Each morning Jim and Louisa rode out with Bakkat to break trail and search ahead for any lurking danger or for fresh sign of the elephant nerds. They scouted far ahead of the slowly moving caravan, picking out the passes through the hills, the fords and drifts across the rivers. The herds of wild game astonished them, but they found that the Nguni had swept the land bare of human presence. Villages had been burnt to the ground, only the smoke-blackened patterns of the foundation stones still standing, and the veld around was strewn with the white fields of human bones. There was no living soul.
'The mefecane,' Tegwane called this great slaughter. The pounding of the tribes, like corn between the grinding stones of the imp is
Once Inkunzi had proved his worth and established his place high in the hierarchy of the band, he joined quite naturally in the indabas around the campfire. He was able from his own life to paint for them a picture of these terrible events. He told them how his people had their origins far to the north, along some mythical valley, a place he called the Beginning of All Things.
Generations before, his tribe had been overtaken by some cataclysmic event, another mefecane, and the famine that naturally followed. They and their herds had begun the long migration southwards plundering and killing all the other tribes that stood in their path. As pastoralists and nomads they always moved on, seeking grazing for their herds, more plunder and women. It was a tragic saga.
'We will never know how many human souls have perished on these lovely wild fields,' Louisa said softly.
Even Jim was subdued by the extent of the tragedy that had swept like the black plague across the continent. 'This is a savage land. To flourish it needs to be watered by the blood of man and beast,' he agreed with her.
When they scouted ahead of the wagons Jim was always on the lookout for signs of the rest of the Nguni, and drilled his small band in the defensive tactics they would adopt if they were attacked.
He was searching also for the elusive elephant herds, but as the weeks passed, and mile after mile of this grand and tract less land fell behind the turning wagon wheels, they discovered neither Nguni nor elephant.
Almost three months after they had turned east, they came abruptly upon a steep, broken escarpment where the land fell away before them into a sheer abyss.
'This seems to be the end of the world,' Louisa breathed. They stood together and stared in wonder. In the clear air and bright sunshine it seemed they could indeed see to the ends of the earth. Staring through the lens of his telescope Jim saw that as it blended with the distant horizon the sky shaded to an unearthly blue, bright and translucent as polished lapis-lazuli.
It took him some time to realize what he was looking at. Then the angle of the sunlight changed subtly and he exclaimed, 'In the name of all that is holy and beautiful, Hedgehog, 'tis the ocean at last.' He handed her the telescope. 'You shall now see what a famous navigator I am, for I shall lead you unerringly to the beach at Nativity Bay in the land of the elephants.'
Tom and Dorian Courtney rode up to the main gates of the castle. They were expected and the sergeant of the guard saluted and waved them through into the courtyard. Grooms came running to take their horses as they dismounted.
The Courtney brothers were accustomed to such respect. As two of the leading burghers of the colony and its most prosperous merchants, they were often guests of Governor van de Witten. The governor's secretary, himself an important VOC official, came scurrying out of his office to greet them and usher them through into the governor's private quarters.
They were not kept waiting in the anteroom, but taken immediately into the spacious council chamber. The long central table and all the twenty chairs around it were of stinkwood, one of the most beautifully grained timbers of Africa, lovingly carved by the skilled Malay slave cabinet-makers. The floors were of lustrous yellow-wood planks polished with beeswax until they shone like glass. The panes of the bay windows at the far end of the room were of jewel-like stained glass shipped down the length of the Atlantic from Holland. They looked out over the vista of Table Bay, with the monumental bulk of Lion's Head mountain beyond. The bay was cluttered with shipping, and whipped by the southeaster into a froth of prancing white horses.
The panelled walls were hung with the seventeen portraits of the council members of the VOC in Amsterdam: serious bulldog-faced men in black hats with lace collars, paper white on their high-buttoned black coats.
Two men rose from their seats at the council table to greet the brothers. Colonel Keyser was in the dress uniform he had designed for himself. It was of scarlet brocade, with sashes over both shoulders, one blue, the other gold. His ample girth was encircled by a sword belt embossed with gold medallions, and the hilt of his rapier was inlaid with semi-precious stones. There were three large enamelled diam ante stars pinned on his chest. The largest of these was the Order of St. Nicholas. The tops of his glossy boots reached above his knees. His hat was wide brimmed, crowned with a large bunch of ostrich feathers.
