‘Well, Bunduki of the “Earths”,’ said Charole, the Protectress of the Quagga God, looking down at the bound figure of the blond giant. ‘So we meet again.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying so,’ Bunduki replied. ‘The pleasure is all yours.’
‘You’d do well to consider what I mind, or I do not mind,’ Charole warned, kicking the helpless prisoner far from gently in the ribs. ‘I only wish that damned bitch of yours was here for me to deal with.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ the blond giant replied, thinking of certain sounds he had heard while recovering from the blow that had knocked him senseless. ‘She’s not too far away. And when she comes, Protectress-of-the Quagga-God-who-failed-in-her-duty, she’ll make you wish you’d gone the way of the High Priest of your accursed nation.’
‘You speak well, Bunduki of the “Earths”,’ praised War-Lord Torisaki, pushing Charole aside as she tried to deliver another kick to the prisoner. ‘Let us hope that your courage doesn’t make you blind to your danger and suffering when we ask you to tell us how to make the “Thunder Powder”.’
Despite a mutual eagerness on the part of the Protectress, Torisaki, and War-Lady Shushi, to set off in search of the ‘Earths’, they had been unable to do so for several days. Having been sent by the Emperor of Cara-Bunte to have the ‘honor’ of providing the large quantities of meat required for a religious festival, and knowing that any failure would be used as an excuse to depose them, the war-lord and his wife had been too cautious to offer such an opportunity. So they had considered that they must complete the task before embarking upon a private mission. If they did not, on the pretence of investigating their ‘disappearance’, their ruler would send a strong enough force to deal with them. There had been another benefit from attending to their duty. Its completion had, by sending the others to deliver the meat that was gathered, given them an excuse for parting company with all but the crew of their own zaruk. Knowing their race’s inborn aptitude for conspiracy, they were aware that the fewer people involved would reduce the chance of betrayal. To attain the greatest effect from the possession of ‘Thunder Powder’ and ‘Terrifiers’, they must be kept a secret until brought into use.
There had also been benefits in the delay for Charole. It had allowed her to recuperate from the results of the two grueling fights. With the exception of the ‘Thunder Powder’ and ‘Terrifiers’, all her property had been returned. Although she had been kept under observation, no restrictions had been placed upon her movements around the camp. Not that she had wanted to escape. She had never been on a ship, but was sufficiently intelligent to appreciate how travelling in such a manner would offer a better chance of locating the ‘Earths’. It had been her belief that they would have organized lookouts among the Telongas and, even if the latter would not fight, on receiving a warning of enemies approaching the two of them would disappear into the jungle. A force arriving unexpectedly by river, which the Mun-Gatahs had never done, was more likely to catch them unawares.
At last all had been ready for the expedition. Charole had allowed herself, not without trepidation, to be transported in a ‘bullboat’ to the warlord’s zaruk. Showing a surprising compassion, Shushi had supplied her with a medication that had quelled the sea-sickness that had assailed her. After the first qualms had passed, she had enjoyed the novel sensation of travelling in such a fashion. One thing she had learned early in the journey. Useful though her sandals were when riding a horse, they offered no such advantages on the deck of the zaruk. So she had adopted the Cara-Buntes’ way of going barefoot.
Fortune had appeared to favor the expedition. After only one day’s searching along the coast, they had captured the three surprisingly cooperative Wurka-Telongas and were guided to their destination. When discussing the plan of campaign, learning that this branch of the normally pacific nation were noted for belligerence although she had seen no sign of it in the trio who had fallen into their hands, Charole had suggested that-being the only one who knew how to make them work—she should carry along the ‘Terrifiers’. In this she had only been partially successful. While Torisaki had allowed her to do so, he had restricted her to only one of the devices. Bunduki had not noticed it when he first saw her, but she was carrying her ‘fire box’ and a bag containing the ‘Terrifier’ hanging across her shoulders.
For his part, the blond giant had been fortunate. Although the blow he had received knocked him unconscious, the throwing stick had been sent his way at less than full power. In fact, he had been felled by the warlord who was a master in the use of the weapon and wanted to make sure that he was taken alive. As Charole had done on the day of her capture, he had managed to avoid allowing his captors to discover he was conscious for several minutes. By the time the Protectress had come over to favor him with her attentions, his head was clear if aching and he felt that his strength had returned. He had drawn some small comfort from there having been no sign of Dawn and in seeing that, still bound hand and foot, Hav-Bart was alive.
‘Why should I need courage to answer questions?’ the blond giant asked, despite having a good idea of the reason.
‘We wouldn’t ask questions from a warrior of your standing without putting him to torture first and letting him display his courage,’ Torisaki explained, confirming Bunduki’s suspicions. ‘Would you have it any other way?’
