When the Lion Feeds (15 page)

while he wiped it up with his handkerchief she whispered a barbed reprimand and then laughed gaily at a joke from the moustached gentleman on her right. Garrick shrank miserably back in his chair and forced down the rest of the whisky. Then slowly and exquisitely the glow came upon him, starting deep down inside him and spreading out warmly to the very tips of his fingers.

Have another one, Mr Courtney? Yes, thanks. I'll have the same again, but I think it's my round He had the next drink. They were sitting in deck-chairs on the upper deck in the shelter of the superstructure, there was a moon and the night was warm Someone was talking about chelmsford's Zulu campaign.

You're wrong on that point, Garrick said clearly.

There was a small silence.

I beg your pardon! the speaker glanced at him with surprise. Garrick leaned forward easily in his chair and began talking. There was a stiffness at first but he made a witticism and two of the women laughed.

Garrick's voice strengthened. He gave a quick and deep-sighted resumi of the causes and effects of the war. One of the men asked a question.

It was a sharp one but Garrick saw the essence of it and answered neatly. It was all very clear and he found the words without effort.

YOU must have been there, one of the girls hazarded. My husband was at rorke's Drift, said Ann, quietly, looking at him as though he were a stranger. Lord Chelmsford has cited him for the award of the Victoria cross. We are waiting to hear from London The party was silent again, but with new respect. I think it's my round, Mr Courtney. Yours is whisky, isn't it? Thank you. The dry musty taste of the whisky was less offensive this time; he sipped it thoughtfully and found that there was a faint sweetness in the dry.

As they went down to their staterooms later that night Garrick put his arm around Anna's waist.

What fun you were tonight! she said. Only a reflection of your charm, my darling, I am your mirror. He kissed her cheek and she pulled away, but not violently. You're a tease, Garry Courtney. Garrick slept on his back on the sofa with a smile on his face and no dreams, but in the morning his skin felt tight and dry and there was a small ache behind his eyes.

He went through to the bathroom and cleaned his teeth; it helped a little but the ache behind his eyes was still there. He went back to the drawing-room and rang for the cabin steward. Good morning, sir.

Can you bring me a whisky and soda? Garry asked hesitantly. Certainly, sir. Garry did not put the soda into it but drank it neat, like medicine. Then afterwards miraculously the glow was L there again, warming him. He had hardly dared to hope for it.

He went through to Anna's cabin. She was rosy with sleep, her hair a joyous tangle on the pillow. Good morning, my darling. Garrick stooped over her and kissed her, and his hand moved to cover one of her breasts through the silk of her gown. Garry, you naughty boy. She slapped his wrist, but jokingly.

There was another honeymoon couple aboard returning to their farm near capetown, seventy-five acres of the finest vines on the whole of the cape Peninsula, the man's own words. Anna and Garrick were forced by sheer persistence to accept their invitation to stay with them.

Peter and Jane Hugo were a delightful pair. Very much in love, rich enough, popular and in demand with Capetown society.

With them Anna and Garrick spent an enchanted six weeks.

They went racing at Milnerton.

They swam at Muizenberg in the warm Indian Ocean.

They picnicked at Clifton and ate crayfish, fresh caught and grilled over open coals. They rode to hounds with the Cape Hunt and caught two jackals after a wild day's riding over the Hottentots Holland. They dined at the Fort and Anna danced with the Governor.

They went shopping in the bazaars that were filled with treasures and curiosities from India and the orient, Whatever Anna wanted she was given. Garry bought himself something as well, a silver flask, beautifully worked and set with comelians. It fitted into the inside pocket of his coat without showing a bulge. With its help Garrick was able to keep pace with the rest of the company.

Then the time came for them to leave. The last night there were only the four of them for dinner and it was sad with the regret of present parting, but happy with the memory of shared laughter.

Jane Hugo cried a little when she kissed Anna goodnight. Garry and peter lingered on downstairs until the bottle was finished and then they walked upstairs together and shook hands outside Garry's bedroom. Peter spoke gruffly. Sorry to see you two go. We've got used to having you round. I'll wake you early and we can go out for a last early morning ride before the boat leaves.

