Shaka the Great (36 page)

For that which confines her can also be a powerful weapon.

Men speak of feminine wiles … Cha!

When unleashed, its claws unsheathed, full-moon pupils aglow, her impaka rules the night.

And yet …

And yet there is this one.

She rises as the Induna bows, takes his elbow and leads him away from the assembly, where they are still speculating on how Ngwadi or Mgobozi managed to escape from their hut, elude their guards, elude all the sentries patrolling the kraal, slip past those surrounding the king's hut …

“Ma, may I speak?”

Distracted, rehearsing her words, Mnkabayi nods.

“Ma, I think … No, I know how …”

“… how it was done?”

“Yes, Ma.”

“You speak of the snake?”

“Yes, Ma.”

“Good, good, but I say no.”

“Ma?”

Looking around to make sure they are alone, Mnkabayi moves in front of the Induna. “I say no because, truly, this affair was started before you were even born. So you cannot be expected to know how it was done—or why. Although you will shortly witness the consequences.”

“Ma, I do not understand.”

She is looking down, gnawing her lower lip, ignoring his question. “But not suffer,” she murmurs. “You will not suffer, not if the betrayed, the wronged, honors his word to not wrong or betray in turn.”

Her eyes are on the Induna's. “There will be blood, there will be suffering …” Then, as if recognizing him for the first time, she draws back a step.

And yet there is this one …

Pulling together her thoughts, her resolve, she informs the Induna that he must go and find Dingane.

“But, Ma—” He wants to tell her what he has found, but she waves away his words.

He must go and fetch Dingane. Where once to tarry on the road was in the prince's best interests, he must now be encouraged to make haste.

“It is up to you to see he gets here as quickly as possible,” says Mnkabayi, pressing a finger into the Induna's chest. “And, even if he is a prince, he will listen to you because he knows you speak with my words.”

The queen smoothes her breast covering. “But you might have to remind him of this. This thing has come to pass, and when he gets here he is to do as we have discussed.”

Does the Induna understand? When he nods, Mnkabayi asks him to repeat it.

“Good,” she says. “This is very important. And just as you have been a good friend to my nephew, by curbing some of his wilder
instincts, so I expect you to see that he does what is expected of him here, and what he has agreed to do. This is why I'm sending you.”

She regards him a moment. “I know you feel your place is here—but doing what? Shouting loudly? Waving your spear?”

“But, Ma, I have …” Earnest, eager features, desperate to tell her.

This one! Harden your heart.

“Go!”

Harden your heart, because this is another way of ensuring his safety.

“This is how you can best serve your people on this dark day! Gather the supplies you'll need, and go. Leave by the gate Ndlela will show you. Go fetch Dingane, and bring him back.” They will have returned to the capital by then, and he is to bring the prince there.

Does he understand?

Crestfallen, confused countenance, but a nod. “Yes, Ma.”

“Then go!”

When unleashed, claws unsheathed, full-moon pupils aglow, her impaka rules the night, and yet …

And yet, she thinks, as she watches the Induna move away, there is this one.

This one!

Harden your heart!

For while others must fear you and your impaka, this is one
you
have to fear, the more so because he is unaware of the power he has over you.

He was a young man—a warrior and an induna too, but one who some considered too young to hold such a rank—and he had heard
the old tales of the heroes who now marched across the sky on stormy nights. He wanted to prove himself in battle and gather together daring deeds, like the cow tails of the amashoba that made a man seem to grow in stature. He should have been livid, enraged, instead he had been too taken aback by Mnkabayi's dismissal. And that's what it amounted to, he told himself, as he gathered together his sleeping mat and extra spears. He was being dismissed, sent off on an errand which could just as easily have been entrusted to another of Mnkabayi's “favorites.” There was supposed to be a Mthetwa legion out there, getting ready to surround them, and he was being sent away. Was he going to fetch reinforcements? Or appeal for aid to Pakatwayo, chief of the Qwabes? No, he was going to fetch a disgraced prince who, having been cautioned to take his time in returning to EsiKlebeni so as to give Sigujana an opportunity to feel more secure on the throne, had taken this as an opportunity to fornicate his way from there to here. And who …

“And so it is,” says Dingane ten years later. “I boast of my ability to sleep whenever and wherever, and here I sit with my eyes as wide open as an owl's!”

