Amy nodded as she took a drink of water. “Well, there is a lot of flat land here. But it’s also a little mountainous in the distance.”
I nodded, and turned toward the west to photograph the majestic animals in their natural habitat. A few of the horses stopped drinking, looked up, and ran away. I thought their behavior was a little odd, but it made for great photography. I snapped a few pics as they ran. I could post these on my blog and Instagram. Now all of the animals were scampering off. I caught them all in their photographic glory.
“Amy! Are you seeing this? It’s like they all decided to run off at once or something!”
Amy didn’t respond.
“Amy?” I turned around.
Amy’s normally rosy cheeks had turned stark white. She didn’t move a muscle; she only looked at a group of ten hyenas that had silently surrounded us.
My heart beat out of my chest as I watched them pace back and forth around us and show us their huge teeth. I was hungry myself. I wanted to make dinner, not be dinner.
Suddenly a large, tan skinned man with a pudgy face appeared behind the hyenas, his face in the shadows.
“Attack the women,” the figure ordered the hyenas in a deep voice. “Show no mercy.”
Amy and I were terrified, but we could do nothing but stand frozen.
“Andrea?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you, girl. Nice knowin’ ya.”
“I love you too, Amy. I’m sorry I made us take this crazy trip!”
Hell, even if we wanted to move, what were we about to do, fight off almost a dozen hyenas?
We were screwed.
CHAPTER TWO
The hyenas closed in on us, circling around to ensure we had nowhere to run and no escape. My brightest idea was to run closer to the oasis and climb a tree to get away. Even then, there were forty meters of ground between us and the nearest tree. No way was I about to make that run without getting tackled and probably mauled. Amy and I stood back to back. I grabbed a stick. She grabbed a rock.
Like those weapons were going to do us any good against ten of these beasts. We cowered in fear as the animals drew closer.
One of the beasts growled and surged toward us, picking up speed. I tried to close my eyes but I was frozen in terror.
As the hyena leaped through the air to bite our throats, another beast met him in mid-air! I lurched backward to stay out of their way. Judging by its spots, a giant jaguar fought the hyena rolling on the ground, pawing and snarling in the dirt.
More jaguars showed up, attacking the hyenas! It was all such an incredible blur of jaguar and hyena spots before our eyes. And it didn’t seem to make sense! Why would these jaguars save us?
“Amy, are jaguars and hyenas native to the mountains?” I whispered, shaking.
“Yes. Yes they are,” she said.
“Well alright then.” Clearly I needed to brush up on my national geographic knowledge.
Amy and I didn’t have time to think anymore—we just ran. A quick dash took us back into the tall grass where it would be easier to hide. But as we neared the edge of the savannah, an olive skinned man appeared, seemingly materializing out of thin air.
“Ladies, why do you run? Please, don’t go,” he said calmly and sternly, holding up a hand right in front of us.
“We’re getting the hell out of here, that’s why! Do you see this? Those hyenas are trying to kill us! Out of my way, buddy!” I yelled. We tried to step past him, but he and a couple of snarling Jaguars stopped us.
“Don’t try to run. You will not escape. We just saved you, did we not?”
Amy and I eyed each other in disbelief and stopped in our tracks.
“I suppose so. But I’m only here to find my father.” I figured stating our mission would let the man know that our intention here was pure. We were here with the truest of motives: self-discovery.
“I know what you’re here for,” he said, staring at me without smiling.
“Y-You know?” I stuttered.
“Yes. It doesn’t matter what you’ve come here searching for. You’re trespassing, and you are to be taken in front of the counsel and tried for your crimes. Both of you.”
“Tresspassing?! This is wilderness.”
“It’s Jaguar territory.”
“What’s the penalty for trespassing, may I ask?” Amy said.
He looked at us grimly.
“According to the code, the penalty ranges from a year in prison to death.”
“Death? You might put us to death? What the heck kind of code is that?” I quipped back.
