18

Kanzia was a thickly forested territory of about thirty square kilometers, within which was a clearing on a rocky plateau of about five square kilometers. It was bounded by a wide, reedy swamp in the north, a tributary river in the east, a lake in the south and an enemy in the west. That hostile neighbor kept the considerable armed forces of Kanzia constantly on the alert, and was generally useful when the Chief, old Delihu Kanzia, wanted to pick a fight to divert his people’s cravings for such indigestible ideas as democracy. As the Chief’s grandson, Karl Jacobs, had told Jean-Pierre, the tiny state was renowned for its having extracted over the years an exceptional number of extra-large diamond lumps, from a mine that as yet showed no signs of petering out.

The Chief was supremely happy when his grandson, Karl, in Paris, sent him word by fax that a couple of English earls had been engaged to tutor his three sons, aged thirteen, fifteen and eighteen. He had other small children, but they could benefit from the prestigious village school of Kanzia in the meantime.

For the last lap of their journey Lucky and Walker were borne each on a slung couch attached to four poles. They had left the jeep at the edge of the forest; the rest of the way was a footpath.

“Flies, flies again,” said Lucan. “People who don’t know Africa don’t know how thick with flies the air is everywhere. Nobody writes about the flies. Flies, mosquitoes, flying ants, there’s no end to them.” He flourished a fly swat that one of his bearers had handed to him. They passed a woman with a child on her back, its eyes and mouth black with crawling flies. In Africa there was nothing to be done, ever, about the flies.

Lucan’s four men sweated under their burden. They talked loudly all the way, shouting back also to Walker’s bearers.

The Chief was impatient for their arrival. “What are two English earls doing here in these parts? They have committed crimes?” the wily fellow had asked one of his henchmen.

“Well one of them is a nanny basher.”

“What is a nanny?”

“I think it’s some kind of an enemy.”

“Then he’s a brave man, no?”

“These are Christians. They might bring us a holy scripture and a string of beads. Take no notice.”

“Oh Christians worship the Lamb, unlike the Hindus who worship the Cow. They wash in the blood of a lamb.”

“I don’t know about that. I should think it was a sticky way to be washed.”

“They say it makes them white, the blood of the lamb.”

“They’re inscrutable, these people, but Karl says they are noblemen.”

Delihu had sent his strongest bearers with their litters and arranged for a long strip of red carpet to be spread down the front steps of his large dwelling.