Wilbur Smith - Assegai

‘To get back to Africa and the man I love. This is all I desire. Please, dear God, have mercy on me,’ she prayed aloud.

Leon spent the morning in conference with Hugh Delamere and his other officers. The little man had thrown himself whole-heartedly into the formation and training of his tiny force. Already he had raised more than two hundred troopers and had mounted and equipped them from his own pocket. Delamere was renowned throughout the colony for his energy and enthusiasm, but keeping pace with him was exhausting. It had taken Delamere less than two weeks to bully and cajole the regiment into a state of campaign readiness. Now he wanted an enemy to fight and had turned to Leon to find one.

‘You’re the only pilot we have, Courtney. Our border with the Hun is long and the bush is thick. I agree with you that the best way to keep an eye open for the movements of von Lettow and his askaris is from the air. You have the job. My guess is that he will try to reach Nairobi by forced marches up the Rift Valley from the main German base at Arusha. I want you to fly regular reconnaissance patrols from Percy’s Camp. I also know you have a network of Masai chungaji keeping watch for elephant coming into your area. You should let your boys know that, for the time being, we are more interested in the Hun than in ivory.’

By noon Leon’s notebook was half filled with his lordship’s orders and instructions. Delamere dismissed his officers for lunch with orders to return promptly at fourteen hundred hours. His lordship enjoyed his food and his siesta, so two hours was plenty of time to get out to the club for a bite of lunch and back again before Delamere ordered him flogged. But when he strode out into the street Latika was waiting for him by the hitching rail in front of the bank. She was feeding his horse with sugar cubes, which both of them were enjoying.

‘Hello, Lollipop. Did you come to see me or my horse?’

‘My daddy sent me to give this to you.’ She pulled a sealed buff envelope from her apron pocket and offered it to him. She watched his face as he opened it and read the cablegram. ‘Is it a letter from someone who loves you?’ she asked wistfully.

‘How did you know that?’

‘Do you love her back?’

‘Yes, very much.’

‘Don’t forget I love you too,’ she whispered, and he saw she was close to tears.

‘Then you won’t mind if I give you a ride home on horseback, will you?’

Latika sniffed back her tears and forgot her potential rival. Mounted up behind him, she chattered happily all the way to her father’s shop.

Mr Goolam Vilabjhi Esquire came out on to the pavement to welcome them. ‘Welcome! Welcome! Mrs Vilabjhi is serving her world-famous chicken curry and saffron rice for lunch. She will be cross and sad if you do not sample it with us.’

While Mrs Vilabjhi and her daughters put the finishing touches to the luncheon table, Leon went to stand in front of the bookshelf and ran his eye over the display of books. Then he grunted with satisfaction and took a copy of Macmillan’s English Dictionary from the upper shelf. ‘May I borrow this for a while?’ he asked.

Mr Vilabjhi touched the side of his nose with a finger and looked knowing. ‘General Ballantyne kept a copy of that book on his desk. It was the first thing he reached for whenever I took him a cable from Switzerland. Maybe Memsahib von Wellberg has sent you the code.’ Then he covered both ears with his hands and said, ‘But do not tell me about it. I am like the monkey who hears no evil. We secret agents must always be discreet.’

The curry was exquisite but Leon, eager to compose his response to Eva, hardly tasted it. As soon as the girls were clearing away the empty dishes he sequestered himself in Mr Vilabhji’s office and, within twenty minutes, had encoded a message to be sent to Eva. He began with a fervent protestation of his love, then explained Penrod’s absence and went on, ‘With my uncle transferred to Cairo I am left in the dark stop I need to have all intelligence that you have in your possession stop Eternal love stop Badger.’

Four days later he received Eva’s reply. He sat in Mr Vilabjhi’s office using the dictionary to decode it. She had briefly outlined the information she had gleaned during the flying visit with Otto and Hennie to German African territory to meet von Lettow Vorbeck and Koos de la Rey. She explained the plot to raise a rebellion in South Africa at the outbreak of war, and listed the materials and stores for which de la Rey had appealed and that Graf Otto had promised to deliver.

When he read the inventory Leon whistled softly. ‘Five million German marks in gold coin! That’s the equivalent of almost two million pounds sterling. Enough to buy the whole damned African continent, let alone just the tip.’ He sat back in Mr Vilabjhi’s chair and pondered the possibility of such an audacious scheme succeeding. He remembered the deeply rooted anger and bitterness that had infected Hennie du Rand and thought, There are a hundred thousand other Boers just like him, trained and battle-hardened soldiers. Given the means, they could seize the entire country within days. Damned right the plot could succeed. But is there any way we can prevent it?

Mr Goolam Vilabjhi appeared in the doorway. ‘Another message has just arrived.’ He came to the desk and laid the envelope in front of Leon.

Leon worked quickly with the dictionary, then leaned back in his chair. ‘Airship! Not by ship but by bloody great airship, and my little darling has discovered the exact route they will fly. If only she could tell us when they plan to come.’

When the house party finished breakfast Graf Otto led them down the steps to the Schloss , where five elephantine black Meerbach touring limousines were drawn up. There were five high-ranking officers from the War Office in Berlin, all accompanied by their wives. The women were dressed as though they were off to the races, with parasols and feathered hats, the men in dress uniform, with swords hanging on their belts, their chests glittering with medals and diamond-studded orders. Etiquette was so strictly observed that it took time to get them into the waiting vehicles without violating military orders of precedence, but finally Eva found herself in the third car with an admiral of the fleet and his large, horsy wife as her companions.

It was a twenty-minute drive to the main Meerbach factory, and as he approached the main gate in the high barbed-wire fence that surrounded it Graf Otto, at the wheel of the leading limousine, sounded his horn. The gates swung open and the guards presented arms, then stood stiffly to attention as the convoy rolled through.

This was Eva’s first visit to the citadel at the centre of the Meerbach engineering empire, which sprawled over an area of almost twelve square kilometres. The streets were paved with cobblestones, and in the square in front of the administrative headquarters a magnificent marble fountain shot water fifty feet into the air. The three sheds that housed the fleet of dirigibles stood at the furthest corner of the complex. She was unprepared for their sheer size: they seemed as tall and commodious as Gothic cathedrals.

The weather was delightfully sunny and warm as the party dismounted before the high, rolling doors of the central building and made their way to the row of armchairs set out for them under spreading umbrellas, which all bore the coat of arms of the House of Meerbach. When they were seated, three waiters in white jackets came down the row carrying silver trays laden with crystal glasses of champagne. When everyone had a glass in hand, Graf Otto mounted the dais and gave a short but pithy speech of welcome. Then he went on to set out his own vision of the role his dirigibles were destined to play during the fateful years ahead.