by Jane Godman
Rudi drew a shuddering breath. His eyes returned to their familiar light amber. “Is it over, Annie? Has he finally gone?” And with a sound between a laugh and a sob, I nodded. Because, for us at least, he was.
“Annie, I don’t remember much from when we were in the circle. But you said something that struck me as strange,” Rudi said. Cautiously, I waited. “You told me you knew why I—why Arwen—killed Lucia. And then, just after that, he let me go. What did you mean?”
I thought of the images that filled my mind as I faced Arwen Jago in that shared, never-to-be-forgotten trance. I saw a forest glade, a young woman lovely as the day and Arwen with his crossbow raised. I had to tell Rudi something, but what could I say when the reality would destroy him?
I chose my words carefully. “He killed Lucia because he had no choice.”
He opened his mouth and I knew he wanted more than that, but Finty dashed down the steps and threw herself into his arms. Over her head our eyes met, and the message I sent him was clear. There was no more. There never would be more…for him. But it wasn’t over yet.
I was bone-tired, but I couldn’t sleep that night. I waited on the stoep with the rifle across my knees, and it was nearly dawn when I finally heard footsteps coming toward me. Nicca’s step was unmistakable. He came and sat opposite me, and his eyes were sad as they scanned my face.
“Why, Nicca? How could I have been so wrong?” I asked, and my voice quivered. I took a breath to get it back under control.
“It was easy to fool you, Annie,” he replied, and his voice was gentle. “There was so much else going on.”
“All this time—at Tenebris, on the journey, here at Sonskyn—how could I be such a fool as to allow myself to trust…” We sat in silence for a minute or two.
“When did you know?” he asked. I was glad he didn’t want lengthy explanations.
“I saw it. I could see into Arwen Jago’s mind. I saw what happened in Lucia’s Glade all those hundreds of years ago.” I looked into the blue eyes I loved so much. “You?”
“Only tonight. I thought if it was truly over, that we could finally be together. I waited for you to come to me. When you didn’t, I knew there could only be one reason…that it still wasn’t over. I still don’t know what ‘it’ is this time.”
“That’s what I’m waiting to find out.”
“What will you do when you know?”
“What I always do. I’ll fight.”
He drew me to him then and some of the tension went out of me. “We’ll fight together, Annie. Side by side,” he murmured, and his lips were warm against my temple.
A light step on the wooden floorboards made us both turn quickly. A slender figure was outlined in shadow against the white wall of the house. “I’m sorry,” said Finty, drawing the shawl she wore tight around her shoulders as though it was cold. I put the gun aside. Instinctively, I knew I wouldn’t need it. I gestured for Nicca to go inside the house, and although he threw me a questioning glance, he did as I wanted. Knowing him as I did, I expected he would remain within earshot.
“What are you sorry for?” I asked.
She shrugged. “All of it, I suppose. Then. Now. Not being honest.…” She sighed and turned her head to look directly at me. “I tried to tell you on the ship, but how could I say those words aloud, Annie? Do you realise how utterly insane I would have sounded?”
“Oh, believe me, I know exactly how you felt,” I said with a soft laugh. “Lucia.”
“Don’t call me that.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “Don’t think for a minute that I want this, want her inside me. She wasn’t what legend has made her into.”
“Tell me about it, then,” I invited, holding out my hand and drawing her over to sit with me on the bench that ran the length of the veranda wall. “Who was she? Who are you, Finty?”
“She wasn’t good or pure.” Finty kept her hand in mine as she spoke. Her eyes stayed focussed on the horizon, which became clearer by the minute as the sun made its morning journey above the mountain tops. “Oh, she was beautiful, incredibly so, I think. I can’t see these things, Annie, I can only sense them. Almost as if they are dreams I’ve once had. Somewhere between dreams and nightmares. Lucia was a witch.” She turned toward me, but seemed unable to fully meet my eyes. “I mean a fully-fledged, burn-at-the-stake sorceress. When Arwen first saw her, she was already centuries old, and she had been called upon by one of his enemies to destroy the Jagos. She almost succeeded, too. Arwen was utterly captivated by her. But that was what she intended, of course. The legend is wrong, Annie. Yes, Arwen took Lucia to Tenebris and locked her in a tower. But she seduced him. She used her body—and my God, how she used it!—to ensnare him, so that he couldn’t get enough of her. Arwen was her prisoner. It was never the other way around. It was from Lucia that the legacy of darkness came. One by one the Jagos succumbed to the curse she had placed upon them and, in time, Arwen understood what was happening. Even though her powers were great, Lucia knew he would come for her, so she fled back to her glade. When he found her, he had no choice. While Lucia lived, the Jagos were doomed. But by that time, Arwen’s mind was completely unhinged and, well, you know the rest.” She sighed, her slight frame relaxing as though telling me had relieved some enormous tension within her. “The pact he made with Satan, the sacrifices, the searching for her through the centuries…he didn’t do those things because he loved Lucia. He wanted to find her again because he had sworn vengeance on her.”