In contrast, Governor van de Witten wore the sombre dress that was almost the uniform of the most senior officials of the VOC: a black velvet skull-cap, a Flemish lace collar, and a black high-buttoned jacket. His thin legs were clad in black silk hose, and his square-toed shoes were buckled with solid silver.
'Mijnheeren, you do us honour by your presence,' he said, his face pale and lugubrious.
'The honour is ours alone. We came as soon as we received your invitation,' Tom said, and the brothers bowed together. Tom was dressed in dark broadcloth, but of first quality and London cut. Dorian wore a green silk jacket and voluminous breeches. His sandals were camel-skin, and his turban matched his jacket and was secured with an emerald pin. His short red beard was neatly trimmed and curled. It was in sharp contrast to Tom's more luxuriant, silver-shot growth. Looking at them together nobody would have guessed they were brothers. Colonel Keyser came forward to greet them, and they bowed again.
'Your servant, Colonel, as ever,' Tom said.
'Salaam akikum, Colonel,' Dorian murmured. Although when he was at High Weald and in the bosom of his own family he often forgot it, when he went abroad, and especially in these formal surroundings, he liked to remind the world that he was the adopted son of Sultan Abd Muhammad al-Malik, the Caliph of Muscat. 'Peace be unto you, Colonel.' Then he added in Arabic, making it sound like part of the greeting, 'I like not the fat one's expression. The tiger shark smiles in the same way.' This was entirely for Tom's benefit: he knew that the others in the room understood not a word of what he had said.
Governor van de Witten indicated the chairs facing his own across the glistening expanse of the table. 'Gentlemen, please be seated.' He clapped his hands, and immediately a small procession of Malay slaves appeared carrying silver salvers of choice morsels of food, and decanters of wine and spirits.
While they were being served the governor and his guests continued the customary exchange of compliments and small talk. Both Tom and Dorian refrained from more than a single glance at the mysterious object that lay in the centre of the stinkwood table between them. It was covered with a velvet cloth, beaded around the edges. Tom pressed his knee lightly against Dorian's. Dorian did not look at him, but touched the side of his nose, a signal that he had also noticed the object. Over the years they had grown so close that they could read each other's minds with accuracy.
The slaves at last backed out of the council chamber, and the governor turned to Tom. 'Mijnheer Courtney, you have already discussed with Colonel Keyser the distressing and reprehensible behaviour of your son, James Archibald Courtney.'
Tom stiffened. Although he had been expecting this, he braced himself for what would follow. What new trick has Keyser come up with
now? he wondered. As Dorian had pointed out, Keyset's expression was smug and gloating. Aloud he said, 'Indeed, Governor, I well recall our conversation.'
'You assured me that you disapproved of your son's behaviour, his interference with the course of justice, the abduction of a female prisoner, the theft of VOC property.'
'I remember it well,' Tom assured him hastily, anxious to cut short the list of Jim's transgressions.
However, van de Witten went on remorselessly: 'You gave me your assurance that you would keep me informed of your son's whereabouts as soon as you obtained knowledge of his movements. You promised that you would do all in your power to see to it that he and this female criminal, Louisa Leuven, were brought to the castle at the first opportunity to answer to me personally for their crimes. Did we not agree on this?'
'Yes, we did, Your Excellency. I also recall that, as an earnest of my good faith and intentions and to compensate the VOC for its losses, I made a payment to you of twenty thousand guilders in gold.'
Van de Witten ignored this solecism. He had never issued an official receipt for that payment, ten per cent of which had gone to Colonel Keyset and the balance into his own purse. As he went on speaking his expression became increasingly sorrowful: 'I have reason to believe, Mijnheer Courtney, that you have not kept your side of our bargain.'
Tom threw up his hands, and made theatrical sounds of amazement and denial, but did not go so far as to deny the charge outright.
'You would like me to substantiate what I have just said?' van de Witten asked, and Tom nodded warily. 'As
