Coming from the house followed by Marn-Bara, Dawn Gunn saw the danger to her husband and was prepared to deal with it. She had not waited to do more than snatch up the m’kuki before, telling the Wurka-Telonga girl to bring the two back-quivers and Bunduki’s bow, setting off after him. For all that, by the time she emerged, he had reached the gap between the house and the attack was being launched. On the point of dashing forward to help him deal with the two assailants, she noticed the third man rising from his hiding place on the roof of the porch.
Although Dawn had not thought to nock an arrow to the bow, she made no attempt to rectify the omission. There would be insufficient time for her to do so and, anyway, she had another means of help more readily available. Pure instinct had caused her to take up and carry the m’kuki in a position suited to the purpose for which it had been designed. So she was able to put to use the training in how to throw it that she had shared with Bunduki.
How well Dawn had learned was demonstrated when, at an athletics meeting in Amabagalsi, she had used some of the knowledge to help her send a javelin for a distance equaling the record set in 1938 by the Finnish male athlete Yrjo Nikkanen. lxix Nor had her education been confined to merely attaining a lengthy throw. In fact, her original tutors had been more concerned with instilling accuracy rather than just distance. Even before being transported to Zillikian, she had kept up her practice, and the arrival of the m’kuki had allowed her to bring her ability to a high level.
Letting the bow slip from her left hand, Dawn took three running strides while raising the m’kuki ready for casting. Taking aim as she had been taught, she whipped her right arm back and forward. Its wrist applied the twisting motion that, despite looking almost effeminate when performed by a man, imparted an added velocity and accuracy to the throw. On leaving her grasp, the stiffening ridges along the sides of the blade caused the weapon to rotate as if it was a bullet passing through the grooves along the barrel which gave a ‘rifle’ its name. The speed with which it was travelling caused a whistling hiss and it was soon moving almost faster than the human eye could follow.
Too swiftly, in fact, for the man on the roof to realize his peril. He was still drawing back on his bow when the m’kuki reached him, striking with such force that the blade plunged into his back and emerged from his chest. Giving a scream of mortal agony, he tossed his bow aside and, clutching at the shaft of the weapon that was killing him, he spun around and toppled from the roof.
Glancing back on hearing the scream, Bunduki gave a wave of gratitude with his bloody-bladed knife. Then he started to run onwards in the direction of the main gate.
‘Come oil!’ Dawn ordered, throwing a look at Marn-Bara and bending to retrieve her bow. ‘I’ll collect the m’kuki after I’ve seen you safely home.’
Setting off with the other girl, Dawn slid the Randall Model 1 ‘All Purpose’ fighting knife from its sheath. She held it ready for combat, with the eight-inch long clip-pointed blade extending ahead of her thumb and forefinger. Although she was alert for any sign of danger, they arrived at Marn-Bara’s house without being molested.
‘Did you close the door when you came out?’ Dawn whispered, noticing that it was just a little way open.
‘Yes,’ Marn-Bara replied, cool enough in spite of her fears for Hav-Bart’s well-being to keep her voice equally quiet.
‘In that case,’ Dawn said, still sotto voce and holding out the bow. Take this and stay here.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Marn-Bara inquired, accepting the weapon.
‘Take a leaf from—hey, he’s my cousin-in-law now-Brad Counter’s book,’ Dawn replied, without realizing that she was speaking English until she was half way through the far from succinct explanation.
Making no attempt to translate the cryptic comment, the Earth girl darted forward. While visiting a ranch owned by the relatives of Bunduki’s Texas-born mother, she had seen his look-alike cousin, Bradford Counter, demonstrate various aspects of a peace officer’s work. In the course of his duty as a deputy sheriff in Rockabye County, Texas, he often had the need to gain swift and unexpected access to a building or room. So he had perfected effective ways of making an entrance. lxx
Despite being bare-foot, Dawn was confident that she could duplicate one of Brad’s techniques. The door she was approaching stood slightly ajar and she would not need to supply enough power to spring a lock. On reaching the most appropriate distance, she launched her left leg forward and turned the foot so that its sole and not the toes made the contact. Swiftly taken as it had been, the kick propelled the door open with some force. It struck something and there was a yell which informed the girl that her precaution was worthwhile. However, she did not allow herself to be lulled into a sense of false security by hearing the subsequent thud such as would be made by somebody sitting down unexpectedly on the floor. If there had been only one person lurking within, he was unlikely to have elected to stand at the hinged side of the door.
