Zulu Heart

by Steven Barnes

  The day seemed to have quieted just for them, just for this moment. “If you have patience, you will learn as well.”

  Her eyes burned, and her lips parted slightly. The tip of her pink tongue traced her upper teeth. He leaned forward and kissed her. Their shared breath was spicy and sweet.

  She returned the kiss, but after a moment, backed away. “My husband,” she said huskily.

  “My wife.”

  They grinned, and at that moment, Kai realized that despite, or perhaps due to his frustration, he was enjoying this game very much indeed.

  Holding hands, Kai and Nandi entered the main house. IziLomo trotted just behind them, attentive but not intrusive.

  Lamiya sat in the parlor, a servant cleaning and buffing her nails. “Did you have a good ride?”

  “Excellent,” Nandi said, and then brightened as a new thought occurred to her. “Would you like a gallop this afternoon?”

  “Perhaps,” Lamiya said. “Yes.” She smiled, pleased by the invitation. She looked at IziLomo. “Will your friend accompany us?”

  Nandi smiled. “Would you wish it?”

  “I have never really known a dog, and your companion intrigues me.”

  “Then let it be.”

  “Oh … Kai? I’m expecting the Guptas for tea tomorrow. I wanted to use a hairstyle more like those of their own homeland, and that last girl isn’t working out. Can’t take direction. Do you think you could find me another? One used to working with hair?”

  “I will see to it,” Kai said. “There is a girl, Tata, who I purchased in Radama. She knows something about adornment. I think that she will suffice, if you would have her.”

  Lamiya cocked her head slightly. “This is the girl from the…?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled. “I would be glad to try her. If she can learn, it might be the best for both of us.”

  Kai spoke to one of the slaves, and they summoned Tata from the kitchen, where she had spent the morning scraping grease from the ovens. She appeared almost at once, smudged and perhaps weary, but eager to please.

  “Tata,” he said.

  “Yes, Sidi?”

  “I would like you to begin to work with my wife’s attendants. I hear from the kitchen that you have clever fingers. Is this true?”

  She lowered her gaze. “I do me best.”

  Lamiya gently cupped her chin, raising Tata’s face until their eyes met. “I never ask for more than your best, Tata. And am never satisfied with less, either. If you are a lazy child, it might be to your advantage to find a position less likely to bring your insufficiencies to my notice. What do you think?”

  Tata blinked, as if trying to calculate the advantages and disadvantages of obscurity. Then she glanced at Kai, then back to Lamiya and nodded. “Ma’am, I be happy to learn anyt’ing you want teach.”

  “Good,” Lamiya said, and then turned to her husband again. “I think she will do just fine.”

  Lamiya appeared perfectly turned out from coiffure to pedicure, and Nandi, for once in her life, felt just a bit overmatched. She herself had many skills and talents, whereas it seemed that Lamiya had been born and bred to one task alone: to be the most exquisite gift one monarch might offer another. Among her own, there was no one to rival Cetshwayo’s daughter. But what standards did Kai hold most closely to his heart? And by those deepest, unspoken standards of beauty and grace, how might Nandi fare?

  The question deviled but did not daunt. There was more than one way to catch a man’s heart….

  While Kai and Lamiya spoke the girl working Lamiya’s nails continued at her clipping, shards falling to the floor. With her toe, Nandi nudged the scraps into a tiny pile, and then pushed them under the chair for later retrieval.

  Kai continued on. “And by the way—thank you for taking over the Gupta lunch. It might well have slipped my mind.”

  To Nandi, Lamiya said, “You will find, Nandi, that your new husband has his uses. Hosting is not one of them. Do you enjoy entertaining?”

  Would the servant notice that the clippings were gone? It was all she could do to keep her guilt from shining in her face. “Supervising the kitchen is a joy—but I don’t know your cuisine. If you would guide me a bit, I think I could make myself useful.”

  Lamiya smiled. “Kai, I think you brought home a gem. Come with me, my sister. We’ll show these Indians how Africa feeds both belly and soul!”

