Queen of the Panther World

by Berkeley Lingston

  He walked with his shoulders square and his back straight and when he came into their midst he didn’t walk around them but moved as though they had better give him room, else he’d walk right over them. They moved out of his way all right.

  He marched up the long flight of stairs, saw us, and came forward to stand before Luria.

  “Greatness,” he said, “the deed to which I was sentenced has been done . . .”

  “And well-done,” Luria said graciously. “Truly, you are a man, one worthy of carrying arms. Jimno, tell me. Would you care to be the first of the legions of men I am going to recruit?”

  “I would be honored.”

  “Good. In the future you and Haavah will share equally the burdens and joys of your lives. If she lays a hand to you, you have my express authority to strike back . . .”

  I realized I was hearing history being made. These men, though not eunuchs, performed the same functions.

  “. . . So be it with you Jimno, and all men. Hear me, my lieutenants. From this day henceforth, all men share and share alike, the burdens and joys of women. On our return spread the news to the entire community. Go. You, Hank and Berk, stay with me. I have things to tell . . .”

  She waited until the others had left, then dismounted from Mokar and walked to the lip of the valley and sat on a grassy hummock. Hank and I followed and sat beside her.

  “. . . I was awake all night,” she said. “Sleep would not come to me. My mind kept turning over and over again on the dilemna we are in. It is not an easy thing to admit defeat before it comes. Yet defeat is undeniable.”

  “Why?” Hank asked.

  She tossed her head and her hair shook free in gleaming waves about her face.

  “We are too few. Loko has not alone the majority of the tribes but the very ones who have kept up a semblance of the war-like proclivities of their predecessors. We are their superiors in spirit, but in war, spirit alone is not enough.”

  “So?” Hank was doing one of those single-syllable deals with her. I knew it was irritating her because it was irritating me. Of course I knew the reason for it. She didn’t.

  “I have tried to find a way out but the only one I can think of is to go to Loko and acknowledge his claim and throw myself on his mercy.”

  “If that’s the way you feel . . .” Hank said.

  I hid a grin in my palm. She was getting a little flushed in her cheeks. Spots of color burned below her eyes and her eyes were beginning to flash in anger. Her right hand, lying on the grass close to me clenched in a small and capable fist.

  “Okay then,” Hank said. “Since that is the way you feel send us back.”

  Her hand came down in a slap at the earth. Her lips set firm and hard against each other.

  “Very well,” she said. “I won’t hold you here against your wishes. As soon as we get back . . .”

  HE SAW the smudge of smoke lying low on the horizon when we were barely past the first hill. Luria’s eyes widened at the odd sight, than narrowed in sudden understanding. I guess I was the last to catch on and so was the last to urge my beast to greater speed. I don’t think we were very far from Gayno when we saw a horde of humans and animals coming toward us. In the lead, mounted on a magnificent panther, was Jimno.

  We drew rein and waited for the arrival of the first of the mob. Jimno leaped from the back of his mount, dashed over to us and stood silent, his great chest heaving in panting breath. We saw then that he had suffered a number of wounds, one of them a wide slash from a sharp instrument, that had cut through the surface flesh all the way across the chest. Blood dripped from the wound, but Jimno seemed completely unaware of it.

  “. . . Loko,” he gasped after a second. He turned as the first of the hundreds of men, women and children streamed up, then brought his attention back to us. “Loko’s minions attacked. While we were in the valley of the paavans. It was a surprise. And before a defense could be organized, they had set fire to the whole of the city. They were too many and the surprise was too great.

  Many perished. These are all who were left. I organized the retreat . . .

  They were a pitiful few, I saw, that had made good their escape. My eyes gladdened when I saw that the girl, Lovah, was among them. I’ve got to hand it to Luria. No fumbling, no fear, no hesitation.

  “Then they will surely follow; perhaps they are not too far off. To the caves. Jimno, you, Lovah and Berk, take twenty warriors and cover the rear. I’ll take the others . . .”