With that thought in mind, Dawn plunged across the threshold. Instead of going in erect, she crouched and, as a glance to her left proved, once again she was taking a necessary precaution. Although the room she entered was unlit, the quarter moon gave just sufficient illumination for her to see and identify the man-who was striking at her with a dapur bener kris-as the Senior Elder, Tik-Felum’s younger son, Han-Ateep.
Unfortunately for the young man, his blow was aimed at a height which would have taken the girl across the throat if she had entered erect. As it was, the weapon passed harmlessly above her head. There was no time for Dawn to have conscious thoughts. She responded instinctively, but with the deadly precision of a highly trained knife-fighter. Twisting towards her assailant, she drove the razor-sharp blade into his stomach and his impetus took it home almost to the unlugged brass double hilt. Then, almost of its own volition, it emerged as her advance into the room drew on the sambur horn ‘finger-grip’ handle and liberated it. Clasping at his wound, Han-Ateep stumbled screaming through the door and collapsed at Marn-Baras feet.
Having disposed of her attacker, Dawn did not forget that he had at least one companion present. So, advancing a few long strides across the room, she gazed about her rapidly to make sure there were no more. Satisfied on that score, she swung around to find out who the man behind the door might be and what he was up to.
Surprised, slightly dazed and with some of the breath knocked from him by being hit by the door and dumped unceremoniously on his rump, Flant-Wlip had managed to retain his hold on his kris when he sat down. What was more, muttering obscenities, he was already starting to rise.
The situation was such that Dawn did not dare consider thoughts of sporting behavior. Not when she was opposed by a man taller, heavier and, possibly, stronger than herself; particularly as he was armed with a weapon almost three times the length of her own.
Darting forward, the girl saw a mixture of alarm and fear come to the man’s unprepossessing face. Although he contrived to thrust himself erect before she reached him, his haste threw him off balance. Nor was he granted an opportunity to rectify the situation, or to defend himself.
Despite her antipathy towards Flant-Wlip and all that his kind stood for, Dawn could not bring herself to kill him while he was temporarily unable to fight back. Equally, she was aware that he would not hesitate to take her life if he was given the slightest chance. Furthermore, he must be incapacitated and prevented from delaying her departure after Bunduki.
With all those points in mind, the girl lashed around her knife like the strike of a diamondback rattlesnake. Its blade sliced through the skin, flesh, muscles, sinews, veins and arteries of Flant-Wlip’s right forearm until it scraped the bone. Blood spurted from the wound in the wake of the withdrawing steel and the kris fell from a hand he would never again be able to use.
‘Don’t kill me!’ the stricken man screamed, toppling backwards into a sitting position and cowering away from the menacing figure with its gore-smeared knife. ‘The Cara-Bunte are waiting to ambush Bunduki at the Place of Punishment. Don’t kill me for giving you the warning.’
~*~
Unaware of exactly what was happening to his wife, although the screams he had heard as he was passing through the main gates of the palisade had been masculine in their timbre and he knew they could not have been made by Dawn Bunduki also did not know that he was advancing into greater peril than he had anticipated. From what he could now see, he realized that things were even graver than he had expected. What was more, he was not arriving any too soon. It was clearly going to be death and not merely chastisement that was to be inflicted upon Hav-Bart. However, Marn-Bara had badly underestimated the number of Tik-Felum’s coterie who were involved.
In a fair-sized clearing that was surrounded on three sides by fairly dense jungle and terminated on the fourth by the edge of the escarpment, was the Wurka-Telongas’ Place of Punishment. Out in the middle, Sraat-Challig and nine more of the Senior Elder’s supporters were hard at work. Split into a group of five on either side of the bound and gagged dissident, they were straining to bend over a couple of sturdy trees which were clearly prepared for the purpose. Both had had all their foliage and branches removed and there were two ropes—the longer being pulled on by the Wurkas and the shorter equipped with a running noose—attached to the top of each.
The men were so engrossed in their task that none of them noticed the blond giant was approaching. Nor was there any reason for them to assume that he might be. They were too far from the village for the screams of Han-Ateep and other sounds to reach their ears. Furthermore, when Tik-Felum had dispatched them to deal with Hav-Bart, he had been less than frank regarding his reasons.
On calling his leading supporters together, the Senior Elder had made no reference to the news he had received shortly after nightfall. Han-Ateep and Flant-Wlip had arrived accompanied by a warrior who had announced he was a Cara-Bunte and served the War-Lord Torisaki, but he was not the pair’s captive. Rather it was the other way around. As soon as they had reached the ‘Lake with Only One Shore’, they and Deneb-Ginwe had been taken prisoner by the crew of the warlord’s zaruk. On learning what had brought their captors to the region, being desirous of saving their own skins, they had offered their services in helping to trap Dawn and Bunduki of the ‘Earths’. Nor had they given a moment’s thought to how doing this might endanger the lives of their fellow villagers.
