Above, the sky mellowed and cleared as the night wore on, revealing numberless brilliant stars. Thorn trees swept past, horse hooves pounded their drumbeat upon the path, and the South African yellow moon crouched over the hills of Isandlwana. Though exhausted, Katie could not rest. Her heart, sore and distraught, would not let her.
There was little hope of taking Evy away and escaping to America now, unless by some unforeseen chance the missionary Dr. Varley and his wife agreed to help her. Or unless Cousin Henry changed his mind about his treachery and came to Isandlwana? Too good to be true, she scolded her hopes. When Sir Julien returned and learned that his diamonds were missing, he would certainly search for Katie. If she failed to escape, how could she ever explain—or convince him that Henry had taken everything and fled?
No, she had no choice but to go on. If only she knew where she was going on to.
CHAPTER THREE
Henry Chantry groaned as he crawled from a layer of hay. He sat up slowly and peered around in the darkness. The stables, that’s where he was.
He pushed himself to his feet and staggered a little, then caught his balance on a wooden post. How did he get here like this? He squinted, looking for his horse, for Katie.
Both were gone.
He touched the lump at the back of his head and his eyes narrowed with sudden, burning anger. The last thing he could remember was unhitching his horse, hearing a soft footstep—
So that was it! That treacherous, conniving female had struck him in the dark, then escaped on his horse!
Henry groaned as he felt inside his jacket pocket for the Black Diamond. His mouth turned. Gone … Of course it would be. What a fool to have trusted her pretty face.
“The Black Diamond—that rare Black Diamond.” His hoarse whisper caught in his dry throat.
When his foot touched something among the scattered straw, he stooped down, wincing as the blood surged to his skull. He snatched up a heavy wooden mallet, glaring at it in the dimness. She might have cracked his skull open! He flung it aside, then started at an outside sound. He looked toward the stable doors. Someone was coming with a lantern—
He felt his trouser pockets for the three pouches of whites, amazed they were still there. The snit must have been in a hurry. He took out the pouches and stooped toward a corner, covering them over with hay. He straightened up as Julien Bley’s voice split the night.
“I suspected you would return to do your thieving business. You thought you could get by with it, did you? Then you’re a bigger fool than I thought, Henry!”
Someone else was with him. Anthony Brewster held a sjambok, a flexible, rounded whip a little over three feet long, usually made of rhino hide, and first used by the Dutch settlers to drive their oxen.
Was this why Katie involved me? She needed a handy culprit while she escaped? She was far more devious than he had thought.
“Where is the Black Diamond?”
Henry met Julien’s angry glare. “I don’t have it.” He turned to Anthony. “When did you arrive?”
“That’s none of your concern!” Julien snapped the words out. “Take that jacket off, then empty your pockets. Anthony, search him, and check for his pistol.”
“Don’t be a fool, Julien.” Henry leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “Someone clobbered me from behind. While we talk and delay, the real thief is getting away.”
Anthony, a broad-shouldered young man with a strong jaw and platinum hair, came toward Henry, frowning. Henry made no resistance as Anthony searched him. He knew there was naught to find but his pistol, which Anthony threw across the stable into the hay. Henry watched Anthony, who seemed to have other concerns on his mind.
“Where is Katie?”
Henry met Anthony’s clear suspicion. “Why ask me? You spent enough time with her this past winter.”
At least the knave had the grace to redden. “I’ve not seen Katie for—for months. I’ve been at Lady Brewster’s in Pietermaritzburg with my fiancée until this evening. Julien had just discovered the theft of the Black Diamond when Camilla and I arrived.” He turned his troubled gaze to Julien. “Isn’t that so, Uncle?”
“Never mind that now, my boy. Search him again. He must have it. Inga says she saw him prowling about the library earlier.”
“And knocked myself on the back of the head with that mallet too, I suppose?” Henry didn’t even try to conceal his disdain. “Don’t be ridiculous, Julien. I don’t have the Black Diamond and don’t know where it is. And don’t forget, I’m an heir of Sir Ebenezer too. I’m just as concerned over its loss as you.”