  “So get moving, stupe,” Hank yelled.

  I held both hands out emptily to show why I wasn’t going anywhere. Immediately someone thrust a sword into one hand and a spear into the other, and to make matters completely at a loss for me Hank kicked my mount in the rump and Lovah, Jimno, and I were off to glory.

  Into the valley of death rode the twenty-three, I thought, as we headed back. Lovah reined her panther to my side.

  “Remember one thing,” she said as we rode, “your paavan is faster in every way than the okas they ride. It is our real advantage over them. You are riding, Lipso, a well-trained animal. I know because I trained him. Give him the reins if we meet danger. And stay close to, my man, because this will not be a contest of fists.”

  Lipso was well-trained because when I leaned over and put my arms about Lovah’s waist and drew her close, he didn’t move an inch or slack his pace. I kissed her hard, perhaps not as satisfyingly as I wanted, but for the condition, well enough. I guessed it was the first time she’d ever been kissed because she brought one hand to her mouth in wonder. The most beautiful smile I’d ever seen came to life on those wonderful lips and before I knew what she was intending, she had reached in my direction, hauled me to her and gave me a kiss in return. Years went by before I came out of the halo-like daze I was in. From then on love was the last thing on my mind.

  The dirty dogs had set the whole place on fire. Not only that but there were some who were still alive in the inferno. We could hear the screams of the poor devils. Jimno took the lead as though he was born to it.

  HIS hand shot up and we rode up until we were a narrow circle about him. He gestured with his hand toward a stretch of trail which would lead us between the usual lush jungle growth with which I was now familiar.

  “It seems,” Jimno said in a growling voice, “that they are too intent on loot, pillage and worse, to pursue. Or perhaps they think we will wait their coming on bended knees. But soon they will think of those who escaped. Then will they ride after. There is no trail other than through there . . .”

  Again I looked to the dense brush and narrow trail and immediately a picture formed in mind of what could happen were we to lay a trap.

  “. . . We are few but enough for what we can do. To face them squarely would be suicidal. Rather let us pair off and infilter through the brush but not too far off the trail. Our paavans move like shadows between the narrowest part of the forest. Their clumsier and slower beasts cannot follow. Therefore let us make haste and make rendezvous with them as they enter and harry them until they reach the open spaces. Then, when we have done with them here, let us ride ahead and make sure we meet them again later, where the forest meets the hills——”

  The women wore broad smiles long before he had finished. They needed nothing further in the way of command or instruction. Like shadows, they melted into the greyness which bordered the lush growth. In a few seconds it seemed as though there had never been human or beast on the trail. Jimno, one of the women warriors, Lovah and myself, were the last to lose ourselves.

  “Give Lipso his head,” Lovah said as she moved forward. “He has been trained to follow . . .”

  We wound about, our beasts moving in complete silence, over fallen logs, between the boles of jungle-giants which pressed so closely together that it seemed impossible anything other than a snake could maneuver his way through. Yet the lithe black bodies managed with an ease which astounded me. Deeper and further into the gloomy green we went. As though aware of the impending clash, the
forest life was stilled, not even the birds trilling their songs.

  Lipso and Lovah’s mount moved tail to snout, so close were they. I watched the lithe form of the woman ahead. Suddenly her hand went to the scabbard and the long sword came into the open. I followed suit. I could see nothing. There was nothing to be seen. The jungle looked as impenetrable as ever. The sun never existed as far as I was concerned. We moved in an odorous and silent world. Then Lipso stopped and I became aware that Lovah was sitting erect and expectant.

  From somewhere ahead there came a grunting and squealing. The sound of men’s voices lifted in rough talk also came to our ears, but so dimly I couldn’t make out the words. My throat tightened so that my breath came out in a wheeze when I realized that the moment was at hand for our ambush. There was but a single question in my mind. How were we going to go about it?

  Lovar answered that question.