Having had their suggestion accepted, the treacherous trio had guided the Cara-Buntes—who were now using the ‘bull boats’—through the maze-like waterways of the swampland. Even though night had fallen by the time they arrived, Torisaki had called a halt while they were still out of sight of the village. He had declared that he wanted nothing from the Wurka-Telongas and would leave them in peace after the ‘Earths’ were delivered into his hands. It had been Deneb-Ginwe who had proposed where the capture might most easily take place. However, he had not cared for the next development. He was retained as a hostage while the other two were sent to make the arrangements.
Seeing an opportunity to remove both of the ‘Earths’ and also the leading dissident against his regime, Tik-Felum had put all his devious conniving abilities to devising a scheme which would bring it about. Having the Cara-Bunte, Han-Ateep and Flant-Wlip keep out of sight while he was giving his instructions to the other members of his coterie, the latter had not known of the trio’s presence in his house.
It had taken all of the Senior Elder’s powers of persuasion to obtain compliance with his suggestions. Not until he had convinced the assembled men that it could be done with complete safety would they agree to carry out the proposals he was making. Their resolve had been stiffened by the memory of the unrest and near hostility which many of the community had started to display towards them since the disposal of the two ‘crocodiles’ by the Dapan-Dankara. It had now been accepted that the first was dead. So they had felt that the people needed to be taught a sharp lesson. Furthermore, they agreed that their numbers would be sufficient to cope with the ‘Earths’ if Tik-Felum’s story that Hav-Bart had gone on a hunting trip was not believed.
Giving his adherents no time to think up arguments, or raise points that might be open to question, Tik-Felum had sent them to their tasks. Only four would make the abduction, but another six were required to draw down the ‘breaking trees’. That had only left Jomus-Takn with two supporters for his task. They were to wait in ambush between the guesthouse and main gates to prevent the ‘Earths’ from interfering if an alarm should be raised.
As the Senior Elder had hoped, the abductors had relied upon the generally pacific behavior and obedience to male orders shown by their womenfolk when removing Marn-Bara’s husband. They had done no more than tell her to keep quiet before taking Hav-Bart away. However, after they had gone, she had shown something of the fresh spirit imbued among the population by the ‘Earths’ presence and she had gone to fetch help. Waiting in concealment, Han-Ateep and Flant-Wlip had entered the house—the Cara-Bunte having already departed to tell Torisaki of the arrangements—and Tik-Felum’s summation of how Dawn and Bunduki would react to the news had, unfortunately for them, proved correct.
Knowing nothing of the Senior Elder’s machinations, the men in the clearing believed that everything was going as planned. They were soon to learn differently.
While running from the village, Bunduki had heard the trumpeting of forest elephants not too far away. He had identified the particularly strident call of the big bull which led the herd Dawn and he had met on their way to the village, lxxi but there was not time for him to try and summon them and see if he could enlist their aid.
Accepting that whatever action he took must be carried out alone and unaided, unless his wife was able to come on the scene swiftly enough to help him, the blond giant had already decided upon his strategy. It was based on the method in which the Masai melombuki lxxii Kira-Kangano, had taught him was the best way to handle the shield when meeting the charge of a lion.
Dropping and advancing his left shoulder, with the arm bent in front of it, Bunduki peered over the top of the shield’s rim. This allowed the convex elliptical surface to cover all the vital areas of his body, with the exception of the top of his head. However, there was one major difference from the method he had been taught. No Masai moran, not even one who had attained the honored title of melombuki, ever advanced to meet the lion. He waited for it to come to him.
Bearing the heavy shield with no greater apparent effort than if it weighed as light as a feather, the blond giant did not merely continue to run across the clearing. Calling upon his tremendous reserves of strength, he actually increased his pace until he was moving in a manner more suitable for sprinting in a hundred yards’ race.
There was so much grunting and so many shouted accusations that one or another of the men was not pulling his weight (it being a characteristic of that kind of person that he would be terrified of the possibility that somebody else would do less than his share of work) none of the party—not even those facing in Bunduki’s direction—noticed the big newcomer until he had almost reached them.
