Fearless Master of the Jungle (A Bunduki Jungle Adventure (16 page)

For obvious reasons, the
raiding party
’s four ships had been left out at sea almost beyond visual
distance. Each was in the care of a small anchor watch and had had
its sails furled and struck below to help make it even less
noticeable. If they had been closer, Charole would have discovered
that they were painted black and the leaping sailfish motif was
reproduced in the natural colors on their extremely raked bows.
Despite the need to prevent the vessels’ presence being noticed,
thus giving warning that they were in the vicinity, a flag bearing
an equally well depicted killer whale in all of
Orcinus Orcas
black and white
majesty flew at each masthead to announce they were in the service
of the War-Lord Torisaki and War-Lady Shushi of the Tansha
clan.

In spite of the fact that the
Cara-Buntes
’
physical characteristics and weapons were suggestive of the Orient,
the ships showed a distinctly Arabian influence in their lines and
rigging. Single-masted, lateen-rigged,
^lii
carvel built, they were of shallow
draught and as sleekly sinister in appearance as any
zaruk
in which, until
comparatively recent times, slavers, gun-runners and smugglers—of
ivory in particular—had plied their nefarious trades across the
length and breadth of the Red Sea.
^liii

Operated by a system of blocks
and tackles, with the tiller-lines hanging over the side in a
completely exposed fashion, the rudder extended well below the keel
and, while offering greater control when steering, added several
inches to the overall draught. Not only did the bows rake forward
sharply, but the lines of the stern were equally acute. This made
the already weatherly vessels particularly suitable for handling in
a high following sea, or through the heavy surf around much of the
coastline of their homeland. Attached to the sides, which were
pierced for the large, heavy oars known as
‘sweeps’, were the davits whereby two
‘bullboats’ could be carried while the ships were in
passage.

Although the vessels were large
enough to take a crew of forty, the complement was normally
restricted to no more than thirty. This
allowed prisoners, a good quantity of
loot or—as in the case of Torisaki’s party—meat to be transported.
With the exception of the two berths situated beneath the short
upper steering deck at the stern, supplied for the captain and his
consort, there was no other shelter provided. However, this was
only a slight disadvantage and not a particularly severe hardship.
The
zaruks
and the
badans
^liv
preferred by some of the clans were
only used when making the two hundred or so mile crossing between
Cara-Bunte and the western side of the mainland, then raiding along
that coast.
^lv

As in the case between the
Mun-Gatahs and the
Brelefs,
the Cara-Buntes had a subservient race at their disposal.
Known as
Yung-Libs,
^lvi
they were tall, heavily built,
hairy—although not so much as the
Brelefs—
unintelligent and inclined to be lazy.
Their heads were long, large and narrow, while the features were
short and broad with a tall nasal opening and eyes that appeared
almost rectangular. Clad in animal skins, those in the camp were
not armed and served as porters, or in other forms of menial
capacity.

With the examination of her
surroundings completed, Charole had turned her thoughts to survival
and escape. She had realized that
the former was entirely dependent upon her
being able to achieve the latter. Various comments she had
overheard led her to assume that the Cara-Bunte behaved in the same
general fashion towards prisoners as her own people. Only those who
were young enough to pose no threat were retained as slaves. Any of
an age to be active warriors were either used for sacrificial
purposes or to fight in gladiatorial combats. So, unless she could
find some means of attaining her liberty before she was carried off
in the
zaruks,
she was doomed to certain death.

It was not a prospect
with
which
the Protectress was enamored.

Accepting these unpalatable facts,
Charole had no intention of submitting mildly to her fate. It was
not that she feared death. For all her faults, she had great
personal courage. Apart from her driving desire to regain her power
as the Protectress of the Quagga God, she was also motivated by a
disinclination to be killed for the entertainment of her
captors.

Having yielded to the
inevitable, Charole had succumbed to the waves of exhaustion that
were assailing her and fallen into a deep sleep. Nor had she been
disturbed by any of the raiding party. They were all occupied with
guard duties and setting up the racks upon which the meat they
would be gathering was to be sun-dried and turned into
fulsa,
or otherwise
prepared for being shipped to Cara-Bunte. When she had awakened,
the sun was almost touching the horizon. Although she had felt much
refreshed, she had not shown it. Instead, she had concentrated upon
conveying the impression that she was still asleep.

Muchkio had returned as the
light was fading accompanied by the party Torisaki had sent out to
assist with the butchering of the slaughtered
gatahs.
These were regarded as a
delicacy by the Cara-Bunte because they were acquired as trophies
of war. The party was laden down with the meat and with their
victims’ property. It had been apparent that the girl was not
enamored of the task she had been given, nor by having to turn over
the loot to the warlord. However, apart from looking sulky, she had
said and done nothing to make her sentiments known. She and the
rest of the party had gone to wash the blood and other signs of
their labor from them in the stream.

Waiting until night had fallen,
the Cara-Buntes had lit fires. While food was being prepared by
their
Yung-Lib
slaves, Shushi and Torisaki had started to examine the
loot. When they had searched the bundle which was strapped to
Charole’s saddle, they had clearly been impressed by the sight of
her ceremonial garments. However, before they had opened the bag
containing the ‘Thunder Powder’ and ‘Terrifiers’, the war-lady had
told Muchkio—who was standing close by in a way which suggested she
belonged to an influential family—to fetch the
Protectress.

As any member of the Mun-Gatah nation
could have warned the girl, she was not carrying out her task in
the most prudent fashion.

Propelling herself
up
wards with
great rapidity, Charole thrust her left arm between the girl’s
thighs. Catching Muchkio by the throat with her right hand, she
lifted the girl from the ground. Then, as the fingers untangled
from her hair, she swung around and hurled Muchkio from
her.