“We have to abide by the natural code to keep the order.” His eyes were a light brown color with hints of yellow and blue, a strange color.
* * *
The man who had captured us wasn’t much for conversation, but Amy and I made eyes like we should try anyway. We needed to do our best to sweet talk our way out of this situation. A death sentence was definitely not something we were interested in.
“So what’s your name?” she asked sweetly.
“They call me Shooter,” he responded.
“Oh. That’s an interesting name.”
The man didn’t take the bait, and instead chose to keep looking forward and not continuing the conversation. He had rugged good looks, and was and muscular with an olive skin complexion that made me wonder if was maybe Greek.
“Well I’m Amy. Do I know you from somewhere?”
He looked at her and squinted. “No, you don’t.”
“And I’m Andrea,” I added with a forced smile, trying to muster some kind of politeness for the man who had just saved, but also kidnapped us.
As we walked, several jaguars accompanied us. I couldn’t tell if they were there to keep us from running off or to fend off possible attackers. Or both.
“So, Shooter, care to explain what just happened back there? Why did those hyenas come after us?” I inquired.
Shooter said nothing, his gaze frozen forward.
“And why did you save us? But now we’re up for the death penalty? This isn’t making a whole lot of sense,” Amy added.
Legitimate questions, I thought. I was wondering the same things myself.
Shooter simply looked at us and made an expression not quite resembling a smile.
After a mile or so of walking—and not much talking—Shooter led us to a small town with just a couple of roads and several dozen wooden cabins. As Amy and I strode down the road, people stared at us. In our tank tops and cargo shorts, All of the women stared at us as we walked by. The women wore tribal cloth-wear, which seemed appropriate considering how hot it was. And all of the men went shirtless.
“Is it just me or are all of the men here really damn muscular?” I quipped to Amy.
“You’re right. It’s like walking around the set of a Calvin Klein in the wilderness shoot or something.”
The strangest thing about the town was that jaguars seemed to be everywhere. They snarled and they prowled amongst the people, almost like dogs in an American city—except without leashes. And although I was a little taken aback, I noticed that nobody seemed to mind them.
Amy and I trudged on to wherever this man was leading us. The sun had already set an hour ago, and the stars and the moon lit the sky more than the sun. We were hungry and tired.
Eventually we reached a hut that seemed to be the centerpiece of the town. Although nothing majestic—the roof was made of straw like all of the others—this hut was quite larger than the others. We followed Shooter inside.
The inside of the hut was lined with several beautiful sculptures and statues of jaguars, the beautiful beasts all carved out of wood. At the center of the hut, an orange carpet and a short flight of stairs led to a man on a throne carved out of wood. The man on the throne seemed different.
“I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before,” I whispered to Amy, nodding in the man’s direction. He seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t tell where I might know him from.
“Yea
h, probably in hot Inked guys of Instagram,” Amy ribbed.
She was right. He was wonderfully handsome. He had a big muscular frame and wore an outfit like a Spartan warrior that showcased his muscles—a helmet, loincloth, and ridiculous shoulder pads. He gripped a spear in his hand. For a moment I didn’t know if I should be scared of him or attracted to him. A chill ran through me and I realized I was both of those things.
He and Shooter were the only ones we had seen who wore no beard. I figured that might be because he was in a position of leadership in the tribe, but he seemed young to be the leader of this village. His chest and arms had a litany of tattoos.
Two big jaguars sat on either side of the throne beside him, guarding him.
Amy and I looked at each other, wide eyed. Shooter approached the man on the throne. Two guards came up from behind Amy and me to cover our mouths and impede us from protesting. They were strong, and struggling was no use.
Shooter spoke. “King Jacob Napletoni the Third. I salute you.” Shooter bowed. The King was silent. The jaguars on both sides of him purred.
Napletoni. Where did I know that name? I tried to think of it, but my mind felt groggy.
