Thomas Milner clutches his face and blood drips from between his fingers onto the floor. He watches as Beatrice and Nthebolang leave the house, taking the label from the crate with them. They go to the servant’s hut and lock the door behind them.
‘What have you done?’ Nthebolang asks her, angry now at the realisation of what just took place and what the consequences might be.
‘I’m saving myself and I’m saving you too.’
‘I never asked you to save me,’ Nthebolang says. ‘Especially not like this. Did you bring the Boers here? They might have killed all of us. I don’t need you to save me from anything. I told you I’m leaving with Motsumi.’
‘Yes,’ says Beatrice, ‘that’s what you’ve told me.’
Chapter Thirty-seven
Nthebolang only has to get through the day. The next morning, she and Motsumi will be leaving. After what happened the night before, she knows leaving is the only option. Beatrice has set up a very dangerous game and she doesn’t want to be part of it.
She’s not seen Beatrice since the morning. She wonders where she’s gone. Likely keeping out of Thomas Milner’s way at the moment.
She doesn’t know when Beatrice intends to leave. She still speaks as if Nthebolang’s going with her is a certainty, that her leaving with Motsumi is some silly dream of no consequence.
Beatrice seems to have thought out her plan carefully. She’ll escape and everything will be fine; Nthebolang doesn’t need to worry. Elizabeth will be fine too. They’ll go to Beatrice’s people, and there Elizabeth will find others who will love her and take care of her even if Beatrice cannot.
Nthebolang lies back and rubs her stomach. She thinks about the life she’ll have with Motsumi far away from Ntsweng. After years of loving him, they will be free to tell the world. He’s finally brave enough, committed enough, to love her – to choose her. It makes her very happy to think of it.
Nthebolang wakes long before sunrise. Her mother is snoring softly next to her. She gets up quietly. She packed what she’s taking with her the day before while she was alone in the hut. It’s too early to leave, but she doesn’t want to chance someone waking and finding her, so she straps the bag to her back with a blanket, and carefully and quietly leaves the hut. She looks back at her mother and tries to stop her heart from aching. She will come back for her soon, she tells herself.
It’s still cool outside. It’ll be an hour or more before Motsumi gets to the koppie, but she’ll wait for him. She walks slowly through the bush to their spot. She feels better than the day before. Resting has helped, but she’s not perfect yet. She can feel a weakness inside her; the trek up the hill to the cave and then the drama with the Boers and Thomas Milner are still affecting her. She hopes she’ll manage the travelling. They will need to leave straight away and keep moving to put enough distance between them and Ntsweng. She’ll need to be strong.
She hides her bag between the stones and sits down in front of it, covering herself with the blanket she’s brought. Motsumi will find her there because he’ll come looking for her, but no one else will – she’s hidden. She soon falls asleep.
When she wakes, she’s confused. The sun is high in the sky, beating down on her, making her hot. That’s what woke her, the heat. She looks around. Where’s Motsumi? He hasn’t come; that’s clear. What has happened to him?
She decides it’s best to wait – perhaps something has held him up. She spends the day hidden between the rocks. She has some water and food for the trip. She sleeps off and on. He’ll come when it’s dark or, at worst, by early morning the following day.
She waits through the hot day and the cold night. She waits through the next day’s sunrise and until the sun is high, heating yet another day in which Motsumi has not come for her. She waits and waits, and each hour steals away another piece of her dream life. When the sun lowers yet again in the western sky, only the hard reality of the situation persists. They’ll not be leaving. Something has gone wrong. She gathers up her things and reluctantly heads back to the mission house.
Chapter Thirty-eight
It’s dark when she arrives. Thomas Milner is standing at the gate staring in the direction of the village. It’s as if he’s been waiting for her.
‘The wayward lamb has returned,’ he says.
Nthebolang walks around him where he stands in her path, saying nothing. He grabs her arm.
‘Rumour in the village says you were running away with the kgosana’s son. Is it true? Were you running? Leaving Beatrice to play out your wicked game alone?’
‘It’s not my game. It’s hers.’