Garry changed quietly in the bathroom and went through to the bedroom.

His peg made no sound on the heavily carpeted floor. He crossed to his own bed and sat down to unstrap his peg.

Garry, Anna whispered. Hullo, I thought you were asleep. There was a stirring and Anna's hand came out from under the bedclothes, held towards him in invitation. I was waiting to say goodnight to you.

Garry crossed to her bed, suddenly awkward again. Sit down for a minute, said Anna and he perched on the edge of her bed. Garry, you don't know how much I've enjoyed these last weeks. They've been the happiest days of my whole life. Thank you so much, my husband. She reached up and touched his cheek. She looked small and warm curled up in the bed. Kiss me goodnight, Garry. He leaned forward to touch her forehead with his lips but she moved quickly and took it full on her mouth. You can come in, if you like, she whispered, her mouth still against his. She opened the bedclothes with one hand.

So Garry came to her when the bed was warm, and the wine still sang a little in her head and she was ready in the peculiar passion of early pregnancy. it should have been so wonderfully good.

Impatient now, ready to lead him, she reached down to touch and then stilled into surprised disbelief. Where there should have been hardness, male and arrogant, there was slackness and uncertainty.

Ann, started to laugh. Not even the shotgun blast had hurt as deeply as that laugh. Get out, she said through the cruel laughter. Go to your own bed. Anna and Garrick had been married two full months when they came back to Theunis Kraal. Garrick's arm was out of plaster, Peter hugo's doctor had fixed that for him.

They took the road that by-passed the village and crossed the Baboon stroorn bridge. At the top of the rise Garry pulled the horses to a halt and they looked out across the farm. I can't understand why Ma moved into town, said Garrick. She didn't have to do that. There's plenty of room for everybody at Theunis Kraal. Ann, sat silently and contentedly beside him. She had been relieved when Ada had written to them at Port Natal after they had telegraphed her the news of their marriage.

Young as she was Anna was woman enough to recognize the fact that Ada had never liked her. Oh, she was sweet enough when they met, but Anna found those big dark eyes of hers disconcerting. They looked too deep and she knew they found the things she was trying to hide. We'll have to go and see her as soon as we can. She must come back to the farm, after all Theunis Kraal is her home too, Garrick went on. Annn moved slightly in her seat, let her stay in the house in Lady-burg, let her rot there, but her voice was mild as she answered, Theunis Kraal belongs to you now, Garry, and I'm your wife. Perhaps your stepmother knows what's best. Anna touched his arm and smiled at him, Anyway we'll talk about it some other time. Let's get home now, it's been a long drive and I'm very tired. Immediately concerned, Garrick turned to her. I'm terribly sorry, my dear. How thoughtless of me. He touched the horses with the whip and they went down the slope towards the homestead.

The lawns of Theunis Kraal were green and there were cannas in bloom, red and pink and yellow.

It's beautiM, thought Anna, and it's mine. I'm not poor any more. She looked at the gabled roof and the heavy yellow wood shutters on the windows as the carriage rolled up the drive.

There was a man standing in the shade of the veranda.

Anm and Garrick saw him at the same time. He was tall with shoulders as wide and square as the crosstree of a gallows, he stepped out of the shadow and came down the front steps into the sunlight. He was smiling with white teeth in a brown burnt face; it was the old irresistible smile.

Sean, whispered Anna.

Sean really noticed him for the first time when they stopped to water the horses. They had left Chelmsford's Column the previous noon to scout towards the northeast. It was a tiny patrol, four mounted white men and a half-a-dozen Nongaai, the loyal Native troops from Natal.

He took the reins from Sean's hands. I will hold your horse while you drink. His voice had a resonance to it and Sean's interest quickened.

He looked at the man's face and liked it immediately. The whites of the eyes had no yellow in them and the nose was more Arabic than negroid.

