by J. T. Edson
In fact, despite understanding the blond giant’s motives, to the watching Dawn it appeared that he was allowing the bear to pass beyond the limits of safety. For all her grave concern, she knew better than to say or do anything which might distract him. Instead, she concentrated her attention upon sighting her weapon at where she believed its arrow would have the most useful effect. Because of the bear’s motions while moving at speed, she discarded the idea of a body shot. Only if she managed to strike an extremely limited vital area would her efforts supplement those of Bunduki, and achieving this would be far from easy. The placement of the grizzly’s feet and its loose-fitting hide’s seemingly rolling movements combined to create ever-changing contours which rendered accurate sighting extremely difficult. Throughout its stride, the legs ‘scissored’ rapidly and added to the confusion. One moment the back legs would be close to the nose and the front feet under the rump, bunching the vital organs. Next the body appeared to have become extended out of all proportion, with the effect that the essential areas had changed positions in relation to the now extended frame. So she took aim accordingly.
Employing all of his skill in an attempt to maintain the correct alignment and allow for the speed at which the grizzly was approaching, Bunduki uncoiled his fingers from the bow’s string. As the arrow was carried forward and he felt the slap of the string against his leather arm-guard, his instincts warned him that he had miscalculated. Not much, or through any fault of his own, but sufficient to place him in the gravest jeopardy.
Flying to meet the great beast, the blond giant’s missile failed to reach its intended point of impact. He had hoped to strike the center of the forehead just above the eyes. Instead, it passed over the top of the skull to bury almost to its fletching into the hump of the shoulders. A roar of pain, mingled with rage, burst from the grizzly’s slavering jaws; but it never faltered in its stride.
Even as Bunduki was reaching for another arrow and preparing to take what could easily prove to be futile evasive action, he heard a twang which informed him that Dawn had loosed her shaft.
Like her mate—as she now regarded the blond giant, although they had not yet gone through a formal marriage ceremony—the girl missed the mark at which she had been aiming. The error was not great, but would be enough to spoil the desired result. She too had hoped for a brain shot, seeking it at a point just below the bear’s ear. Misled by the animal’s speed, she saw her arrow was burying into the neck a good three inches behind where she had intended it to strike.
Finding itself being assailed from the right as well as ahead, the bear looked around. Then, to Bunduki’s consternation, it began to swerve in Dawn’s direction. Clearly, having discovered how painfully its challengers could strike, it had decided to tackle the smaller and, possibly, less dangerous of them.
By changing direction, the grizzly was threatening the life of the woman Bunduki loved.
In an instant, all semblance of civilization and thoughts of sympathy for the bear left the blond giant. He became a primeval savage whose mate was being endangered. For all that, the way in which he responded was far from as reckless and ill advised as it might appear on the surface. Nor, in spite of his great anxiety, did he act without giving rapid thought to what he was doing.
Dropping the bow without liberating an arrow, but ensuring that it fell so that the quiver was uppermost, Bunduki sprang towards the great predatory beast. As he advanced, his right hand reached swiftly for the Randall Model 12 ‘Smithsonian’ bowie knife. Flipping open the press-stud of the sheath’s retainer strap in passing, his thumb and fingers enfolded the concave ivory handle.
Further evidence that the blond giant was behaving rationally and not out of a blindly impulsive rage was given by the manner in which he was arming himself. An exceptionally competent knife-fighter, he would have grasped the handle so that the blade extended below the thumb and forefinger if he had been up against a human adversary. Such a grip offered greater facility to cut, thrust and chop, but would not serve his purpose at that moment. Instead, he plucked the weapon from its sheath with the clip point xvii protruding below the heel of his clenched fist.
Just as startled as Bunduki had been at the sight of the infuriated grizzly turning upon her, Dawn duplicated his estimation of her dire straits. While her right hand was starting to pluck free a second arrow, she realized that the attacking beast would reach her before she could make use of it. What was more, despite the speed at which it was approaching, it still retained sufficient maneuverability to be able to counter any evasive attempt she made.