  Nandi waited until Kai, Lamiya, and the body servant had turned their backs, and then scooped up the clippings.

  Despite her stealth, Nandi was observed. The spying eyes were small, and brown, and new to the household.

  Tata had had trepidations about her journey to Dar Kush. Surely the Wakil had lied, and despite all of his words, would want her for his bed. What else did men ever want? But no, to her surprise, that had not been the end result of her travels.

  Dar Kush was a place of wonder, of unknown sights and scents and sensations, glorious sunrises and blissful sunsets. She wanted desperately to fit in, to make herself useful. The Wakil himself was the most fearsome and powerful man she had ever known. When he had stormed into the brothel and forced the cowardly Kaleb to cease his harsh, clumsy thrusting, she had thought him an avenging angel, come to kill them both, that her misery might cease and justice be served.

  She now knew the Wakil to be a man, but what a man! And if she could only find a way to make him think well of her, well, it would be a right blessing.

  This new woman, his second wife, the proud and haughty Zulu girl, was up to something. Tata didn’t know what it was, or what it might mean, or even what she should do about her suspicions. But she would keep them to herself, and wait, and gather.

  And one day, perhaps when it mattered most, she would have what she needed, and then the Wakil would be so proud of her that …

  That he might …

  She was flushing, suddenly aware that her emotions exceeded what a poor slave girl should feel for her owner. Shamed, confused, but not forgetting for a moment what she had seen, Tata retreated.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  The second time that Kai discovered dried urine puddled on his riding boots, he decided it was time to do something about it.

  The fact that he was also stressed, that he felt as if he were an engine on the verge of tearing itself apart, increased his need to correct an increasingly intolerable situation.

  IziLomo had watched the two of them all week, sneaking about, being the very picture of canine obedience when Nandi was near, and then growling throatily as soon as her back was turned. Twice he had tried to speak to Nandi about it, and the situation had become intolerable. He assumed that Nandi always took IziLomo back to his kennel, or up to her room, but obviously she had allowed him to run free long enough to get into mischief.

  And yet, what to do?

  Like most south Bilalians, he had never owned a dog, and didn’t know them well enough to make a judgment, or devise a strategy. Did one treat dogs like horses? Should he take the monster hunting, or play with it, give it bits of meat? A bath?

  The questions raced around and around in his mind.

  On the other hand, an accident for the beast might be arranged as well. Dogs were, he believed, known to simply wander away….

  No. He would not start his marriage with a lie. He owed Nandi, owed himself, more than that sort of disastrous action.

  A thought occurred to him: there had always been dogs in Ghost Town. There had been a dog at the Ouachita crannog. So there was one person he trusted who might have an answer to his puzzle, and it was in search of that person he went.

  Aidan was currently torturing muscles and sinews in the workout area. Today’s exercise in controlled agony involved running and hefting a set of clubs one and a half cubits long and two sep in weight. Tapering to a narrow handle, they were probably the single most widely used exercise device in the world, known from China to India to Persia to Ghana. Kai was pleased with the way the lines of Aidan’s body had grown more a
ngular and sinewy. He forced the Irishman to do sets of twenty club swings, then run a lap around the pasture, and then perform the swings again, over and over again. The combination of steady-state exertion and a brief spike of intensity created a powerful training effect: the ability to work almost endlessly, a capacity for labor that would shame an ox, combined with the speed and dynamism of a race horse.

  At the moment, he doubted if Aidan appreciated the subtle physical science that he and Babatunde had culled to create the program.

  On the other hand, Aidan was perfectly happy to see Kai approach, chiefly because such an approach signaled time for a rest. He came running around a curve, approaching him, and stopped, ribs creaking as he gulped for air.

  “Ho, the warrior,” Kai said.

  “Ho, the lazy noble,” Aidan gasped between retches. This method of increasing wind and power had a tendency to clench the stomach like a fist.

  “I have a question for you,” Kai said.

  “Great. Just wait … until … I stop puking.” He made a few more heaving sounds, and then looked up at Kai, a purely evil expression on his face. “God … I hope you’ve stopped training, Kai. After the shyte you’re putting me through, I would purely love to kick your arse.”

