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters! Of course it matters. When I needed my father he was never there. I mean Scar wasn't there. He was always scheming with the hyenas. Shenzi meant more to him than I ever did. Banzai too. Yeah, it matters. You can't count the number of times I've wanted to kill Scar. If he hadn't fallen off that cliff I'd have pushed him. The stampede might well have killed Mufasa, but I'm sure Scar killed Simba!"

Sarabi stopped. Scar slid on past her, veering away from Nala. "Nala… I… I-" Sarabi moved off, catching up in a few strides.

"Sarabi, oh Sarabi, I didn't mean to upset you. I just know I'll never see Simba again. After everything that's happened, it's just too much. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean all that stuff. If you see Mufasa I understand."

The next few hours as the sun set passed in resigned silence. The weak moonlight, scurried past by thickening clouds, gave the lionesses all they needed to be able to find their way, Scar slowing all the while. The air chilled and dampened. As the moon set a little before midnight, the lions were still some way from Pride Rock. They barely noticed the distant Kalani hills dancing under streaks of silent lightning.

With the rock no more than a few hundred lengths away, Scar, the effects of Rafiki's unguent fast wearing off, finally came to a stop. He stood still for some seconds, staring at the starlight-silvered western face of Pride Rock. Then slumped his head over and collapsed to the ground. Nothing either lioness could do roused him. It was as far as all three would get that day. The lionesses slumped down beside Scar in the open. Sarabi tried to keep watch, but sleep soon overtook her.

They had all come a long way: out of the gorge and almost to Pride Rock, but for each that journey meant very different things. For Sarabi it was an ending. While for Nala it was just beginning. Neither had any idea what it meant for Scar. One thing that Sarabi knew for certain was that Scar had taken every step of the journey with his claws sheathed.

Sarabi woke. The air was close with a chill that the combined body heat of the still sleeping Scar and Nala did little to lift. The sky to the north lit up: silently flashing several times, closer now but still distant enough for Sarabi to give it little further thought. The air smelled damp, full with earthy hints and a freshness she had not smelt for many months. Sarabi shook from her upper back through to her shoulders. The others did not stir. Dropping her head back on her forepaws, she leant into Scar, closed her eyes and tried to slip back into sleep.

"-'rabi!"

Sarabi watched Simba and Nala run off playfully up the hill away from the outcropped rocks. He'd be fine – Zazu would make sure of that.

"Zazu? What use is he, Sarabi? At the first sign of trouble he just goes flapping back to Mufasa."

True… but that may not be such a bad thing. I mean, why can't Mufasa take on a bit of responsibility for looking after his own son for a change? "Yes he does, doesn't he?"

Sarabi felt a welcoming head-butt. "Wake up Sarabi!"

"I'm not asleep; I'm just lying here enjoying the afternoon."

"Afternoon? Open your eyes: it's still dark!"

Sarabi tore her head away from Sarafina's and looked around. The sky was lighter, but in places shrouded and darkened, streaked by slanted drifting folds through which a distant flash barely managed to penetrate. Silence… Sarafina lifted herself to full height and looked up, her green -glinting eyes wide and trembling. The rumble eventually rolled through them, rising, falling and then rising again before dying.

"What is it Saffi?"

"Nothing. The storm'll pass us by. Those two will never know anything about it if they don't wake."

"What is it Saffi?"

"Where the heck have you been? And Nala too."

"She's fine. I could never have done it without her." Sarafina started, twitching her ears up as the distant sky flashed. "What is it Saffi?"

"Nothing. Everything's just fine."

"Then why are you out here, in the middle of the night?"

"I should ask you the same question. Anyway, I couldn't sleep. I was checking out Scar's old cave on Priderock when I saw you out here. Well, I thought it must be you two… and him. Why couldn't you get back home?"

"Scar: he couldn't go any further. It's close to a miracle he got this far. I must apologise to Rafiki. I may not have always thought that much of him in the past, but he certainly came through this time."

"You think this place runs itself do you? You chose a perfect time to go off and leave me in the lurch you know. Couldn't you have just left him for a while? Half a day?"

"What is it Saffi?"

"Come on."

Sarabi lifted her shoulders and chest off the ground stiffly. Sarafina was already moving off. "What about Scar?"

"What about him? You said it yourself: Nala can look after herself. Now come away. Leave him there."

Sarabi looked back to the still sleeping pair.