‘So it’s true then. You’re like all the other heathens. Running away with a boy, unmarried. Pregnant, I hear too. And you, acting all pious. You could not be with me because you’re a Christian, you said, but some village boy is good enough. Oh, how complicated and full of sin you are.’ He’s still holding her arm tightly. His face is close, his eyes bulbous with rage, his breath hot on her face.
‘Just like you,’ she spits at him and yanks her arm, trying to get free.
She cares about nothing now. Let him beat her; let him do as he pleases. She’s dry and grey inside, dead. Nothing lies ahead for her. Anything can happen and she’ll be like a stone in its wake, oblivious and immune. What’s life without hope? It is just like this, she thinks.
He pulls her closer to him, gripping her arms until they hurt. His face is so close to hers she can see the bloody veins in his eyes, the dry cracks in his lips. He whispers in a small, deadly voice, ‘You don’t know me. Make no presumptions – they may come back to harm you … or those you care about.’
He lets go of her and she stumbles. She escapes to the servant’s hut, her heart pounding. She finds Beatrice there with Mma Nthebolang.
‘Oh, blessed Lord, you have listened to my prayers,’ says Nthebolang’s mother. ‘We thought they took you too. The village has gone mad.’
Nthebolang sits down, exhausted, not up to her mother’s dramatics.
‘Took me too? What do you mean?’ she finally asks after she has calmed down enough to listen to her mother’s words.
‘Your Motsumi,’ her mother says.
Nthebolang looks at Beatrice who is sitting quietly at the table. It’s late. The encounter at the gate with Thomas Milner has depleted her last reserves of energy. She has no time for games.
‘What is it, Mme? Tell me. What are you talking about?’
‘It’s Motsumi. They’ve taken him. They say he’s a witch; they say he killed his brother. He’ll be executed – that’s what they’re saying in the village. He’ll be executed for what he’s done. I’m so glad you were not caught with him. They would have killed you too.’
‘Where have they taken him?’ Nthebolang asks, panicked. Beatrice remains silent and Nthebolang can’t understand why but doesn’t have the time to interrogate it further.
‘There’s to be a trial. He’s being held somewhere until then. They found him trying to leave the village. They said he was running away from facing his crime, more evidence of his guilt. They caught him with provisions, a wagon, some horses. Now they’re going to hold a trial. I’m sorry, ngwanake. It doesn’t look good.’
‘But he’s not a witch. Who’s saying that? He’s not the one who killed Baatweng. I’m sure it was Seabe, Seabe and Mmapitse and Barobi. They want to kill me too.’
Nthebolang is crying now. The injustice of it is overwhelming. She can’t believe that this is happening again. It must be stopped. Another innocent man can’t be killed because of rumours and lies. She turns, suddenly furious, to Beatrice.
‘You know it, Beatrice. You saw them too. You know Motsumi is innocent, just as I do. You know they want to kill me too! Why do you keep silent?’
Mma Nthebolang looks at Beatrice. ‘What is she talking about, Madam? Do you know what she’s talking about?’
‘She’s just upset,’ says Beatrice calmly, placing her hands in front of her on the table. ‘Nthebolang, you’re tired. You
should sleep.’ She smiles at Mma Nthebolang. ‘I’ll take her with me – she’ll calm down once she’s with Elizabeth. Come and sleep in the house with me, Nthebolang.’
Beatrice reaches out for her, but Nthebolang slaps her hand away.
‘No! I’ll not do it. Why won’t you tell the truth? You saw them on the path coming from the cave. You heard them talking of eating Baatweng’s flesh. Why will you not save Motsumi by speaking out? Kgosi Sechele will believe you. He’ll never believe me, the daughter of a convicted witch, the lover of the accused, but he’ll believe you!’
Beatrice goes to the door, ignoring Nthebolang’s pleas. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow, when you’re calmer. We’ll talk then. You need to sleep now.’ She opens the door and leaves.
Nthebolang shouts at the closed door, ‘Tomorrow may be too late! They might throw him down the cave tomorrow!’
Her mother takes her to her mat and forces her to lie down. She cries herself to sleep, a sleep where demons dance and witches are saved. Where Motsumi falls for eternity.
