As he wandered the strange land, memories of the blissful moments he spent with Isha came crowding in on him. He was unprepared to be out on his own, but his greatest fear was not death. There was a chance that Isha would bear his children in the middle of a drought and there would be no husband to see to her. What if the hyenas turned on the lion cubs? What if there were no more rains?
      Isha had begged Taka to be freed from her obligations and leave with Mabatu. Of course, she could not say she had married him, for Taka would not have recognized vows taken before mantlement. It was a mistake to speak of leaving to the King. Not only did he refuse her passage, he sent hyenas to trail her every move to prevent her from fleeing. It seems he knew more than he was admitting.
      Grief came to many that day. An old king had driven off some rogue lions that tested his authority. He and his brother were weak from age, and while they had both sired many daughters, there was no son to shoulder the load of defending the pride territory from the jealous eyes that wanted it.
      Prince Baliaha’s life was flowing away in a crimson river. Remnants of his once splendid mane lay scattered on the ground, and he gasped for breath. He looked up with eyes that strove to focus. “Are they gone? Brother, have we driven them off?”
      “Yes, we have.”
      “Good,” he said with a sigh of resignation. “They’ll come back, you know. And I’m afraid you’ll have to handle them alone.”
      “You’ll recover, but there will be scars.”
      Through his pain, Baliaha managed a smile. “You always were an optimist.” His eyes closed tightly, and he went into a seizure. The king looked away in horror and did not see his dying breath escape.
      There was a quiet moment, and a couple of lionesses peeked out of the brush. “How is he?”
      “He’s gone.”
      They bowed their heads low. “We will see to him. I’m sorry, but there’s another rogue male to the east by the termite mounds.”
      He was tortured by grief, but the grief became a terrible rage. Whomever this lion was, he would kill! “A life for a life!” he shrieked, foam on his heaving nostrils as he ran like a thing possessed across the grassland.

      Unwittingly, Baba was heading right into the eye of the storm. He was a gentle-natured soul and knew nothing of what he would face in The Big World. He kept a piece of advice that Isha had given him in the forefront--let Aiheu be your landmark and he will lead you home.
      Baba came to a stream. Under the searing sun, he sought to slake his thirst in the cool, clean water. He dipped his muzzle in and drew out refreshment, then he reached in with a paw and threw the cold, invigorating drops in his face, heaving a sigh of relief. A nearby acacia tree offered some shade, and he crossed the stream and settled down for a moment to rest.
      For a moment, all was deceptively peaceful. Then in the distance, he saw the powerful charge of a male lion. He felt his stomach knot up and rise into his chest.
      “Now you pay!” the King snarled, coming to a halt in front of Baba. “Defend yourself!”
      The youth cowered back and bared his teeth. “Leave me alone! You may kill me, but I’ll leave some scars on you!”
      The old yet powerful lion looked down at Baba. “What is this?? You’re just a boy!” He softened. “Are you lost, son? Are you looking for your mother?”
      Still cowering, but with a trace of pride, he answered, "I'm a lion now. I've been given my mantlement, and what's more, I've taken a mate."
      "Wfff! A lion you are! But a very young one, my lad. Drink, have something to eat from our kill, and remember that I was kind to you when you say your nightly prayers."
      "Thank you." He drank again from the stream and followed the old lion to a zebra kill. Famished, he looked at the half-eaten kill and wondered that so much food could possibly be in one place. Desperately, he tore pieces from the haunch and downed them, feeling the warm meat comfort his empty stomach. “Oh gods, you must be wealthy!”
      The king laughed. “I do all right.”
      After the edge was off Baba’s hunger, they talked.
      "What is your name, son?"
      "Mabatu."
      “Then we are both the same name! Do you have a nickname?”
      “They call me Baba.”
      "So who drove you off so young, Baba?"
      "Scar."
      "Scar??" He looked at him intently. "By any chance, do you know Kako?"
      "Sure. She’s my mother."
