Warrior

He turned back to Somervile. 'Then what of this child of Shaka's? Is he not the rightful heir?'

'As I understand it,' replied Somervile, and sounding weary at his own incapability, 'the Zulu are not a people with settled precedent in these matters. More's the point: do you see them ruled by a boy? Who would be regent? Regency's a desperate enough affair in the most civilized of nations.'

Hervey pressed him for a conclusion. 'And so we look to our own defence, and withdraw to Port Natal as soon as may be?'

Somervile was still deep in thought, however.

When at last he broke silence, it was with a look that said he was resolved on something novel. 'Our own late regency was perhaps not entirely devoid of merit. Perhaps this is our opportunity to bring order to their benighted affairs, deliver them from error's chain.'

'You mean an English regency?'

'Why not? We have had such arrangements in India.'

Hervey cleared his throat. 'Forgive me, Somervile, but is that within your authority? Would the duke approve?'

'I have certain plenipotentiary powers . . . '

Hervey was still unconvinced. 'Even if that be so, how are we to find the child?'

Fairbrother, beginning to dust himself down, smiled grimly. 'I suspect that all we need do is follow Mbopa's trail, for he will be Herod-like.'

'Or statesmanlike? Himself as regent?'

'He might will it, Sir Eyre, but there's the little problem of his rank. There's Ngomane.'

Somervile nodded, conceding the point. Ngomane was chief minister, Mbopa merely chamberlain. 'He's at his kraal, did not Pampata say – Nonoti?'

'She did.'

'How far is it?'

Hervey took out his map. 'If this is at all faithful, nine or ten miles, but what the country is like, I cannot say.'

'Then we ought to send word there at once.'

Hervey agreed, but he was reluctant, still, to remain so much on the defensive. 'Might we try also to discover the state of affairs here, in the kraal?'

Somervile thought for a moment. 'Very well. We'll go at once.'

Hervey shook his head. 'That would be a needless risk. Fairbrother and I will go.'

Somervile looked faintly vexed at being once more excluded from a more active role in his own embassy, but was wise enough not to object. 'As you wish.' And then he turned again to Fairbrother, seeming to recollect something. 'What did they do with Shaka's body?'

Fairbrother frowned. 'I didn't observe, Sir Eyre. I confess that my head was in a hole.'

'Quite so,' he replied, chastened. 'But I think we must discover it. A king's obsequies should not lightly be set aside.'

They found Pampata kneeling by Shaka's side, alone, rocking to and fro, and moaning softly.

'This is Mbopa's work, I tell you,' she said without rising. 'It is as I foretold. Like the hyena, he circled, waiting.'

'You saw it, Nkosazana, madam, little chieftainess?' asked Fairbrother, gently.

She did not look at them, or move her head this way or that to signify her answer. 'I know it to be true. And then with those other dogs, Dingane and Mhlangana, he crept in for the kill when my lord was pulled down.'

How did she know this? Fairbrother pressed tenderly. 'Who has told you, Nkosazana?'

'My lord tells me.'

Hervey wanted to console her, as he would the widow of one of his own men. He crouched beside her, put an arm around her shoulders and lifted her to her feet, nodding to Fairbrother to cover the body – which he did with the bloody cloak. 'Come, Nkosazana. We shall bear him into the kraal.'

Fairbrother beckoned Serjeant Hardy and his six dragoons.

Hervey stood supporting her as they took up the body.

'Nkosazana,' began Fairbrother, judging it the moment that she would answer truly. 'Do you know where is Shaka's son?'

She understood. But her look of anxiety told him she had misunderstood his purpose. 'Nkosazana . . .' He struggled to find the words. 'We wish to find the boy to make him chief under King George's protection.'

Pampata looked searchingly at him, and then at Hervey. She had trusted them, and yet her lord was dead. Yet what alternative was there? Dingane and Mhlangana would hunt down the child; they would hunt her down. Her peril could be no greater.

The dragoons bore Shaka's body with as much observance as they would one of their own officers, at first