When she wakes in the morning, Nthebolang knows she has no choice. She must go to Kgosi Sechele. She’ll tell him everything. Maybe it will be enough to create some doubt, to at least stop Motsumi from being executed. Maybe he’ll only be banished from the kingdom. That will be fine – they’re leaving anyway. They have no intention of ever coming back to Ntsweng. She’ll tell Kgosi Sechele everything. He’ll listen; he’s a wise leader. He will see that Motsumi is innocent and everything will be restored to how it was meant to be.
She washes and then heads for the kgotla. Everything is clear now. All the doubts about what she should do, about whether she should trust Motsumi, if she should leave with Beatrice, her doubts about her own thoughts – all of them have disappeared. Her mind is made up. She must save Motsumi, the man she loves. She may be the only one who can.
Chapter Thirty-nine
At the kgotla, Nthebolang finds Kgosi Sechele sitting with his brother Kgosidintsi. Kgosi Sechele looks all of his seventy-plus years. There have been rumours that the Boers are planning an attack. They want their revenge against the Bakwena. It could come at any time and the village must be prepared.
Nthebolang wonders whether Thomas Milner has told Kgosi Sechele about the Boers’ visit the other night. That would likely add even more problems for everyone. The stress of waiting for war is taking its toll on their leader: his skin sags, and he has dark circles underneath his eyes. He has fought the Boers before and won, but war is still a heavy burden. He leans back in his low wooden chair as if he wishes he might never have to rise again. He believes in fairness. It was unfair when the Boers took their cattle and their women and children. The Bakwena only righted the scales. But now the Boers want to attack them again. For what? What world allows that? His face shows the weariness he’s feeling. The lives of his people are in his hands and this is not a responsibility he has ever taken lightly.
‘Dumelang, Kgosi,’ Nthebolang says as she approaches them.
He nods that she should sit. Kgosidintsi, who was dozing next to him, wakes up when he hears her.
‘What do you want, girl? We’re dealing with serious things at the moment,’ Kgosidintsi says.
‘I want to speak of serious things as well, Rra.’ She’s come this far; she’ll not be turned back now. He’ll not frighten her away.
‘Speak,’ says Kgosi Sechele.
‘I am here to speak on Motsumi’s behalf, the one you have accused of witchcraft.’
‘Are you not the girl from the mission house?’ Kgosi Sechele asks.
‘Ee, Kgosi.’
‘What is your connection with this boy?’
‘We’re to marry. We love each other.’
Kgosidintsi scowls and turns to his brother. ‘Then there is little we can believe of what she says. Let her go. A silly girl.’
‘Perhaps, but we will let her speak anyway,’ Kgosi Sechele says in a weary voice. ‘Speak what you must.’
‘Terrible things have been happening in the village. I don’t know what to call them since I’m a Christian. These things are not supposed to exist, but, from what has happened, something is there – something that cannot be explained. It’s covering the village. It did not come on its own. It was brought here by people, and those people are to blame for what has occurred.’
Kgosi Sechele leans forward to hear better; his brother is now interested too.
Nthebolang is not sure where to start. ‘You think Motsumi killed his brother, that he used witchcraft to kill his brother so that he could become kgosi, so that he could inherit everything from his father. But that can’t be. We were leaving this place. That day when he was captured, he was coming to me. We were leaving this place forever. I was waiting for him; for two days I waited for him. We were heading north to marry and live. He was leaving everything here behind. I carry his child. We were going to make a new life elsewhere. Why would he kill his brother for things he would never need? Things he did not want?’
King Sechele nods, as if agreeing. Nthebolang gains strength from this. He’s listening; he’ll understand.
‘I know what was going on. His mother and the woman meant to be his wife, Seabe, wanted Motsumi to see someone. I know now that man was Barobi. They wanted him to organise for medicine, muti, to be used on his brother. They wanted to bewitch him. Motsumi refused. He told his mother never to speak of it again.’
‘So he knew what was being planned but told no one?’ Kgosi Sechele asks.