Striding out with all the speed he could muster, Bunduki converged with the grizzly. Thrusting ahead his left hand, he sank his fingers deep into and grasped the long hair on the back of the predator’s neck. Giving it no chance to react to such treatment, he vaulted astride it as if making a flying mount on to a passing horse.
To Dawn, who was engrossed in trying to gauge the best moment for what would in all probability prove a pointless leap aside, it seemed as if the blond giant had suddenly materialized upon the grizzly’s back out of thin air. Regardless of her surprise, she did not allow it to blind her to the fact that she was still far from being out of danger. She could guess what Bunduki was hoping to do; but she was equally aware that, even if he succeeded, it would not be swiftly enough to prevent the enraged animal from reaching her,
Massive though the bear might be, Bunduki’s arrival on its back caused it to stagger a little. Retaining the grip with his left hand, he clamped his legs around the hairy ribs for added security. Seeing how close they were to the girl, he dare not waste a second. So he raised and brought around the huge knife in a semi-circular motion that was powered by all the Herculean muscled force of his two hundred and twenty pounds’ weight.
Made from the finest quality high carbon Swedish tool steel, the knife’s blade had great strength. It was carefully tempered and designed so that it would hold an edge as sharp as a barber’s razor. With the target its owner had selected, it needed all those sterling qualities. Coming around, the needle sharp tip of the clip point pierced the side of the grizzly’s skull where Dawn had hoped to send in her arrow. Driven onwards, it punctured the brain for an instantaneous kill. Even so, the girl would still have been caught by its collapsing body if she had stood still.
Seeing what had happened when Bunduki jumped aboard the bear’s back, Dawn had made the most of the opportunity with which she was presented. As it reeled slightly under the impact, she displayed her superb speed and agility by flinging herself in the opposite direction. Swiftly as she moved, it was only the marginal deviation in the animal’s course which averted a collision. In fact, the blond giant’s knee struck her a glancing blow in passing. Knocked off balance, she lost her hold of the bow and went sprawling to the ground.
Leaving his knife embedded in the bear’s skull, Bunduki dived clear as it began to collapse beneath him. He landed rolling, as he had been taught to do when taking a fall. When his momentum ceased, he leapt to his feet and swung around to look at the huge beast he had killed. What he did next was a pure reflex action, stirred into being by some subconscious—or inborn—urging out of man’s primeval past. Without any need for thought, he gave notice of his success in defeating such a savage and dangerous creature. Standing with his feet spread apart and fists clenched, he tossed back his head and thundered out an excellent reproduction of the Australopithecus male’s victory roar.
Dawn had also regained her feet. Turning her head as she heard the triumphant sound which was bursting from the blond giant, she too could not hold back her pent up emotions. Running towards him, she threw herself into his arms. Oblivious of everything except each other for the moment, including the way in which the hobbled banar-gatahs were displaying alarm over the menacing roar Bunduki had uttered, they kissed long and passionately.
‘Whew!’ Bunduki ejaculated, after their emotional turmoil had been sated by the embrace. Separating, they began to take notice once more of their surroundings. ‘I’d h
ate to go through that again.’
‘Well, if you should have to,’ Dawn replied, although she agreed with the sentiment, as she glanced pointedly at their snorting and rearing mounts, ‘I hope that you remember how hearing a “Hairy Man” bellowing frightens gatahs. Those two are going to be too nervous to be any use to us for hunting the quaggas today. Not that it matters, though. Howling like you did has probably frightened them away.’
‘It’s too late for us to do anything about them today, anyway,’ Bunduki called after the girl as she hurried towards their mounts. ‘And another thing, the way you’re nagging me now, I think I’ll tell Tav-Han I want the tiger’s skin back.’
‘You just try it, my lad,’ Dawn warned over her shoulder, the item in question having been given to Joar-Fane’s father in lieu of her own parents as the traditional bride price from a Telonga hunter. ‘I’m not letting you wriggle off the hook that easy.’
