The desert south of Klipdam Farm, German South West Africa, 1906
Blake crossed the border under the cover of darkness. Beside him rode Dawie, the young Nama man who worked for Rassie. Blake needed him to help keep the fifty horses they trailed under control, and then to take the cattle they expected to collect from the Boer, du Preez, back to Upington.
Blake would not be returning to the Cape Colony.
Blake had taken the gold that Jakob Morengo owed him – Claire’s gold – and some of her remaining stash from her farm, and used half of it to buy the fifty new horses. The remainder would pay for the cattle du Preez would sell him. When the deal with the Boers was done Blake and Dawie would part company and Dawie would take the cattle to Upington and deliver them to Morengo at the Spangenberg farm. The money Dawie would make for on-selling them in the Cape Colony would go to help the Nama refugees in the camps on the British side of the border.
After leaving Dawie, Blake would take the horses a short distance further to Gert, Morengo’s man who commanded a new band of rebels the Black Napoleon had formed in the Klipdam area. Morengo had decided it was time to escalate the war against the Germans.
Blake and Dawie led their mob of horses along a gully, the way ahead clearly visible thanks to a night sky ablaze with stars. Thoughts of Claire kept the chill from cutting through his oilskin.
The longer Claire and Blake stayed in Africa the greater the risk of the Germans or Llewellyn Walters catching up with them, but Claire was adamant that she wanted to leave some sort of legacy behind. They had discussed it and Blake had agreed to help her implement her plan to supply a last herd of horses to Morengo. He knew this was important to her, perhaps to atone for the theft of the gold in the first place. As tired as they both were of war they knew that Jakob Morengo and his people would have to continue the fight after they were gone.
Blake and Dawie rode on through the long, cool night. Their strategy was to rest up during the day to avoid German patrols.
Blake decided he would miss Africa’s enchanting night skies, not to mention the sunrises, but after the horses were delivered and Dawie was on his way with the cattle he was looking forward to a new life. To the east Blake saw the red sun peeking above the dunes and the silhouettes of two men on horseback.
Blake looked to Dawie, who nodded, indicating he had seen them too. Dawie took his Lee–Metford rifle, an older but well cared for predecessor of Blake’s Lee Enfield, from its holster by the saddle and chambered a round. Dawie cradled the rifle across his lap. Blake opened his oilskin coat to make sure his Broomhandle Mauser was within easy reach.
The two riders closed on Dawie and Blake, and as they got closer the sun climbed, and Blake recognised them.
‘Du Preez, de Waal,’ Blake said, nodding to the two Afrikaners.
Blake reined in his mount, stopping twenty metres short of the Boers. Both men were traders, like him, and he knew from bar-room talk that the pair had been on commando, fighting against the British and colonial forces during the war in South Africa. That in itself was not unusual for men of their age, but they had moved to German South West Africa rather than live in their birth country under British rule. They were frequent visitors to Upington and de Waal was the man who had tried to molest Liesl in Rassie’s bar. While he and Blake had traded blows that night, they hadn’t fought since.
‘I’m curious,’ Blake said. ‘Who would have told you that I was moving horses?’
Du Preez shrugged. ‘It’s hard to keep the movement of fifty animals a secret in a small town like Upington. I tried to buy some myself to sell this side of the border and old Stephanou told me you’d bought up all his stock.’
Blake nodded. The story checked out.
‘Where are the cattle?’ Dawie asked the men.
De Waal indicated with a flick of his head. ‘Over that far dune, grazing.’
‘All right,’ Blake said. ‘Let’s have a look.’
They walked their horses to the base of a dune.
‘We must dismount here,’ du Preez said. ‘It’s quicker if we climb the dune rather than ride all the way around to the valley.’
‘Take your rifle with you,’ Blake said quietly to Dawie, who nodded.
Blake got off his horse and lagged behind as du Preez set off with Dawie beside him. De Waal was between him and the others. Blake noticed the two Boers had both left their rifles on their horses.
‘I like your rifle, boy,’ du Preez said to Dawie. ‘Lee–Metford? An old one but a good one.’
‘Yes,’ Dawie said, pride evident on his young face.
‘Can I have a look at it?’
‘It’s loaded,’ Dawie said.
‘I know how to handle one of these almost better than I do a woman.’ Du Preez laughed.
‘Dawie,’ Blake called. He would never hand another man his weapon, unless it was unloaded and cleared.
Dawie looked over his shoulder but he was already passing his treasured weapon to du Preez.
Du Preez took the rifle, swung around and fired from the hip, shooting Dawie in the chest.
The young Nama was blown backwards and rolled down the hill. Blake reached for the Mauser at his belt as de Waal spun around to face him. De Waal lifted a Colt revolver but Blake fired first, two shots from his automatic, and knocked him down.
As de Waal fell Blake could see that du Preez had brought Dawie’s Lee–Metford up to his shoulder and was taking careful aim, waiting for his moment. Blake pulled the trigger again, but du Preez was fifty yards up the dune. It was long range for a pistol, but not a rifle.
Blake fell onto his back, and while he felt no pain immediately he put his fingers on his belly and they came away red.
Du Preez half jogged, half slid down the loose sand of the dune and came to Blake. He looked down at him. ‘If you think I’m going to put you out of your misery, you’re wrong, Blake.’
Blake stared up at him, meeting the other man’s eyes. Du Preez knew his real name; this was not just a crooked deal. He had been betrayed.
‘You don’t deserve a quick end for what you’ve done. You can bleed, burn or freeze to death, depending on whether the bullet, the sun or the cold night take you first.’
Du Preez spat on him, then turned and walked away. Blake said a prayer for Claire and closed his eyes.