“You’ll not convince me of that. And if this were not a family matter I’d contact the authorities at once.”
“Would you? I wonder. You and I both know about the diamond smuggling going on recently.”
“So what are you getting at?”
“I think you know a little too much about it.”
The speculative gleam came cold and hard. “It’s your word against mine. But I don’t need the authorities to make you talk.” Anger burned in Julien’s eyes. “Hand me that whip, Anthony.”
Henry straightened. “Try that approach, and I will live to kill you, Julien.”
“Careful, Uncle Julien,” Anthony said. “We must keep these squabbles to ourselves. We’ll get to the truth.” He turned to Henry. “You still have not told me where Katie is.”
Henry smirked. “Dear little Katie has run away with the prize.”
“The Black Diamond—? That’s nonsense,” Anthony snorted.
“Is it? She’s determined to get her baby back—your baby, Anthony, and she needs the Black Diamond to do it.”
A muscle twitched near the corner of Anthony’s mouth. His cool gaze shifted away from Henry to Julien.
A footfall sounded behind them. They turned toward the stable entrance, where Henry saw a young woman standing. Her blond hair was elegantly attired and glittering, and there were large diamonds around her throat and at her ears. The tender gray eyes looked with surprise at Anthony, who still held the sjambok. Then she winced, her hand going to her throat. Her gaze swerved to meet Anthony’s.
“Oh—”
Anthony looked evenly at Henry, and he got the message: Say anything, and you will live to regret it.
Henry smirked. A mere slip of his tongue and Anthony’s prospects for marriage to Lord Montieth’s daughter would be dust. He smiled and relaxed for the first time. “Maybe we need not be so quick about all this, Julien.” He saw from Julien’s start that he clearly understood the veiled threat: Persist, and I just may open Pandora’s box. Lord Montieth was in the British Parliament under Queen Victoria, who, like Julien, wished to bring South Africa into the British Empire. He would certainly abhor any hint of scandal.
Julien’s mouth tightened. “Anthony take Camilla to the house.” His words were as stiff as his carriage.
Camilla’s questioning gaze swerved to Anthony. He went to take her arm, patting her hand. “There is nothing to be concerned about, my dear Camilla. Uncle Henry has had a minor accident, but he wasn’t seriously hurt. His horse threw him and ran off. I’m sure one of the stable boys will find it roaming round the estate by morning.”
Henry felt the woman’s gaze. A hint of curiosity showed in her face.
“A golden gelding?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. You’ve seen it?”
She cast a glance toward Anthony. “I might have been mistaken about the color,” she said in an apologetic tone. “I thought I saw a golden horse trotting loose when I walked up from the house just now. It seemed a little nervous.” She twisted her lacy handkerchief. “It may still be there.”
“I’ll have a look—” Henry started for the doors.
“No need,” Julien cut in. “Anthony can do it. Where did you see it, Miss Camilla?”
“By the outer rim of the corral, near the trees.”
Henry looked at Anthony, then at the boy’s wife-to-be. Was it his imagination, or did Camilla look s
trangely uneasy?
The woman’s mood could be caused by her recent arrival in untamed South Africa. She did not look the sort to adjust well. Although pretty, she was thin and pale.
Then a thought stopped him. If his horse was wandering about, then Katie had not taken it. Had she walked all the way to the carriage waiting near the African huts? Had she intended to run his horse off to keep him from following after her?
“Go back to the house and wait for me, Camilla dear,” Anthony was saying. “I will join you there in a few minutes.”
Henry looked after them as they left the stables. Their footsteps faded into the windy night.
“What did you do with the Black Diamond?” Julien snapped.
“Don’t be a fool. The longer you hold me here, the easier it will be for her to escape. She’s already an hour or more ahead of me.”
“You are still intent on blaming Katie for this theft?”
“Who else could have done it? You won’t find her asleep in her room. Doesn’t that tell you something? She told me she was determined to leave.”
