service, with a glowing letter of character reference.
'Where is Susie?' Sarah asked, when she reached the end of the line, and looked around for one of her older housemaids. Susie was married to the wagon driver Sonnie, who was still a prisoner in the castle dungeons.
The other servants looked around with surprise. 'Susie was here,' one answered. 'I saw her at the end of the veranda.'
'She was probably overcome by the shock of hearing that we are leaving,' Yasmini suggested. 'When she has recovered I'm sure she will come back to take her leave.'
There was so much still to be done that Sarah was forced to put Susie's absence to the back of her mind. 'I'm sure she would never let us go without a word,' she said, and hurried down to make sure that the cart carrying her special treasures was ready to leave for the beach.
By the time the wagons were ready to leave the homestead the moon had risen, and by its light Susie was hurrying along the road to the castle. She had her shawl over her head, the tail of it wrapped round the lower half of her face. Her face was wet with tears, and she muttered to herself as she ran: They don't think about me and Sonnie. No, they leave my husband in the hands of the Boers, to be beaten and killed. They leave me here with three little ones to starve while they sail away.' The twenty years of kindness she had received from Sarah Courtney were swept from her mind and she burst into sobs as she thought about the cruelty of her employer.
She quickened her pace. 'Well, if they don't care for me and Sonnie and the little ones, why should I care for them?' Her voice hardened with her resolve. 'I will make a bargain with the Boers. If they let Sonnie go from the dungeon, I will tell them what Klebe and his wife are up to tonight.'
Susie did not waste time going to the castle to find Colonel Keyser. She went directly to the little cottage behind the Company gardens. The Hottentot community was close-knit and Shala, Colonel Keyset's paramour, was the youngest daughter of Susie's sister. Her liaison with the colonel gave Shala great prestige in the family.
Susie knocked on the shutters of the back room of the cottage. After some fumbling and grumbling in the darkened bedroom, lantern light flared behind the shutters and Shala's voice demanded sleepily, 'Who is it?'
'Shala, it's me. Tannic Susie.'
Shala opened the shutters. She stood naked in the light of her own lantern, and her fat honey-coloured breasts joggled together as she leaned over the window-sill. 'Auntie? How late is it? What do you want at this hour?'
Is he here, child?' Susie's question was redundant. Keyset's snores
rumbled from the darkened bedroom like distant thunder. 'Wake him up.'
'He will beat me if I do,' Shala protested. 'You also, he will thrash you.'
'I have important news for him,' Susie snapped. 'He will reward us both when he hears it. Your uncle Sonnie's life depends on it. Wake him at once.'
When the line of wagons set off from High Weald towards the se afront even those who were not sailing with the family walked alongside. When they reached the beach they helped load the cargo into the lighters that were already waiting at the edge of the surf. Before all the wagons had made their way down through the dunes both boats were fully loaded.
'In this surf we will risk a capsize if we burden them any more,' Tom decided. 'Dorian and I will take this load out to the ships and secure the guards.' He turned to Sarah and Yasmini. 'If they are not sufficiently lulled with Mansur's brandy, there may be a rumpus on board. I don't want you mixed up in that. You two must wait here and I will bring you out to the ships on the next trip.'
'The cart with our luggage has not arrived yet.' Sarah peered back worriedly into the darkness of the dunes.
'It will be here in short order,' Tom assured her. 'Now, please wait here and do not take Yassie and go wandering off to heaven knows where.' He embraced her and whispered in her ear, 'And I would be mightily obliged if you do as I ask just this once.'
'How can you think so poorly of your own wife?' she whispered back. 'Off you go. When you return I shall be here, as good as gold.'
'And twice as beautiful,' he added.
The men scrambled aboard the lighters and seized the oars. The pull out to the ships was rough and wet, for the laden vessels were low in the water. The spray came over the bows, soaking them to the skin. When at last they rowed into the calmer water in the lee of the Gift of Allah there was no challenge from the ship. Tom swarmed up the rope ladder with Dorian and Mansur not far behind him. They drew their blades, ready to meet an attack from the VOC troops, but instead they found Captain Batula waiting at the entry-port.
