by J. T. Edson
‘Have a care. Lord Dryaka!’ Temnak snarled, lifting his eyes from the apparently harmless object as the High Priest began to move as if meaning to turn away. ‘There are limits to how far even you can go.’
‘There are limits to how far any of us can go, Lord Temnak,’ Dryaka countered, swinging back to face the Council and extracting a smoldering cord from the ‘fire-box’ with his left hand. Then, wanting to have the woman at his side as deeply implicated as himself, he nodded in her direction. ‘So Lady Charole and I will attend to our duties of serving the Quagga God and leave you to carry on with your much more important business.’
Knowing the High Priest, Charole was in no doubt as to his reasons for including her in the challenging comment. She also realized that she could not hope to avoid committing herself one way or the other, the words having been designed to make her sentiments public. What was more, once she had done so, there would be no turning back.
The question that the Protectress had to answer—and quickly—was whether it would be more advantageous for her to support, or oppose, Dryaka.
Having being aware that the issue was certain to be raised, Charole had kept silent since her arrival. Listening to the conversation, she had also studied the reactions of the Elders and Administrators. She realized that one, or perhaps even two, of the men—each influential and ambitious in his own right—could have been responsible for the assassination attempts which had been made upon her since her return from the ill-fated hunting expedition. On the other hand, Administrators Korkar of Mol-Gatah and Woltarn had each tried to form an alliance with her during the period of her estrangement from the High Priest. In all probability, either would still be willing to ally himself to her if she were to offer the necessary inducements.
However, the Protectress knew that neither of the Administrators—nor her Uncle Temnak for that matter—had weapons to compare with the power of the Thunder Powder’, particularly in view of its latest development. Whilst it was still in short supply, more was being manufactured at Dryaka’s country villa. It would make him the most potent person in the Mun-Gatah nation and it would be unwise, in fact, unsafe, to have him as an enemy. That was how he would regard her if she refused to act with him and his wrath would be all the greater because he was counting upon her for support.
Having finished speaking, Dryaka paused for a few seconds and swung his gaze in Charole’s direction. Their eyes met and held briefly. Knowing that the moment for a decision had arrived, she made it and gave a barely perceptible, yet definite, nod of agreement. Satisfied that he could count upon her support, he gave just as rapid an inclination of his head and they began to turn away from the table.
As she made her intentions clear, Charole saw the way in which Woltarn and Korkar were glaring at her. No matter what their earlier feelings might have been, they now regarded her as an enemy. In addition, if the fury on the faces of her uncle and Hulkona was any guide, they were mutually opposed to such an open indication of her support of Dryaka’s challenge to the Council’s authority.
‘Wait!’ Temnak bellowed, thrusting back his chair and rising, without consulting the other members of the Council, he made an angry motion with his right hand. Seeing and knowing what the signal meant, the Mun-Gatah captain of the Brelef bodyguard gave an order. Moving with lumbering speed, a double file of the sub-humans lined up across and blocked the foot of the steps to the main entrance. When they had done so, Temnak continued, ‘You have not been given permission to leave.’
‘Perhaps the Quagga God wishes us to do so,’ Dryaka replied over his shoulder. Applying the glowing tip of the ‘burning cord’ to one of the eyes xviii at the end of the coconut, he waited for a moment then went on, ‘Let us see!’
Saying the words, the High Priest darted forward a few steps and drew back his right arm. Although a good fifty yards separated him from them, the Brelefs lifted their weapons into positions of readiness. Trained for their work, they owed loyalty only to the Council. So they were not influenced by the fact that Charole and Dryaka were persons of high social standing, but were clearly prepared to prevent the couple leaving by force if necessary. Nor had the High Priest expected otherwise. Swinging the coconut around he threw it. As soon as it left his hand, he and the Protectress dropped face down on the floor.
Startled exclamations and a rustle of considerable movement arose from behind Charole and Dryaka. Looking around as she landed, the Protectress opened and thrust her right hand into the pouch. She felt that there might be the need for its contents. The members of the Council were standing up, surprise and annoyance rather than alarm on their faces. Reaching for their weapons, the four Administrators were also coming to their feet. Their actions were being duplicated by the occupants of the gatah-riders’ enclosures.
