How did we get here?

As much as he hoped that she would see through him and refuse, he also hoped that she would go and carry out the mission.  He was no coward, but the implications of his plan were suddenly heavy on his heart.
He hesitated.
If he let her go, he had no control of how she would be received.  If inDuna Mjaan realised how close she had become to Clere, her life would be at best untenable - at worst, piteously brief.
But if he called her to stay, he and all in the Fort were at risk.  He had come too far.  He had to let history play itself out.

* * * * *

Col. Patrick St.John Clere of the British South Africa Company was an adventurer.  
Although born to a respectable middle class Irish family in 1867, Paddy Clere was never going to be satisfied with his life in provincial Annacotty.  When, in 1884 he got the chance, he boarded a ship to The Cape with no more idea of what the future held than of how he would pay his way.
At the end of the 19th century, The Cape was a hard place, and Clere soon found that he had to make his mark quickly or he would not survive.  The Cape Colony parliament was looking north, and to achieve the hungry expansion, military personnel were as much in demand as were the trackers and linguists.  Clere soon realised that his fastest path to power and the comfort it offered was to “acquire” military status - along with a class-ridden middle name.
When the railhead was established at Kimberly in 1885, Captain Clere rode escort to the second train to travel north.  His natural abilities got him noticed by the rising powers, and it was not surprising that Bonato and Rhodes chose him to carry out an undercover reconnaissance of the new Witwatersrand diggings late in 1886.

The life of the adventurer was well under way.  He was not just an escort and spy.  As disputes arose on the expanding frontier, Clere discovered that he could mediate and soon became recognised as a mobile governor to the peoples beyond the reach of the Cape Government.

And then it happened.

The British South Africa Company was declared under Royal Charter, and Rhodes’ dream of lands in the north was ready to begin.  The Company had nominal right to administer everything from the Limpopo River to Lake Tanganyika.  All they had to do was move north and enact that authority.
And Clere was ready to ride with the column.

* * * * *

That seemed so long ago.
He hesitated, his mind in turmoil.
How could he have got so caught up in this mess?
This was no longer just a game to be played.  The woman in his Fort Victoria room was Ndebele.  He had by his silence misled his own people, and something now told him that the mission he had persuaded her to carry out for the Company was a bad idea.  Although Lobengula’s mighty nation were aware of how the Rudd Concession had affected them, so far there had been limited direct conflict between the Ndebele impi and the settlers with the BSAC.
At least, until now.

* * * * *

Nomvula was ahead of her time.
She should have been subservient.  She should have left the politics to the men, the elders, the izinDuna.
But Nomvula was not content to be a dutiful Ndebele maiden.  She was named as the Bringer of Rain, and now in her hands lay the coming storm.
She had been intrigued by the strange pale settlers of Fort Victoria.  The Shona chiefs of the area were vassal to her people, but the presence of the White Men seemed to have made them forget.  Although she knew her people did not want to risk direct confrontation of the White Men, they could not allow the Shona to become insubordinate.  The Shona must be made to play tribute – however closely they lived to the White Man.

Her visit to and friendship with Clere in Ft Victoria were her own idea.  Mjaan, her strong and mighty cousin had reluctantly agreed, but on the understanding that she would make herself his friend, but have no part in events beyond that of intelligence gathering.
 
But now everything seemed so different.

Clere seemed trust worthy.  He had said that the Ndebele should enforce their rights to tribute from the local Shona chief.  He had said that the Company was not interested.  He had said that the Shona were a common enemy – his people and her people were friends.
When he said that the British would stand aside, could he be false?  How could he possibly be setting a trap for her people?
It couldn’t be true.  Her whole being knew that she could trust him.  And yet, and yet….

* * * * *

There can never be two powers ruling in the same area.  One must dominate.
It had been so easy to get Nomvula to swallow his plan.  Clere should have been satisfied.  When she took the word back to Mjaan, the inDuna would quickly lead troops north, and the inevitable BSAC conflict with Lobengula’s people could be triggered.
It was a simple plan.  Clere’s natural diplomacy combined with the natural chemistry between him and Nomvula had made it all too easy.

But suddenly he was unsure. He had been sure, but now he doubted.

“Nomv…”.

Her name stuck in his throat.
He forced himself back into control.  I could not let his feelings get in the way.  There was more at stake than this amazing woman.  This was bigger than the two of them.  It was bigger than his career with the Company.

Let her go.  
Let her carry the message to Mjaan.
He turned his back on her and let her go, forcing himself to concentrate on the paperwork on his rough desk.

When she got to the door, Clere hesitated.