"I went into the hills, but then a message reached me one of my children from the school was dying dysentery and no doctor. I could not ignore the call."
"Of course, it was a lie," he guessed flatly.
"It was a lie," she admitted. "The Shana soldiers were waiting for me. Forgive me, lord."
"It does not matter any longer," he answered.
"Not for me, lord," she pleaded. "Do not do anything for me. I am a daughter of Mashobane. I can bear anything these Shana animals can do to me." He shook his head sadly, and at last reached out and touched her lips with the tips of his fingers. His hand was trembling like that of a drunkard. She kissed his fingers.
He dropped his hand and, turning, trudged wearily back to the thatched shelter. The soldiers made no effort to prevent him.
Peter Fungabera looked up as he approached and motioned to the empty canvas chair. Tungata sat down and his body slumped.
"First," Tungata said, "the woman must be untied and clothed." Peter gave the order. They covered her and led her away to one of the hutments.
My lord-" she strained back against their grip, her face turned piteously to him.
"She must not be ill-treated in any way."
"She has not been," Peter said. "She will not be, unless you make it necessary." He pushed a bowl of maize cake towards Tungata. He ignored it.
"She must be taken out of the country and delivered to a representative of the international Red Cross in Francistown."
"There is a light aircraft waiting at Tuti airfield. Eat, Comrade, we must have you strong and well."
"When she is safe, she will speak to me radio or telephone and give me a code-word that I will arrange with her before she leaves."
"Agreed." He poured hot sweet tea for Tungata.
"We will be left alone together to agree on the code."
"You may speak to her, of course," Peter nodded. "But in the middle of this parade ground. None of my men will be closer than a hundred yards to you, but there will be a machine-gun trained upon you at all times. I will allow you precisely five minutes with the woman." have failed you," Sarah said, and Tungata had forgotten how beautiful she was. His whole being ached with longing for her.
"No," he told her, "it was inevitable. There is no blame to you. It was for duty, not for yourself that you came out of hiding My lord, what can I do now?" Listen," he said, and spoke quietly and quickly. "Some of my trusted people have escaped from the scourge of Fungabera's Third Brigade you must find them. I believe they are in Botswana." He gave her the names and she repeated them faithfully. "Tell them-2 She memorized all that he told her, and repeated it to him perfectly.
From the corner of his eye Tungata saw the guards at the edge of the parade ground start towards where they stood alone in the centre. Their five minutes together was up.
"When you are safe, they will allow us to speak on the radio. To let me know that all is well, you will repeat to me, "Your beautiful bird has flown high and swiftly".
Repeat it."
"Oh my lord, "she choked.
"Repeat id" She obeyed, and then flung herself into his arms. She I j clung to him, and he to her.
"Will I ever see you again?"
"No,"he told her. "You must forget me."
"Never!" she cried. "Not if I live to be an old woman never, my lord." The guards dragged them apart. A Land-Rover drove out onto the parade ground. They hustled Sarah into it.
The last he saw of her was her face in the rear window, looking back at him her beautiful beloved face.
n the third day, they came to fetch Tungata from his cell and take him up to Peter Fungabera's command post on the central kopie.
"The woman is ready to speak to you. You will converse only in English. Your conversation will be recorded." Peter indicated the transistor tape deck beside the radio apparatus. "If you do attempt to slip in any Sindebele message, it will be translated later."
id
"The code we have arranged is in Sindebele, Tungata told him. "She will have to repeat it."
"Very well. That is acceptable, but nothing else." He looked Tungata over critically. "I am delighted to see you looking so well again, Comrade, a little good food and rest have worked wonders." Tungata wore faded suntans, but they were freshly laundered and pressed. He was still gaunt and wasted, but his skin had lost the dusty grey look and his eyes were clear and bright. The swelling of the adder bite on his cheek had abated, and the scab covering it looked dry and healthy.
Peter Fungabera nodded to the guard captain and he passed the radio microphone to Tungata and pressed the record" button on the tape deck.
"This is Tungata Zebiwe."
"My lord, this is Sarah." Her voice was scratchy and distorted by static, but he would have known it anywhere.
The ache of longing filled his chest.
"Are you safe?"
"I am in Francistowti. The Red Cross are caring for me."
"Do you have a message?" She replied in Sindebele. "Your beautiful bird has flown high and swiftly." Then she added, "I have met others here.
Do not despair." That is good I want' you to-" Peter Fungabera reached across and took the microphone from his hand. "Excuse me, Comrade, but I am paying for the call." He held the microphone to his lips and depressed the transmit button. "Transmission ends," he said, and broke the connection.