A moment later Anthony returned to the stable leading the nervous gelding by the reins.
“A bit shy, but otherwise unhurt.”
Henry took the reins and led his horse to a stall.
“Then Katie might have been thrown,” Sir Julien said. “We’d better get some of the Bantu together and search the area.”
Anthony shook his head. “I looked in the trees around the corral.”
“You won’t find her.” Henry looked from one to the other. “She sent a message to my hotel asking me to come here tonight. She had some kind of plan and mentioned taking a carriage. She wanted to escape to America.”
“If you are lying—”
Henry cut Anthony off. “Why should I?”
“I can think of a few reasons.”
Henry met the younger man’s glare. “She had a most compelling reason to run away, thanks to you, my lad.”
“Enough!” Julien fixed them both with an angry stare. “Henry, where is this message you say she sent you?”
“Naturally, I wouldn’t keep it on me. I left it at my hotel.”
“Naturally!” Anthony derided.
Henry ignored him, focusing on Julien. “When I arrived from my hotel, she said she was going to get the Black Diamond. She offered to sponsor my expedition to locate my father’s gold mine if I would help her find her child and get ship passage. But when I was getting my horse ready, she struck me from behind with that mallet.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Julien strode toward him and snatched the mallet up from the barn floor. “If she needed your help so much, then why would she strike you unconscious?” His black eye patch stared back at Henry like a bottomless pit.
Henry frowned. Why indeed? “I’m beginning to think the only reason she sent for me was so that I would be left here unconscious … to later waste time answering questions while she escaped in the carriage to the mission station with that Zulu woman.”
“You let her leave for the mission station? At a time such as this, without even warning her? Have you gone mad?”
Henry had almost had his fill of this foolishness. “Warning her of what?”
“The Zulus, you fool!” Julien hissed the words. “If you had kept abreast of what London and Governor Frere have been up to these past months instead of chasing after bogus gold deposits, you might have stopped her.”
Henry felt his muscles tense. “You’d better explain.”
“The Zulus have been given a thirty day ultimatum to comply with British demands to leave the area or face Lord Chelmsford’s troops in Zululand. Chelmsford rode toward Isandlwana a week ago.”
“The general can expect to meet up with some twenty thousand Impi Zulus!”
Anthony’s words struck Henry hard. “I had no idea!” He turned to Sir Julien. “The mission station is located near Rorke’s Drift.”
“If Cetshwayo’s warriors are on the move, no one will be safe anywhere near Zulu territory, and Rorke’s Landing sits on the Zulu borders.” Julien’s tone was dark.
“Uncle Julien”—Anthony looked pale—“we have got to find Katie tonight.”
“Send for the Bantu servants, Anthony. I want every available man on the estate armed and on horseback.”
“Yes, Uncle Julien.”
“Send for Dumaka. He may be useful as a guide.”
There wasn’t a Zulu alive that Henry trusted, whether they claimed to be Christian or not. So far as he knew, Jendaya could be planning a trick, delivering a white woman as a hostage for the Zulu chieftain.
Julien started for the door. “I’d better send a rider to tell Sir Bartle at Government House. He may be able to send someone to Rorke’s Drift.”
“There’s no reason for all of us to be idle while you gather up an armed force,” Henry insisted. “I am well acquainted with the region. I’ll ride ahead to Rorke’s Drift—and I’ll need to be adequately armed.”
Julien’s one eye glittered. For a moment Henry believed he would not permit him to leave.
“Stop by the house as you ride out.” Julien gave a stiff nod. “Take a Martini-Henry rifle and whatever ammunition you need.” He turned and stalked out of the stables.
Henry looked after him a moment, a little surprised by his cooperation. Julien must have serious concern for his ward after all.
Henry located his pistol, then retrieved the three pouches of diamonds and hid them deep inside his saddlebag. He mounted his horse and rode to the house for the rifle.
