The Other Side of Silence (34 page)

Hanna grabs the bridle of Katja’s horse and gesticulates
urgently.
Let Nerina go with you too
.

Within minutes the three horses canter off. Hanna returns to the
parapet, with the soldiers. A wave of anxiety tears through the
fort. The horses disappear into the thicket. For a while everything
is very quiet. Then a shot rings out. It is received with shouts
and much running about along the wall, exclamations of dismay and
shock. At last there is movement again below on the plain. The two
women are on their way back, very slowly this time, on foot. They
are leading the three horses.

“What is going on?” shouts Sergeant Vogel at the gate.
“Where’s Werner? Where’s Lionel?”

Katja is sobbing. It looks real enough. “The snake came back.
Werner tried to shoot it, although he was already very weak. It was
too fast. He missed, and hit his friend. Now they are both
dead.”

Nine left, thinks Hanna. Four of them incapacitated. This is
becoming more manageable.

∨
The Other Side of Silence
∧

T
he day is not yet
over. The bodies have been brought in. (Katja is not there to see;
she has withdrawn under the hood of the oxcart.) Gloom has settled
on the brown fort against the high koppie.

Towards noon there is a chattering of gunfire in the distance,
from the hills. It continues for quite a while, fiercely,
erratically; to those in the fort, men and women alike, it is
nerve-racking. But at last it dies down. The pause that follows is
even more worrying. Then comes a conclusion, a repeat of last
night’s volley: two brief series of four shots each. The women can
breathe again: Kahapa’s men have evidently finished off the second
commando. But the soldiers in the fort are approaching a state of
mutinous agitation: something has to be done, someone has to go and
find out what has happened, it cannot go on like this. There is a
curse on this place.

Sergeant Vogel has the heliograph mounted on the front wall
again and tries several times to beam a message to the distant
hills, but there is no response. He has more and more difficulty
keeping his drastically diminished garrison under control. The
three grooms, who seem beside themselves with fear, are confined to
the stables. All four remaining able men are posted on the walls,
while the sergeant scuttles to and fro between them and the
suffering soldiers in the barracks. From time to time Hanna sends
old Kamma to offer help with what remains of her potions. The
sergeant is only too grateful for the assistance, which will ensure
that the sick soldiers continue to suffer. The captain, who is the
most seriously afflicted, is drifting in and out of delirium most
of the time.

At lunchtime, through Katja, who is still almost too disturbed
to react, Hanna asks one of the soldiers to take another bowl of
soup to the desperately sick woman on the oxcart. He, too, does not
return; but so unobtrusive has been his exit and such is the raging
consternation in the fort, that no one registers it. Gisela’s pile
of bedding is growing steadily.

Eight soldiers left, only half of them fit to do battle.

In the mid-afternoon there is another salvo of shots from the
koppies, the morning’s pattern repeated – one, two, three,
four-five – but although all the available men are falling over one
another as they scramble to the front wall with their binoculars to
scour the emptiness ahead it is doubtful whether anyone but the
female visitors has recognised the repetition.

Hanna realises that a response is needed: Kahapa is now waiting
for instructions. After the sergeant’s reaction to the morning’s
parting volley she knows the risk involved; but the time for the
endgame has come.

She hurries to the cart where Katja is lying on a bundle of
blankets behind Gisela. The girl barely moves when Hanna arrives,
staring fixedly at the canvas hood above her.

I’m calling Kahapa and the others back
, Hanna informs
her.

Katja shows no reaction.

Hanna grabs one of their guns and motions to Gisela and Nerina
to do the same. With four fingers pressed together and her thumb
held separate she orders them to fire their responding salvo: four
shots in quick succession, a brief pause, then a single.
Come
hack
.

Katja stares listlessly at them; she seems unable to comprehend
their urgency, even when Hanna grabs her by the shoulders to shake
her.

The sentries come running towards them from the front wall; the
thickset sergeant misses the bottom step of the stone staircase and
approaches on all fours, his face a rich magenta.