  “Alas”—Kai smiled—“Allah gives us but one life to live, and insufficient years remain in yours to approach such a level.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “At your convenience,” Kai said merrily. “But I really do have a request.”

  And while Aidan waited for his heart to cease galloping, Kai explained his dilemma. Aidan listened, asked questions, and then laughed. “So you know everything about everything, but don’t understand dogs?”

  “They are unclean animals,” he said. “They eat their own feces.”

  “And yours too, given an opportunity. I hope I’m there the next time IziLomo tries to lick your face. Or your wife’s face, which you hope soon to kiss.”

  “You are a dreadful man,” Kai said.

  “Thank you. I do my best.” Aidan leaned back against the fence, and gazed up at the sky. Well,” he said finally. “Like wolves, dogs are pack animals. And the pack always has a leader. He is testing you to see if you are strong enough to lead. If not, he will be the leader.”

  “How do I change that?”

  Aidan smiled. “Not as a man, with sticks and swords and guns. You need to deal with him in the language he understands.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Since he can’t communicate to you in your language, it’s up to you to communicate to him in his.”

  They spoke a while longer, and when it was done, Kai walked away, shaking his head, but at the same time his eyes glowed, as if the promise of a challenge were invigorating.

  Aidan watched him, his formerly helpful smile transforming into something a bit more mischievous as Kai retreated. “Well, boyo,” he said. “Not exactly a lie, was it? Just a little somethin’ to keep life more interesting.…”

  The very next day, Kai decided to implement his plan.

  As always, he and Nandi took a morning ride, and IziLomo accompanied them, running alongside their horses, rarely falling far behind unless Kai truly allowed his mount to gallop. Nandi seemed overjoyed with the chance to let herself blend with her mount and simply surrender to the rhythm of the ride.

  When they were concluded, Kai trotted the horses back to the house, and Nandi dismounted, looking up at him with her lips curved in the slightest of smiles. “What now, Husband?”

  “I thought IziLomo and I would put the horses away.” He turned to the dog, smacking his hands together. “Here, boy.”

  She raised one eyebrow. IziLomo remained where he was, but looked back and forth between the two. Finally she nodded, and said a few words in Zulu, pointing at her husband. IziLomo licked her hand. “Good,” she said. “The two of you need to get to know each other.”

  Kai nodded. “Yes,” he said. “It is time.”

  She bent and scratched the dog’s head. IziLomo looked from his mistress to Kai, perhaps a bit confused. “Go on,” she said. “Go with Kai.”

  “Come, IziLomo,” Kai said again as Nandi headed to the house. Then he turned his horse and led them both toward the barn. He looked back and saw the ridgeback walking slowly behind them, watching him carefully.

  At the barn door Kai dismounted. Once they were alone, he never looked directly at the dog, merely going about his business of removing saddle and preparing the horses for grooming.

  Olaf One-Ear, in the barn sweeping up dung and straw, looked up with a start. “Master!” he cried, then corrected himself. “Sidi. Is there something you require?”

  “No. Not at all. In fact, I would appreciate it if you would find duties elsewhere, allow me to take care of this.”

  “Are you certain?” he looked from Kai to the horses to the dog, perhaps sensing that something was amiss.

  “Absolutely,” Kai said. He kept IziLomo within his peripheral vision, but still had not looked at the dog directly. The servant left, and he saw that the ridgeback stretched its legs and stepped a half cubit to the side, allowing Olaf to pass.

  Kai closed the barn door.

  Light filtered down from a window above the hayloft, and as Kai walked back to the horses, he could feel the dog’s attention on him, a fierce focus not quite like anything he had ever felt before. He had hunted, of course: deer and bear and mountain lion. But once he had been hunted, and that sensation was similar to what he felt now.

  Kai hung the saddles and led the horses to their stalls, locking them in.

  Now the wide aisle between the rows of stalls was empty, straw-strewn, ready.

  He turned and faced IziLomo. The dog crouched near the door, watching him carefully.