      A look of tenderness warmed the old king’s face. “Kako’s son?” He reached out with a paw and fondled Baba’s cheek, then turned his face with it from side to side as he saw the resemblance. “So you are.” Purring deeply, King Mabatu came forward and nuzzled Baba very gently. "The shaman spoke truly. If Kako is your mother, then you are welcome here. My brother died today, but Aiheu has sent me a son. Welcome your new father, Prince Baba!"
      Filled with wonder at his good fortune, and moved by the gentle lion’s plea, Mabatu nuzzled him and pawed his right shoulder. "I touch your mane! Aiheu make long and happy your days."
      King Mabatu sat down in the shade of some acacias and heard Baba’s story. He nodded solemnly and mused that even though his son had bad luck, perhaps Aiheu meant it for good. He introduced one of his lionesses--his youngest daughter Umande. “Mandy dear, show the new prince around his kingdom. If he’s going to rule someday, he needs to know the boundaries.”

      Umande was in very high spirits. “Mabatu?”
      “Maybe I should go by Baba. It’s less confusing. Besides, that’s what my friends call me.”
      “I’d like to be your friend, Baba.” She smiled broadly. “You don’t know what your coming has done for us. You’re the son my father never had. You’re our hope for a future.”
      “Whoa!” he said. “Really?”
      “Would I joke about a thing like that?” She nuzzled him playfully. “You think you’ve had a run of bad luck, but you’re really very lucky, you know?”
      “I don’t think I’ve had any bad luck. God has been very good to me. Your King is the second one who asked me to be his son. I never knew my real father, but I've known a lot of love in my life.” He nuzzled her back. “So your Dad knew my Mom?”
      “I suppose so. They hit it off well, I’d say.”
      A few clouds passed in front of the sun giving a moment of blessed respite from the mid-sun heat. A cool wind began to blow with the promise of moisture for the thirsty land. A drop fell, playfully teasing the end of Mabatu’s nose. Then a couple more fell. “Hey, it’s going to rain!” He almost danced. “Imagine that! Rain at last!”
      “What’s so great about that? It rains all the time.”
      “It does??” He remembered something his mother told him long ago and sighed. “I guess she was right. It’s only back home that it never rains. It’s been many moons since we’ve had any rain.”
      “Many moons, you say? What’s happened to the grass? It looks like that would ruin hunting.”
      “Hunting? Half-rotted fish trapped in pools as our beautiful river dries up to nothing. Dead birds, snakes, lizards. Do you realize that zebra is the first thing with hair on it I’ve eaten since I was belly-high to my mother?” He sighed. “Some day I’m going back for her, hyenas or no hyenas, and I’m getting her out of that hell hole. There will be a lot of scores settled that day, I promise you.”
      “Poor Baba!” She trotted in a lope that was easy and looked casual but moved a lot of ground beneath her. “These trees form one corner of our land. Note the scent, Baba. Note it carefully--it’s my Dad’s, and it’s all that comes between us and danger.”
      Baba sniffed of a tree trunk, closed his eyes and grimaced. The fragrance of his father’s urine was a safe smell, one that he would remember and respect. Then he lifted his leg and marked the tree. “There! You try to touch that old lion, you’ll have to kill me first!” His face lost its cublike timidity and he was the lion that made love to Isha once again. “I wish I’d known my Uncle Baliaha. He sounds like a decent sort of lion.”
      “He was more than decent. He loved us with his whole heart. He was a lot like you--he said they’d have to kill him first, and they did. Don’t take foolish chances, Baba. You’re our only hope.”
      “But I’m young. At least I have a chance.”
      “You have more than a chance. Aiheu sent you to us, and he never does anything halfway. I believe you are blessed, our little Nisei.”
      Baba smiled. That’s what Isha had called him so tenderly as they made love under the moon. He reached over and touched Umande with his tongue.
      It was a long trip from the copse to the termite mounds, or so it seemed to Baba who had never had to walk boundary lines before. As a lion, short-legged or no, he had to satisfy the mandates of lionhood laid down by Aiheu to the first Baba many generations ago. Again, he added his mark to the termite mounds, then turned to face Boundary Kopje. Another long walk, and another scent mark later, they followed the creek from Boundary Kopje to Bontebok Copse, and then back to where they started. It was part of his leonine heritage that he remembered the border vividly after one trip, even as he remembered his new father’s scent. He looked out into the lands beyond his domain, raised his muzzle and uttered a loud, deep roar. “This land is mine! Baba, son of Mabatu! Trespass at your peril!”
