Read Online The Angels Weep by Wilbur Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Wilbur Smith
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and the loss of her dark powers.
She had told the story to Bazo many times, and he knew that
the mists of time had closed before her eyes and that now they
shrouded the future from her, but no man could doubt that she had
once possessed the power of the Sight.
Thus Bazo shivered briefly, and he felt the ghost fingers
touching the nape of his neck as Tanase went on in her husky
whisper.
‘I wept, Bazo my lord, when I saw you upon the high
tree, and while I wept, the man you call Henshaw the Hawk was
looking up at you – and smiling!’
T hey ate cold
bully beef straight from the cans, using the blade of a hunting
knife to spoon it out, and passing the cans from hand to hand.
There was no coffee, so they washed down the glutinous mess with
sun-warmed draughts from the felt-covered water bottles, and then
Ralph shared out his remaining cheroots with Harry Mellow and
Bazo. They lit them with burning twigs from the fire and smoked
in silence for a long time.
Close at hand a hyena warbled and sobbed in the darkness,
drawn by the firelight and the smell of food, while further out
across the plain, the lions were hunting, sweeping towards the
moonrise, not roaring before the kill but coughing throatily to
keep in contact with the other animals in the pride.
Tanase, with the child on her lap, sat at the edge of the
firelight, aloof from the men, and they ignored her. It would
have offended Bazo if they had paid undue attention to her, but
now Ralph took the cheroot from his mouth and glanced in her
direction.
‘What is your son’s name?’ he asked Bazo,
and there was a heartbeat of hesitation before Bazo replied.
‘He is called Tungata Zebiwe.’
Ralph frowned quickly, but checked the harsh words that rose
to his lips. Instead he said, ‘He is a fine boy.’
Bazo held out his hand towards the child, but Tanase
restrained him for a moment with a quiet ferocity.
‘Let him come to me,’ Bazo ordered sharply, and
reluctantly Tanase let the sleepy child stagger to his father and
climb into his arms.
He was a pretty, dark toffee colour, with a pot belly and
chubby limbs. Except for the bracelets of copper wire at his
wrists and a single string of beads around his waist, he was
stark naked. His hair was a dark fluffy cap and his eyes were
owlish with sleep as he stared at Ralph.
‘Tungata Zebiwe,’ Ralph repeated his name, and
then leaned across to stroke his head. The child made no attempt
to pull away, nor did he show any trace of alarm, but in the
shadows Tanase hissed softly and reached out as if to take the
child back, then dropped her hand again.
‘The Seeker after what has been stolen,’ Ralph
translated the child’s name, and caught the mother’s
dark eyes. ‘The Seeker after justice – that is a
heavy duty to place upon one so young,’ he said quietly.
‘You would make him an avenger of injustice inflicted
before his birth?’
Then smoothly Ralph seemed to change to a different
subject.
‘Do you remember, Bazo, the day we first met? You were a
green youth sent by your father and his brother the king to work
on the diamond fields. I was even younger and greener, when my
father and I found you in the veld and he signed you to a
three-year labour contract, before any other digger could put his
brand on you.’
The lines of suffering and sorrow that marred Bazo’s
features seemed to smooth away as he smiled, and for a few
moments he was that young guileless and carefree youth again.
‘It was only later I found out that the reason Lobengula
sent you and thousands of other young bucks like you to the
fields was to bring home as many fat diamonds as you could
steal.’ They both laughed, Ralph ruefully and Bazo with a
vestige of his youthful glee.
‘Lobengula must have hidden a great treasure somewhere.
Jameson never did find those diamonds when he captured
GuBulawayo.’
‘Do you remember the hunting falcon, Scipio?’ Bazo
asked.
‘And the
She had told the story to Bazo many times, and he knew that
the mists of time had closed before her eyes and that now they
shrouded the future from her, but no man could doubt that she had
once possessed the power of the Sight.
Thus Bazo shivered briefly, and he felt the ghost fingers
touching the nape of his neck as Tanase went on in her husky
whisper.
‘I wept, Bazo my lord, when I saw you upon the high
tree, and while I wept, the man you call Henshaw the Hawk was
looking up at you – and smiling!’
T hey ate cold
bully beef straight from the cans, using the blade of a hunting
knife to spoon it out, and passing the cans from hand to hand.
There was no coffee, so they washed down the glutinous mess with
sun-warmed draughts from the felt-covered water bottles, and then
Ralph shared out his remaining cheroots with Harry Mellow and
Bazo. They lit them with burning twigs from the fire and smoked
in silence for a long time.
Close at hand a hyena warbled and sobbed in the darkness,
drawn by the firelight and the smell of food, while further out
across the plain, the lions were hunting, sweeping towards the
moonrise, not roaring before the kill but coughing throatily to
keep in contact with the other animals in the pride.
Tanase, with the child on her lap, sat at the edge of the
firelight, aloof from the men, and they ignored her. It would
have offended Bazo if they had paid undue attention to her, but
now Ralph took the cheroot from his mouth and glanced in her
direction.
‘What is your son’s name?’ he asked Bazo,
and there was a heartbeat of hesitation before Bazo replied.
‘He is called Tungata Zebiwe.’
Ralph frowned quickly, but checked the harsh words that rose
to his lips. Instead he said, ‘He is a fine boy.’
Bazo held out his hand towards the child, but Tanase
restrained him for a moment with a quiet ferocity.
‘Let him come to me,’ Bazo ordered sharply, and
reluctantly Tanase let the sleepy child stagger to his father and
climb into his arms.
He was a pretty, dark toffee colour, with a pot belly and
chubby limbs. Except for the bracelets of copper wire at his
wrists and a single string of beads around his waist, he was
stark naked. His hair was a dark fluffy cap and his eyes were
owlish with sleep as he stared at Ralph.
‘Tungata Zebiwe,’ Ralph repeated his name, and
then leaned across to stroke his head. The child made no attempt
to pull away, nor did he show any trace of alarm, but in the
shadows Tanase hissed softly and reached out as if to take the
child back, then dropped her hand again.
‘The Seeker after what has been stolen,’ Ralph
translated the child’s name, and caught the mother’s
dark eyes. ‘The Seeker after justice – that is a
heavy duty to place upon one so young,’ he said quietly.
‘You would make him an avenger of injustice inflicted
before his birth?’
Then smoothly Ralph seemed to change to a different
subject.
‘Do you remember, Bazo, the day we first met? You were a
green youth sent by your father and his brother the king to work
on the diamond fields. I was even younger and greener, when my
father and I found you in the veld and he signed you to a
three-year labour contract, before any other digger could put his
brand on you.’
The lines of suffering and sorrow that marred Bazo’s
features seemed to smooth away as he smiled, and for a few
moments he was that young guileless and carefree youth again.
‘It was only later I found out that the reason Lobengula
sent you and thousands of other young bucks like you to the
fields was to bring home as many fat diamonds as you could
steal.’ They both laughed, Ralph ruefully and Bazo with a
vestige of his youthful glee.
‘Lobengula must have hidden a great treasure somewhere.
Jameson never did find those diamonds when he captured
GuBulawayo.’
‘Do you remember the hunting falcon, Scipio?’ Bazo
asked.
‘And the
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