Then one day Mabatu was restless. He could barely move, but he spoke incessantly about going to the termite mounds. “This is not a good place to die,” he insisted. “I need a change of scenery.”

He was so insistent that Makaka was afraid he would hurt himself in his struggles. He knew what was happening, for Baba had told him about his final wishes long ago. “Eat this. It will give you what you need.”

Old King Mabatu chewed the strip of jerky slowly, careful to swallow all of it. Despite the strong spicy flavor of the meat, he could taste the medication in it. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Mabatu said slowly. “This stuff tastes awful.”

“It will loosen up your joints,” Makaka said.

“That’s what I need. Even now, I can see Mano standing over there.” He looked around at an empty place on the meadow. “See, the white lion does not cast a shadow. Or maybe you do not see. Mano appears to whom he will.”

While he laid still and let the drug take effect, his daughters came one by one and filed past him, kissing him and saying, “Pray for me, Daddy.” Baba and Isha kissed him, and their cubs came and rubbed on his face. Mabatu looked about at the crowd and heaved a sigh, then he smiled gratefully. “You made my life worthwhile. I thank you all.”

With a look of supreme effort, King Mabatu struggled to his feet. Isha and Umande pushed him fully upright and leaned against his sides as he took to his last trail.

Away across the long meadow, they walked under the hot sun toward the distant termite mounds. Another lion might not have endured the long trek, but Mabatu had one last thing to accomplish, and he would not die until he had done it.

He dragged himself the last final steps to the termite mounds and found the spot where he had slept so many nights. There he collapsed and sighed deeply. “This is a good place to die. Maybe a flower will grow here, and both of us will come back as one beautiful blossom.”

Mabatu wanted to tell Baba that he really WAS his father but didn’t dare say it directly. “When I am gone, talk with my daughter. She will tell you things that I would say if only I could. But son, if Aiheu allows, my Ka will remain here a moment after I’m dead. If you have anything to say to me, speak then.”

Baba put his paw over the King’s. “Is it about Mom?”

“I cannot say. But know this--I loved your mother very much, and I love you with all my heart.”

He rolled on his side and his eyelids began to droop. “Prepare me for my death. The darkness is settling in.”

Baba reached out with his paw and drew a circle around his father’s eye and touched him under the chin. As tears started, he asked him, “Are you my father?”

Mabatu smiled weakly. “I love you.” He took in a deep breath, shuddered, and released it in a prolonged sigh. His mouth hung open and urine trickled out behind him in a small puddle.

Umande came to him. “Your real father is dead.”

Mabatu answered, "I knew. Somehow, I always knew." He looked at the body, pained. “Why couldn’t he tell me?”

“He promised to keep silent for your sake. When my father was very young, he was separated from his sister.” Umande sighed, looking at her dead father and stroking his mane with her paw. “Dad and his brother grew up and eventually ruled the Pride Lands together.

“Then one day a rogue lioness came in wanting refuge. Her name was Kako, and eventually she and my father fell in love and pledged to each other. Between them, they raised many cubs. Most of them were female and lived, but the two males they had were born dead. Then your mother became pregnant with you. She left your father soon afterwards.”

But if they were so much in love, why did Mom leave him?”

“To save your life.” Umande pawed him. “Your father wanted to know why none of his sons lived. So he asked a shaman for help and found out to his horror that Kako was his own sister.”

Baba gasped. “Oh my gods!”

“The shaman said if Kako would forsake my father and if they would hide the truth from you, that you would be spared. Few parents have ever shown such love to their child as you have been shown.” Tears filled her eyes. “Do you remember the day I tried to make love to you?”

“How could I forget?”

“I found out that evening that I was your sister.” She touched his mane with her paw. “His pain had become mine. I’ve never loved another lion but you, and I never will.” She wept softly and bowed her head in shame.

“Oh honey tree!” He kissed away his tears. “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “For some odd reason, I feel much better now. No more vows of silence, but I hope you won’t breathe a word about--you know--US--to Isha? She looks like the jealous type.”

Baba nodded. He stroked Mabatu’s mane with his paw. “I was going to say it made no difference if you were my real father or not. But you know, Dad, I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud of being your son as I am right now. I love you.”

THE END: THE PROMISE

LEGAL NOTE:

 This original copyrighted work is based on Walt Disney's feature film, "The Lion King." Elements taken directly from “The Lion King” are the property of The Walt Disney Company. "The Promise" is distributed free of charge excepting reasonable distribution costs. Quoting passages from our work, writing original pieces based on our work, or using characters we created is fine as long as you secure prior approval. That begins by sending either of us a copy of the work. Our e-mail addresses are:

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Your comments on our work, pro and con, are always welcome. We have been asked about our legal note. This is our official response: “The copyright is maintained solely to prevent patently vulgar or lewd misuse of our characters. Most any work, including parodies would be fine as long as it meets certain reasonably broad standards of decency. We reserve the right as copyright holders to define and change those standards. None of these standards is meant to force the applicant to be consistent with the literary style or plot of the original work.”

The character Isha is the property of Brian Tiemann. Used with permission.

This story is a fictional work, but we don’t claim that any resemblance to any characters living or dead is purely coincidental. With love and respect, we acknowledge the debt we owe to those who taught us how to laugh and cry. Without acting as clear models for any one character, many great souls, some non-human, have been woven deeply into the fabric of our lives only to end up in “The Promise.”