  “I know what you’ve wondered,” Kai said, and unbuttoned his shirt. “You wondered if, without my sword, my gun, my knife, I could survive you. You wonder if it would be worthwhile to wait and find a time when I am without these things, and then to determine the answer to that question your heart holds dear.”

  He slipped his shirt off. The ride had warmed his body and loosened his muscles. A thin sheen of sweat gleamed along his torso’s graceful lines and curves.

  “I say these things knowing that you cannot comprehend my words, but may well understand the emotions behind them.” He unbuckled his pants and let them drop, stepping free from them so that he stood before IziLomo clad only in his undergarments.

  “I say these things knowing that you love the woman I love. That you want only what is good for her. That being so, you need to know me better. And what I say to you, one male to another, is: why wait?”

  He stood with his legs spread apart, arms spread, in a posture of openness and perhaps even vulnerability. He bent his knees, bringing himself down closer to IziLomo’s level.

  “Come,” Kai said. “Let us learn what is true.”

  His heart beat faster than he liked, but he felt good, loose. He met IziLomo’s eyes directly, and the dog shook itself and rose. It seemed to Kai that at that moment the air took on a deeper chill.

  This, he knew, was madness. The intelligent thing to do was probably to net the beast and simply beat it into submission.

  And yet … something about what Aidan had told him of dogs rang true, seemed the same for both beasts and men. And as he had explained to Nandi only days before, he had energy to burn off.

  His complete focus was on the hound as it approached him, head down, tail up, eyes locked on his own. Kai could feel it, could sense that IziLomo had recognized and accepted the challenge.

  The muscles and tendons in IziLomo’s back and shoulders bunched and released. Perhaps because he had been so irritated with Nandi, Kai hadn’t really noticed how majestic her companion truly was, and for an instant felt inadequate. Then Kai remembered himself and watched IziLomo’s jaws. His teeth. Those were the dog’s only real weapon. If he could neutralize them, he might just emerge from this encounter unscathed.
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  If not, well, Shaka was probably watching this even now, and hell’s corridors would peal with Zulu mirth.

  IziLomo’s approach had been measured and slow. At a distance twice the length of Kai’s leg he ceased his advance and began to circle. A very slow padding, almost as if he were trying to get behind Kai, and that sense chilled him. For just an instant Kai allowed his mind to stray, thinking of the first time he had seen Nandi and the hound together—

  As if IziLomo could somehow detect his distraction, the dog lunged for his leg from a position just to his right rear.

  Low. Stay low. Stay on the hound’s level. Make it personal. Motion timed with a sharp puff of exhalation, Kai pivoted back. IziLomo’s jaws snapped on air, and as they did, Kai braced himself, and clubbed the dog in the neck with his balled fist.

  The blow would have broken a human femur. IziLomo didn’t even react, merely backed and lunged again. This time, he adjusted to Kai’s speed of retreat, the teeth gnashing shut only a digit away from his skin. Kai pivoted, stepped back, and then even more swiftly slid in again, striking with the ball of his foot in the dog’s heavily padded ribs. The kick was perfectly timed and distanced, and the heavy thwack made him wince sympathetically. That blow would have sent a man writhing to the ground clutching broken ribs.

  Again, no apparent effect at all.

  A furrow of self-doubt wrinkled his brow, swiftly banished by discipline. He felt his breathing shift, realized that it indicated a surge of fear, and deliberately calmed and centered himself, reintegrating body, mind, and emotion as he did. Breath. Posture. Motion. This Yoruban triumvirate, and the Sufic breathing techniques that united them, were the gift Babatunde had given him, the Cricket’s way of continuing the training that Malik had begun. Any distraction, any fear, any anger, any tension will begin the disintegration of your structure. It will manifest physically before it occurs mentally or spiritually. Learn to recognize its first signs. Use those first signs to trigger the reintegrative response. Breathe, as in the zikr breath, saying “Allah,” never ceasing the flow. Control your abdominal muscles—they control your breathing. Hold your head as if you are suspended by a string from above. Thighs tight. Hips loose.