by J. T. Edson
Brushing aside the amazed and suddenly terrified man as if he was merely a bothersome insect, Bunduki delivered a backhand swing upwards with the bowie knife. In doing so, he demonstrated one of the advantages offered by the clip point. As sharp as and, in fact, forming an extension of the main cutting surface, the concave arc of the ‘false edge’ proved equally effective by slitting the second man’s throat to the bone and ending his attempt to arm himself.
Even as the blond giant was about to turn and start dealing with the men who he had felled by knocking Sraat-Challig’s dying body among them, he noticed something which brought him to a halt. There was a glinting flicker as a metallic object flashed from the bushes ahead of him. Converging with one of the fleeing Wurkas, whatever it might be did more than merely slit his throat. Nervous reaction alone kept him running for a few more steps. His head was dangling alongside his shoulder by a strip of uncut flesh.
An instant later, another of the departing Wurkas was transfixed by an arrow. Sounds from Bunduki’s rear suggested that the first party were also under attack from the as yet unseen assailants. Guessing what the instrument of decapitation must have been, he wondered who the newcomers might be. No nation with whom he had yet come into contact used a weapon similar to the kind the Karamajong and other tribes of Uganda used as a bracelet-knife. lxxiv
The blond giant was not kept for long before receiving the answer.
Carrying various types of weapons, most of which looked to be Oriental in origin, the mysterious assailants burst into view from all around the clearing. With one exception, he decided—from what Hav-Bart had told him during the boat journey from Jey-Mat—they were a party of the seagoing Cara-Buntes. lxxv
However, it was the exception which gave Bunduki his greatest shock.
Even with her hair cut shorter than on their last meeting, he recognized the tallest of the women to appear. She definitely was not a Cara-Bunte. Clad in her gold lamé costume and waving the ivory hilted sword he remembered so well, but with her legs and feet bare, it was Charole, the Protectress of the Quagga God.
Before Bunduki could begin to wonder how the Mun-Gatah woman had come to be with the Cara-Buntes, for he alone had managed to persuade members of two nations to work in harmony, he heard a swishing hiss coming his direction. Then, although he neither saw nor knew what it was at that moment, a throwing stick caught him on the head and he went down unconscious.
Chapter Sixteen – Tell Us How to Make the “Thunder Powder”
‘Well, Bunduki of the “Earths”,’ said Charole, the Protectress of the Quagga God, looking down at the bound figure of the blond giant. ‘So we meet again.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying so,’ Bunduki replied. ‘The pleasure is all yours.’
‘You’d do well to consider what I mind, or I do not mind,’ Charole warned, kicking the helpless prisoner far from gently in the ribs. ‘I only wish that damned bitch of yours was here for me to deal with.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ the blond giant replied, thinking of certain sounds he had heard while recovering from the blow that had knocked him senseless. ‘She’s not too far away. And when she comes, Protectress-of-the Quagga-God-who-failed-in-her-duty, she’ll make you wish you’d gone the way of the High Priest of your accursed nation.’
‘You speak well, Bunduki of the “Earths”,’ praised War-Lord Torisaki, pushing Charole aside as she tried to deliver another kick to the prisoner. ‘Let us hope that your courage doesn’t make you blind to your danger and suffering when we ask you to tell us how to make the “Thunder Powder”.’
Despite a mutual eagerness on the part of the Protectress, Torisaki, and War-Lady Shushi, to set off in search of the ‘Earths’, they had been unable to do so for several days. Having been sent by the Emperor of Cara-Bunte to have the ‘honor’ of providing the large quantities of meat required for a religious festival, and knowing that any failure would be used as an excuse to depose them, the war-lord and his wife had been too cautious to offer such an opportunity. So they had considered that they must complete the task before embarking upon a private mission. If they did not, on the pretence of investigating their ‘disappearance’, their ruler would send a strong enough force to deal with them. There had been another benefit from attending to their duty. Its completion had, by sending the others to deliver the meat that was gathered, given them an excuse for parting company with all but the crew of their own zaruk. Knowing their race’s inborn aptitude for conspiracy, they were aware that the fewer people involved would reduce the chance of betrayal. To attain the greatest effect from the possession of ‘Thunder Powder’ and ‘Terrifiers’, they must be kept a secret until brought into use.
There had also been benefits in the delay for Charole. It had allowed her to recuperate from the results of the two grueling fights. With the exception of the ‘Thunder Powder’ and ‘Terrifiers’, all her property had been returned. Although she had been kept under observation, no restrictions had been placed upon her movements around the camp. Not that she had wanted to escape. She had never been on a ship, but was sufficiently intelligent to appreciate how travelling in such a manner would offer a better chance of locating the ‘Earths’. It had been her belief that they would have organized lookouts among the Telongas and, even if the latter would not fight, on receiving a warning of enemies approaching the two of them would disappear into the jungle. A force arriving unexpectedly by river, which the Mun-Gatahs had never done, was more likely to catch them unawares.