‘He told me.’ Nthebolang remembers suddenly and blurts out, ‘And he told Reverend Milner. Reverend Milner knows all of this. He talked to Motsumi about it; he told him not to worry because witchcraft did not exist. That Baatweng would be fine. But he wasn’t. It means they did it behind Motsumi’s back, without his consent or involvement.’
‘Who are the “they” that you are accusing, girl?’ Kgosidintsi asks her. ‘You must be very careful because these are serious allegations.’
‘I don’t know about Motsumi’s mother; I cannot say anything about her. But I know about the others. I saw them with my own eyes doing horrible, evil things. I heard them speaking of their deeds. I know they are now after me. They want to bewitch me. They want to kill me.’
‘You?’ the kgosi asks. ‘Why?’
‘Because she knows Motsumi loves me, not her. She knows that I carry his child – that we’re leaving together.’
‘She?’ Kgosidintsi asks.
‘Yes, Seabe. We saw her with Barobi and Mmapitse in the cave. They were … They were dancing with the dead from the hole. You might not believe me, but we saw it. It was horrible … so vile and evil that I tremble to think of it now. They ate pieces of human flesh, Baatweng’s I think, and then they danced with the dead from the hole at the back of the cave.’
‘This girl is lost. She’s not right. I think we must call her mother.’ Kgosidintsi is clearly disgusted by the waste of their time. ‘This girl is mad. We cannot waste time listening to such things. We have serious problems with the Boers to attend to.’
Kgosi Sechele puts a hand on his brother’s arm to stop him. ‘No, wait. I want to hear all of this. Go on.’
‘Beatrice … Mma Milner wanted to see the cave. I told her about it, about the bats that sleep there in the day. She begged me to show her. So we went. We were near the back. It was dark. There’s a hole there. You cannot see the bottom. They came into the cave, the three of them, but they didn’t see us. We were hidden and we were scared and quiet. They were three: a man, an old woman, and a young woman. We saw only their shadows, but we heard them. They made a fire. And they … they had human flesh – they said they did. The man insisted they eat a piece to gain strength against their enemies. We heard them, both of us heard them. This is not something from my imagination.’
‘Mma Milner will agree that she was there? She will tell us the same thing?’ Kgosi Sechele asks.
‘Yes, yes, she will tell you. You must ask her. She was there with me; she saw everything. They
ate the flesh and then a cold wind came from the hole, cold such as I’ve never felt before. Then we saw them, the ones from the hole – they danced with the three. A sort of wild, frantic dance with songs in a language I could not understand. Mma Milner said it was the language of her people. She said they were speaking that language because they worked with the god of evil; they worked with //Gaunab. We were so frightened. And then it stopped, the dead went back, and the three left.’
‘Her people?’ Kgosidintsi says. ‘A god of evil? I know this god – it’s for the Khoikhoi people. Mma Milner is white, an Afrikaner. She knows nothing of such things. Or perhaps she’s mad too.’ Nthebolang can hear his anger rising again. ‘This girl is lost. I repeat, call her mother to come and collect her.’
‘No,’ Nthebolang insists. ‘She’s Khoikhoi, Koranna in fact. She’ll tell you – you must ask her. She’s Koranna from the Gariep, the islands in the middle. Even Reverend Milner will tell you; he knows this too.’
‘And Mma Milner and Reverend Milner will corroborate what you’re telling us?’ Kgosi Sechele asks.
‘Yes. Yes, they know he’s innocent – that Motsumi is innocent. You have the wrong person. You’re letting the guilty go free and that’s dangerous for everyone.’
‘Kgosi Sechele has heard you,’ Kgosidintsi says. ‘We’ll call the people. We need to hear from everyone.’
‘So will you release Motsumi?’ Nthebolang asks.
‘Not yet. He might escape; he has already tried once. We want this sorted out soon. There are many issues here. These witches have been operating for some time, causing havoc. We know some of the things they’re responsible for. Do you know anything else?’ asks Kgosi Sechele.
‘I know of the women who move with Mmapitse in the night. They may be part of this too.’
‘You saw them, with your own eyes?’ says Kgosidintsi.
‘Yes. And I heard them speaking of evil, non-Christian things.’
But Deliver Us from Evil Page 23