‘I could always run away,’ Bunduki pointed out, walking over to the bear with the intention of retrieving his knife. ‘I could always beat you in a foot ra—’
The words trailed away as the blond giant saw two mounted figures coming over a ridge some distance to the southeast.
Apart from the party of Amazons under Beryl Snowhill’s command, no riders were likely to behave in a friendly manner!
In spite of the distance being too great for any positive identification, as one of the newcomers was clearly a man, Bunduki felt certain that they could not belong to the Earth woman’s all female party!
Chapter Three – Don’t Come Back While They Live
Although Charole’s support for Dryaka in the abortive attempt to sacrifice Dawn of the ‘Earths’ had caused her to forfeit the title, ‘Protectress of the Quagga God’, she knew that she was fortunate not to be dead. What was more, staying alive in her present circumstances was anything but a sinecure. However, being a woman of spirit and resolution, she was determined not only to stay alive but also to regain her position of power in the Mun-Gatah nation. She realized that achieving her aims would be far from easy, which was why she was taking the chance of returning to her villa before attempting to escape from Bon-Gatah. Concealed at her private quarters were some items which she felt sure would help her attain her ambition.
When Charole and the High Priest had been knocked over the parapet of the temple’s balcony at the unexpected conclusion of the sacrificial ceremony, they had fallen with him in the upper position. So his body had shielded her from the blast of the ‘Terrifier’ which had been thrown by one of the invaders and had exploded above them. By a piece of equally good fortune, another of the devices which she had been about to ignite had been knocked from her hand before she could do so. If it had not been, it would have gone off beneath her and she would have had no protection from its fury.
Charole had also benefited from having been clad in the attire prescribed for the Protectress when a sacrifice to the Quagga God was being made. Her magnificently endowed body was protected by a sturdy metal helmet with a crest made from the mane of a quagga, a thick oak brown breastplate of specially hardened leather, a brief kilt, greaves and sandals of the same material. So, despite having been stunned by the landing in the arena, she had not suffered any serious or incapacitating injuries.
With the High Priest’s broken and obviously lifeless body draped over her as she had lain unconscious, the few people who had come close had assumed that Charole too must be dead. Nor, occupied as they were by the inter-factional fighting that had erupted following the failure to witness the promised sacrifice, did any of them find an opportunity to carry out an examination and correct the assumption.
On regaining consciousness, Charole had appreciated her very grave peril. She had made enemies even before becoming Dryaka’s ally and they would want to see her pay the price of failure. After what had happened, she had not known whom she could still trust. Even her formerly loyal adherents could not be counted upon to remain staunch. So she had decided that, until she could form a better assessment of the situation, she must be wary of everybody. Also, although confident no bones had been broken, she had felt very weak and concluded it would be advisable to stay out of sight until her strength returned.
By the time she had reached her conclusions, the fighting was over in the arena and it was deserted. For all that, she had been aware that she might need to defend herself at any moment. Her ivory handled sword, shaped like the gladius of Ancient Rome, was still in its sheath at the left side of her gold disc belt. Yet, effectively as she could use it, there had been another and much more potent weapon readily available. The ‘Terrifier’ she had dropped still lay where it had fallen. None of the people who had entered the arena had touched it. They wanted nothing to do with such a—to them—inexplicable and dangerous device.
Having no such inhibitions, Charole had wriggled from beneath Dryaka’s corpse and picked up the Terrifier. Despite having lost the smoldering piece of cord from the perforated metal ‘fire box’ which was hanging from her left shoulder (thus being unable to ignite the device) she had been confident that she could use it to frighten away anybody who tried to molest her; but the need to do so had not arisen. Entering the room in which prisoners awaiting sacrifice were incarcerated, she had made her exit via one of the secret passages known to those Mun-Gatahs who held a sufficiently high office. From there, she had traversed some of the vast labyrinth of tunnels and caverns which spread beneath and even beyond the perimeter walls of the city.