      Umande said, “This time, let’s see YOU find the markers.”
      Baba looked around, wide eyed. “Again??”

      Baba came home in the evening as the stars were just appearing; quite worn out from walking the beat. He groaned as he flopped to the grass, idly wondering just HOW the King did that every day. His mind kept wandering back to Isha. What was she doing tonight? Out on the hunt with Uzuri and Sarafina and Mom? He thought about Taka who had driven him out, and wondered what he meant when he whispered, “It’s for your own good.” He could not conceive of Taka not loving him, and in this he was right. Isha’s sweet voice came back to him, intoxicating with its subtle nuances of passion as she told him the words he wanted to hear all his life. “Let us make love....”
      Umande glided over and settled herself next to him.
      "Tired, Baba?"
      He nodded and sighed deeply.
      There was more than physical pain marking his face. Umande sensed that and was drawn to it. She nuzzled him softly. "Poor dear. You're worn out."
      Baba was covered in dust and sweat. Umande began to groom him gently, licking his shoulders and mane, brushing his ears, and cleaning his face.
      Baba could feel in her care an echo of his mother’s gentle touch. It transported him back to a simpler life he once lived in the shadow of Pride Rock. He half closed his eyes and purred softly.
      “Do you like me, Baba?”
      “Of course I like you, Mandy.”
      “I like you too. I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”
      “That’s nice,” he said, grunting with pleasure as she groomed behind his ears. “Oh that feels good.”
      She passed her paw across the tops of his shoulders and along the ridge of his back, fondling his strong but aching muscles. “Oh yes!” he said, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a deep sigh. She kneaded the small of his back and nosed a couple of small abrasions he got in the reeds. It felt heavenly.
      Then, without warning, she nuzzled him in the fold of his thigh, touching one of his rudimentary teats with her tongue. His eyes flew open and his ears sprang up. “Mandy?”
      “Yes, Baba?” she purred, fondling his buttocks.
      “Hey, what are you doing??”
      “Doesn’t it please you?”
      “That’s not the point!” He got up and walked a couple of lengths away, then turned to look at her, his tail clamped tightly down.
      “I’m sorry if I was too forward. I’ve never been with a lion before.” She looked at him contritely but still passionate. She came to him and rubbed him full length. "Let me comfort you tonight. I want to feel you close to me.”
      “Umande, please!”
      “I want to worship your beautiful body. I want to make you supremely happy. Baba, tell me what pleases you. Love me, Baba! Love me, please! Don’t you think I’m beautiful? Don’t you want me?”
      Baba trembled. He struggled to remember Isha and blot out the temptation before him, but Umande was there, alive and warm. He remembered what Isha said about finding another. He also remembered how he replied. Now if he could only wait till things were better, he could come back for her--if she still wanted him.
      “You are indeed beautiful,” Baba said. “Everything about you pleases me to the bone. God help me, I want you despite myself.”
      She pawed his face softly and kissed him. “From the moment I saw you, I longed for you. Now I’m in the season when my blood burns like a brush fire. Let my fragrance fill you with desire. Everything I am or ever will be I willingly cast at your feet.”
      The racing of his youthful passions did not blind him to his responsibilities, and he took in a deep breath and let it out. "I would take you here and now and never let you go. But I am pledged to Isha and I have made love to her. She may even have my children. Do not take advantage of my pain." He bent and kissed her cheek warmly. "I have loved Isha since I was a cub, and someday I will bring her here to live. I love her, and I hope you will be her friend. I hope you can still be my friend as well."
      He turned and stalked away silently. She stared heartbroken at him as he vanished into the night. “You could change your mind! I will wait for you, Baba! Love will prevail, and don’t be ashamed to admit it.” Tears filled her eyes and she collapsed on the ground.
      Then she heard a step behind her. King Mabatu came forward, his face tight and set. "Umande. I would speak with you."
      "Yes, Father?"
