Warrior King by Wilbur Smith

Warrior King by Wilbur Smith

Author:Wilbur Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Books UK


Hamu returned to the city, leaving Ralph alone in the outer kraal. Ralph stood alone in the dark, watching the stars come out one by one above him. He felt as if he had made some deep, irrevocable decision, committed himself to a path, but what that decision was and where the path would lead, he could not say.

Turning, Ralph crawled through the door of the hut and flopped onto the straw mat. After so long at Shaka’s side, and the drama of the ceremony, all he wanted now was to sleep.

Sleep would not come. His thoughts would not cease. Memories raced through his head as he tossed and turned on the hard mat. As a boy, he had often struggled to sleep, especially after his father died. He remembered endless nights in the monsoon heat, his mother sitting at his bedside and mopping his forehead with a damp cloth. He wished Ann was here now to soothe him.

Memories became dreams. The picture of the house in Devon came into his mind, a grey house against green hills, and soft rain pattering on the windows. In his mind, he strode towards the front door, rain running into his eyes. Ann waited on the doorstep, and when he leaned in to kiss her, her mouth was warm as the sun.

Something rustled by the hut’s door. Someone was coming in. In an instant, Ralph was awake, his dream forgotten. Had an animal got into the kraal? One of the Zulu servants? Or was it one of Dingane’s men come to kill him?

Footsteps padded across the floor, light and steady. Ralph reached out for his knife, but he had been so tired that he had not put it where it should be. He was defenceless.

Before he could move, the intruder threw itself on Ralph. Ralph thrust himself upwards, trying to dislodge his attacker, grabbing for their wrists, expecting a knife.

He heard a shriek as he rolled the intruder over, and an exclamation in Zulu as he pinned them beneath him. Words he could not understand – but a voice he recognised.

‘Thabisa?’

He felt the contours of her body: smooth legs, the small curve of her waist, the heat from her belly and her nipples brushing his chest.

‘Why you here?’ she demanded.

‘This is my hut,’ he said indignantly. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Sleep here.’

‘You are going to stay here? Did Shaka send you?’ She nodded. Shaka must have decided he wanted to keep a close eye on Ralph.

‘You could have looked before you threw yourself on me,’ Ralph said.

Thabisa was unrepentant. ‘You wrong side.’

‘This is my bed.’

‘No. My side here.’ She stretched her arm towards the other side of the hut. ‘You side there.’

‘Says who?’

‘Says always. Woman here. Man there. Man only come woman side when want . . .’ She said a Zulu word that Ralph did not know.

‘What is that?’ he said.

‘Hlobonga.’ She repeated the word. She giggled, but did not say more. Perhaps she did not know the words to explain. Then, suddenly,



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