“Thank you, Shooter,” King Napletoni responded. “And what do you have for me here?”
“I present you with the newly taken prisoners. We found them trespassing near the oasis,” Shooter said, eyeing both Amy and I with squinty eyes.
“I take it they are from the neighboring tribe?” he asked.
“The hyenas were interested in them, yes.”
“Well done, brother.”
A man in a robe who had been seated behind the throne stepped up and whispered something in the King’s ear.
“You were trespassing on our territory,” the King began, seeming to respond to what the robed man had whispered in his ear. “The standard penalty for that is execution.”
I shook free of the hand on my mouth and managed to speak. “Excuse me, but Sir, if I could just explain,” I interjected before the guard recovered and silenced me again.
“Hush,” Shooter said.
“Put them in the holding cell for now,” King Napletoni finally directed, after a long pause. “We’ll have a trial later. Or perhaps they’ll be more valuable as bargaining chips.”
Did he just say we were bargaining chips?
My mind began to race. What if my father were part of the neighboring tribe? Maybe he led the hyenas in the same way that Jacob led the jaguars? If I was adjusting to a new reality where jaguars were led around by people, surely this wasn’t the craziest idea. Had I walked right into my own demise?
The guards held Amy and me in place. I struggled to break free. I needed to explain myself. If I could just get this guy’s hand off of my mouth again.
I managed to turn around and knee my captor in the family jewels. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. I broke free, ran to the orange carpet and flung my body on the steps in front of the king. The guards and the jaguars closed in on me.
“King Napletoni, please give me just one minute to explain myself! I believe this may be a simple misunderstanding!” I pleaded.
The King’s guard grabbed me by the shoulder and jerked me up, covering my mouth again. The jaguars jumped in front of the king to protect him.
“Stand down,” King Napletoni said. “I want to hear what she says.”
The guard removed his hand from my mouth.
“What is your name?” King Napletoni continued.
“My name is Andrea Diggers. Look, King Napletoni, we didn’t mean to trespass. I came here on a quest to find the village of my father, who I haven’t seen in years. He was last seen in this area.”
“Oh? And what was his name?” King Napletoni asked.
“His name was Gabriel Diggers.”
Murmurs spread amongst the people who were present in the king’s court. “Gabriel the Digger! That’s the daughter of Gabriel the Digger!” they said.
“Do you know my father?” I asked.
“Silence!” King Napletoni demanded, and the crowd obeyed instantly. “You really claim to be the daughter of Gabriel the Digger? That seems impossible.”
King Napletoni got up from his chair and walked down the steps toward me.
“I’m telling the truth,” I said. “Why would I lie? Why else would I come all the way here to a small village, risking my life?”
“I don’t know. But I do know you would say anything at all to get out of a death sentence now, wouldn’t you?”
King Napletoni stopped right in front my body and stared through me with piercing brown eyes. I’m almost six feet tall, which makes me bigger than most men I know, but I had to look up several inches to try and meet his gaze. He reached out his hand and touched his finger to my chin, pointing my head up slightly. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure the king could hear it.
“The resemblance is striking,” he said. “But it’s impossible. Gabriel did mention he had a daughter, but he said nothing about her being deliciously gorgeous.”
“Did you just say delicious?” I repeated. A chill had run through my body from head to toe when Jacob said that word. The crowd fell silent for a moment. The guard tightened his grip on my arm, twisting it up behind me against my back. “I’m not sure what to tell you. I’m Andrea.”
“Let her go,” King Napletoni finally said after a dramatic pause. The guard finally released his grip on me completely. The king stared at me, as if trying to decode me. “And this is your friend?”
“Amy,” I answered. “She’s my best friend from back home.”
The king’s lips pointed upward in the slightest of smiles. “And you both must be tired and hungry.”
Amy and I nodded.
“So hungry I could eat a tiger,” Amy said, looking around. The reaction to her joke wasn’t as good as she had hoped.