      "Tears, my darling daughter?” He kissed her. “What you seek can never be.” Gently but firmly he said, “I want you to leave him alone until your season is over. Is that clear?"
      "Why, father? I’ve done nothing wrong!"
      "I know...and I wish it to remain so."
      "Why? He's the first lion I've ever known that I feel safe with, and he needs me--I can feel it!"
      "THAT is why you must remain aloof." Mabatu sighed. "There is more at stake here than you realize."
      "Are you saying he's bad?"
      "No, honey tree. He's very good."
      “Then are you saying I’M bad?”
      “No, heavens, no, honey tree! I’m so proud of you.”
      "Then tell me why it’s so important I leave him alone! What would possibly be at stake? Don’t I have a right to know?"
      Mabatu settled to the grass beside his daughter. “You must not breathe a word of this to Baba. If it ever got out, there would be dire consequences from the gods themselves.”
      “What are you trying to say?”
      Mabatu took in a deep breath, shuddered, and let it slowly out. “I know you love him, but you must not mate with your own brother.”
      Umande gasped. “My brother? Him?? Oh my gods!” She began to sob, and Mabatu put a paw across her shoulders, pulling her face into the softness of his mane and kissing her. “Why didn’t you tell me??”
      “It is a long and painful story. Every time I tell it, a small part of me dies.”
      “Then don’t tell me.” She kissed her father and nuzzled him.
      “No, Mandy. I think it’s time you knew the truth about your mother. I owe you that much.”

      When Isha’s time had come, she had three cubs. Her son looked like the newborn Mabatu, and so she called him Habusu. Maybe he would meet a good lioness who would love him the way she loved her Baba and be a prisoner to her love. The daughters were named Minshasa and Jona after her favorite lionesses in star lore.
      Rumors had circulated about the father of the cubs. While it was still uncertain, most of the lionesses would have bet their whiskers that she had mated with Mabatu before his mantlement. Some of her pride sisters filed by to see them, more out of curiosity than of joy. They looked for familiar features in their face. More than a couple stared at Habusu and commented on how familiar his face was. Significantly, Kako did not even show up.
      While Isha was not a social outcast, there was tension and a feeling of disapproval in the faces that filed past her. They would say something pleasant only to go outside and gossip. And with Isha’s excellent hearing, there was no doubt she heard many hurtful things before the day was over.
      Yolanda said, “She will be a devoted mother. She has SUCH a way with KIDS.”
      Ajenti nuzzled her mother and laughed. “Talk about robbing the litter!”
      Sarafina said in a quiet voice, “How did he get her in trouble? I mean, I didn’t think at his age they could...well, YOU know.”
      “Carry through with it?” Ajenti said. “When those things aren’t on their mind, they wouldn’t think of trying. But when someone puts ideas in their head, you’d be surprised.”
      Sarafina was shocked. “Are you saying she led him on?”
      “I’m saying if those cubs were a reflection, Mabatu would be standing by the water hole. That’s all I’M saying.” Ajenti winked and walked away smugly.
      Just as Isha was ready to cry with shame, her friend Uzuri showed up. Uzuri’s love for Isha was absolute and unconditional and in her eyes, there could be no taint to spoil the beauty of her cubs. Uzuri looked at each cub, sniffed them gently, and touched them with her tongue. “This male looks like Mabatu when he was that age,” she purred. Isha cringed, but she saw that there was no malice in her words. “He’s very handsome. Sometimes I worry about Baba; where he is, what he’s doing, and if he’s missing you. We must pray for him.”
      Isha nuzzled her. “I love you, Uzuri.”
      “Why? What did I do.”
      “Nothing—and everything. Just because you’re you. You’re my truest friend in the world, and don’t think I don’t appreciate it, girl.” As Uzuri left, Isha brought the cubs to her warm belly and guided them to her milk. She rubbed over them with her paw tenderly as they nursed. “I don’t care what the others think. You are my children, and you are wonderful. You are Mabatu’s children. Our children.” She half closed her eyes. “My little Mabatu. Wherever you are, I hope you know how beautiful they are.”
      Later, Taka himself came by. “Look at the little angels,” he cooed. “Aren’t they beautiful!”
