Serving Shaka by Gareth Williams

Author:Gareth Williams [Williams, Gareth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: The Conrad Press

Chapter Seven

April 1817

Richard is glad he has English Bill with him. Although his Zulu is improving, his sentences are simple and slow. He muddles the click sounds and two of them elude him completely. He cannot imagine conducting his task with such limited tools. More than that, Bill understands the marriage traditions among the closely-related clans of the south-eastern shore. He should do, having married seven times!

Their journey starts before dawn at the gates of Bulawayo. Faint ribbons of mist shrouding the river as the weak pre-dawn light begins to banish the black of a moonless night.

Bill seems happy to escape the confines of Bulawayo for a few days but he insists on bringing his two youngest wives, claiming he cannot bear to be parted from them. As far as Richard can see, the real reason is to have someone carry his luggage. The pair walk for hour after hour, through the fleeting flush of autumn blooms, without complaint.

‘How far have we come?’ asks Richard, recognising a rock reminiscent of a seated lion. He thinks he saw it on the way to the E-Langeni capital with Shaka’s army.

‘Perhaps half the distance to Esiweni, the main town of Makedama’s people,’ English Bill replies.

Richard looks up. The sun is at its zenith, bathing the distinctive rock in a reddish glow. English Bill spits with practised force, his jet of stained saliva puddling on the dusty ground.

‘Will we make it today?’ Richard enquires. He is enjoying the journey. His body is firm and fit. Stronger than it has ever been. His boots are soft and supple and his feet are free of blisters.

‘Half the day is spent and half the distance covered. We are close to the pass through the hills,’ offers English Bill.

Richard understands his meaning. ‘If we maintain our pace, we will get there before dark?’

‘Perhaps,’ concedes English Bill, the much older man, hunched and lined but as resilient as old oak.

Richard is wary of the bush after sundown since that first night on the beach. In his head, lions lurk everywhere, emboldened by the darkness, awaiting their moment to finish the job another pride started.

He fingers the leather strap on his shoulder, feeling the weight of the long musket he carries. Widening his strides, Richard squints through the brightness of the day, feet tackling the incline eagerly.

As the autumnal sun dips, its pale-lemon circumference dissolves along the horizon. Dusk flushes the world with deeper shadows, chasing the remnants of the light into corners where it expires.

Night is falling. The hairs on the back of Richard’s neck stir, and he shivers, even though there is warmth left in the air. The hills are behind them. The grassland stretches ahead in the gathering dark.

‘We are close,’ Bill announces. ‘I will go first and announce us.’ He tries to straighten his crooked back with little effect. He chatters rapidly to his two young wives and sets off.

After five minutes traversing soft grassland, it gives way to dustier ground and Richard makes out the smeared outline of a palisade surrounding the town.

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