“Did Lucia send you to Tenebris?”
Her grey eyes were wide as she turned them to me and looked at me at last. “I’ve often wondered that. Could she have deliberately killed my parents, knowing that Boo, with her big heart, would take me in? But I don’t know. It’s not clear enough, this connection between us, for me to know something like that.”
“What does she want from you?”
She smiled serenely. “She wants me to finish what she started and destroy the Jagos.” She started to laugh. “Oh, Annie, I’m sorry! That was irresistible, but it was worth it to see that look on your face.”
“Is that why you killed Uther?”
“Good God, Annie, no! I killed him because I thought he was going to murder Rudi. Lucia does want to destroy the Jagos and, yes, she is part of me, but I can fight her. I do it every day. All the time.”
I thought of the agony I had borne for a brief time as I battled my own dark demons. “How do you stand it?”
“I have to,” she said simply. “Or I would go mad, wouldn’t I?” A dimple danced briefly at the corner of her mouth. “And since I’m not a Jago, I won’t do that. What now? Will you tell Rudi?” The bright smile vanished at the thought. “I do love him you know, Annie. I would never let Lucia hurt him.”
“It wasn’t me, was it? The snake and the flowers and the chicken didn’t die because I touched them. They died because you touched them.”
“Because Lucia touched them,” Finty corrected. She bent her head low. “To show me what she would do if there was ever another Jago child.”
A cold shiver of dread touched my flesh at the words. I studied her face. It was as sweet and flowerlike as the first day I saw her on the Port Isaac quayside. But we couldn’t go back again to that time. “What do you want to happen to Lucia, Finty?”
“Oh, I think Arwen Jago had the right idea. She should burn in hell where she belongs.”
“Then we have to return to the sangoma.” I rose to my feet and held out my hand. “Come, let us find Jabu. As for the sangoma, she will be expecting us.”
I gazed out at the awe-inspiring view that had been the backdrop to my whole life. A slight sound made me turn my head, and Nicca’s arm was warm as it slid around my shoulders. I smiled and pressed my cheek against his forearm.
“You love it here, don’t you?” he asked, and I nodded.
“I love you more,” I said simply.
“Rudi and Finty are making plans to leave in a few days.”
I was unable to speak
for a moment because of the constriction in my throat. “They have to.” I said at last. “And I suppose we should start preparing, too.”
“Perhaps.” He was silent for a long time, lost in thought as we both looked at the ever-changing mountain scene. “Ouma is getting old. She could use some help around here.” The thought of leaving Ouma again, and this time for good, made my heart ache. “She told me she wished she could leave Sonskyn to you, Annie, now that Rudi will have Tenebris, but she can’t because, if you marry me, you will have to go away, too.” He turned me so that I was facing him. “Remind me, what are we going back to England for, Annie?”
The question puzzled me, and I wrinkled my brow, hardly daring to allow a faint glimmer of hope to dawn. “Because England is your home, but also to help Rudi settle in at Tenebris. He will need people around him who can help.” I couldn’t tell him how much I hated the thought of going back to Tenebris. Even with Uther and the spirits of Arwen and Lucia gone forever, there were too many memories there for me.
“Tristan can do that better than I ever could. And Finty may have been adopted, but she is Cad and Bouche’s daughter through and through. She knows Tenebris better than anyone, and although it pains me to say this, she will make a wonderful countess. She is going to be a great asset to Rudi, and she’ll do Bouche proud.” He was more right than he could ever know about that. I thought of Finty’s bravery in standing up to Lucia, of her determination to destroy the evil spirit who had taken possession of her body once and for all. No one else would ever know the agony she had gone through that day at the hands of the sangoma, but I would never forget the battle she fought to regain control of her own slender body or the awful sacrifice she had been forced to make to be finally rid of Lucia.
“Is Lucia an enraged ancestor?” I had asked the sangoma, when we entered her hut on that pale early morning. Although she spoke perfect Afrikaans, I needed Jabu with me to translate when she went into a trance. That was when she spoke in the language of her ancestors. “Can she be appeased?”