His colour was dark amber and his skin shone with oil.

Sean nodded. There is no word in the Zulu language for thank you, just as there are no words for I am sorry.

Sean knelt beside the stream and drank. The water tasted sweet for he was thirsty; when he stood again there were damp patches on his knees and water dripping from his chin.

He looked at the man who was holding his horse. He wore only a small kilt of civet-cat tails: no rattles nor cloak, no head-dress. His shield was black rawhide and he carried two short stabbing spears. How are you called? Sean asked, noticing the breadth of the man's chest and the way his belly muscles stood out like the static ripples on a windswept beach.

Mbejane. Rhinoceros. For your horn? l The -an chuckled with delight, his masculine vanity tickled. How are you called, Nkosi? Sean courtney. Mbejane's lips formed the name silently and then he shook his head.

ZIt is a difficult name. He never said Sean's name, not once in all the years that were to follow.

Mount up, called Steff Erasmus. Let's get moving.

They swung up onto the horses, gathered the reins and loosened the rifles in the scabbards. The Nongaai who had been stretched out resting on the bank stood up.

Come on, said Steff. He splashed through the stream.

His horse gathered itself and bounded up the far bank and they followed him. They moved in line abreast across the grassland, sitting loose and relaxed in their saddles, the horses trippling smoothly.

At Sean's right stirrup ran the big Zulu, his long extended stride easily pacing Sean's horse. Once in a while Sean dropped his eyes from the horizon and looked down at Mbejane, it was a strangely comforting feeling to have him there.

They camped that night in a shallow valley of grass.

There were no cooking fires; they ate biltong for supper, the black strips of dried salt meat, and washed it down with cold water. We're wasting our time. There hasn't been a sign of Zulu in two days riding, grumbled Bester Klein, one of the troopers. I say we should turn back and rejoin the Column, We're getting farther and farther away from the centre of things, we're going to miss the fun when it starts. Steff erasmus wrapped his bLanket more closely about his shoulders: the night's first chill was on them. Fun, is it? He spat expertly into the darkness. Let them have the fun, if we find the cattle. Don't you mind missing the fighting? Look, you, I've hunted bushmen in the Karroo and the Kalahari, I've fought Xhosas and Fingoes along the Fish river, I went into the mountains after Moshesh and his Basutos. Matabele, Zulu, Bechuana, I've had fun with all of them. Now four or five hundred head of prime cattle will be payment enough for any fun we miss. Steff lay back and adjusted his saddle behind his head. Anyway what makes you think there won't be guards on the herds when we find them. You'll get your fun, I promise you.

How do you know they've got the cattle up here?

insisted Sean. They're here, said Steff, and we'll find them. He turned his head towards Sean. You've got the first watch, keep your eyes open. He tilted his top hat forward over his face, groped with his right hand to make sure his rifle lay beside him and then spoke from under the hat, Goodnight The others settled down into their blankets:

fully dressed, boots on, guns at hand. Sean moved out into the darkness to check the Nongaai pickets.

There was no moon, but the stars were fat and close to earth; they lit the land so that the four grazing horses were dark blobs against the pale grass. Sean circled the camp and found two of his sentries awake and attentive.

He had posted Mbejane on the north side and now he went there. Fifty yards in front of him he picked up the shape of the small bush beside which he had left Mbejane.

Suddenly Sean smiled and sank down onto his hands and knees, he cradled his rifle across the crooks of his elbows and began his stalk. Moving flat along the ground silently, slowly he closed in on the bush. Ten paces from it he stopped and lifted his head, careful to keep the movement inchingly slow. He stared, trying to find the shape of the zulu among the scraggy branches and bunches of leaves.

The point of a stabbing spear pricked him below the ear in the soft of his neck behind the jaw bone. Sean froze but his eyes rolled sideways and in the starlight he saw Mbejane kneeling over him holding the spear.

Does the Nkosi seek me? asked Mbejane solemnly, but there was laughter deep down in his voice. Sean sat up and rubbed the place where the spear had stung him.