‘Even if I knew how to make the “Thunder Powder”, you wouldn’t make me tell you,’ the blond giant stated. ‘No matter what torture you try.’
‘You don’t know how to make it?’ Shushi yelped, then turned an angry glare at the Mun-Gatah woman. ‘Did you hear that?’
‘I heard,’ Charole agreed, just as indignantly. ‘He’s lying!’
‘Are you lying, “Earth”?’ the warlord demanded.
‘No,’ Bunduki said, his tone so convincing that he might have been speaking the truth. ‘ And I’ve no desire to be tortured for something that I don’t know. Our people have the secret of the “Thunder Powder”, but no man knows how to make it.’
Unconsciously, the blond giant had given an explanation that the Cara-Bunte couple at least could find acceptable. Among their nation, only women took the profession of herbalist and they were willing to assume the same applied with other races.
‘Does your woman know how to make it?’ Shushi asked.
‘No,’ Bunduki lied.
‘Does she?’ the war-lady repeated, delivering a savage stamping kick to the center of the captive’s chest.
‘No!’ Bunduki said again, the word coming out in a pain-filled gasp.
‘He won’t admit it even if she does,’ Charole stated. ‘Let’s catch her and ask her about it.’
‘How do we do that?’ Torisaki inquired.
‘Make him use one of the “Hairy People’s” calls to bring her here,’ the Protectress suggested. ‘If she hears it, she’ll come.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ the warlord agreed and glanced around. ‘Here, some of you. I want him between those trees. Start to bend them down.’
Eager hands took hold of Bunduki and hauled him to the desired position. Other members of the party grasped the ropes and began to pull. While they were doing so, Torisaki grasped the blond giant by the hair and hauled him into a sitting position, telling Shushi to liberate his hands. By the time the trees were bent sufficiently low, the war-lady had carried out her task. Her husband took one of the shorter ropes and, while she repeated the process at the other side, drew its noose tight around their captive’s right wrist.
‘Keep them held down, but tight as he gets up,’ the warlord commanded, as Shushi employed her rentjong again to sever the rest of the blond giant’s bonds.
Although Deneb-Ginwe had told his captors of the trees’ purpose, he had not given precise details of how they were employed. So Torisaki was making a few errors in the way he was fastening the trees. In the first place, he should not have allowed Bunduki to rise. Secondly and even more important, he ought to have made sure that the blond giant was unable to grip the wrist-ropes.
‘Now, “Earth”,’ the warlord said, after Bunduki had risen. ‘Call for your woman to come.’
‘No!’ the blond giant replied.
Standing on spread apart feet, with his arms bent at shoulder height against the pressure being applied by the taut ropes around his wrists, Bunduki appreciated how his captors had made another mistake in permitting him to adopt such a posture. Not that, he told himself, it would make any great difference in the long run; but it at least gave him a fighting chance to prolong his life.
‘You might as well call her,’ Shushi remarked, almost as if tendering kindly and well-meant advice to a friend. ‘If we have to go into the village for her, we’ll not leave a man, woman or child alive. And, when she sees how you’ve died, she’ll be only too willing to talk.’
‘I won’t call!’ Bunduki declared.
‘Then die, damn you!’ Torisaki bellowed. ‘Release the ropes!’
Obeying their leader’s command, the Cara-Buntes and Charole watched the trees—which had required five men apiece to bend—starting to return to their original positions.
They were stopped long before becoming upright!
Bracing his giant body, Bunduki threw every bit of his enormous strength into combating the strain. He was helped by the various errors that had been made while preparing him for the treatment. Usually the victim was given no chance to make ready and was subjected to a sudden snapping jerk. While he had none of that to add to his misfortunes, he was all too aware of his position. Even if his captors did not take some action to make him relax, he could only restrain the trees while his strength held out. When he weakened, they would straighten and, at the very least, he would be swung upwards and seriously injured.
~*~
‘AAAH-EEE-AAAH-EEE-AAGH!’
The voice uttering the challenging roar of an Australopithecus might be feminine in timbre, but the sound lost little of its awesome menace because it had not been sent out by a male of the species. Coming as it did so unexpectedly, from beyond the bushes at the opposite side of the Place of Punishment to that on which the Wurka-Telonga village was situated, it aroused considerable alarm and consternation for most of the occupants of the clearing.
Everybody except the prisoners looked around, trying to discover who—or what—was responsible for the inhuman-sounding roar. Of them all, probably only Charole and Bunduki recognized the nature of the call and knew what it must portend. However, the blond giant alone was able to guess at how his wife was intending to try and effect his rescue.
