Fearless Master of the Jungle (A Bunduki Jungle Adventure

by J. T. Edson

  Looking through the peephole in the wall alongside the sliding panel which gave access to her bedroom, Charole was puzzled by what she saw. She had hoped to satisfy herself that it was unoccupied before going in. It was already dark outside, but the lamps were lit and she should have been able to see what was happening. However, although the room seemed to be deserted, the drapes of her four-poster bed had been drawn and it was large enough to offer concealment for more than one intruder. Furthermore, there was the matter to be considered of who had lit the lamps. She would not have expected her household staff to be attending still to such duties.

  ‘Oh well,’ Charole told herself silently. “Standing here won’t solve anything.’

  With that, the woman laid down her belongings and raised the lid of the chest. Inside lay the means by which she hoped to pave the way for her reinstatement. Despite having allied herself to Dryaka, she had taken precautions in case he should try to turn against her after they had achieved their purpose. Without his knowledge, she had contrived to appropriate a small bag of the ‘Thunder Powder’ and one of the remarkable arrows belonging to Dawn of the ‘Earths’. In addition, when it had been discovered that the latest batch of ‘Terrifiers’ to be delivered were filled with soil instead of ‘Thunder Powder’, she had collected the genuine articles which were in her adherents’ possession. There were four of them and, added to the one she was already carrying, as nobody else had any—nor, since the death of Zongaffa the Herbalist, knew the secret of how they were manufactured— they formed a very potent source of power.

  After Charole had transferred the bag of ‘Thunder Powder’ and the ‘Terrifiers’ to the leather pouch, she fixed the ‘cloak of mourning’ so it could be thrown off without an instant’s delay and opened the panel. Carrying the arrow as well as the pouch and ‘fire box’, she stepped across the threshold with the sword ready for use. Once she was through, the entrance closed automatically.

  The first thing to strike Charole as she walked forward was the lack of noise. She could not detect any sounds of activity in the building. Nor, although the windows were open, could she hear any disturbance outside. She would have expected the latter at least, considering that fighting had still been taking place elsewhere in the city when she fled from the arena.

  Then Charole became aware of something which caused her to devote her full attention to her immediate surroundings.

  Once before, not many weeks earlier, Charole’s keen sense of smell had saved her life in that very room. xx Her olfactory organs were now giving a similar warning that she might not be alone. However, on this occasion, the odor which was assailing her nostrils was not the fragrance of female perfume. Rather it was harsh, masculine and unpleasant, like perspiration mingling with the other emanations from a body that was rarely washed.

  There was, Charole knew, only one kind of person in Bon-Gatah who invariably smelled in such a fashion.

  Even as the realization was sending an alarm screeching through her mind, Charole noticed that the drapes of the bed were being violently agitated. Grasping a heavy wooden club, a figure erupted through them. With a snarl that sounded more bestial than human, it sprang towards her with the weapon raised to strike.

  In spite of the way he was armed and the fact that he was clad in a white tunic emblazoned with a colored illustration of a standing quagga, there was something brutishly inhuman about the woman’s assailant. About five foot eight inches in height, the thickset and heavily muscled body was coated with shortish, curly brown hair. The somewhat stooped shoulders, disproportionately long arms and short, bowed legs seemed more suitable to a chimpanzee than a man. Shaggy hair almost met the brows above the deep-set eyes, so narrow was the forehead. The snub nose, nostrils flaring like an animal’s, topped a snarling mouth and a receding, bearded chin.

  The attacker was, as Charole knew, a Brelef. xxi His subhuman race had been enslaved by the Mun-Gatahs to be employed as guards. There was no need for her to try and read the insignia on the brass ‘collar of ownership’ around his short, thick neck to learn where his allegiance lay. His tunic announced that he served the Council of Elders, being one of the contingent which were used to maintain order in the city.