At last all had been ready for the expedition. Charole had allowed herself, not without trepidation, to be transported in a ‘bullboat’ to the warlord’s zaruk. Showing a surprising compassion, Shushi had supplied her with a medication that had quelled the sea-sickness that had assailed her. After the first qualms had passed, she had enjoyed the novel sensation of travelling in such a fashion. One thing she had learned early in the journey. Useful though her sandals were when riding a horse, they offered no such advantages on the deck of the zaruk. So she had adopted the Cara-Buntes’ way of going barefoot.
Fortune had appeared to favor the expedition. After only one day’s searching along the coast, they had captured the three surprisingly cooperative Wurka-Telongas and were guided to their destination. When discussing the plan of campaign, learning that this branch of the normally pacific nation were noted for belligerence although she had seen no sign of it in the trio who had fallen into their hands, Charole had suggested that-being the only one who knew how to make them work—she should carry along the ‘Terrifiers’. In this she had only been partially successful. While Torisaki had allowed her to do so, he had restricted her to only one of the devices. Bunduki had not noticed it when he first saw her, but she was carrying her ‘fire box’ and a bag containing the ‘Terrifier’ hanging across her shoulders.
For his part, the blond giant had been fortunate. Although the blow he had received knocked him unconscious, the throwing stick had been sent his way at less than full power. In fact, he had been felled by the warlord who was a master in the use of the weapon and wanted to make sure that he was taken alive. As Charole had done on the day of her capture, he had managed to avoid allowing his captors to discover he was conscious for several minutes. By the time the Protectress had come over to favor him with her attentions, his head was clear if aching and he felt that his strength had returned. He had drawn some small comfort from there having been no sign of Dawn and in seeing that, still bound hand and foot, Hav-Bart was alive.
‘Why should I need courage to answer questions?’ the blond giant asked, despite having a good idea of the reason.
‘We wouldn’t ask questions from a warrior of your standing without putting him to torture first and letting him display his courage,’ Torisaki explained, confirming Bunduki’s suspicions. ‘Would you have it any other way?’
‘Even if I knew how to make the “Thunder Powder”, you wouldn’t make me tell you,’ the blond giant stated. ‘No matter what torture you try.’
‘I heard,’ Charole agreed, just as indignantly. ‘He’s lying!’
‘Are you lying, “Earth”?’ the warlord demanded.
‘No,’ Bunduki said, his tone so convincing that he might have been speaking the truth. ‘ And I’ve no desire to be tortured for something that I don’t know. Our people have the secret of the “Thunder Powder”, but no man knows how to make it.’
Unconsciously, the blond giant had given an explanation that the Cara-Bunte couple at least could find acceptable. Among their nation, only women took the profession of herbalist and they were willing to assume the same applied with other races.
‘Does your woman know how to make it?’ Shushi asked.
‘No,’ Bunduki lied.
‘Does she?’ the war-lady repeated, delivering a savage stamping kick to the center of the captive’s chest.
‘No!’ Bunduki said again, the word coming out in a pain-filled gasp.
‘He won’t admit it even if she does,’ Charole stated. ‘Let’s catch her and ask her about it.’
‘How do we do that?’ Torisaki inquired.
‘Make him use one of the “Hairy People’s” calls to bring her here,’ the Protectress suggested. ‘If she hears it, she’ll come.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ the warlord agreed and glanced around. ‘Here, some of you. I want him between those trees. Start to bend them down.’
Eager hands took hold of Bunduki and hauled him to the desired position. Other members of the party grasped the ropes and began to pull. While they were doing so, Torisaki grasped the blond giant by the hair and hauled him into a sitting position, telling Shushi to liberate his hands. By the time the trees were bent sufficiently low, the war-lady had carried out her task. Her husband took one of the shorter ropes and, while she repeated the process at the other side, drew its noose tight around their captive’s right wrist.
‘Keep them held down, but tight as he gets up,’ the warlord commanded, as Shushi employed her rentjong again to sever the rest of the blond giant’s bonds.
Although Deneb-Ginwe had told his captors of the trees’ purpose, he had not given precise details of how they were employed. So Torisaki was making a few errors in the way he was fastening the trees. In the first place, he should not have allowed Bunduki to rise. Secondly and even more important, he ought to have made sure that the blond giant was unable to grip the wrist-ropes.
‘Now, “Earth”,’ the warlord said, after Bunduki had risen. ‘Call for your woman to come.’
‘No!’ the blond giant replied.
Standing on spread apart feet, with his arms bent at shoulder height against the pressure being applied by the taut ropes around his wrists, Bunduki appreciated how his captors had made another mistake in permitting him to adopt such a posture. Not that, he told himself, it would make any great difference in the long run; but it at least gave him a fighting chance to prolong his life.
‘You might as well call her,’ Shushi remarked, almost as if tendering kindly and well-meant advice to a friend. ‘If we have to go into the village for her, we’ll not leave a man, woman or child alive. And, when she sees how you’ve died, she’ll be only too willing to talk.’
‘I won’t call!’ Bunduki declared.
‘Then die, damn you!’ Torisaki bellowed. ‘Release the ropes!’
Obeying their leader’s command, the Cara-Buntes and Charole watched the trees—which had required five men apiece to bend—starting to return to their original positions.