Being aware of Dryaka’s abilities as a warrior, the captain of the bodyguard watched the missile which had been thrown towards him and was ready to take any evasive action that might be necessary. At first, although he knew that the object was not any kind of weapon with which he had come into contact, he was unable to identify it. With considerable surprise, he saw that it was—so he thought—no more than a coconut. Having no conception of its true purpose, he was amused when it landed and bounced almost to his feet. Bending, he picked it up. After a brief and uncomprehending glance at the tiny plume of smoke which was rising from one of the ‘eyes’, he gave a disinterested shrug and tossed it over his shoulder with an almost contemptuous gesture.
It was the last act of the captain’s life!
Although the captain did not know it, he had just held the deadly result of much experimentation by Zongaffa, based on the idea which Dryaka had given to him. It had been suggested after a comment made to the High Priest by Charole.
Having discovered that the basic idea of a fuse would work, the Herbalist decided that it could be utilized to a better purpose in something smaller and less unwieldy than a log. So he had had the carpenter cut coconuts in half. After removing the kernel and allowing the portions of the shell to dry, he had had a hole drilled in one of the ‘eyes’. A piece of ‘burning cord’, such as was carried in a ‘fire box’, was passed through the hole and knotted on the inside to prevent it falling out. Then he had filled them with the ‘Thunder Powder’ and had them stuck together with a very powerful glue.
Achieving his purpose, which he had named a ‘Terrifier’, had taken the Herbalist many hours of work. What was more, the supply of the devices was limited. However, the summons to appear before the Council had struck Dryaka as offering an opportunity to display the potency of his new weapon.
Passing through the hole in the coconut’s ‘eye’, the tiny flicker of flame reached and touched off the ‘Thunder Powder’. There was a shattering crash and the Mun-Gatah was flung forward in a gory ruin of lacerated flesh. The four nearest Brelefs shared his fate, except that they were blown backwards. Three more were struck by flying fragments of the ‘Terrifier’s’ shell. Brave as they were under normal conditions, the rest of the bodyguard at the foot of the steps discarded their weapons and fled with howls of terror.
Nor were the Brelefs alone in displaying fear!
In fact, if Charole and Dryaka had had any doubts about the effectiveness of the murderous devices, they would have been removed by the results which followed the detonation of the ‘Terrifier’.
Yells of alarm and consternation rose from the gatah-riders’ enclosures. Being closest to the explosion, the warriors of the lowest grade felt the blast and flung themselves over the partitions. Others, further away, stared in horror and seemed to be on the verge of panic. Perturbation and fright showed on the faces of the Elders and the Administrators, none of whom had the slightest notion of how the mysterious and terrifying happening had been brought about. Not that they were given an opportunity to think about, much less discuss, the phenomenon
While the sound of the explosion was still echoing in the Council Chamber, the great main entrance was thrown open and armed men entered
. There were only twenty of them, all Dryaka’s and Charole’s adherents, so they were outnumbered. However, all had ‘fire-boxes’ and leather bags similar to that worn by the High Priest. What was more, each of them carried a coconut and a ‘fire cord’. Fanning out, they spread down the steps and came to a halt with the ‘fire cords’ held ready to be applied to the ends of the nuts.
Normally, such an invasion would have been met and dealt with by the Brelefs of the bodyguard. Badly frightened by what they had seen, even those of the sub-humans who had not been at the foot of the steps, they made no attempt to expel the intruders. Nor, on seeing what the High Priest’s and the Protectress’s adherents held, did the Mun-Gatah spectators take any action against them.
Coming to his feet, Dryaka glanced around. His gaze went briefly to the ceiling, but he found nothing there to warn him that the explosion had damaged it. Although the blast from the ‘Terrifier’ had reached the dome, much of its force had been dispelled before arriving. So due to the thickness of the glass and the strength of the steel supports, the residue was channeled out of the vent instead of shattering and bringing down the panes.