Hanna nudges Katja. But it is Gisela who calmly takes over, to
the manner born.

“Your men needed some sign of reassurance from the fort,
Sergeant, don’t you think? It seemed to us the least we could do
was just to let them know we’re still all right in here. Whatever
may have been happening to them out there.” She pauses briefly. “We
can but hope and pray that all went well.”

Sergeant Vogel makes an effort to control himself. He
halfheartedly tries to brush dust from his khaki trousers before he
stretches himself to his full, not very considerable, height. “I do
not want you women to get involved with any military matters again.
However well-meaning your attempts may be. Otherwise I shall have
to confiscate your guns. Is that understood? This is an order.”

“We are very, very sorry,” says Gisela with an air of genuine
contrition. “It’s just…Our lives depend on you and your men, in
here and out there. And we really thought – it was quite
spontaneous – that some sign of support…It is all such a nightmare
to us.” She breaks into tears.

“All right, all right.” He starts fumbling. “I understand. But
don’t – please don’t ever – try to interfere again.” Perturbed by
her sobs, he raises his arms in a gesture of futility, and rounds
up his men again to return to their sentry posts on the wall.

Hanna nods in satisfaction and pats Gisela on the shoulder. Then
she turns back to Katja.

We don’t have much time
, she signals to the girl.
I’m
going to fetch Tookwi. He’s been keeping an eye on the grooms, but
now we need him here. And you must interpret to him. Will you do
that?

Katja does not react.

Hanna shakes her again, gently this time.
Katja.
Please
.

Still no reaction.

Hanna is conscious of a small tug of panic in her guts. This is
the one eventuality she has not planned for. With Katja out of the
equation she herself is plunged into silence, which will reduce her
to near-impotence.

A shout goes up from a sentry on the wall with binoculars
pressed, it seems, permanently to his eyes as if he is some strange
man-sized mantis. “They’re coming back!”

The binoculars are passed from one pair of hands to the
next.

“They’re our soldiers indeed,” acknowledges the sergeant. “I
recognise the uniforms. But there seem to be only four of
them.”

“The rest must have gone on to find the other women.”

“Must have.”

No one dares to speak of an alternative.

Nudged by Hanna, Nerina and Kamma hurry to the staircase to join
the soldiers on the wall. Gisela urgently leans over Katja to add
her entreaties to Hanna’s; but Hanna motions at her to leave her
alone with the girl.

She presses down on Katja’s shoulders.
Please. You must pull
yourself together
.

“I have done enough. I’m not doing anything more.” The girl
sounds too weary even to cry.

Katja
. Fighting with every fibre to restrain her
agitation, Hanna sits down beside the girl. In this moment
everything is at stake. It may be more important than the battle
which is still to come.
You knew it was not going to be easy.
You chose to come with me
.

“Not for what we are doing now.”

Oh yes. For that and whatever still lies ahead. This thing is
bigger than you and me
.

“Nothing is bigger than life.”

Meine Liebe
. It is the first time she has ever said this
to Katja.
My darling. It is precisely for the sake of life that
we have to do this

After an agonising pause Katja turns her head. She takes a deep
breath. For a long time she remains silent, struggling to regain
her self-control. At last she says in a small voice, “I’m sorry,
Hanna. I didn’t mean to be so weak. You must despise me very
much.”

I admire you very much
.

“I need you to help me.”

I shall give you all the help I can. But right now I need
you.
If I bring Tookwi, will you tell him what to do?

After a moment Katja nods. Without wasting another moment –
every minute is infinitely precious right now – Hanna hurries off
to the stables, where she finds Tookwi, as instructed, still in
conversation with the three grooms, all of them visibly unsettled
by what has been happening in and around the fort. Followed by the
old man who looks like a praying mantis, she returns to the
cart.

Katja is now sitting up, waiting for them. Hanna proceeds to
give her quick, clear instructions to convey to the eager old man,
and without delay he gets busy with his elaborate preparations
behind the oxcart, clawing a small hollow into the ground, placing
the chameleon – limp, but still feebly wriggling – on its back
inside, covering it with earth, mumbling his invocations.