      “Mabatu’s children,” she said. “That’s what you came to find out, wasn’t it?”
      “Mabatu,” he said softly. “I will go to my death grieving for him. He was my son, and he always will be.”
      “Then why did you let him go?”
      “I don’t have to tell you, but I will.” He sighed. “The seer told me he would meet an evil fate if he stayed here. I love Mabatu. I loved him enough to give him a small chance over no chance at all.” He sighed again. “Everyone I love suffers for it. Even my poor Lannie. Do you think I’m completely unaware? I may have many faults, but stupidity is not one of them.”
      There was a truthful ring to his voice. Isha looked at the sadness that clouded his face as he recalled his friend.
      He looked at the male cub. “What is his name?”
      “Habusu.”
      “Habusu, you are son of my son. You will be my heir, and the one true King. I am not a seer, but I predict that you will not be hated as I am hated. You have brought some measure of peace to my heart. That is not an easy thing to do.”
      “You honor me,” Isha said, but she looked a little worried. “Please don’t tell the hyenas just yet.”
      “Why not?”
      “If their seer is so good, let her come tell you.”
      He half laughed. “Yes. Let her. But aren’t you a little curious what the future holds for him?”
      “Yes. That’s why I plan to be there when it happens. We all have to suffer thorns and bruises, and we all have to die, but isn’t it really better not knowing how and when?”
      “Why Isha, you’re a philosopher.”
      “All mothers are philosophers.”
      Only one week earlier, Beesa had become a philosopher. Fortunately, she only had one cub to worry about feeding, a daughter named Lisani. Perhaps someday Lisani would grow to love Habusu. Perhaps Aiheu in his mercy will provide some future for them all. Perhaps....

      Isha’s cubs spent a few days blissfully unaware of prejudice. But then Jona managed to waddle unsteadily to the mouth of her cave and look out. It was a strange world that first met her wondering eyes, one with no roof or walls, and a bright yellow eye looking down on her. And playing about were other small, furry creatures that looked just like her. Cubs!
      Excitedly, she gamboled back with the news. “There are other lions out there just like us!”
      When Isha’s children were old enough to walk a straight line, they would leave the safety of the den and go out to meet those cubs.
      “Hi!” Minshasa said to one. “I’m Minnie!”
      “I’m Piki! Wanna play tag?”
      “Sure. How does it work?”
      Piki’s mother stepped forward. “You’re Isha’s little girl, aren’t you?”
      “Yes ma’am.”
      “Well run along now. It’s time for Piki’s bath.”
      Piki looked up. “But you just bathed me this morning!”
      “Well you’re dirty again. Don’t sass your mother.”
      While other cubs were free to make friends at will, there were strange problems for Isha’s children as they sought to be accepted by the parents. Without parental approval, those brief, tantalizing contacts with other cubs went nowhere.
      Usually, there was polite avoidance. Outspoken Gobiso gave prejudice a name and face when he came out and said, “My mother told me I couldn’t play with you. Sorry.”
      Isha’s children ended up thinking all cubs pretty much stayed only with their mother. They clung to this belief rather than believe there was something wrong with them. Indeed, they looked and felt just like everyone else--they were just more lonely. They played among each other and were an even more closely knit family than usual. Habusu and Jona were an inseparable pair. Minshasa was more withdrawn and would snuggle under her mother’s chin. Ironically, it was Minnie that was more like Isha as a cub. For the first year of her life, Isha was painfully shy. That was a bond between them, and Isha would purr, touching Minnie with her paw and kissing her while Habu and Jona played.
      Beesa’s daughter gave them a welcome respite from their isolation. Like Uzuri, Isha showed no favoritism when it came to cubs and treated her niece like one of her own. “Miss Priss” was prim and proper, but she was also a lion cub and subject to lapses in both her dignity and her discipline. Because Habusu was so polite and gentle, he and Miss Priss formed a partnership right away. They were not only cousins but milk brother and sister. When Uzuri came to visit, she showered Habusu with affection and care, sure that someday he would pledge to Lisani and raise a family. “Look at them,” Uzuri would say. “Don’t they make a cute couple?”