  Her fingers pulled lightly on the reins and before my startled eyes her mount leaped nimbly up the huge bole of a nearby tree. Immediately, Lipso followed. I clung tightly with both hands about the panther’s neck. Worse was to follow. The animals moved gingerly out on a limb, mine a little below and to the left of Lovah’s. We perched thus for the space of perhaps thirty seconds. I saw that we were almost directly above the narrow, twisting trail. The grunting sounds of the animals and the gutteral sounds of their riders came more distinctly to my ears.

  They were telling each other, with a horrible relish, of what they had done, while the houses burned . . .

  A PECULIAR series of tuneless whistles broke from the midst of the forest about us and simultaneously with those sounds the how of the ambush was made clear to me. I saw Lovah’s thighs contract and grip close to the lean sides of the animal she was on. And the next second the panther was a black streak of silent fury falling through space. Nor was he alone. Only reflex came to my help, otherwise I would have ended up on my face in the grass-grown jungleland. But my thighs did tighten and one arm managed to hold the reins, as Lipso left his feet in a leap after the first panther.

  We leaped into the midst of some eight or nine mounted men. The lizard-elks animals they were on were squealling wildly as Lipso and the other beast leaped among them, slashing with claw and tearing with fang. The instant we reached the ground Lovah shouted for me to dismount. Now we were on our own. As I slashed wildly about with the razor-sharp sword, I heard the sounds of battle all about me. But so dense was the underbrush and so furious the action, so disconnected, I got only flashes. But one was unforgettable. Jimno had engaged the largest of the enemy, a man perhaps a foot taller than himself.

  The single glimpse I caught was of Jimno being pressed back into the jungle by the power of the other’s sword play. Then they were lost to my sight. Nor was I interested any further. Death and I had come to grips. The sword in my hand was like a broom handle for all I knew of its use. And these men we had ambushed had been trained since childhood to its murderous use.

  There was only one factor which saved me from instant extinction. We were fighting in brush. There simply wasn’t room for fancy footwork and dexterous strokes. Tt was hack and chop and duck, and when it came to that I didn’t have to take a back seat to anyone. A lifetime spent in ducking girls I’d promised things to came in use.

  He got in the first chops, but h’e didn’t lick his lips from them. I ducked and took a couple of whacks myself. They were as close to the mark as Stalin and Taft. All the time my brain was worrying about Lovah. After all I was fighting even. She was taking on the rest. He came at me again, and this time I waited until he was a couple of feet from me, about the length of a sword stroke. The stroke I used was my favorite service stroke in tennis. I was a shade slow. But it was enough. He got his blade up in a parry. Holy cats, what happened to him should happen to the rest. Something strange happened to Hank and myself in our journey from the Earth to this place. Our strength multiplied tenfold. My blade not only knocked his to one side but the end four inches sliced right through his collar bone and down into his chest. He let out a single screech and fell backward, blood fountaining out from the huge wound.

  I wasted no time in sympathy. There were the ringing sounds of blade striking blade not far from me. I leaped over a fallen log and into the place where Lovah was battling. She had backed up so that she had her shoulders to a huge tree. Facing her were four men. Two others lay in the curious positions the dead assume.

  MY APPROACH was silent. The first they knew of my presence was when one of them fell face forward. He fell straight down. He looked kind of funny, what with his head going one way and his body another. Nor did I waste time in watching him. Once again my tennis came to a more different use. I’d used a forehand on the first. The second fell into a backhand that Riggs would have envied. There was only one thing wrong with it. I clouted this character across the chest. The blade went all the way into him. And stuck there. I yanked at it and finally stuck one foot up against the guy and tried to pull it out, but no use. It wasn’t till I thought of the dead man’s sticker and turned and picked it off the ground that I realized that all the time I was vulnerable to attack from the other two.