“I’m not going to pee again,” Katja says quickly, looking around
as if she’s scared someone may try to intervene. “Not in front of
these people.”

“Is all right,” Tookwi reassures her. “This is not a snake, it
is
gurutsi-kubib
, the chameleon. He comes straight from
Tsui-Goab, goes straight back to him. He needs no girl’s piss. This
time we want the rain-bull, not the cow.” He makes a series of
clicks, cocking his head. “The only thing is we cannot hurry
Tsui-Goab. It will make him angry.”

This time you
must
ask him to hurry
, Hanna urges
him through Katja.

Tookwi mumbles something incomprehensible. “He will make us pay
bad. But you say we hurry, so we hurry.”

We need the rain quickly, otherwise everything could go wrong
with Kahapa and the others
.

He resumes. But there is an interruption. Sergeant Vogel comes
round the oxcart and stops to stare at them with grave suspicion on
his perspiring face.

“What is this going on?” he demands to know.

Katja puts a finger to her lips. “Shhh. He is praying to his
ancestors. To bless your company and give them what they so richly
deserve.”

The thickset man snorts, gazes down at them for another moment,
then goes off.

They turn back to Tookwi’s intricate performance, watching
intently, half intrigued, half sceptical. Gisela, too, is leaning
on one elbow over the edge of the cart. Nerina and Kamma complete
the little gathering. They are all spellbound. But it is unlikely
that any one of them really expects a result. Most certainly not
the spectacular outbreak of a thunderstorm from a nearly empty sky
barely fifteen minutes later, which sends everybody in the
courtyard and on the walls scurrying for cover.

This is exactly what they are most in need of: a cataract of
rain washing down in massive grey sheets, obscuring the
surroundings of the fort so effectively that no one can see clearly
any more. There are only brief glimpses of the approaching group;
one can make out a huddle of horses, figures in dark uniforms, but
no more. They have to take on trust that it is the patrol
returning; and everybody is too overwhelmed by the suddenness of
the event to think clearly. All the soldiers know is that they are
in need of relief, which – almost literally in a flash – now seems
at hand.

Without waiting for orders from Sergeant Vogel the sentries
throw open the gates. There is a thin chorus of cheers. Which is
drowned very quickly when Kahapa, Himba, Koo and the batman David
come storming in among them. They are joined immediately by old
Tookwi and the women from the oxcart. With guns and kieries and
clubs they set upon the remains of the drastically depleted
garrison.

The sick men come staggering from the barracks, too weak and
bewildered to help and causing more of a hindrance than anything
else. Within less than ten minutes there is no soldier left
standing. Here and there one is still moaning in agony but Kahapa
and Himba are doing the rounds with bayonets to administer the
.

The rain continues to pour down for some time. Only the thin wet
sounds of small, separate leaks and trickles along the stone walls
continue. These, too, abate. And then there is only silence. The
fort is taken.

∨
The Other Side of Silence
∧

L
ater in the evening
they are all gathered in the barracks around a new fire which
Kahapa has made. The interior is thick with smoke, in which their
faces drift eerily, ghost-like, lit by the torches which are
flickering in the draughts from outside. In spite of the victory
there is little exuberance. They are conscious of the bodies
stacked like logs of firewood in the farthest, darkest corner. And
of their own losses. Kahapa’s group lost the sad monkey-man
T’Kamkhab in their ambush of the first expedition sent from the
fort the night before, while Himba has an ugly wound in the left
shoulder. The two young Nama girls, the soldiers’ whores, forced to
stay behind with Kahapa in order to avoid suspicion at the fort,
got caught in crossfire when, scared out of their wits by the
fighting, they darted off blindly like hares in a hunt. In the
second ambush, this morning, one of the two batmen who had
accompanied them from the very first encounter on the plains had to
be shot by Kahapa when he tried to escape. During the final battle
in the fort itself, David was killed and old Tookwi badly trampled
by a horse; it remains to be seen whether Kamma’s medicine can pull
him through.