“No. The ancestors are those who have been alive and have died. Just because we cannot see them does not mean they have ceased to exist. Mostly they wish us only good. They protect and care for us. Sometimes the ancestors are angered by what we do and they punish us, like a parent watching over a child. Sometimes an ancestor may become an evil spirit and cause terrible things to happen for future generations. This was the case with your Arwen Jago.” She looked at Finty, who was pale and trembling, and shook her head sadly. “Lucia is not the spirit of an ancestor because she was never human. Lucia is a demon.”
“Can you get rid of her?”
She drew me to one side so that Finty couldn’t hear and said quietly, “There is a ceremony of exorcism, but it is dangerous because the demon will fight and”—she glanced again at Finty—“you are not the only one who carries a child, Annie. But she doesn’t know it yet, and I will not be able to protect her baby as I did yours. Lucia will do all she can to harm the unborn child.”
When I knelt next to Finty on the animal-skin rug to tell her what the sangoma had said, a change had come over her features. Always pretty, she had become suddenly, coldly beautiful. A voice I did not know replaced Finty’s breathy tones. “You think I will give her back without a fight, Jago bitch? I will break her and laugh while you look on helplessly.” Spittle flecked the corners of her mouth. “Did you like what I did to the snake? Will you like it when I cradle your child?”
“Do it,” I told the sangoma. I held Finty’s hand as Lucia raged and cursed and spat and contorted her slender body until it seemed it really must break. I held her in my arms while she wept for the baby she lost, and when the sangoma told us she might never bear another. I lay next to her later and cradled her in my arms as she slept when the herbs the sangoma gave to calm her took effect. At noon, I sent faithful Jabu, with whom our secrets were safe, to Sonskyn with a message to say that Finty was with me because I had gone to the sangoma for treatment following the shock of the previous night. When evening fell, Finty leaned against me as we made our way back to the kraal and made me promise that I would never talk of what had happened to anyone.
“My home from now on is where you are.” Nicca’s voice drove the horror of that day—only a week ago, but already fading into memory—away. He drew me closer. “Let’s stay here at Sonskyn, Annie. I can learn to be a boer, if you and Ouma will be patient with me. I can even get used to the snakes.” His smile, the one that always melted my heart, dawned. “At least, I think I can. We’ll start a new dynasty here, far away from the darkness of Tenebris. Who knows what strengths will have been handed down to our children through the power of the Jago legacy? But here at Sonskyn—between us—we can make sure that inheritance becomes a force for good, Annie.”
I couldn’t break my promise to Finty and explain that Arwen Jago had been right about me. That I was the only hope left for the true Jago line. Rudi would have no sons to inherit the title from him. But who knew what the future might hold? Cad and Bouche had believed that first Petroc and then Rory would be Earl of Athal, but war had cruelly dashed their hopes. Nicca was waiting for my answer. This was about now and him and to hell with everything else. I launched myself at him, throwing my arms about his neck and wrapping my legs around his waist as I planted kisses wildly all over his face.
“Is that a ‘yes’?” Nicca asked, laughing, when he could finally speak.
“It’s a ‘yes,’” I confirmed, sliding back to the ground. “And, Nicca?” Now seemed like the right time to tell him. “That dynasty you mentioned? I think you should know we have already made a start.”
He stared at me with a stunned expression on his face, before saying, with a near-perfect Afrikaans accent, “Fok!”
“Ja, Meneer Jago.” I nodded solemnly, reaching up to shut his dropped jaw with one finger. “I expect that was what did it.”
Epilogue
South African Political Blog, 2014
Legacy of Light
So to whom can we entrust this great rainbow nation of ours if it is to develop and grow in the right direction? Over the coming weeks, we will feature some of the next generation of South African politicians and ask if they are up to the job of continuing Madiba Mandela’s legacy.
It has already been noted here that Kwa-zulu Natal’s own Tristan Ndebele has all the necessary credentials. Great-grandson of the legendary outspoken anti-apartheid campaigner, Annie Jago, he began his legal career working alongside his mother, civil rights lawyer, Eleanor Jago-Ndebele, before becoming involved in local politics.
Mr Ndebele reinforces his commitment to fighting racial dominance of any hue. “I am black, but I’m not saying that black people alone should rule South Africa. My great-grandmother was white, but she fought against white superiority in this country because it was wrong,” he says, pointing to the photograph on his desk of Annie Jago and her husband Nicca. “She was my inspiration. It was from her that I inherited my strength, passion and determination. I believe in what Mandela said—‘South Africa belongs to all who live in it, black and white.’ Just like Annie Jago, I will fight tirelessly for what is right. And if, as it has been said, I am indeed destined for greatness, it will be because of her legacy.”