Turning his gaze to the gatah-riders’ enclosures, the High Priest decided that the occupants would not pose any immediate threat. Even the men who were at the far end of the Council Chamber had lost their former hostility. Satisfied on that score, he gave his attention to their superiors. Whilst Woltara held his throwing-axe, it was dangling limply at his side. The other three Administrators were equally motionless and not one of them had completed drawing his sword.
‘Don’t stand on our accounts, my lords,’ Dryaka requested, taking the second ‘Terrifier’ from the bag, an action which Charole who had risen at his side, duplicated. ‘And you can sheath your weapons, there is no danger.’
While speaking, the High Priest ignored the Council of Elders. They were staring angrily, but he regarded them as being a minor factor in the affair at that moment. They might be the ruling body of the Mun-Gatah nation, but the demoralization of the Brelef bodyguard had left them without the means to enforce their will. The quartet of Administrators were far more dangerous. Each was a tough and capable fighting man, with a strong force of warriors available. Although the gatah-riders were frightened by the—to them—inexplicable explosion, they might rally if called upon by their leaders. So Dryaka was determined to prevent this from happening. Only six of his adherents held genuine Terrifiers’, as no more had been prepared. What was more, Dryaka realized that the devices would be a hazard to his own safety if used in the confines of the Council Chamber. So he intended to try to avert the need to set them off.
Several seconds ticked away without there being any response to the High Priest’s command. No matter how it had been worded, all who heard it knew it had been just that. Holding the ‘Terrifier’ in his right hand, he moved the ‘fire cord’ slowly towards it and his eyes met those of Woltarn.
Of the four, Dryaka judged the Administrator of Hera-Gatah to be the most likely to resist. Noted for his bravery, he alone was holding a weapon ready for instant use. If he could be compelled to yield, the others would follow his example. So the High Priest was determined to bend Woltarn to his will.
Silence fell over the Council Chamber. The acoustics of the vast auditorium were so well balanced that a speaker at the table could be heard in the farthest corners without the need for him to raise his voice. So Dryaka’s words had carried to everyone present. All waited, almost holding their breath in anticipation, to find out how the Administrators and Woltarn in particular responded.
Cold fury glowed in the bearded man’s eyes as they met Dryaka’s challenging gaze. For all his undoubted courage, Woltarn was shaken by what he had seen. It was something beyond his experience, like the stories of magical happenings that were told yet which he had never encountered.
Swifter than his fellow Administrators in arming himself, Woltarn had completed the drawing of his weapon just after the High Priest had thrown the strange object at the Brelefs blocking the way to the steps. Curiosity had caused Woltarn to refrain from launching an attack on Dryaka, then the explosion had frozen him into immobility. Before he could recover his wits, the High Priest’s adherents had arrived. What was more, Dryaka had taken out another of the mysterious and terrible devices. From all appearances, he was ready to use it.
Like any capable leader, Woltarn was able to judge when it would be foolish to resist and so must yield. Lowering his gaze, he returned the axe to its loop on his belt and sat down. Seeing him give in, the other Administrators thrust away their swords and took their seats.
Watching the quartet, Dryaka showed none of the relief which was flooding through him. He had realized, although they had not, that it would have been impossible for him to use the Terrifier’ at such close quarters without endangering his own life. However, the affair was not yet over and another matter demanded his attention.
‘It seems that the Quagga God is in favor of Lady Charole and I leaving, my lords,’ the High Priest stated, running a threatening gaze around the Elders and forcing each in turn to look down and avoid his eyes. “I trust that we have your permission to do so?’
Hulkona’s face was dark with rage as he glanced at the other Elders, finding that they shared his appreciation of the situation. Every one of them knew that to yield would imperil their authority. Yet they also could not see any way in which they might resist. Not only was the High Priest holding another of the deadly devices, his supporters were armed in the same fashion. Even if the Brelefs of the bodyguard were not frightened out of their wits, they would be unable to cope with such a murderously effective force. Nor would the Administrators and their adherents be of assistance.
‘You may go!’ Hulkona answered, having received grudging nods of confirmation from the rest of the Council, spitting out the words as if they were burning his mouth.