  Guessing why the Brelef had been concealed in the room, Charole knew that announcing her identity would not halt the attack. A trait which made the sub-humans so useful was their complete and unthinking loyalty to whoever owned them. Even as the Protectress of the Quagga God, she had had no control over the Council of Elders’ Brelefs and would have even less authority now she had been deposed. Having been ordered to remain hidden and attack anybody who entered, he would carry out the duty regardless of who the arrival might be.

  Accepting that verbal conciliation would avail her nothing and doubting whether she would have time to reach, much less open, the secret panel, Charole did not try to escape. Instead, she dropped the pouch, ‘fire box’ and arrow. Even as they were falling, she shrugged off the cloak and, to avoid stepping on them, took a long stride to the right. Although her rapid movement carried her clear of the club as it was driven downwards, it left her poorly placed to retaliate swiftly with her sword. Taking her weight on the right leg, as the Brelef’s impetus carried him onwards, she snapped a side kick to the left. The sole of her foot caught him in the ribs with sufficient force to thrust him away from her, which proved fortunate.

  Showing surprising agility for one of his squat and heavy build, the Brelef changed the direction in which his club was moving. He swung it in a horizontal arc which would have caught the woman if her kick had not pushed him far enough for her to be clear of it. Nor, for all the haste in which it had been launched, would the blow have been a light one if it had landed. In fact, such was the vehemence he had used that he could not prevent himself from continuing to turn away from his objective when it missed.

  Charole took advantage of her assailant’s misfortune like a flash. While the majority of Mun-Gatahs tended to rely solely upon the edge of the blade when using a sword, Dryaka had taught her—without ever having heard it—the value of the Ancient Roman saying, ‘Duas unicas in puncta mortalis est’, xxii with regard to the point. Swiveling into a lunge and turning the twenty-four inches long, two inches wide blade so that it was parallel to the floor, she plunged it between his ribs and onwards until it reached his vital organs. A screech burst from him and the club left his hand. He jerked himself involuntarily away from the source of the agony that was being inflicted upon him and the action helped her to snatch the weapon free.

  Liberating the sword was to be a matter of vital importance to Charole!

  Even as the stricken sub-human’s scream was dying out and he crashed to the floor, the connecting door to the dining room was thrown open. Baring her teeth in a hiss of fury, the woman turned her attention to the three men who were entering. In the lead, also armed with clubs, were two more Brelefs of the Council’s bodyguard. They were followed by a white haired Mun-Gatah of medium height whose formerly hard-fleshed, bulky body had grown soft and fat with good living. Holding a sword, he wore a white toga-like garment decorated by a rampant quagga. He was Elder Eokan and had never been friendly with Charole, so she decided that his presence could bode only evil.

  For all her belief, Charole considered the elder Mun-Gatah was the least of her worries at that moment. She realized that she must defend herself against the two Brelefs before she could even start to think of dealing with him. However, she did not relish the prospect of a close quarters fight with the pair of brute-men.

  On the face of it, Charole’s solution to the predicament seemed at the least most ill advised. Before either of the Brelefs could take more than three steps beyond the doorway, she flung her sword across the room. The result would have been completely satisfactory if only one assailant had been involved. Slightly in the lead, the brute-man at the right took the spear point xxiii of the blade in the left breast. Dropping the club, he clutched at the hilt of the weapon which had buried deep into his vital or
gans. He wrenched it out with a spasmodic jerk and flung it aside. Spinning around, he staggered in front of his companion.

  Employing the momentum she had gathered while throwing the sword, Charole turned and darted in the direction from which she had come. She picked up the pouch and ‘fire box’ in passing, leaving the arrow behind. Making for the wall through which she had entered, she had already extracted one of the ‘Terrifiers’ by the time she reached it. Turning to face the two men, she jabbed her elbow on to the disguised catch and the secret panel slid open. Then, dropping to her left knee in the opening, she set down the box and pouch. Raising the former’s lid, she took out the smoldering cord. As she had anticipated, Eokan halted at the door, leaving the assault upon her to his remaining assistant.

