CHAPTER 14

The next morning Shorty greets me with a huge smile.

“Praise Prospiroh you’re home, Miss Ebba,” he says. “We were so worried about you. Weren’t we, Victor? We’ve been so unwell, but I was just saying to Aunty Figgy last night that if you weren’t home today I was going to go to Mr Frye and beg him to speak to the High Priest.

“We heard all about the wedding of course, and I must say I don’t approve. I mean you’re just a young girl. What are you, fourteen, fifteen? You can’t be expected to make grown-up decisions, and surely you’re too young to get married.

“Not that Haldus isn’t a charming young man, but you’re just too young. Isn’t she, Aunty Figgy?

“I mean, what’s the rush? You can wait a year or two, surely?”

I want to hit him.

“Where’s Mike this morning?” he continues, buttering his toast. “Is he alright? I thought I was going to die I got so nauseous. I hope he’s feeling better.”

“Mike’s still unwell,” Aunty Figgy says calmly. “I’m going to take some mint tea and dry toast to him.” She points to the tray laid ready on the counter. I realise she’s been pretending to feed and nurse him for days to put Shorty off the scent.

Victor, as usual, says nothing.

I need a break from Shorty’s incessant chattering so I tell him to go with Victor and Leonid to clear weeds in the cabbage patch.

He looks surprised. “But I’ve got to do the books, miss,” he says.

“Shorty, just do as I say,” I snap, and his big eyes open wide with surprise.

“Yes, yes, at once, miss,” he says jumping up and pushing back his chair.

I’m worried sick about Micah. Has he escaped? Or is he lying dead on the mountain side? Perhaps they shot him and left him there, and he’s too badly injured to reach help. I’m torturing myself thinking of the worst possible outcomes. Jasmine sees me picking at my cuticles.

“You need some really hard work to make you sweat and get your mind off him,” she says. “Come and work in the kitchen garden. You can turn over the compost heap.”

I get a pitchfork and jab it into the steaming compost heap, imagining that it’s the High Priest I’m stabbing. Jasmine works on the seedlings in the greenhouse. She comes out to check on me every now and then, and I’m grateful. This is the old Jas who has my back. At around eleven o’clock we hear horses on the driveway. Jasmine runs to check who it is. But I already know – it’s got to be Captain Atherton.

I keep digging, though my stomach is knotting. Then Aunty Figgy opens the kitchen door and calls, “Miss Ebba! Miss Ebba!”

But it’s not Captain Atherton. Major Zungu is storming down the pathway, followed by Mr Frye, red-faced and flustered as he tries to keep up.

“How can I help you, Major?” I say coldly, ramming the pitchfork into the ground and resting my foot on it.

“You’re under arrest,” he snaps, grabbing my arm.

I try to pull away but his grip is like a handcuff.

“Please, Ebba,” Mr Frye says, flapping his arms like a frantic chicken. “Just do as he says. Please. It will be better in the long run.”

They propel me to the carriage and force me inside. Mr Frye sits between me and the door. Major Zungu takes the seat opposite, where he can watch every move I make.

The driver whips up the horses and without another word we set off at a smart gallop.

Isi runs after the carriage, barking wildly. The coachman flicks her with his whip. “Don’t you dare touch my dog again!” I yell, banging on the window.

We reach the gates of Greenhaven. As we turn into the road, Major Zungu reaches forward and grips my amulet. “What’s so special about this?” he says, leering at me.

“Nothing,” I say, grabbing the chain. “It’s just an old necklace from my mother.”

He pulls harder. “The High Priest might decide to forget about your indiscretion if you present this to him,” he says coldly.

“Leave it. It’s mine.”

He tugs again. The clasp breaks and the amulet falls off the chain. He shoves it into his pocket. “Where are your friends?” he snarls, jabbing his finger into my chest.

“My friends?” I clutch the empty chain. It’s hot in my fingers.

“The prisoners. Where are they?”

“I haven’t seen anyone,” I snap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Give me back my amulet.”

“If you tell us what we need to know.”

Rage engulfs me. I leap on him, scratching his eyes. “The Goddess is with me!” I yell. “Give me my amulet.”

He punches me in my stomach, but I’m exploding with anger. I smash the heel of my hand into his nose.

“The Goddess is with me!” I scream again. I grab his robe, reaching for the pocket. “Give it back!”

He throws me against the window. The glass breaks and a shard slices my scalp. The horses whinny, tossing their heads.

“Control the bloody horses!” Mr Frye yells to the coachman.

I attack again. I want to rip out his windpipe, but Major Zungu blocks me, so I sink my teeth into his bicep.

“You little bitch!” he yells. He grabs my arm and twists it behind my back. “Where are they?” he yells. “Where are your friends?”

“Don’t harm her,” Mr Frye screeches. “Don’t harm her.”

The horses break into a full gallop. The carriage is rocking as they careen down the road. The major jerks my arm upwards, dislocating it. I’m forced forward, bent over. Blood drips onto the floor from my head wound.

Despite the pain, I stamp my foot on his sandal.

“Bitch!” he yells, slapping me across the head.

We hit a pothole with a jolt that almost breaks my arm. The carriage rocks to one side and he loosens his grip. I’m propelled against the door and it bursts open.

I hit the road, grazing the skin off my arms and legs. The impact rolls me onto my aching shoulder, then over again, into a ditch.

“Stop! Stop!” Mr Frye is screaming.

The coachman is standing up, trying to control the horses. They hit another pothole and the carriage jolts to the left, then rights itself. The coachman goes flying into the road. The horses snort, their necks arched, their tails flying behind them. They misjudge the bend in the road. The carriage hits the white farm wall and flips over.

The amulet. I have to get the amulet.

A horse is screaming. Major Zungu is crawling out of the carriage window. He sees me and gets to his feet. I turn and run for the farm wall. I’ve got to get back onto Greenhaven. Can I get over? The wall’s only chest-high, but my injured shoulder can’t take my weight. I jump as high as I can and grip the top, hanging on, gasping from pain. The major is right behind me.

“Get away,” I snarl, kicking out at him. I hear his nose crack and he yells.

I take the gap, dragging myself up and over.

I land with a thud. I stagger up and run, clutching my shoulder. Blood is running into my eyes. I wipe it away and keep running, through the furrowed new lands, through the gate, into the orchard. My breath is jagged but I’m bolting like the horses. When Leonid reaches me, I’m ready to collapse. He throws me over his shoulder and carries me to the house.