Wilbur Smith - Assegai

They were silent for a while, then Eva could contain herself no longer. ‘Now that you know about me, do you despise me?’

Her voice was muted and her expression stricken. He reached out to her with both hands and cupped her face, gazing into her eyes so that she could see the truth of what he was about to tell her. ‘Nothing you have done, or ever will do, could make me despise you. You have let me into your soul and I have found only goodness and beauty there. You must remember also that when you look at me you are not looking at a saint. It was you who told me we are both soldiers. I have killed men in the name of duty and, like you, I have done many other things that I’m ashamed of. None of that matters. All that matters is that we are together now and we love each other.’ With his thumb he gently wiped away the tear.

At last she smiled. ‘You’re right. We love each other and we have each other. That is all that matters.’

The funeral procession stretched the full length of Unter den Linden. As the head of it reached the Brandenburg Palace the tail was out of sight at the far end of the boulevard. It was a wet, grey day, and the mourners lined both sides of the road, ten persons deep, under the drizzle. They were silent, except for the women’s weeping. A single drummer tapped out the Death March. A full squadron of cavalry led the procession: the hoofs of their horses clattered on the paving, and the pale light reflected dully from the blades of the drawn sabres. Eva stood in the front rank of mourners. She wore full-length black leather gloves, and a hat with black ostrich feathers on the crown. A black veil covered her eyes and the top half of her face.

Kaiser Wilhelm II rode his black charger ahead of the gun carriage that bore the coffin. He wore a shining spiked helmet with a golden chain chinstrap, and his black cloak was flared back from his shoulders over the rump of his mount. His expression was fiercely tragic. A team of magnificent black horses drew the gun carriage. The coffin upon it was enormous and made of transparent crystal so that Otto von Meerbach’s corpse was clearly visible to the mourners. He was dressed in the costume of a Roman emperor with a crown of laurel leaves on his head. In each of his great hairy fists he held an assegai , the blades crossed over his chest. Incongruously a Cuban cigar was clamped between his teeth.

Eva was filled with a consuming joy and a profound sense of relief. Otto was dead. The nightmare was over and she was free to go to Leon. Lying in his crystal coffin Otto opened one eye, looked directly at her and blew a perfect smoke-ring. She began to laugh, she could not stop, and the bell-like peals rang out across Unter den Linden.

Kaiser Wilhelm turned in his saddle and glared at her. Then he urged his horse forward and leaned over her to reprimand her. ‘Wake up, Eva!’ he told her sternly. ‘Wake up. You’re dreaming!’

‘Otto is dead!’ she answered him. ‘It will be all right now. Now they will have to let me go. I will be free. It’s over.’

‘Wake up, my darling,’ said the Kaiser, and leaned out from the saddle to take her by the shoulder and shake her briskly. The fact that he was the Emperor of Germany and that she had been presented to him at court on more than one occasion was no excuse for such familiar behaviour. She was quite offended. How dare he call her ‘darling’?

‘I am Leon’s darling, not yours!’ she told him primly, and sat up. Leon had lit the candle, so it was light enough in the hut on Lonsonyo Mountain for her to make out his face close to hers and see his anxious expression. ‘Otto is dead,’ she told him.

‘You were dreaming, Eva.’

‘I saw him, darling Badger. He really is dead.’ She paused to consider this statement. ‘Even if my dream was a fantasy, even if he is out there somewhere, living and breathing, for me he is dead. He no longer means anything to me. I don’t even hate him any longer. Now that I’ve found love with you, there is no place in my life for barren emotions like hatred and revenge.’

She reached out for him, and he took her within the circle of his arms and held her tightly. ‘Together we will transform all this ugliness into something bright and beautiful,’ he promised.

‘I want you to take me to Lusima Mama,’ she whispered. ‘The very first time you spoke of her I felt as though I already knew her. I have a strange feeling that I am spiritually connected to her. Somehow I know that she holds the key to our happiness.’

‘We will go to her today, as soon as it is light enough to take the pathway to the summit.’

Manyoro and Loikot warned Leon that the last section was too steep and narrow for the horses so he sent Ishmael and the groom back down to the base of the mountain with orders to circle to the southern side and bring the horses up along the easier, more familiar route.

Once they had disappeared, Leon, Eva and the two Masai started up the track beside the waterfall. The way became more difficult with every step they climbed. At some places they were forced to traverse the face of the mountain on ledges along which only one could pass at a time, and always the exposure to height became more severe. For the most part the waterfall was hidden by rock, but twice as they edged around a buttress they were presented with a spectacle that bated their breath. The torrent seemed to swirl around them in silvery sheets, confounding their senses. The rocky walls and the shelf under their feet were wet and slippery with a coating of slimy algae. Their upward progress became more and more laborious.

The sun was reaching its noon when they came out on the plateau of the summit. Manyoro and Loikot sought shade under one of the trees and threw themselves down to rest and take a little snuff. Leon led Eva by the hand to the brink of the precipice. There they sat together with their feet dangling over the void. Leon picked up a pebble the size of his fist that had cracked from the ledge on which they sat and dropped it over the edge. They watched with fascination as it fell three hundred feet without touching the rock wall. The tiny splash it made as it struck the surface of the pool was barely apparent in the tumultuous waters. Neither spoke, for words seemed superfluous in the midst of such splendour. At last Manyoro called them and, reluctantly, they stood up and backed away from the void.

‘How far to Lusima Mama’s manyatta ?’ Leon asked.

‘Not far,’ replied Loikot. ‘We will be there before sunset.’

‘A mere stroll of twenty miles or so.’ Leon smiled. ‘Let’s go.’ The two Masai picked out the overgrown pathway unerringly and set an easy pace. For once there was no hurry and the three men could enjoy their surroundings, which seemed so remote from the floor of the Rift Valley. It was Eva’s first visit to the mountain, so the scenery and vegetation fascinated her. She delighted in the flowering orchids that hung in festoons from the high branches of the rainforest trees, and laughed at the antics of the Colobus monkeys that scolded them as they passed. Once they stopped to listen as a herd of heavy animals crashed away through the undergrowth, alarmed by their presence.

‘Buffalo.’ Leon answered her silent question. ‘There are some enormous brutes up here in the mist.’

At one point they descended into a steep gorge and climbed up the far side to reach an open tableland as flat as a polo ground and devoid of trees. At one end the cliff fell away abruptly for hundreds of feet. A pair of large, reddish antelopes stood against the forest at the opposite end of the clearing. Creamy stripes were emblazoned across their shoulders and their ears were large and trumpet-shaped. Their horns were massive black spirals with sharp white tips. ‘How beautiful they are!’ Eva exclaimed, and at the sound of her voice they slipped into the forest, without disturbing a leaf of the dense shrubbery. ‘What were they?’