‘Poor bugger,’ he muttered to her, as Charia read the supplies list and clattered away on his abacus. ‘I’m surprised he’s still able to walk upright, after ten years with that canny old bastard. I don’t know why he stays here, wearing rags instead of a shuka and a ton of beads. He can’t be more than forty years old, and he’s bent double from carrying sacks as heavy as he is. But he’s always cheerful. Beats me.’

Camilla watched as the Samburu lugged containers of paraffin and flour and maize, out to Piet’s vehicle. Sarah fled the glare of noon and leaned on the counter, drinking from a bottle of warm lemonade and making a face. Hannah remained outside, ensuring that the trailer was loaded properly and the canvas sides securely refastened.

‘We’re ready,’ Anthony called out. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Bwana, I would like a lift to Isiolo.’ A young Samburu warrior had appeared out of nowhere. He stood slim and upright before them in his tribal finery, a scarlet robe tied in a knot over one shoulder. Rows of beaded collars and bracelets adorned his ears and neck, wrists and ankles, and his long hair was plaited with red mud and cow dung. He smiled, a flash of white in a burnished, beautiful face. The series of raised marks on his cheeks proclaimed his journey through circumcision to manhood. He had planted his spear into the ground and he stood leaning against it on one long leg, a creature of perfect grace and balance.

‘No room. Sorry.’ Piet shook his head and finished loading the trailer.

‘Why did you turn him down?’ Sarah asked.

‘He may look wonderful, but he stinks of cow dung and sweat, and he’s covered in flies Not the ideal travelling companion inside a car. And I can’t have him on top of the trailer. It’s dangerous going over these corrugations. Han, why don’t you drive with me for the next leg?’

They climbed into the cars and turned towards the main road, leaving the warrior gazing at them, motionless and impassive. As they drove past him he moved suddenly, pulling his spear from the ground and raising his arm so that Camilla ducked in her seat and Sarah let out a small exclamation of alarm. Then he spat on the ground and turned away before vanishing in the swirl of red dust behind them. The car rattled and skidded over the rutted surface, and a hot wind blew through the windows, bringing with it a film of sand that coated their faces and stiffened their hair and clothing.