  Shoving aside his mortally wounded companion, with no more compunction than if he had been dealing with an inanimate object, the third Brelef lumbered forward. At the sight of the object in Charole’s hand, a change came over him. He had been in the Council Chamber when Dryaka had demonstrated the potency of the ‘Terrifiers’ for the first time. While of limited intelligence, his retentive memory was sufficient for him to recall the shattering roar and the terrible devastation caused by the explosion. Letting out a howl of terror, he discarded his weapon and turned to scuttle from the room. Giving a snarl of rage as the brute-man approached, Eoken swung his sword and laid open the other’s throat.

  ‘You can put that down,’ the Elder stated, as his stricken assistant stumbled onwards to collapse dying in the adjoining room. He remained by the door and continued, ‘Since Dryaka failed to sacrifice Dawn of the “Earths”, their power is gone.’

  ‘Those you tried might have lost their power,’ Charole replied, realizing that the Elders had been experimenting with the useless devices. ‘Shall we see if this one has?’

  ‘There’s no need for that!’ Eokan answered hurriedly, appreciating his peril. If the woman ignited the ‘Terrifier’ and threw it, she could step back into the safety of the tunnel before it exploded. He dropped his sword and went on, ‘I knew you were still alive—’

  ‘And intended to have me killed?’ Charole interrupted, more as a statement than a question, nodding at the body of her first victim without relaxing her vigilance.

  ‘To help you,’ Eokan corrected. ‘I only left him here to make sure nobody else could get in and wait for you. Once it was discovered that you hadn’t been killed, they’ve been searching for you. You need a friend badly, Charole. And that’s what I’m offering to be.’

  In one respect, the Elder was sincere with his offer. Age had brought a greater wisdom and caution than when he had been a warrior of renown. Now he knew that it was safer to be the power behind the throne rather than the person who sat upon it. Even an opportunist, on learning that Charole was not dead, he had seen how he might attain such a position. She was not the kind to accept banishment. She would be determined to regain her lost eminence. That she had survived the explosion which killed Dryaka and had escaped from the arena suggested that she had not entirely forfeited the Quagga God’s favor. However, she would need help to re-establish herself. As her uncle, Elder Temnak, had turned against her when she had become the High Priest’s ally, she could not obtain it from him.

  Before deciding to commit himself, the ever-cautious Eokan had arranged a further test. He had left the Brelef hidden in the main bedroom while he was searching the rest of the villa. The way in which the woman had coped with the situation struck him as convincing proof that her fall from the Quagga God’s grace was not too severe. So, providing that he could win her over, he could attain his ends.

  ‘Has the fighting ended already?’ Charole asked, wanting time to consider the offer.

  ‘Things quietened down last night,’ Eokan replied. ‘They’ve been trying to find you all day, but I’ve spread the rumor that you’ve already fled the city. Your banar-gatah stallion is saddled and provisioned ready for you and it’s safe for you to leave.’

  ‘Why are you doing all this?’ Charole inquired, realizing that she must have slept for almost thirty-six hours. She was impressed at the way the Elder had anticipated her plans.

  ‘You’re going to try and regain your lost status, if I know you,’ Eokan explained. ‘As I’m not averse to having the Protectress as a friend, I’ll do what I can to help you. Have you any more of those hellish things?’

  ‘Enough,’ Charole answered evasively, glancing at the ‘Terrifier’.

  ‘Can you make more?’ the Elder wanted to know.

  ‘Yes,’ Charole lied. ‘But I’ll need help to do it.’

  ‘Go to Zeh-Gatah,’ Eokan instructed. ‘I’ve sent my nephew Abart there to take over as District Administrator and I’ll give you a letter telling him to help you.’

  ‘Very well,’ Charole assented, although she would have preferred to receive aid from one of the larger and wealthier districts.

  ‘There is one thing you must do before you can return to Bon-Gatah,’ Eokan warned.

  ‘What is that?’ Charole challenged, although she could guess at the answer.