‘My thanks,’ Dryaka said, making no attempt to return the ‘Terrifier’ to the bag. “And I feel sure that the Quagga God is in favor of the increase in the number of slaves who are being collected—Don’t you?’
‘There must be a sacrifice to Him!’ Woltarn snarled, ‘And not just a Telonga slave.’
Listening to the low rumble of agreement which rose from all around, Dryaka knew that the Administrator was trying to lay a trap for him. All sacrifices who were brought in were the property of their captors. Neither he nor Charole could dedicate a person delivered by somebody else on their own behalf.-Nor had they any prisoners of their own whom they could offer—or at least, so Woltarn assumed.
There will be,’ the High Priest promised. ‘In seven days from now, the Lady Charole and I will have a sacrifice for the Quagga God and it will be of such importance that He will approve of all we have done—or will do in the future. Come, my lady, we will go and attend to our business and leave the lords here to their own.’
‘One moment, Lord Dryaka!’ Woltarn snapped, as the couple began to turn. ‘Will you tell us who, or what, your sacrifice will be?’
‘For something as important as this, only one of the “Apes” will suffice,’ Temnak went on and, judging by the muttered comments of the audience, the story of Dawn’s and Bunduki’s escapes were public knowledge.
‘Very well,’ Dryaka answered, in an offhand manner as if the production of a member of that mysterious and previously unknown race was so simple that it hardly warranted mention. ‘If you want us to sacrifice an “Ape”, that is what we will do.’
‘Will you give the Oath to the Quagga God that this will happen?’ Woltarn demanded.
‘I will,’ the High Priest agreed and there was an expectant hush for this was the most sacred Oath of the Mun-Gatah Nation.
Raising his right hand after transferring the ‘Terrifier’ to the left, he intoned solemnly ‘Great Supplier hear my words. If I do not give an “Ape” as sacrifice to the Quagga God may his curse strike me dead.’
Although Dryaka had little faith in his nation’s religion except as a
means of controlling the population and did not fear the potency of the Oath, he was aware that he was now fully committed to sacrificing Dawn ‘of the Apes’. If he failed to do so his days as High Priest were over and in all probability his life would be in forfeit.
Chapter Four – Are You Too Frightened to Sleep?
Apart from the distant roaring of lions, an occasional hooting as a Verreaux’s eagle owl winged its otherwise silent way through the darkness in search of its prey, or the restless movements of the hobbled gatahs, the night was silent. Only one of the half a dozen Mun-Gatah warriors was awake. Even he was far from alert, despite being on guard duty, as he sat close to the large fire which augmented the pallid light of the half moon and stars. Wrapped in their cloaks and using their saddles for pillows, the rest of the party were sprawled on the ground. They had removed their metal helmets, but—accepting the discomfort in the interests of self protection if there should be an attack upon them—still wore their rhinoceros hide breastplates. As a further precaution, each man had within easy reach his nine foot long lance and for close-quarters’ his sword, or defense a throwing axe.
Studying the camp from where she was lying, Dawn Drummond-Clayton came to her feet. She moved slowly, striving for complete silence so that she would not attract the look-out’s attention. Having satisfied herself that she had not, she stepped forward with the same great care to avoid making any unnecessary noise. From what she could see of the camp, she was being offered the best opportunity to try and escape that had so far presented itself and she had no intention of spoiling it by lack of forethought. The odds were sufficiently against her achieving her purpose without adding to them needlessly.
In spite of having been born into and growing up with all the benefits of a loving and very wealthy family on Earth, Dawn seemed just as much a part of Zillikian’s primitive environment as any of the warriors. When the Elders of the Jey-Met Telonga village had drugged her, she assumed to prevent her from intervening when they ‘put away’ Bunduki and the hunters, they had been thoughtful enough to have had her clothing changed. Under the circumstances, she was grateful that they had done so. Prior to being rendered unconscious, she had been wearing the extremely skimpy attire of a Telonga girl, in which she had performed the ‘Dance of the Maidens’ to notify Bunduki and their friends that she was willing to become his wife.