Hervey shrugged. 'There could scarcely be certainty of anything in these parts.'
Somervile nodded. 'But beyond that: if his army has been fighting the Pondo, might he not believe that this has occasioned alarm in the Colony, and that we are harbingers of war?'
'He might. And with the bulk of his army in the north, he might be, shall we say, nervous?'
'Quite so. It is ironic, is it not, that our advantage would lie in Shaka's army being at Dukuza!'
Hervey frowned. 'Somervile, from what I have learned of the Zulu, Shaka will not have the entire army away either in the north or the south. We place ourselves as hostages to his good will either way. I must remind you that our safety rests ultimately in the speed of the horse.'
' "A horse is a vain thing for safety. Neither shall he deliver any by his great strength." '
'I have always considered that the psalmist must have had other things in mind. We must trust differently.'
Somervile nodded again, but gravely. 'You know, Hervey, there is a line in that play of yours – I mean the Malfi – when one of the courtiers, an old and wise lord – do you recall, Castruchio? – is discussing with the duchess's brother whether a prince might also be a soldier.'
'I recall it.'
'And Castruchio says that while it is fitting for a soldier to become a prince, it is not fitting that a prince descend to be a captain.'
' "That realm is never long in quiet, where the ruler is a soldier." '
'Well remembered. Do you not think it apt?'
'I thought it our design in coming here.'
'It is. But look at the condition of Isaacs: how might we take the measure of Shaka, prince and soldier, without him? Without Mr King it was unpropitious enough! I confess I shall count as much on your judgement, now, as I do on your sword.'
Hervey would have sighed as heavily as his old friend, had he not just been placed upon his quality so. 'These fevers – the malaria – two or three days, that's all. Isaacs will be well. And Fairbrother has enough Xhosa for our purposes. We know it to be not so very different from the Zulu.'
He hoped he sounded more certain than he was.
XIV
ERROR'S CHAINLater
Marching across grassland was always a tedious affair. The dragoons stumbled when they were leading on foot, and there was nothing to mark their progress by, dismounted or mounted. Hervey lapsed into ruminatory silence.
They rested in the afternoon, not long, for it was by no means hot. But Fairbrother was able to rejoin them. His gelding had twisted a shoe just before they set off, and he had wanted the new one hot-fitted. Hervey asked him if he would ride with the scouts in place of Isaacs.
Towards four o'clock they saw the first of distant kraals, if modest sized: umuzi, single homesteads, with small herds of cattle tended by youths and boys. It was a pastoral landscape that once more put Hervey in mind of the Wiltshire plain.
He started singing, beneath his breath:
From Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand,
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver
Their land from error's chain.
He had known the author of those words, Bishop Heber of Calcutta. True, he had tended to avoid his society, but he did respect the evident sincerity in wishing to share the gospel with a country that, in the end, had been the death of him – martyr to a climate his constitution was not equipped to brave. But 'India's coral strand' was at least half welcoming to mission (India, after all, had heard the gospel before England), whereas 'Afric's sunny fountains' and 'palmy plains', from all he had seen so far, appeared decidedly less so. He had certainly heard no one calling to be delivered from 'error's chain'.
His thoughts began to range again as they plodded on.
'Galloper guns,' he said suddenly, out of a silence of a quarter of an hour. 'That is what we must have here. I can't think why we ever did away with them in India.'
Somervile, though startled by the sudden martial turn (they had previously been observing on the habits of egrets) was nevertheless quick to the point. 'I fancy it would not be beyond the capability of the foundry at Cape-town.'
'In such country, seeing how sharp the Zulu move, a galloper would have capital effect, especially with explosive shell, or shrapnel. I for one would trade weight of shot for celerity.'
He wondered that he had not thought of it after Umtata. But then, such thoughts did not always spring from the theoretical contemplation of a problem, or else the men at the Board of Ordnance would have no need of field service; and in any case, the battle at Umtata, after the skirmishing which preceded it, had been as set-piece an affair as any in Spain.
'I will see to it when we return,' he said decidedly, and then he lapsed once more into consideration of 'error's chain'.
Late in the afternoon they reached the southernmost of the Fasimba kraals. Isaacs struggled to the front of the column, despite Somervile's assurance that there was no need. Fasimba, he told them, 'haze', was the name of the regiment of guards – 'Shaka's Own'.
This royal kraal – ikhanda – was bigger than they had seen so far. Isaacs said it was the headquarters of a Fasimba general, and the barracks of the unmarried youths who reported for training there – the inkwebane. It was by no means a great ikhanda, some fifty or so huts, whereas at Dukuza there were a thousand, but the cattle byre had been enlarged to pen the booty-cattle of the Pondoland campaign. He said it would not be prudent to pass by without acknowledging Shaka's man, the induna.
'Isaacs, your devotion to duty is admirable, but . . .'
Isaacs waved a hand, protesting.
Somervile shook his head. Isaacs was not fit to be in the saddle, yet how might they proceed without him – here, especially, the kraal of Shaka's guards? But he had to concede, and he did so with an esteeming smile. 'I am most excessively obliged to you.'
Hervey sent back the order for a close escort of six dragoons, and then with Somervile, Fairbrother and Isaacs, set off down the halfmile of gentle slope for the kraal.
Only as they came close did they see the 'sentinels' flanking the sango, the ceremonial entrance.
Hervey groaned. 'Good God!'
Somervile was as quick to the recognition, but quicker to the necessity for composure. 'Eyes front, I think, Hervey.'
'One of them's a woman!'