The covenant - James A. Michener [303]
But he had still to face two extreme tests, in one of which lay a bitter irony. In a kraal near his, in which the king kept some four hundred of his wives, there was a girl named Thandi, who had served briefly in a women's regiment before the king selected her to be his wife. Once during a lull in maneuvers Nxumalo had encountered her while she was resting beside the Umfolozi, and they had invited each other to enjoy the pleasures of the road, and several times after that Thandi had contrived to be in the vicinity of the iziCwe, and on two different nights they had run a terrible risk by making real love, with the possibility that she might become pregnant.
He found her so delightful, so fresh in her attitudes, that he had started accumulating cattle to pay her lobola, when the king abruptly chose her for his own. True to his custom, Shaka rarely came near her; once during their years of marriage he had spent part of an evening talking with her, boasting of his prowess in battle, but even though she had listened attentively and said several times, 'How brave you must have been,' she never saw him again. That brief encounter was supposed to suffice for the fifty remaining years she would spend in the royal kraal.
Now, through the agency of servants, she let Nxumalo know that she would brave any death if he were willing to run with her to find some home less pitiful, and one night while Nxumalo was brooding upon this matter, it occurred to him that one of the worst things his king had done was this imprisonment of so many beautiful girls, thus keeping them in fruitless bondage till their years were wasted, and he decided that if with the others he must kill the king, he would at the same time put his life in triple jeopardy by stealing one of the king's wives. In great secrecy he drafted plans, and felt as if life were starting anew when Thandi came boldly to the kraal fence to smile at him, indicating her assent.
Next day came the severest test, for the king abruptly summoned him, and as Nxumalo entered the royal kraal, came toward him with tears in his eyes, and confessed: 'Oh, Nxumalo! In my madness I thought of sending the witch-seekers after you, but now I see that you're my only friend. I need you.'
Before Nxumalo could reply, the king led him to a cool spot and shared a gourd of beer. Then, taking Nxumalo's two hands in his, he said, 'My brothers are plotting against me.'
'Not likely.'
'Oh, but they are. I dreamed I was dead. It's Dingane. I see him whispering. Mark my words, he's not a trustful man.'
'He's of royal blood. He's your brother.'
'But can I trust him?' And without awaiting a reply, Shaka sighed. 'I am cursed. I have no son. No one to trust. I'm growing old, and still the magic oil fails to arrive.'
Nxumalo could feel no sympathy for this slayer of women, and a response too dangerous to utter leaped to his mind: Shaka, you could have had a score of sons. Nine years ago, if you had accepted Thetiwe instead of throwing her at me, you could have had six sons.
Again Shaka gripped Nxumalo's hands. 'You're the one honest man in this nation. Promise me you'll watch over me.'
With a lingering pity Nxumalo looked at the stricken man, this violent giant whose leadership had been corrupted by madness, and as he tried to formulate words that would allow him to depart, the king cried with deep remorse, 'Oh, Nxumalo, it was wrong of me to kill your wives. Forgive me, old friend. I killed them all, and learned nothing.'
'You are forgiven,' Nxumalo said grimly, and with a deep bow he left the royal kraal, marched, ostensibly, back to his own, then slipped away to join the Wild Cat, who was instructing her nephews for the kill. 'Shaka knows your intentions!' he cried. 'He will kill you soon.'
Dingane, although of royal blood, was no Shaka. He lacked courage, and, as the king had said, he could not be trusted. 'What shall we do?'
'Slay him now.'
'Now?'