Created by the ‘Suppliers’ as an aid to the Mun-Gatahs’ inborn proclivity for intrigue, the subterranean area was ventilated and illuminated by a self-operating and maintaining power source. Attaining the status which gave access to the labyrinth was not hereditary, but came about by personal endeavor. So the ‘Suppliers’ were compelled to implant each who reached a specific rank with the requisite knowledge to open the secret doors and traverse the tunnels. In addition, the current six members of the ruling Council of Elders, the High Priest and the Protectress of the Quagga God each was allocated a private hiding place equipped for use in an emergency.
Charole did not relax her vigilance until she had entered and bolted the door of her hiding place. While she intended to rest, she realized that to remain in the small room for more than a short time would avail her nothing. Until she could acquire reliable and powerful support, Bon-Gatah would be an unhealthy location for her. So she would have to escape from the city and go in search of the necessary assistance.
Having removed her ceremonial clothing, which was too heavy to be comfortable, Charole settled down to rest. She took a drink of the clear, fresh water which flowed from a crack in one wall and out of a hole in the floor. There was food available, in the form of sun-dried meat known as fulsa. xviii Having eaten, she lay on the comfortable couch and went to sleep.
On awakening, Charole had no idea of how long she had slept. However, she felt refreshed. Such was her excellent physical condition that she had completely recovered from the effects of the fall and she devoted her thoughts to the future. In her estimation, the first task was to leave Bon-Gatah until she could find out how badly public sentiment was against her and who would assume the posts of High Priest and Protectress. Secondly, she had to win over sufficient support to make it possible for her to return.
Always a realist, Charole had accepted that the time might one day come when she would have to flee for her life and she had made preparations against that day. With the exception of a mount, which was one of the reasons she had taken the risk of returning to her villa, she had everything she needed in the hiding place. She had no intention of trying to depart clad in her ceremonial attire. While it might offer protection if she should be recognized and attacked, it would also ruin her chances of slipping away unnoticed. No other woman dressed in such a fashion, so the garments would give her away even after night had fallen.
Leaving the helmet, breastplate and kilt where they had fallen when she undressed, Charole retained only the s
andals. These had plain brown leather cross-straps extending to just below the knee and did not indicate that she belonged to any particular faction. She donned the silver lamé mesh halter and short skirt which formed the everyday costume of a banar-gatah riding female warrior. xix The uniform had sufficient status to allow her to adopt a highhanded attitude if her identity was challenged.
Once dressed, using a pair of scissors and a mirror, Charole cropped at her black hair until it was short and boyish. As a disguise, it had its limitations. With the magnificent contours of her five foot nine inches’ body—bust thirty-nine inches; waist, twenty-one; hips, thirty-seven—and her sensually beautiful, if arrogant, features, she could not hope to pass as other than a woman at close quarters. However, seen even at a distance, her shoulder long tresses might give her away. She was retaining the gold disc belt and, as it was her favorite weapon, the ivory handled sword which had helped to denote her rank. Until she was beyond the city’s walls, it would be concealed beneath the long, hooded black ‘cloak of mourning’ she would be wearing.
Having completed the alterations to her appearance, Charole used the flint and steel from her ‘fire box’ to light another piece of the slow burning cord and coiled it inside. Realizing that to use the ‘Terrifier’ within the confines of the labyrinth would be as dangerous to her as to any assailant, she placed it in the leather pouch in which it was carried during the abortive sacrifice. However, she did not hang the pouch and ‘fire box’ across her shoulders. The cloak would have concealed them and was designed so that it could be discarded rapidly if necessary, but she did not want them to hamper her movements if there should be trouble. Instead, she carried them by their straps in her left hand and the sword was grasped in the right.
Leaving the hiding place, Charole made her way to the flight of stone steps which led to the secret entrance of her living quarters. The items she had come to recover were in a chest on the landing, but it would not be wise just to take them and then return through the labyrinth until safely outside the city. To make the only kind of escape which would offer an adequate chance of salvation, she would need to be mounted. Provided that it had not been stolen, there was an animal ideally suited to her needs in the villa’s stables.