Warrior

word for 'lion'?'

'Intestinal beetle.'

He laughed. Campaigning was a hard business, but not always grim. 'Beetle?'

'Shaka was born out of wedlock, which many believe to have been his driving shame – that and the harsh treatment of his mother. When Nandi appeared to be with child she protested that it was merely I- Shaka, the beetle which suppressed the menses.'

'I wonder he did not change his name to something nobler.'

'He had no need. The Zulu have a custom – hlonipa, which, if you do not know it,' (he said this with a certain wryness) 'means 'modesty' – whereby they devise another word for the everyday where it is also the name of a warrior of rank.'

Hervey shook his head in mock disbelief, and in admiration of Somervile's learning. 'Huzoor, do I have your leave to carry on?'

'Carry on.'

He turned in the saddle to see where was Brereton, but he was not in his place at the head of the troop. He beckoned forward Cornet Kemmis instead. 'The troop leader?'

'He fell rear, Colonel; to speak with the sar'nt-major.'

Hervey frowned. There was nothing so very wrong in Brereton's falling to the rear, except that if he wanted to speak with the serjeant-major he could as well have summoned him forward. And when they halted, he ought to have come forward again at once in expectation of orders . . . 'Have the troop form line. We shall make our approach from here. You understood the design?'

'Perfectly, Colonel.'

Hervey nodded, then turned forward in the saddle again. Kemmis's answer was confident, and one in which he, Hervey, at once had confidence. A cornet not long out of the military college possessed of a more natural air of command than his captain, ten years his senior – these things were unaccountable.

Up came Welsh. 'Riflemen all ready, Colonel.'

By which he meant loaded. The dragoons, on the other hand, would have more time to make ready their carbines, and so Hervey intended keeping them unprimed; there was no more damnable a business than having to draw unused charges, or risking accidental discharge (this was no time for a spark in the brushwood, literally or otherwise).

He gave the executive order.

The troop fronted with impressive speed, and the riflemen formed skirmish line at the foot of the rise, dismounting and standing steady, waiting for the lieutenant-governor's party to begin their procession to the sango.

Hervey nodded, well pleased. He reckoned that any observer would be impressed by the handiness of his little force. The Zulu had their regularity, the feathers, the animal skins, the cowhides of the war shields, but a line of blue coats and white-covered shakos: altogether different. And if they had heard of Umtata, how they must respect the rifle, the sabre, and the fleetness of the horse.

Somervile's party advanced without speaking.

The skulls of two gigantic bull elephants atop crudely carved baobab pillars marked the saluting point. A guard of honour – Fasimba – lined the swept path to the entrance.

Shaka's chamberlain, Mbopa, shorter by head and shoulders than any of the Fasimba, and markedly stouter, came out from the kraal.

The party dismounted.

Fairbrother, with only a little assistance from Mbopa's interpreter, a man of indeterminate but very mixed blood, presented the King's respects, and explained that they brought with them but small tokens of that esteem in advance of many more substantial ones.

Mbopa assured them that Shaka was aware of the King's respect, and that they would enjoy his hospitality for as long as they wished it. They would first eat and drink, and then be brought into his royal presence.

Somervile spoke a few words in return, all politeness, intending to convey the dignity of the Crown and the confidence of the embassy, and presented Hervey as the King's military representative.

Mbopa bowed, and indicated the Fasimba to left and right, witness to his own king's esteem for his visitors.

Hervey took advantage of his newly exalted status to request that his 'royal guards' (the riflemen) be allowed to accompany them.

'It would be our honour,' Mbopa replied.

The kraal was half a mile and more across, and by Hervey's rapid estimate there were as many huts in its outer circle as there were men in a battalion of the Line – eight hundred at least, ample quarters for two thousand warriors and for all the husbandry necessary to the life of Shaka's headquarters. In turn, these encircled the central cattle-fold and another, lower palisade. At the far end of the kraal, as in the Fasimba ikhanda, were the royal quarters, the isigodlo, hedged around by the thickest thorn. Here was Shaka's ndlunkulu, larger even than the great council hut which stood outside.

As they made their way there, Hervey saw that the warriors' huts were empty. Perhaps he might have expected it (why else would Shaka send the herd boys to the Fasimba kraal to be executed?), for the campaign against Soshangane could not be waged without warriors, and even Shaka's legions were not limitless. He suddenly felt less like a fox among hounds, and more like a cock which enters the pit with a fighting chance.

At the entrance to the isigodlo the guards held up their spears in salute. Hervey told Welsh to form here with his riflemen, and then Mbopa led the rest of the party through the opening in the thorn fence and into one of the smaller huts.