9. THE MASKED ROBBER PREVAILS
Chapter 1
The evening breeze blows cool against the faces of the two men sitting motionless on the black horses. Animal and rider blend into the darkness, disappearing among the bushes. The only movement is the flickering of the horses’ ears and the long tails gently swaying in the breeze. But even this creates the impression of delicate leaves rustling in the gentle wind.
Both riders are dressed in tight-fitting shirts and trousers. Black gloves and sandals cover their hands and feet. Black masks cover their eyes. They stand on the slope of a low hill, so that even their dark figures are not visible against the sky.
They listen attentively. Then they hear the sound of hooves on the hard road winding through the valley just in front of them. The sound is coming from the direction of Stellenbosch.
“That must be them, Jean,” says the rider closest to that side, gently nudging the reins against the neck of the black mare beneath him to prevent the animal from neighing.
“I hope so, Andre,” replies the other. “One gets stiff from sitting still.”
“We will have to get closer to see properly,” Andre suggests.
“On foot then,” Jean answers. “We will leave the horses here.”
They slip out of the saddle and silently descend the hill until they are right beside the road. They crouch behind two low bushes and wait patiently.
Two figures emerge from the darkness. The riders pass by them at a leisurely pace.
“Those must be the scouts,” Andre remarks.
They can feel the pounding of hooves in the damp earth beneath them. Every sense in them is sharp and alert.
A group of about twelve riders goes by. They ride in single file, deep in the muddy tracks.
“He is in the middle of the group.” It is Andre speaking again. “His hands are tied behind his back.”
“I have seen it, yes,” comes the dry reply. “His feet are also bound under the horse’s belly.”
“They are guarding him closely, are they not?” Andre suggests.
“It is the tension in the air,” Jean calmly replies. “It is the result of injustice and violence. When a government feels unsafe, it acts harshly when someone speaks against it.”
He remains silent. The sound of the horses’ hooves fades away on one side, but from the other side, others draw closer.
“That is the rear guard.”
“How many of them?”
“It sounds like two. If there were two in the front, there probably would not be more than two at the back.”
“Should we let them pass, Jean, or...?”
“No. You stay here, Andre. I will sneak over.”
He does not explain further. The dark figure silently slides out from behind the bush and disappears like a shadow on the other side of the road.
The voices of the approaching riders are muffled but clearly audible. They sound at ease.
“If we had left earlier, we would have been there by now,” grumbles one. “What difference does it make? The distance is still the same.”
“It is midnight before we arrive in Cape Town. Then most of the places are already closed. After a boring day like today, I feel like going out and having some fun.”
“A good night’s rest will do you good.”
“I sleep enough,” he sighs. “Well, a soldier’s life is a dog’s life. Especially in a country where unrest always threatens. Anyway, I do not believe half of the stories. Every time a miserable peasant opens his mouth too wide, everyone screams treason. Every person surely has an opinion. Where in the world have you ever heard of a government that had the full support of every dear member of the popula