Yes, Nala can look after herself, and look after Scar too, likely as not. Anyway, he's not going to get up, and this storm'll pass us by, just as Sarafina says.

"What is it now? Come on Sarabi!"

The gorge couldn't get you, Scar, and you got this far, so no storm is likely to either. Maybe there's something good in that bag of bones you call your hide after all. Nala, you rest. You grew up today, not that you'll probably ever think of it that way. "Keep your tail on, Saffi. I'm coming!

Sarafina slipped silently into the shadow of Priderock. By day it was impressive, an unmistakable statement of the pride's strength and power. By night it was almost oppressive; heavy and forbidding. Sarabi didn't like it. It was big, cold, hard… dark. It was ceremonial; it was all show and no heart. It was male. It was for kings and princes, not for queens and commoners. She had lived there with Mufasa in the cave deep in its belly because he was the king, and brought up Simba there because he was the son of the king, but she had never liked it. She, like the other lionesses, preferred the lower, more practical kopjes and outcrops; warmed by the sun all day, not just in the morning as Priderock's promontory was.

"Saffi," Sarabi called into the shadow, "where are we going?"

"Priderock. Now keep quiet or they'll hear us."

Sarabi didn't feel it was worthwhile to ask anymore. She sighed as she opened her pace, breaking into an easy lope. She knew this terrain – the boulder-strewn plain west of Priderock – well enough to know that she would be likely to have to slow to turn almost as soon as she started to run.

The twists to clear each boulder soon made Sarabi aware of how little she had moved in the last few days. She ached and felt every lurch and rued every misplaced padfall. She did not even have the thought that she was going home to ease the growing pain: this was a necessary but somewhat unwelcome detour. She felt it had better be worthwhile.

Sarabi caught up with Sarafina low on the slope to the promontory, brushing her head along Sarafina's flank. Sarafina held her shoulders tense and her ears ahead. She twitched her tail stiffly.

"What's-"

Sarafina silenced Sarabi with a sharp flick of her tail. Sarabi felt Sarafina's heart beat plainly through the lionesses deeply heaving ribs. It wasn't exertion that heightened her breathing, pumped her heart and pricked her ears; something was frightening her, something that was ahead on Priderock, and Sarafina was certainly no easily disturbed lioness.

Sarabi paused, opened her mouth, drawing back her upper lip to better scent the full air. The scent was not of Scar – Priderock was his home – nor even of lion. There was a hint of some bird; Zazu no doubt; but overlaying everything was hyena. A mixture of individual scents, individuals she knew well. She ran to the cave mouth and looked in.

A sleepy female voice drifted out of the cave, "Hey is that the Saffster? 'Bout time you got back. We're wasting away here. What'ya got? Something big and juicy?"

Sarabi now knew why Sarafina had been so agitated. "No Shenzi. It's the 'Rabimeister, and she ain't got you nuffin but a whole heap of trouble."

"'Rabimeis… Oh. Oh yeah, we ain't going to fall for that one are we Banzai?" Shenzi elbowed the sleeping form next to her. He didn't move. "Banzai?" She elbowed him again, much harder.

"Wha?"

"Get up! Sarafina here is trying to tell us how she struck out yet again. I mean, I knew lionesses weren't all they cracked themselves up to be, but you know, I don't know how Scar let them get away with it. Banzai?"

Sarabi rumbled a low growl. "What are you doing in Scar's home?"

"Scar's home? Say, you aren't Sarafina, are you?"

"Get out of Scar's home." Sarabi growled again, long and tense. "Get off Priderock!" She leapt forward, roaring at the hyenas. "GET OUT! GET OUT NOW! GET YOUR STINKING HIDES OUT OF THIS CAVE AND OFF THIS ROCK AND NEVER COME BACK!"

Now Banzai was awake, wide-eyed and staring. The third hyena, normally one to laugh everything off, indeed he did little else, looked on in stupefied terror. Moments later Sarabi rushed them. They scrambled to their paws, scattered into the deepest shadows and rushed with skitter of panicked claws past Sarabi and on out on to the promontory. Banzai yelped as he crashed into the surprised Sarafina, but managed to somehow pick himself up and rush off after the others. Sarafina looked on as they ran off, then turned to join Sarabi in the cave.

Sarabi lay, pushing back her breathing, on the platform in the cave, determined to mask every sign that the hyenas had ever been there, starting with their clinging, reeking scent. This was Scar's home and he would come back to it with it smelling only of lion if it was the last thing Sarabi ever did.