      While Habusu’s sisters played together, Habusu would follow Lisani around like a puppy. Even Taka noticed this, and he pronounced his blessings on the relationship, a step that Habu did not understand at the moment, but one that made Lisani his betrothed.
      But eventually Habusu wanted another male to play with. It was only a natural part of growing up. Uzuri’s twin sons Togo and Kombi heard no dark rumors about Isha and Mabatu from their mother. Uzuri could never see anything in Isha but beauty, though she was aware of her ‘playful’ tendencies. That didn’t matter anymore, for to Uzuri alone Isha revealed that she was saving herself for her young husband. Uzuri understood--she always understood like no one else.
      Despite their occasional difficulties, Isha’s family was a happy one, and it seemed with Habusu’s future secured that the happiness would go on forever. Then when Isha’s children were two moons old, Minshasa, who was always a frail and delicate creature, came down with Dol Sani. In most cases, it is a rite of passage. For the undernourished cub, it was a major blow. Helplessly, Isha watched her decline day by day, huddling desperately against her mother as if Isha could protect her against the invisible enemy that was hurting her. Isha would stroke her with her paw and tell her that everything would be all right, and for a while her story fooled the child, and Isha almost believed it herself. Then one week into her illness, Minshasa died in her sleep. Indeed, the pain went away.
      The death of Minshasa was a wake up call to Isha’s pride sisters. Little by little they came to see the unmistakable beauty in her sad countenance. It was a beauty that came from within and brought shame to those who gossiped behind her back. Then one moon later with terrible suddenness, pneumonia snatched Jona from her. The same ones who gossiped once would whisper about the noble and beautiful sadness that made her already pleasant features almost godlike. Indeed, she had taken on the awful beauty of Kako, her best friend. In those days, Kako stayed by her side constantly, helping her keep her sanity. It was a kindness that would prove important in the future.
      Isha clung desperately to Habusu. Every night as she prayed for Habu’s safety, she would say, “If you must take one of us, take me. But spare my son.” Indeed, Isha was not only perceived as a more noble creature by the Pride Sisters, she became more noble. Seeing her roll over in prayer was not that uncommon, and everyone nodded and said she could use all the prayer she could get.

      Finally, Habusu became weak in turn. Isha was going mad with worry, and Taka paced about like something possessed. “The curse! The curse!” he would murmur. “Will nothing stop it??”
      Isha was heartened when Kako and some of her friends smuggled herbs from Rafiki to build Habu’s blood and heal his infection. Even Taka, who did not often pray, would come over and let the child stroke his mane in the belief that a King’s mane might have some healing powers. He would pray to Aiheu, and even breathe a quick whisper to Roh’kash just to be sure. Then day by day Habusu grew stronger. For one of the short times in Taka’s adulthood, he believed that there was a God after all. And from that time forward, he would always say “Aiheu provides” before eating.
      From the time he was very young, Habu had been told that his father loved him very much, though he had never seen him. And though that sounded strange to most people, Habu did not doubt it for a moment because his mother would never lie to him.
      Though Isha did not lie, the truth she withheld from him would fill volumes. Habu knew about his father only in broad general terms--that he was brave, handsome, gentle, and loved them both very much. But Habu thirsted to know more. And one day when Togo and Kombi were telling him about things that happened before he was born, he decided to ask if they knew his father. It was a dreadful mistake.
      Kombi, without malice, simply tried to answer his friend’s heartfelt question with a truthful answer. “Mabatu was one of the older cubs,” he said. I heard Ajenti telling Sarafina that he scored with your Mom before his mantlement, and Scar kicked him out but wouldn’t tell anyone why. Maybe he saw them--I don’t know. You mean she didn’t tell you?”
      “No.” Habu trembled. “What do you mean by ‘scored?’”
      “You know. Getting down. Heavy breathing. The wild thing.”
      Habu gasped. Tears started down his cheeks and he let his breath out in a great wail. “Mommmm!”
      “Hey, Habu! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Kombi said, genuinely distressed. “That’s where babies come from. It’s just your Dad wasn’t old enough, and you get busted for that around here.”