  ‘Take revenge on the “Earths”,’ the Elder stated, as the woman had anticipated. ‘Until you have, there’s no hope of you ever becoming the Protectress again. Don t come back while they live, unless you bring them as your prisoners.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Charole gritted, her face set in lines of hate-filled determination. ‘I’ve no intention of returning until they’re dead, or my captives.’

  Despite Eokan having offered her the means to achieve her purpose, the woman did not tell him of her full intentions where the ‘Earths’ were concerned. She wanted to take them alive, not only for sacrifice to the Quagga God, but because she felt sure that they knew how to make the ‘Thunder Powder’ and she was determined to obtain that knowledge.

  Chapter Four – They Can’t Be After Us Yet

  ‘Forty yards at least,’ Bunduki estimated sotto voce, studying the band of quaggas which were drinking at the stream in front of his and his companions hiding place. ‘This is as close as we can get without them seeing us, and we won’t be able to get even this near once they’ve moved out on to the plains to graze.’

  By the time the blond giant had withdrawn his knife from the grizzly bear’s skull, and was on the point of collecting the rest of his armament, he had known there was no cause for alarm over the approaching figures. Although he had been somewhat puzzled by discovering that they were in the vicinity, he had recognized the two riders. In a short while, Joar-Fane and her husband At-Vee the Hunter had arrived. Their pleasure at having found Dawn Drummond-Clayton and Bunduki alive and unharmed was a tribute to the very warm relationship that had developed between the Telonga and Earth couples.

  Following an exchange of delighted greetings, Dawn had suggested that all further conversation should be postponed until they had investigated the effects of the blond giant’s proclamation of victory over the bear. Returning to the opposite side of the bushes, they had discovered that these were less serious than she had expected. The awesome bellow had caused the quaggas to flee, but they had not gone far and were still within visual distance. What was more, being animals with a strongly developed territorial instinct, they were unlikely to leave the vicinity unless continued harassment drove them from it.

  However, as the day had been too far advanced to make any attempt to capture the mare and stallion, the quartet had sought for a safe place in which to spend the night. There had been no sign of pursuit from Bon-Gatah. Nor, considering the state of affairs in the city when they had taken their departure, did Dawn and Bunduki anticipate any at so early a date. In spite of that, they were disinclined to take chances. Anybody else who might come across them was almost certain to prove hostile and they had no desire to be compelled to leave the neighborhood of the quaggas. So they had located a hollow not too far from the stream where a fire could be lit without the glow being visible beyond the rim. Leaving the men to take care of their mounts, the girls had gathered
fuel and lit a blaze so they could cook a meal of meat taken from the dead bear. While they were eating, At-Vee had explained how he and his wife had come in search of the Earth couple.

  Once the rescued population had been returned to the Jey-Mat Telonga village, Joar-Fane had insisted that she and At-Vee must follow Bunduki and help him rescue Dawn. Being equally concerned over their friends’ welfare and conscious of the debt he owed to them, the Hunter had already been contemplating such a venture. It had not been his intention that his wife should accompany him, but she was adamant and he had yielded to her insistence. Leaving the rest of the hunters to organize any protection which might become necessary, they had set off on their mission. Although no member of the Telonga nation would even have considered using gatahs until the arrival of the Earth couple, Joar-Fane and At-Vee had now learned how to ride on the beasts which had come into their possession before the mass abduction. They had decided therefore to make use of two of the animals captured after the defeat of the People-Taker and his party so as to travel more quickly.

  Following the tracks left by Dawn’s abductors and Bunduki, which were becoming indistinct, the Telonga couple had heard the kind of triumphant roar given by a male Australopithecus at the moment of a victory. Although the sound had originated some distance to the east of the route they were following, they had decided to investigate. The ‘Hairy People’ were jungle-dwellers and hardly ever strayed so far onto the open plains. So they had concluded that, even if it was not Bunduki who had given the call, it might have been made by another member of the ‘Earth’ nation who could be of assistance in their quest.