Baba remembered that his new father would sleep in a certain place, but about one moon after his mother died, he noticed that Mabatu made a mysterious pilgrimage. He would reappear in his usual place each morning, but apparently did not spend the night in that spot. This intrigued Baba and one night he determined to follow his father.
      Quietly tailing him, Baba watched as King Mabatu walked, ears drooped and tail hanging limply. The King crossed the broad meadow, the creek, and beyond to the termite mounds and the place where Kako died. By her bleached bones--or what was left of them--Mabatu fell on his face and rolled on his back. “Kako!” he sobbed. “Kako! My little Kako!”
      Baba, against his better judgment, walked to Mabatu and touched him with his paw.
      The old king jerked around. “What are you doing here??”
      Tearfully, Baba stroked his mane with a paw. “You don’t have to hide it from me anymore.”
      “Hide what??” Mabatu asked fearfully.
      “You loved her, didn’t you?”
      Mabatu sighed. “Yes, I loved her. Her ties to your father were stronger than death itself. And I loved her stronger than death itself. She knew that--she asked me to be strong for your sake. The poor Nisei, always looking after us, even at the boundaries of death itself!” He pawed Baba’s mane. “Ask me no more about it, Baba. Not if you love me.”
      “As you wish, father. But tell me: you come here every night, don’t you.”
      “Yes. And when I die, I want to die here. It’s a beautiful spot to meet Aiheu in. Yes, a beautiful spot for anything. Kako and I were apart in life, but we will be together in death.”
      Baba wept. “If I have to drag you here myself, you will rest here.”
      Mabatu nuzzled him tenderly, then lay in the grass and said, “Son, you have a wife whose fur is warm and soft. Leave me with the dead and go treasure the living while they may be found. I’ll be OK, I promise.”

      Isha responded to Baba’s love by kindling new life within her. Baba had never witnessed pregnancy before, and he spent many days in anxious pacing as the evidence of his new family began to show.
      “This waiting is killing me!” he said after two moons.
      “What do you think it’s doing to me??” Isha asked. Then she laid on her side and motioned for him to come over. “Lay your head against me here. Now listen very carefully.”
      Baba settled against her belly, straining to hear the sounds of new life. “Hey!”
      “Did you hear anything?”
      “No, but something moved!”
      “Not something. Someone. Your child.”
      Baba raised his head, a look of such beauty in his eyes that Isha had to reach out with a paw and stroke him. “Life is a miracle,” he murmured. “My beautiful Isha! I love you so!”
      Isha did not follow Kako’s lead and hunt when she was having contractions. But she did hunt right up to her due date, taking a position as beater and leaving the main kill to the unburdened. Even that made Baba nearly split his hide. Mabatu had to reassure him that Isha knew what she was doing.
      One day, Isha excused herself from the hunt. Worriedly, Baba asked her, “Are you all right?”
      “It’s time,” she said.
      “Time for what?”
      “Time for Habu’s mantlement,” she said pointedly. “I’m having contractions!”
      “Oh.”
      When the full realization hit him, he nearly went into histrionics. “Where are the midwives?? Don’t you think Rafiki should be here?? They’re out on the hunt at a time like this??”
      “Just relax and it will all be over soon,” Isha said. She could tell it was going to be a difficult delivery, and she wished that Rafiki could have been there to give Baba something for the pain.
      “What are we going to do?”
      Isha grimaced and breathed deeply. Trying to remain calm, she said, “Bring Mabatu here. My midwives will be midhusbands.”
      “But I don’t know what to do??”
      “I’ll talk you through it, Honey Tree. Just relax.”
      Her water broke, and labor began in earnest. Throughout the stressful process, several cries of discomfort broke the stillness of the night, but Isha tried hard to ignore them. She brought out one, two, and finally three cubs.
      “Remove the sacs,” she told Mabatu. “You can do it.”
      He reached out with his paw, claws extended.
      “No, use your teeth.”
      “My teeth??”
      “Hurry or they’ll suffocate!”
      Grimacing with disgust, Mabatu pulled the membranous sac from each cub. “Eew!”
      “Now Baba, you help lick them clean. Hurry, Baba! You wanted to help, didn’t you?”
      Baba parted his lips and managed to part his tightly clenched teeth. He touched the first cub with his tongue and licked toward the face. After the initial shock, he relaxed and began to groom more vigorously. Mabatu took one of the others and began to groom. “It’s not SO bad.”
      “Of course not,” Isha said, taking the third one and grooming quickly but lovingly. “Do you realize these are your children, Baba? And your grandchildren, Mabatu?”
      “Yeah!” Baba said. “My children! Look how small and fragile they are! Look at those tiny paws and that little pink nose!”
      Isha smiled proudly. “Two sons and a daughter. The sons will be N’ga and Sufa. But I’m unsure about the daughter.”
      Habu came up. He regarded the small bundle of fur and said, “I’d like to name her Jona.”
      A pained look came to Isha’s face. “Why that name, my son?”
      “Because she was my friend. She was very special to me.”
      Isha put her paw on his. “She was very special to me too. That’s why no more of my cubs must ever have that name. I already have two Mabatus to keep track of, honey tree. Let’s think of something else.”
      Habu said, “Maybe we could call her Penda?”
      “Rafiki’s little girl.” Isha thought for a moment, then smiled. “Yes, that is a good name. It means ‘beloved,’ and she will be.” She looked around at the three generations of males and nodded. “You were there when I needed you. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