Much as Dawn Gunn’s every instinct had been to dash straight out of Hav-Bart’s house and warn her husband of the terrible danger that lay waiting for him, circumstances had prevented her from doing so immediately. Attracted by the commotion, men and women had appeared from the surrounding buildings and soon the whole of the grown up population was foregathered. What was more, every man was carrying something that could be used as a weapon.
One of the last to come on the scene had been Tik-Felum. On seeing what had happened, his face had registered more alarm than grief over finding that his younger son was dead. He had seen enough to warn him that he had committed a dangerous error in tactics. All the men upon whom he was best able to rely for support were unavailable. From the comments he had overheard and the way in which many of the crowd were behaving, he had guessed that he might have need of his coterie’s presence.
Sensing that the villagers were close to rising against the Senior Elder’s tyrannical regime and wanting to avoid bloodshed if possible, Dawn had warned the assembled people that the Cara-Buntes were in the vicinity. However, filled with rage, grief and raw anxiety for her abducted husband’s welfare, Marn-Bara had exposed the treachery of Tik-Felum and his sons. Before Dawn could intervene, giving a cry of rage, Hav-Bart’s younger brother, Kal-Bart, had sprung forward to bury the blade of his machete in the Senior Elder’s skull.
Much to Dawn’s relief, the killing had not provoked an outbreak of inter-factional fighting. In fact, she considered that it had averted hostilities. There were a few men present who had agreed with Tik-Felum’s policy of keeping themselves supplied through the efforts of others who were willing to work, but none felt any inclination to try and avenge him. Already aware of the majority of their fellow villagers’ sentiments, most of them had assumed airs of disinterest from the beginning. The few who had showed resentment, despite appreciating that their days of officially sponsored idleness were probably coming to an end, had taken warning from the menacing attitudes of the people around them. So they had decided that discretion was called for, and they saw no reason to make a pointless display of loyalty to a man who was already dead.
Satisfied that the situation was well under control and needed no further attention on her part, although it had taken several badly needed minutes to achieve this, Dawn had announced that she was going to help her husband. Immediately, Kal-Bart and several other men had offered to accompany her. Telling them that she would reconnoiter alone first and give the call of a ‘Hairy Man if she needed assistance, she had prepared to leave.
Taking her bow from Marn-Bara, the girl had arranged to have the m’kuki retrieved. She had not waited for this to be done, but had asked Hav-Bart’s wife to take care of it. Considering her back-quiver would be more of a hindrance than an aid to the work ahead, she had left it and Bunduki’s archery equipment behind. Then, having cleaned and sheathed her knife, she had set off.
By the time Dawn had reached the edge of the clearing, Bunduki was sprawling motionless on the ground. There had been no hope of achieving anything in the circumstances, but she had drawn solace from observing that he was bound hand and foot. That implied he was not only alive, but that he had suffered no serious or incapacitating injury.
Hearing the elephants, the girl had considered that they could offer a better and more readily available source of assistance than the men of the village would be. Passing around the fringe of the clearing, she had been too preoccupied with moving as swiftly and quietly as possible to wonder how the Protectress of the Quagga God—who she too had recognized—had contrived to escape death at Bon-Gatah and arrive in the Place of Punishment. Making contact with the animals and obtaining their co-operation had consumed several valuable minutes, but she had been convinced that it was time well spent.
Nor had the girl changed her point of view on returning to the vicinity of the clearing.
That Dawn and her massive assistants had arrived without their presence being detected was not as remarkable as it might appear on the surface. For its size, a forest elephant could move with great stealth and in almost complete silence through even fairly dense undergrowth. Aware of the need to do so, the half a dozen cows and the big herd bull she was riding had approached the clearing with little noise. Their task had been made easier because all the attention of the human beings they were stalking was directed at the blond giant.
Then the girl had impersonated the Australopithecus’ challenge!
As the last note of the eerie cry was ending, so did the elephants’ silence!
Echoing the savage trumpeting of the herd bull, the pachyderms rushed through the undergrowth as if it did not exist. With their great sail-like ears spread and flapping, trunks curled upwards and tusks elevated to the horizontal, they thundered across the clearing.
Due to their homeland being insufficient in size to support a resident population of elephants and because it would have been impractical to transport living specimens in any type of vessel available to the Cara-Buntes, the huge beasts were something beyond the raiding party ken. Although some of the rival clans had occasionally brought back tusks, trunks, hides and meat, Torisaki’s warriors had never seen the animals in the flesh until that moment. However, despite the fact that their nerves had been shaken by what had sounded like the roar from one of the ‘Hairy People’, the discovery that the largest of the beasts was ridden by a beautiful young woman—who also appeared to be able to control the others—robbed the sight of some of its otherwise awesome effect. So, while alarmed and prepared to take reasonable precautions, they were not driven off in a state of panic as Dawn had hoped would happen.
