This brief statement of the case for the prosecution being finished, Panda asked Saduko whether he pleaded guilty or not guilty.
“Guilty, O King,” he answered, and was silent.
Then Panda asked him if he had anything to say in excuse of his conduct.
“Nothing, O King, except that I was Umbelazi’s man, and when you, O King, had given the word that he and the Prince yonder might fight, I, like many others, some of whom are dead and some alive, worked for him with all my ten fingers that he might have the victory.”
“Then why did you desert my son the Prince in the battle?” asked Panda.
“Because I saw that the Prince Cetewayo was the stronger bull and wished to be on the winning side, as all men do–for no other reason,” answered Saduko calmly.
Now, everyone present stared, not excepting Cetewayo. Panda, who, like the rest of us, had heard a very different tale, looked extremely puzzled, while Zikali, in his corner, set up one of his great laughs.
After a long pause, at length the King, as supreme judge, began to pass sentence. At least, I suppose that was his intention, but before three words had left his lips Nandie rose and said:
“My Father, ere you speak that which cannot be unspoken, hear me. It is well known that Saduko, my husband, was my brother Umbelazi’s general and councillor, and if he is to be killed for clinging to the Prince, then I should be killed also, and countless others in Zululand who still remain alive because they were not in or escaped the battle. It is well known also, my Father, that during that battle Saduko went over to my brother Cetewayo, though whether this brought about the defeat of Umbelazi I cannot say. Why did he go over? He tells you because he wished to be on the winning side. It is not true. He went over in order to be revenged upon Umbelazi, who had taken from him yonder witch”–and she pointed with her finger at Mameena–“yonder witch, whom he loved and still loves, and whom even now he would shield, even though to do so he must make his own name shameful. Saduko sinned; I do not deny it, my Father, but there sits the real traitress, red with the blood of Umbelazi and with that of thousands of others who have ‘_tshonile’d_’ [gone down to keep him company among the ghosts]. Therefore, O King, I beseech you, spare the life of Saduko, my husband, or, if he must die, learn that I, your daughter, will die with him. I have spoken, O King.”
And very proudly and quietly she sat herself down again, waiting for the fateful words.
But those words were not spoken, since Panda only said: “Let us try the case of this woman, Mameena.”
Thereon the law officer rose again and set out the charges against Mameena, namely, that it was she who had poisoned Saduko’s child, and not Masapo; that, after marrying Saduko, she had deserted him and gone to live with the Prince Umbelazi; and that finally she had bewitched the said Umbelazi and caused him to make civil war in the land.
“The second charge, if proved, namely, that this woman deserted her husband for another man, is a crime of death,” broke in Panda abruptly as the officer finished speaking; “therefore, what need is there to hear the first and the third until that is examined. What do you plead to that charge, woman?”
Now, understanding that the King did not wish to stir up these other matters of murder and witchcraft for some reason of his own, we all turned to hear Mameena’s answer.
“O King,” she said in her low, silvery voice, “I cannot deny that I left Saduko for Umbelazi the Handsome, any more than Saduko can deny that he left Umbelazi the beaten for Cetewayo the conqueror.”
“Why did you leave Saduko?” asked Panda.
“O King, perhaps because I loved Umbelazi; for was he not called the Handsome? Also you know that the Prince, your son, was one to be loved.” Here she paused, looking at poor Panda, who winced. “Or, perhaps, because I wished to be great; for was he not of the Blood Royal, and, had it not been for Saduko, would he not one day have been a king? Or, perhaps, because I could no longer bear the treatment that the Princess Nandie dealt out to me; she who was cruel to me and threatened to beat me, because Saduko loved my hut better than her own. Ask Saduko; he knows more of these matters than I do,” and she gazed at him steadily. Then she went on: “How can a woman tell her reasons, O King, when she never knows them herself?”–a question at which some of her hearers smiled.