“See, thou witch,” said the King, pointing at her with his spear, “I am minded to slay thee, for now I know whose wizardry has brought the enemy to our gates what time the half of our fighting force is away. Thus, then, was thy flight turned to account after the Bakoni were eaten up.”
But there was no trace of fear in Lalusini’s eyes as she gazed upon the terrible threatening countenance which to any of us would have seemed to bring death very near—only a slight look of wonder.
“Is it for this I have saved the life of a King—the life of a nation?” she said, her clear sweet tones firm and without a tremor: “I would ask the Great Great One—what started Untúswa from his sleep? A voice of warning? Would the warriors of Dingane have spared him, think you, had they come upon him slumbering? How did they mistake him for Mhlangana, and thus fill his ears with their plans? Was it not because of the shield—the royal shield—the white shield? And how did he escape from them to carry hither the word of warning? The blackness of the moon, was it not? And the shield? Who warned him not to part from it day or night until after the blackness of the moon? Au! In a word, who predicted all these things, in warning? and have they not come to pass? Now, son of Matyobane, say. Am I to die?”
She stood, drawn proudly up, and her tone had been that of rebuke. And such is a terrible one to adopt towards him whose word summons the slayers.
“Hearken, my sister,” said Umzilikazi, now speaking softly. “Thy words are not without truth and reason, yet I trust thee not over-much, being of the blood of those who come against us. Thou art great at making múti. Now, in the battle before us, the odds against us are heavy. If thy múti wins us this battle, then thou shalt dwell in great honour and obtain any wish thou shalt express. If we lose it, thou shalt die, and die hard, as the worst sort of witches die.”
“And is this the word of the King?” said Lalusini, a smile gleaming in her great lustrous eyes.
“Such is my word, sister, and my word never fails; else had Untúswa not been seated here this day.”
“I hear the King, and am glad,” she answered. “My word, too, never fails—I, a daughter of the House of Senzangakona. You shall win in this battle, son of Matyobane, shall win it through my múti. Is it permitted that I go now and prepare the same?”
“Go, and may it be well for thee and for us,” said Umzilikazi.
When she had gone forth the King sent for old Masuka.