Looking over his shoulder when the sound of the running feet finally made an impression on his ears, Sraat-Challig was the first to become aware of the blond giant’s arrival. At first, he thought that some form of evil spirit or unknown kind of animal was bearing down upon him at great speed. The traditional red ochre and white painted Masai heraldic device gave the shield a most eerie appearance in the half-light of the clearing. Even when he realized what it was and who was behind it, he could not hold back a yell that was more than three parts’ fear.
‘It’s the Dapan-Dankara!’
Letting go of the rope as he gave the warning, Sraat-Challig began to turn and his right hand went to the hilt of the dapur bener kris he was wearing. Behind him, also emitting shouts of alarm and consternation, the rest of his companions in both groups released their holds simultaneously. The trees snapped back to the perpendicular in a vicious whip-like motion that boded ill for anybody who was fastened between them when they were put to the function for which they had been prepared.
Before Sraat-Challig’s weapon was clear of its sheath, the blond giant had reached him. Bunduki did not try to stop, nor slow his pace. Instead, letting out a thunderous bellow like that of an enraged Mangani, he continued his headlong and yet completely controlled dash.
Thickset and burly though the Wurka might be, his nerves were far from steady and his footing insecure. So he was ill prepared to cope with the collision. Propelled by the driving force and with the great weight of the Herculean-thewed giant’s frame behind it, the shield caved in the front of his chest as if it had been an eggshell and flung him backwards. He plunged towards the four men who had been helping him to pull the rope, knocking three of them over. However, showing surprising agility in his perturbed frame of mind, the Wurka who had been next to him contrived to spring clear—but not quite far enough.
For all the good his evasion did, the man might as well have let himself become involved in the collision. Keeping moving with hardly any reduction of speed, Bunduki swung the bowie knife and disemboweled him in passing.
Hurdling his friend’s recumbent body and being spurred on by a gurgle from beneath the gag, the mighty blond plunged towards the second group. Having seen the deadly effect of his tactics, only two of them had the courage to stand their ground. From the way one was producing his kris, he at least had not neglected to acquire the ability which in the terminology of Japanese samurai warriors was called ‘lai-jitsu’. lxxiii While his only steadfast companion was still extracting the undulating blade from its sheath, he leapt and drove a blow at the approaching giant. Deftly interposed, the shield showed its mettle once again. While the assailing weapon was not shattered on this occasion, it rebounded from the unyielding surface and caused the startled Wurka to release the hilt.
Brushing aside the amazed and suddenly terrified man as if he was merely a bothersome insect, Bunduki delivered a backhand swing upwards with the bowie knife. In doing so, he demonstrated one of the advantages offered by the clip point. As sharp as and, in fact, forming an extension of the main cutting surface, the concave arc of the ‘false edge’ proved equally effective by slitting the second man’s throat to the bone and ending his attempt to arm himself.
Even as the blond giant was about to turn and start dealing with the men who he had felled by knocking Sraat-Challig’s dying body among them, he noticed something which brought him to a halt. There was a glinting flicker as a metallic object flashed from the bushes ahead of him. Converging with one of the fleeing Wurkas, whatever it might be did more than merely slit his throat. Nervous reaction alone kept him running for a few more steps. His head was dangling alongside his shoulder by a strip of uncut flesh.
An instant later, another of the departing Wurkas was transfixed by an arrow. Sounds from Bunduki’s rear suggested that the first party were also under attack from the as yet unseen assailants. Guessing what the instrument of decapitation must have been, he wondered who the newcomers might be. No nation with whom he had yet come into contact used a weapon similar to the kind the Karamajong and other tribes of Uganda used as a bracelet-knife. lxxiv
The blond giant was not kept for long before receiving the answer.
Carrying various types of weapons, most of which looked to be Oriental in origin, the mysterious assailants burst into view from all around the clearing. With one exception, he decided—from what Hav-Bart had told him during the boat journey from Jey-Mat—they were a party of the seagoing Cara-Buntes. lxxv
However, it was the exception which gave Bunduki his greatest shock.
Even with her hair cut shorter than on their last meeting, he recognized the tallest of the women to appear. She definitely was not a Cara-Bunte. Clad in her gold lamé costume and waving the ivory hilted sword he remembered so well, but with her legs and feet bare, it was Charole, the Protectress of the Quagga God.
Before Bunduki could begin to wonder how the Mun-Gatah woman had come to be with the Cara-Buntes, for he alone had managed to persuade members of two nations to work in harmony, he heard a swishing hiss coming his direction. Then, although he neither saw nor knew what it was at that moment, a throwing stick caught him on the head and he went down unconscious.