“A bird of ill omen, some say.”

Dingane's shrug says
Look where we are!
“I think we are past worrying about omens,” he remarks. “But where were your own thoughts, old friend?”

“I was remembering the last time I was sent to fetch you, and how angry I was.”

“Understandable,” says Dingane, gazing at the sky. There's a lightening now, just the slightest blush of blue that makes the stars seem brighter. “You expected to die defending Zulu honor. You were like a child denied amasi.”

The Induna chuckles. “This is true.”

Back then, the nation found itself threatened in a way it had never been before. Heirs had bickered and fought, but never had one who was, to all intents and purposes, an outsider, ever come to claim the throne. Shaka was no invader, no usurper, for he was of the Blood (although there are still those who would dispute that), but he might
as well have been an isilwane, for he'd spent most of his life away from the Zulus and could barely even speak their language.

And his coming was presaged by a promise, and an assassination.

Similarities?

We have slaughtered those who dared to march against us, we have broken tyrants and dynasties—but once more we face a threat we have never encountered before.

And, because so little is known of the White Men, they have to be seen as a threat, even though they are greatly outnumbered and have mostly obeyed Shaka's edicts.

And they are here … and an assassin has moved through the ranks around the King. What was the promise? Who made it? Who accepted?

Similarities?

Mnkabayi's involvement—her meddling, as Dingane said earlier—then as now.

Another similarity: he was misled then, so could it be he's been misled now?

There's also a difference, though. Then, when he was sent to fetch Dingane, there was no king. But now he serves Shaka.

Plans, plots, conspiracies … the lookout, the low, urgent voices. Promises and compromises.

An umfazi, a wife, will cover her breasts with a garment made from buckskin and decorated with beadwork bearing a message only her husband can understand. Dingiswayo affecting a “reunion” between a father and a loathed elder son was just one arrangement of beads in an intricate pattern. One that was interwoven with other “meanings” and “messages” the Mthetwa ruler probably wasn't even aware of.

It's like the silence that slowly smothers all the sounds around you, so it takes you a few paces before you realize that something is wrong. Although, in this instance, those paces have been measured in years, in the phases of the moon, the seasons …

Something is wrong …

How like Sambane, the aardvark, his mind seems tonight, with claws and snout burrowing here, burrowing there … And how like ants and termites that Sambane loves are these thoughts he chases in the darkness.

Plots and conspiracies … and that silence. Another kind of enigma to decipher: the silence of the stalker, or the ambush waiting up ahead?

Or something else.

Always another possibility.

One of the things he's learned by serving as Shaka's Shadow, sent around the kingdom to settle disputes, seek out those responsible for breaking Shaka's law: there's always another possibility and it's invariably something you haven't even considered.

As when he met up with Dingane and Mpande, fully expecting to receive complaints and cursing when he delivered Mnkabayi's message to Dingane, the Induna had been surprised at the sense of urgency Dingane had shown. The prince had even helped his younger brother gather together their baggage.

The three reached Senzangakhona's old capital in the late afternoon. Shaka had arrived three days before, they were told, on the day after Mnkabayi had sent the Induna to fetch Dingane. It was proof—not that any was needed—that he had been somewhere close by, awaiting the outcome of the “negotiations” with Sigujana. He came with the Izicwe legion—the Mthetwa regiment he had joined when his age-set was eligible for call-up—which was proof, if any was needed, that he engaged Dingiswayo's backing. However, in his first address to his people, Shaka had made it clear the Mthetwa ruler had intended the legion only as an escort to protect Shaka and his retinue against marauding Ndwandwes …

For he was also the bearer of troubling news: Dingiswayo's spies
had told the Wanderer that Zwide was eyeing Zulu territory. And, having heard of this discord over the accession …

Exaggerated tales, of course, added Shaka for, in truth, what was there to dispute?

But Zwide swallowed such tales the way he liked to say he swallowed kings, maintained Shaka. Believing civil war was in the offing, he was preparing to test the state of Zulu preparedness with raids made to seem like mere acts of banditry. So said Dingiswayo's spies, reported Shaka. If the Zulu response lacked aggression, or in any way showed signs of a divided, indecisive leadership, there was every possibility that these forays would become an all-out invasion …