  I needn’t have worried. They were being taken care of but good. My Lovah child was no mean shakes with the sword. Those two characters were dancing a pretty good Lindy to the tune she was playing. I’m sure they wanted to be anywhere else but where they were. Even as I watched she lunged with her sword straight out and pinked one of the boys right through his throat. He wasn’t going to swallow anything for a long while without it leaking out.

  “Lovah!” I screamed suddenly. “Watch it!”

  She had slipped on a wet spot of grass and in that second the other one was at her side. Her sword had flown out of her hand as she threw up her arms trying to maintain a balance. She was completely helpless and I was too far from her to help. There was but one thing to do. I lifted my sword and heaved it, point forward. The guy’s sword was already coming down when mine hit. It went all the way through him. He fell straight down over the girl. And from where I was standing it looked like I’d thrown too late.

  “Angel,” I moaned as I ran forward and knelt at her side. I shoved the carcass of the goon who’d fallen over her, to one side and lifted her up. “Angel! Talk to me . . .”

  “I will,” she said, “as soon as I get my breath back. Now,” she continued after I’d kissed her for a while, “let us get out of here. They’ll organize soon and we are too few to do more than we have . . .”

  She arose and puckered her lips into that tuneless whistle. In a second the two panthers came trotting to us. Their snouts were stained with blood and it drooled from the corners of their mouths. They hadn’t been loafing either. Lovar leaped into the flat saddle and I followed. There was no need to give the animals their orders. They knew by instinct what was expected of them.

  Whirling, they loped off at top speed through the thick growth. In a short while we joined the rest at the rendezvous agreed on. We took stock. Our entire losses were one warrior and two panthers. Jimno was elated.

  “We have halted them for a while. Now they will proceed with caution which was our purpose . . . About and make for the hills.”

  HANK had grim lines to his face.

  But they were erased at sight of me riding in the fore with Lovah and Jimno. Jimno shouted the news while we were still a hundred feet from the entire remnants of the camp. A wild yell of exultation went up from their throats at the news. Only Luria held her reserve. But even she could not help but smile.

  They surrounded us and asked a hundred questions. I let Jimno take the stage. The guy deserved it. He had staged a masterful ambush and had gotten away with remarkably small losses. Hank dragged me to one side and pumped me dry of what had happened.

  The sound of Luria’s voice broke up our gab-fest.

  “Let us not waste time in useless talk. Jimno and the others did a good job. They have delayed the pursuit for a time. But when they realize how small a force oppose
d them they will come the more quickly.

  “We cannot stay here and we cannot go in a single body to the place where we will be safe. Therefore, I think it best to assign squad leaders to groups who will then take different trails to our eventual goal.

  “Jimno, because you have proved your unquestioned leadership, you will take the largest group, all warriors, and fight a rear-guard action to delay and harass the enemy. Wamini and Saavah will lead the women and children by the trail I have outlined, to the place of safety. Lovah, you will be in charge of the balance of the warriors, men and women, who will wait here until Jimno returns, and fight a battle with the enemy. But that can wait until the others have left.”

  It was remarkable how little confusion there was. Luria amazed Hank and myself in her showing of leadership. It just didn’t seem right that so beautiful a woman should have qualities that was rightfully man’s. In a very short time several lines spread from the encampment in various directions, some toward the hills close by, others back in the direction from which we’d just come and one, the smallest group in a direction at right angles to the back trail. This group was led by Jimno. I wondered where they were going. When the last had left, only Hank, Luria, two of her personal guards, and myself were left.

  “And now,” Luria said turning to Hank and me, “we too must journey. Let us hope we are successful . . .”

  “Why? Where are we going?” Hank asked.

  “To the valley of the mists. To that same valley where first you saw me, as though in a dream. There, the Groana Bird makes his home, and there is where the dread beast of flame lives. We must bring back the Groana Bird . . .”

  “Why?” Hank asked again.

  “Because it was the symbol of my father’s strength. And even Loko will respect it and give up his pretensions. Remember how you were captured? He too wants the bird. But we have one thing in our favor. I know the bird’s haunts. He doesn’t.”