They were stopped long before becoming upright!
Bracing his giant body, Bunduki threw every bit of his enormous strength into combating the strain. He was helped by the various errors that had been made while preparing him for the treatment. Usually the victim was given no chance to make ready and was subjected to a sudden snapping jerk. While he had none of that to add to his misfortunes, he was all too aware of his position. Even if his captors did not take some action to make him relax, he could only restrain the trees while his strength held out. When he weakened, they would straighten and, at the very least, he would be swung upwards and seriously injured.
~*~
‘AAAH-EEE-AAAH-EEE-AAGH!’
The voice uttering the challenging roar of an Australopithecus might be feminine in timbre, but the sound lost little of its awesome menace because it had not been sent out by a male of the species. Coming as it did so unexpectedly, from beyond the bushes at the opposite side of the Place of Punishment to that on which the Wurka-Telonga village was situated, it aroused considerable alarm and consternation for most of the occupants of the clearing.
Everybody except the prisoners looked around, trying to discover who—or what—was responsible for the inhuman-sounding roar. Of them all, probably only Charole and Bunduki recognized the nature of the call and knew what it must portend. However, the blond giant alone was able to guess at how his wife was intending to try and effect his rescue.
Much as Dawn Gunn’s every instinct had been to dash straight out of Hav-Bart’s house and warn her husband of the terrible danger that lay waiting for him, circumstances had prevented her from doing so immediately. Attracted by the commotion, men and women had appeared from the surrounding buildings and soon the whole of the grown up population was foregathered. What was more, every man was carrying something that could be used as a weapon.
One of the last to come on the scene had been Tik-Felum. On seeing what had happened, his face had registered more alarm than grief over finding that his younger son was dead. He had seen enough to warn him that he had committed a dangerous error in tactics. All the men upon whom he was best able to rely for support were unavailable. From the comments he had overheard and the way in which many of the crowd were behaving, he had guessed that he might have need of his coterie’s presence.
Sensing that the villagers were close to rising against the Senior Elder’s tyrannical regime and wanting to avoid bloodshed if possible, Dawn had warned the assembled people that the Cara-Buntes were in the vicinity. However, filled with rage, grief and raw anxiety for her abducted husband’s welfare, Marn-Bara had exposed the treachery of Tik-Felum and his sons. Before Dawn could intervene, giving a cry of rage, Hav-Bart’s younger brother, Kal-Bart, had sprung forward to bury the blade of his machete in the Senior Elder’s skull.
Much to Dawn’s relief, the killing had not provoked an outbreak of inter-factional fighting. In fact, she considered that it had averted hostilities. There were a few men present who had agreed with Tik-Felum’s policy of keeping themselves supplied through the efforts of others who were willing to work, but none felt any inclination to try and avenge him. Already aware of the majority of their fellow villagers’ sentiments, most of them had assumed airs of disinterest from the beginning. The few who had showed resentment, despite appreciating that their days of officially sponsored idleness were probably coming to an end, had taken warning from the menacing attitudes of the people around them. So they had decided that discretion was called for, and they saw no reason to make a pointless display of loyalty to a man who was already dead.
Satisfied that the situation was well under control and needed no further attention on her part, although it had taken several badly needed minutes to achieve this, Dawn had announced that she was going to help her husband. Immediately, Kal-Bart and several other men had offered to accompany her. Telling them that she would reconnoiter alone first and give the call of a ‘Hairy Man if she needed assistance, she had prepared to leave.
Taking her bow from Marn-Bara, the girl had arranged to have the m’kuki retrieved. She had not waited for this to be done, but had asked Hav-Bart’s wife to take care of it. Considering her back-quiver would be more of a hindrance than an aid to the work ahead, she had left it and Bunduki’s archery equipment behind. Then, having cleaned and sheathed her knife, she had set off.
By the time
Dawn had reached the edge of the clearing, Bunduki was sprawling motionless on the ground. There had been no hope of achieving anything in the circumstances, but she had drawn solace from observing that he was bound hand and foot. That implied he was not only alive, but that he had suffered no serious or incapacitating injury.
Hearing the elephants, the girl had considered that they could offer a better and more readily available source of assistance than the men of the village would be. Passing around the fringe of the clearing, she had been too preoccupied with moving as swiftly and quietly as possible to wonder how the Protectress of the Quagga God—who she too had recognized—had contrived to escape death at Bon-Gatah and arrive in the Place of Punishment. Making contact with the animals and obtaining their co-operation had consumed several valuable minutes, but she had been convinced that it was time well spent.
Nor had the girl changed her point of view on returning to the vicinity of the clearing.
That Dawn and her massive assistants had arrived without their presence being detected was not as remarkable as it might appear on the surface. For its size, a forest elephant could move with great stealth and in almost complete silence through even fairly dense undergrowth. Aware of the need to do so, the half a dozen cows and the big herd bull she was riding had approached the clearing with little noise. Their task had been made easier because all the attention of the human beings they were stalking was directed at the blond giant.
Then the girl had impersonated the Australopithecus’ challenge!
As the last note of the eerie cry was ending, so did the elephants’ silence!