      Lisani grew into quite a beautiful lioness. Isha looked at her appraisingly one day and said, “Beesa would be so proud of you. I know I am.” Habu noticed as well, and while his cubhood devotion remained undimmed, it took on an additional richness of depth and meaning as he longed to bond with her and raise a family.
      Miss Priss was an apt pupil, quick to master hunting skills and put them into practice. She was rather young when she made her first kill and was doubly proud when Isha put the blood on her cheek. All she had to wait for was Habu’s mantlement.
      Habusu enjoyed something that was a rare privilege for Ahadi’s line. He had a grandfather. King Mabatu doted on him as much as he did Isha’s newer cubs.
      King Mabatu had lost his wife, but it would be unfair to say his last years were dark. Far from it, he would roll on his back and sweep his paw at Aiheu, thanking him for the love that was the comfort of his old age.
      Still he never forgot Kako, and a day never passed that he didn’t express his grief in his own special way. The day of Habusu’s mantlement, when he watched Habu pledge to Lissie, Mabatu could almost feel Kako’s presence next to him. It was a peaceful feeling, and after the ceremony, he sought her out.
      King Mabatu slinked quietly to the Termite Mounds. He stood where the green grass swayed and flowers nodded in the breeze. On that spot Kako had gone to be with Aiheu. Mabatu stroked a tender spike of purple flowers. “From one beauty to another,” he murmured gently. “My little Nisei.” Finding comfort in the soft grass that sprang from her body, he spoke to her.
      “You know, Habusu is an old married lion now. Yes, he’s taken the big step, and you should see what a good couple they make, Miss Priss and Habu. When I see them together, I remember the wonderful times we had together. Oh girl, what times they were! I’m just sorry you’re not here to see this. You would be so proud.” He closed his eyes and pillowed his head in the soft grass. Taking in a deep breath, he tasted the fragrance of the flowers. “See you in my dreams, honey tree.”

      Old King Mabatu had not walked the border for many days. He left the job to his capable son and grandson, and while he was not worried about safety the inactivity was a blow to his self esteem.
      For a week or so, Mabatu said, “Tomorrow I will mark, but today I’m just not well. But don’t worry about me.” Then as he declined rapidly, he stopped the pretense and began to speak of Kako more in the present tense than in the past. “She will be young and fresh. What will she think of this broken-down old lion coming to meet her!”
      Makaka and Anasa were taking turns monitoring his care. At first, Mabatu chafed saying, “I don’t trust these female doctors!” After a couple of days, however, he would rest his large head in the shelter of Anasa’s arms and whimper as he would not dare in front of the males. “Honey Tree, do you have anything that will help this pain? It’s all I can do just to go on from minute to minute.” She would kiss him and treat him with herbs, and before a week was out, he would be disappointed to see Makaka coming. “What have you done with my honey tree??”
      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

       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:
 
      David A. Morris:damorris@wilmington.net
      John H. Burkitt: john.burkitt@nashville.com
 
      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.”