Graf Otto came directly to the main business. He knew the colonel would expect and appreciate a forthright approach. ‘Has our visitor from the south arrived safely, Colonel?’
‘He is waiting for you in the fort.’
‘What do you make of him? Does he live up to his reputation?’
‘Difficult to say. He speaks no German or English, only his native Afrikaans. You will have some difficulty communicating with him, I fear.’
‘I have made allowance for that. One of the men I brought with me is an Afrikaner. In fact, he fought under de la Rey against the British in South Africa. He also speaks fluent English, as I know you do, Colonel. We shall have no trouble in communicating.’
‘Excellent! That will certainly make matters easier.’ Von Lettow Vorbeck nodded as they drove through the gates into the interior courtyard. ‘After your journey, you and Fräulein von Wellberg will want to bathe and rest for a while. Captain Reitz will conduct you to the quarters that have been prepared for you. At four o’clock, that is in two hours’ time, Reitz will return and bring you to the meeting with de la Rey.’
As von Lettow Vorbeck had promised, Reitz knocked on the door of the guest suite at precisely four o’clock.
Graf Otto checked his watch. ‘He is punctual. Are you ready, Eva?’ Punctuality was something he expected of everybody around him, including her. He looked her over, from the top of her shining head to her small neat feet. She had taken care with her appearance and knew how lovely she was.
‘Yes, Otto. I am ready.’
‘That is the Fortuny dress. It suits you admirably.’ He called Captain Reitz, who entered and saluted respectfully. Behind him, Hennie du Rand stood in the open doorway. He wore a fresh shirt, had shaved and slicked down his hair with pomade.
‘You look very smart, Hennie,’ Eva told him. He had sufficient rudimentary German to understand her and blushed with pleasure under his tan.
‘If you are ready, will you please follow me, sir?’ Reitz invited Graf Otto, and they followed him along the stone-flagged passageway to the circular staircase that led up to the battlements. There, on the terrace, Colonel von Lettow Vorbeck waited for them under a canvas awning. He was sitting at a heavy teak table on which was set out a selection of drinks and refreshments.
At the far end of the battlements stood another tall figure in a black frock coat. His back was turned to them and his hands were clasped behind it. He was staring out across the river at the bulk of Mount Meru, which hovered in the distant mist.
Von Lettow Vorbeck stood to welcome them, and once he had enquired politely as to the comfort of their quarters, he eyed Hennie with interest.
‘This is du Rand, the man I told you about.’ Graf Otto introduced them. ‘He rode commando with de la Rey.’ At the mention of his name, the black-clad figure standing at the far end of the battlements turned towards them. He was in his sixties, and his silver-shot hair had receded to leave his forehead high and domed; the skin was white and smooth where it had been protected by his hat from the sun. His remaining locks hung to his shoulders, speckling the dark cloth of his coat with flakes of dandruff. His beard was dense, profuse and untamed. His nose was large, the line of his mouth grim and unyielding. His deep-set eyes were as piercing and fanatical as those of a Biblical prophet. Indeed, he carried a small Bible in his right hand, which he stuffed into the pocket of his frock coat as he strode towards Graf Otto.
‘This is General Jacobus Herculaas de la Rey,’ von Lettow Vorbeck introduced him, but before he reached them Hennie ran forward to intercept him and went down on one knee in front of him.
‘General Koos! I beg you to give me your blessing.’
De la Rey stopped and looked down at him. ‘Don’t kneel for me. I am not a priest, and I am no longer a general. I am a farmer. Get up, man!’ Then he peered more closely at Hennie. ‘I know your face, but I have forgotten your name.’
‘Du Rand, General. Hennie du Rand.’ Hennie beamed with pleasure to be remembered. ‘I was with you at Nooitgedacht and Ysterspruit.’ Those were two of the notable victories the Boers had won during the war. At Ysterspruit de la Rey’s flying commando had captured such huge quantities of British stores that the little Boer Army had been rejuvenated, given the will and means to fight on for another year.
‘
‘I came to shake your hand, General.’
‘That will be my pleasure!’ de la Rey replied, as he seized Hennie’s hand in a powerful grip. It was plain to see why his men held him in such awe and reverence. ‘Why did you leave the Orange Free State Republic, Hennie?’
‘Because it was no longer a republic and it was no longer free. They have made it part of a foreign land that they call the British Empire,’ Hennie replied.