A short time later he was riding toward the Buffalo River at Rorke’s Drift on the border between British-controlled Natal and the stony hills of Zululand. There, if he was successful in his quest, he would find not only Katie but also the Black Diamond.
CHAPTER FOUR
And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud
voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge.
ACTS 7:60
Rorke’s Drift, Twelve Miles South of Isandlwana
House of Mercy Medical Mission
The whitewashed walls of the House of Mercy mission station burned in the dawn sunlight with the brilliance of bleached bone. The dwelling, surrounded by wide, shaded verandas roofed with thatch, stood a little apart from the church and its attendant buildings below the distant rocky hills that marked the boundary of Zululand.
Dr. Clyde Varley was an early riser. He was fully aware that the troops under Lord Chelmsford, some seven thousand strong, had already ridden from Rorke’s Drift and were well into Zulu territory. By now Chelmsford would have divided his men into three groups, the smallest camped at Isandlwana while the other two were out looking for the great army of the Zulu chieftain, known to be up to thirty thousand strong.
Dr. Varley was worried. He was not pleased with this British mission into Zululand. The chieftain had ordered all missionaries out of his land, and the House of Mercy at Rorke’s Drift was on the very border between Zululand and Natal. Varley did not think much of the British general, for it was clear Chelmsford did not appreciate the strength of the Zulu warriors. He trusted in his weapons and his experience in battle with other lesser tribes.
But the Zulus were fierce warriors. They had no friends among the other African tribes—too many of them had felt the deadly blade of the assegai, the broad, short, stabbing sword of the Zulu.
Dr. Varley was frowning to himself when a young man he liked, Captain Durbin, came walking toward him at the mission gate.
“Good morning, Doctor,” the smiling young captain called.
“Good morning, Captain.”
Captain Durbin walked beside a squarely built bear of a man, Hans Kruger, a Boer commander from the Dutch-controlled Transvaal. The Boer was wearing the customary Dutch leather jerkins and hat, in contrast to the British redcoated uniforms.
“Good mornin’, Parson,” the Boer called.
“You’re leaving Rorke’s Drift?” Dr. Varley knew they were; he had seen them
readying the transport line during the night.
Captain Durbin nodded. “I received word last night from General Chelmsford. I and my men are to bolster the forces at Isandlwana. We wanted to alert you before we left. We know from scouts that the Zulus number about twenty thousand. We don’t expect that great a thrust, but it might be wise to send Mrs. Varley and the baby into Natal with the other civilians under your charge.”
“You think Cetshwayo will attack this far from Isandlwana?” Dr. Varley couldn’t imagine it. Usually seven thousand troops were quite enough—especially when facing fighters with spears.
“I doubt if any of them will get past our troops, but with the woman here I felt I should mention the possibility.”
The Boer made a throaty sound of disagreement and fingered his sjambok. “Yah, we have had battles with the Zulu afore now, Captain Durbin.” He shook his golden head. “The Zulu must not be underestimated. They are fierce warriors. Cetshwayo’s elite Impis are wanting a battle. They cannot marry until they initiate their assegais in enemy blood. Cetshwayo has kept them from war since he took over after his father, but they’re wanting it, I can tell you so.”
“Maybe. But you Boers tend to exaggerate when it comes to the Zulus.” Captain Durbin’s smile was indulgent. “If they do attack Chelmsford at Isandlwana, the general will defeat them without difficulty. What are spears against rifles and cannon? I fear it will all be over before I get there.”
“You underestimate,” the Boer said again. “Your general does not take wise precautions. Trenches should be built at Isandlwana, rocks gathered for defense lines, the wagons drawn in to form a wagon laager.” He shook his big head again. “You do not worry enough, Captain.”
Captain Durbin’s impatient shrug was quick and abrupt. “We cannot waste the time, Hans. After this there will be no more skirmishes with Cetshwayo. He will go scurrying back to his kraal at Ulundi. At any rate, Dr. Varley, I’m under orders to leave soldiers here to man the guns and guard Rorke’s Drift. But you might consider sending Mrs. Varley to Natal.”
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