“Shooter, will you please show these guests to the dining room?”
My stomach grumbled at the mention of a dining room.
“Of course. Right this way, ladies.”
“Um, yeah, I think I’m okay with that,” I managed to say calmly and diplomatically. As if I had any choice in taking a directive from the king. I could probably eat an entire plate of whatever food they were about to give us—maybe two. But the king didn’t have to know that. Shooter led Amy and I to the back of the hut.
“Well, that was something else!” Amy whirred once we were out of the court. “Now that we’re okay I can say what I was thinking all along.” Her voice changed to a low whisper. “IsKingNapletoni an Alexander Skarsgard doppelganger, or is it just me?” she asked.
“Alex Skarsgard? Who is that?”
“Jesus Tennessee,” she poked me. “He’s the Swedish guy playing Tarzan in the 2016 remake. Here.” She whipped out her Android and showed me the picture. Even though we didn’t have internet, she had the picture saved. And I have to say she was spot on.
“Dear God, he is.”
“What kind of king is that ripped? Aren’t kings supposed to be old and fat?”
I shrugged. “Where’d you get that idea?”
“Well, you know, that’s how they made it seem in all of my college classes. The king was always old, Spanish, and kind of a kook.”
I didn’t have the best feeling in the world, but we would eat some food and maybe we would find more out about my father. What’s the worst that could happen? Plus, maybe I would get some good photographs out of this whole deal.
CHAPTER THREE
As soon after Amy and I sat down, Shooter came back and joined us at the table while we waited for King Jacob Napletoni. The scene wasn’t exactly how I pictured a king’s dinner table. It was a small, wooden table with a simple white tablecloth and just enough room for four people.
A delicious smelling chicken soup was brought out as the first course.
“Red or white wine with dinner?” Shooter asked us.
“I mean wine is fine. You don’t have any shooters around here we could do though?�
�� Amy said, and then paused a moment while Shooter looked at her, confused. “You know. Shots.”
“Uh, no shooters here,” Shooter said, chuckling a little.
“You sure? I see one shooter that I’d like to do.”
Shooter shook his head with a cocky grin and returned Amy’s look. “Maybe later.”
She squirmed a little at that response. Shooter poured each of us some red wine.
“Believe it or not, we don’t get a lot of beautiful girls who wander through the area between the plains and the mountains and end up in the Village of Jarona.”
“Yes, it is quite a hidden town,” I agreed, swirling my wine in it’s glass. “To be honest, I don’t even remember how we arrived here. So, is it going to be just us or where is the King?”
“He’s finishing court and he’ll be in to join us shortly after.”
King Napletoni appeared at the door, flanked by two servant girls on either side. Shooter stood up as he entered. “Sir.”
Amy and I followed suit and stood up.
“Please, sit,” he said, gesturing his hands in a downward motion before taking a seat himself.
King Napletoni took a sip of his soup, so Amy and I figured it was okay to dig in ourselves.
“Ladies, I do apologize for the way you were treated when you arrived,” King Napletoni added. “But you must understand that this is the wilderness and we must not take intrusions on our territory lightly.”
“Yes . . . I can certainly understand that,” I said, swirling the wine around in my glass and taking another sip. “I’m not entirely sure how we navigated our way here ourselves.”
Now that I saw him up close, I noticed that King Napletoni had one of the most beautiful chiseled jaws I’d ever seen. His eyes were deep blue and his incredibly muscular body seemed flexed even though it wasn’t. He wore a vest with no sleeves and a loincloth—an interesting outfit for a king. Then again, it was hot as heck here even at night. A few tribal tattoos and words and phrases lined each of his arms and chest.
“Okay, King Napletoni—” I started to say, but the king cut me off.
“Please, Andrea. Stop with that ‘King’ stuff. King Napletoni was my father’s name. Call me Jacob.” Jacob smiled in my direction.
Holiday Heat Wave: A Playing Dirty Christmas Novella Page 2