'May the peace of God be upon you.' He greeted his ship's owners with the deepest respect. Dorian embraced Batula warmly. They had ridden thousands of leagues together and sailed even further. They had fought side by side in the battles that had won a kingdom. They had shared bread and salt. Their friendship was a rock.
'Where are the guards, Batula?' Tom cut short their greetings. 'The forecastle,' Batula told him. 'They are sodden with drink.' Tom ran to the open companion way and jumped down. The cabin stank of brandy fumes and other less attractive odours. The VOC troopers and their corporal were lying comatose in puddles of their own vomit.
Tom sheathed his sword. 'These gentlemen are quite happy for a while. Tie them up and let them enjoy their rest until we are ready to leave. Let's get the gold chests and the rest of the cargo on board.'
Once the chests of gold coins were safely stowed in the main cabin, Tom left Dorian and Mansur to supervise the loading of the rest of the cargo. He took charge of the second lighter and they rowed across to the Maid of York. They found the VOC guards there in no better condition than their comrades on the Gift of Allah.
'Sunrise in eight hours, and we must be out of sight of land by then,' Tom told Kumrah, the Arab captain. 'Get this cargo on board as soon as you like.' The crew flew at the task and as the last bale of goods came on board, Tom looked across at the other ship and saw that Dorian had sent a single lantern to the masthead of the Gift, the signal that the first lighter was unloaded and returning to the beach to pick up the women and the remaining cargo.
As soon as the bales were lashed down, Tom had his crew carry the VOC soldiers up from the forecastle and dump them, trussed like chickens, into the lighter lying alongside. By then some were regaining consciousness, but on account of their gags and bonds they were unable to express their indignation except by grunting and rolling their eyes.
They pushed off from the ship's side and Tom took the tiller and steered back towards the shore following Dorian's lighter. As they came on to the sand Tom saw Dorian's boat was already on the beach, but nobody was at work loading it. Instead an agitated knot of servants and crew was gathered at the foot of the dunes. Tom jumped down into the shallow water and waded to the shore. He ran up the beach and saw Dorian arguing with the head driver.
What has happened?' Then he saw that Sarah and Yasmini were missing. 'Where are the women?' Tom called.
This idiot has let them go back.' Dorian's tone was edged with desperation.
Go back?' Tom stopped dead and stared at him. 'What do you mean, go back?'
The cart with their luggage broke down in the dunes. The axle snapped. Sarah and Yasmini have taken one of the empty wagons to retch the load.'
'Those mad women!' Tom exploded, and then, with a great effort, brought his temper under control. 'Very well, we must make the best of it. Mansur, take the prisoners up above the high-water mark. Do not untie them. Leave them there for Keyser to find in the morning. Then load these goods into the first lighter.' He pointed at the remaining boxes and crates piled on the beach. 'Send them out to the ships with the crew from the Maid of York. Thank the good Lord we have the gold chests on board already.'
'What shall I do after that?' asked Mansur.
'You have charge here at the landing. Wait with the second boat. Be ready to load up and launch as soon as we return with the women.' Mansur ran to obey, and Tom turned back to Dorian. 'Come, brother, you and I will go to fetch the sweet chickens that have flown the coop.'
They hurried to the horses. 'Loosen your blade in its scabbard, and make sure both your pistols are charged, Dorry. I like this turn in the road not at all,' Tom muttered, as they mounted. He took his own advice, loosened the blue sword in its scabbard, drew the pistols from the holsters on the front of his saddle, checked them, then thrust them back again.
'Come!' he said, and the two galloped back along the sandy track. Tom was expecting at any moment to come across the stranded cart, but when they rode down out of the dunes and started up through the paddocks towards the homestead they had still not found it.
'If the cart did not get very far,' Dorian muttered, 'you cannot place much blame on the driver. It collapsed under that great mountain of female baggage.'
'We should have packed it on the larger wagon.'
'The ladies would not have it so,' Dorian reminded him. 'They did not want their treasures contaminated by sharing the ride with common goods.'
'I see no call for levity in this, brother. Time runs us short.' Tom looked up at the eastern sky, but there was
