and beyond it the ponderous bulk of the princess under her furs.
Her snores started as a low grumbling like a volcano, and rose to a whistling crescendo that covered any sound Mungo might make as he slipped across to the first of the sleeping hand-maids.
Before she could stir he had slipped a gag of goat's skin into her mouth and trussed her at the ankles and wrists with a leather thong. She did not struggle, but stared up at his horrific mask with huge white eyes in the firelight.
He tied and gagged the second woman before crossing to Ningi's sleeping platform.
That afternoon, as one of the king's guests, Mungo had watched Ningi sitting beside her brother and swilling pot after pot of French champagne. She went on snoring and grunting as he bound her arms and legs. Only when he thrust the gag into her gaping mouth did she snuffle and moan and come out of her alcoholic slumbers.
He rolled her off the platform and she fell with a thump to the clay floor. He dragged her across to where her bound servants lay. It was heavy work, for she weighed 300 pounds or more.
He threw a log on the fire, and when it flared he pranced and capered around his captives, thrustin his hideous mask into their faces and gibbering at them in fiendish menace. In the firelight their sweat of fear burst out and ran in little rivulets down their bodies as they writhed and wriggled against their bonds.
Suddenly there was a spluttering explosive rush as Ningi voided her bowels with sheer terror, and the hot stink of faeces filled the hut. Mungo threw a fur kaross over them and immediately they were still, their grunts and muffled groans ceased.
He moved quickly then. Returning to the sleeping platform he threw the furs aside, and found a pallet of woven bamboo. It lifted like a trap door, and in the low recess below it were a dozen small clay pots.
His hands began to shake as he reached for one and lifted it out of the recess. His own sweat half blinded but through his blurred vision he saw the soapy him gleam of reflected firelight in the mouth of the pot.
He could not take it all, there was too much for him to carry and too much for him later to conceal. Moreover, his survivor's instinct warned him that the more he took the more remorseless would be the search and pursuit.
He spilled the contents of all twelve pots into a glittering heap beside the fire, and in its uncertain light made his choice of the biggest and brightest stones from the hundreds that teased him with their twinkling smiles.
Thirty of them filled the leather drawstring bag he had brought with him. He tied it back at his waist, snatched up the assegai and slipped out of the hut.
The guards at the inner stockade still slept, and he passed them silently. Below the wall of the outer stockade he stripped off his cloak, mittens and mask and dropped them on the untended watch-fire. Then he heaped branches over them, there would be only ash by morning.
He went up the rope swiftly, hand over hand, and pulled it up after him. The royal kraal behind him was silent in heavy midnight stupor, and he climbed lightly down the outer wall of the stockade.
He bathed in the pool below the camp, washing off the charcoal and fat, and then found his shirt and breeches where he had left them in the hollow of a tree trunk beside the pool.
in the hut he knelt beside Louise and placed one hand, still icy cold from the pool, upon her cheek. She sighed and rolled over onto her side. He felt like laughing and shouting his triumph out loud. Instead, he hid the bag of precious stones under his mattress and rolled into his blanket. He did not sleep for the rest of the night, and in the dawn he heard the hubbub of superstitious fear from the king's kraal, the screams of women and the shouts of men, loudly bolstering their courage against the spirits and the demons.
'This is a cruel thing for a good king to do,' Robyn told Lobengula bitterly.
'Nomusa, you are a wise woman, the wisest that I have ever known, but you do not understand the spirits and demons of Matabeleland.'
'I understand that the world is full of evil men, but that there are very few evil spirits.'
'The thing that entered my sister's hut came from the air. All the gates to the kraal were guarded by men unsleeping; they have sworn to me that they stood at their posts from dusk to dawn, with eyes wide and spears in their hands. Nothing passed them.'
'Even your best men can doze, and then lie to protect themselves.'
'Nobody dare lie to the king. It came from air, and it sprayed rotten stinking blood upon the portals of Ningi's hut., Lobengula shuddered despite himself. 'On Chaka's scrawny buttocks, that is a Tokoloshe trick. No man can do that.'
'Except if he carry blood in a pot to hurl on the doorway.'
'Nomusa -' Lobengula shook his head sorrowfully.
'My sister and her servants saw this great hairy thing black as midnight and stinking of the grave, with blood and not sweat oozing from its skin. Its eyes were like the full moon, and its voice that of lion and eagle, it had no hands and no feet, just hairy pads.'
Lobengula shuddered again.
'And it stole diamonds,' Robyn told him. 'What does a demon want with diamonds?'
'Who knows what a demon needs for his spells or his magic, or to please his dark master?'
'Men lust after diamonds.'
'Nomusa, to black men diamonds have no value, so it could not have been a black man. On the other hand, if a white man had entered my sister's hut he would not have been satisfied with a few stones. A white man would have taken them all, for that is their way. So it could not have been either a white man or a black man, what is left but a demon?'
'Lobengula, Great King, you cannot allow this thing to happen.'
'Nomusa, there has been a terrible witchcraft perpetrated within the royal kraal. An evil person or many evil