Startled exclamations arose and
everybody in the camp looked to see what was happening. Holding
their crescent-shaped
galaki
spears in positions of readiness, two of the men
who were standing guard began to hurry forward. So did Shushi and
some of the other women, but none of them offered to draw a
weapon.

Even as her victim alighted
supine on the soft sandy ground Charole darted after her ignoring
the approaching male and female warriors. Straddling the
girl
’s
weakly moving recumbent body, she delivered a vicious and
power-packed punch with first the right and then the left fist.
Already winded and dazed by the landing, Muchkio was unable to
resist. Her head was snapped back and forth by the blows, but she
did not feel the second land and went limp.

Leaping to her feet, Charole
looked around to find out which of the men and women who were
closing in upon her posed the greatest threat. She knew there was
no hope of fighting her way through them, but she meant to defend
herself. However, it soon became apparent that they merely intended
to prevent her from trying to es
cape and did not mean to take any punitive
action for what she had done to the girl.

‘
Nice work. I
couldn’t have done much better myself
,’ Shushi remarked calmly.
‘Come with me.’

‘
Very well,’
Charole assented, knowing that although the war-lady was no longer
carrying either the
rentjong
nor
halakas,
she had no other choice but to obey.

‘
Who
did these belong to?’ Torisaki asked, indicating the ceremonial
garments as his wife walked up with Charole.

‘
They’re
mine
,’ the Mun-Gatah woman replied, standing erect and speaking
proudly. ‘I am Charole, the Protectress of the Quagga
God.’

‘
Are
you!
’
Torisaki ejaculated, sounding both pleased and impressed.
Glancing at his wife, he continued, ‘Then she’s an even better
catch than we imagined, my lady.’

‘
She is,
lord
,’ Shushi agreed, studying Charole in a speculative
fashion. Then, picking up the sack, she tipped out its contents.
‘Huh! You must like coconuts, Protectress of the Quagga
God.’

‘
They’re not
just ordinary coconuts
,’ Charole corrected, seeing at last that a chance
was being offered. ‘In fact, using one of them, I can make thunder
and lightning.’

‘
That
I would like to see!’ Stated in tones redolent of
disbelief.

‘
Very
well
,’ Charole replied, trying to conceal her eagerness. ‘Give
one to me and you will see.’

‘
All
right
,’ Shushi said, picking up a “Terrifler” and looking it
over without seeing anything significant in the little piece of
“burning cord” that protruded from one of the “eyes”. Holding it
forward, she went on, ‘Here.’

‘
Wait!’ Torisaki barked, before Charole could take the
proffered device. He dropped his hand to the
lading
’
s
hilt ready to enforce his command. Sensibly, she
refrained and he growled, ‘While I’ve never seen
anybody
who can make it
happen, I know how dangerous lightning is when it strikes. So give
the coconut to that
Yung-Lib
there and tell him what to do with it.’

‘
It won’t work
that way
,’ Charole protested.

‘
It won’t work
in
any
way, you lying Mun-Gatah bitch!’ Shushi scoffed and,
tossing the “Terrifier” down, she lashed a slap across the
Protectress’s face.

Rocking on her heels, Charole emitted
a squeal of rage and pain, then brought her right fist across in a
punch to the war-lady’s jaw. Spun around and sent staggering a few
steps, Shushi managed to avoid going down. What was more, as
Charole darted forward, she tried to snap home the kind of kick
which had served her so well earlier. This time, the results were
far less satisfactory. Refreshed by the hours of sleep, the
Protectress was able to react with her usual speed. Catching the
rising ankle, she gave a twisting heave which flipped the other
woman over in a half somersault. Then, as Shushi landed on her
back, Charole bounded into the air and bent her legs so as to land
with her knees on Shushi’s breasts.

Once again, exclamations arose all
round and the Cara-Buntes started to gather. However, as when the
Protectress had thrown and leapt on to Muchkio, none of them—not
even the warlord—showed any sign of intervening. In fact, he stood
with folded arms and displayed nothing other than
interest.

Timing the move perfectly and in a way
that showed she might have been shaken, but was far from
incapacitated, Shushi rolled clear of her descending assailant. A
screech of rage burst from Charole as she saw her intended prey
avoiding her. It turned to a wail of distress as she came down and,
despite the sand being soft, felt some of the skin being peeled
from her knees. However, she could have thought herself fortunate
to have suffered no worse an injury; but she was not granted an
opportunity to do so. Twisting back in the direction from which she
had come, the war-lady coiled her body and folded her legs on to
her chest. Straightening them out quickly, she smashed both feet
full into the Protectress’s imposing bosom. A flood of agony rushed
through Charole and she went over backwards with her hands
clutching at the stricken area.

If Shushi had been less roughly
handled, she could have brought the fight to an end there and then.
As it was, sensing that there was an arduous struggle ahead,
both she and
Charole stayed down and let several seconds go by while they
recouped. Each was watching the other and they regained their feet,
a couple of yards apart, at almost the same instant.

Circling one another warily and
like two primeval jungle cats, the women paid not the slightest
attention to the exhortations of the crowd. As her sash had come
unfastened, Shushi shed her tunic to leave her clad only in a pair
of scarlet silk panties as brief as the
Protectess
’s
solitary garment. Long experience had taught the Cara-Bunte women
warriors the danger of fighting bare handed with the hair in the
traditional ponytail. So the war-lady knew what to do to alleviate
the risk. Reaching behind her head with her left hand, she jerked
off the semicircular silver band and shook her long black tresses
free.