Only Charole, having been in contact with the larger plains-dwelling sub-species of Loxodonta Africana, fully appreciated the deadly danger of the situation. Nor did she feel it was any the less dangerous because the elephants brought by Dawn were somewhat smaller than those with which she was acquainted. In fact, such was the extreme stress of the moment that the approaching animals seemed to be even more enormous and menacing than those she had previously encountered. For one of the rare occasions in her life, Charole allowed fear to guide her actions. Turning, she ran towards the brink of the escarpment. By doing so, she was offering herself two possible avenues of escape. There was a steep path leading down to the place at which they had landed and where the ‘bullboats’ were now waiting. Or, if this should prove unattainable for any reason, she was an excellent swimmer and could dive with comparative safety into the deep water that lapped along the foot of the majority of the wall. Once aboard a ‘bullboat’, she was confident that she could make the Yung-Lib crew do her bidding. They were aware that her status had gained importance since forming an alliance with their owners.
While Torisaki lacked Charole’s knowledge of elephants, he realized that Dawn would not have brought them unless convinced they could cope with his party. Their sheer size alone meant that they could prove very dangerous. Nor would the small force at his disposal be able to stop them. What was more, he suspected that the roar made by the girl was to signal for reinforcements. So, for reasons of expediency rather than humanity, he gave thought to saving his warriors from loss of life.
‘Scatter into the trees!’ the warlord thundered, snatching the lading from its sheath. ‘Get back to the “bull-boats”, we’re leaving!’
Sharing her husband’s appreciation of the peril, Shushi did not wait to be given advice. A glance over her shoulder warned that she could not follow Charole and take the shortest way to safety. So she swung and set off in what would be a semi-circular route to reach the edge of the escarpment.
In spite of having started the other members of his party on their way to safety, Torisaki did not follow them immediately. As he was to be driven off without learning the secret of the ‘Thunder Powder’ and doubted whether he would ever again be fortunate enough to be in a position to learn it, he intended to kill the blond giant before taking his departure. Raising the lading to strike, he moved forward without showing any caution.
On the point of deciding which avenue of escape offered the greatest possibilities, Charole became aware that she was carrying what might prove a means of turning the situation back into her favor. Even if it did not, she would be able to avenge herself by bringing about the deaths of one, hopefully both, of the ‘Earths’. With that in mind, pausing close to the rim of the escarpment, she started to take out the ‘Terrifier’.
Seeing the warlord rushing at him, Bunduki was all too aware of his peril. Dawn was unable to use her bow with any hope of success from the pitching back of the fast moving elephant. Nor was she close enough to do anything else to help. So his salvation would have to be achieved unaided. As the lading rose until it was behind Torisaki’s head, the blond giant took a firmer grip on the wrist-ropes. Then he bounded as if performing a wrestling drop kick. Hurling his legs forward, the soles of his feet drove into the center of his assailant’s chest.
The sheer force and unexpectedness of the attack flung the warlord backwards in the direction of an elephant. Winded and hurt so badly that he dropped his weapon, he felt the trunk coiling around his body. The scream which burst involuntarily from him came to an abrupt end as the elephant’s precision instrument tightened with brutal efficiency. Raised into the air, he was dashed down again and a huge forefoot ground his body into a bloody pulp beneath it.
Although the Cara-Buntes had scattered in obedience to their leader’s orders, they were merely displaying discretion. In fact, one of the women was sufficiently cool to try and salvage something from the situation. After his capture, Bunduki’s shield and knife had been examined and laid aside until they could be delivered to the ‘bullboats’. Like the others, she had been impressed by the excellent quality of the weapons and she decided to collect them before leaving.
As she saw the woman running towards the weapons, Dawn was determined to prevent them from being stolen. Bunduki was dealing with the warlord and she had no fears for his immediate safety. What was more, she had already made arrangements for him to be helped.
Swinging her leg forward, she thrust herself clear of the swiftly moving elephant’s back. Alighting with the catlike agility that had brought her success as a gymnast, she used the momentum she had gathered in closing with the woman.
So eager was the female warrior to acquire such desirable loot that she failed to appreciate the danger. She was bending over to take up the weapons when she received notice of the Earth girl’s proximity. Rising, Dawn’s right foot caught the woman in the face. Lifted erect, with her nose gushing blood, she went over backwards and her head struck the ground hard enough to knock her senseless.
Although Bunduki had saved himself from the warlord’s attack and contrived to alight on his feet, the terrible strain being imposed upon his arms increased. However, he was not to suffer for much longer. Advancing and displaying the sagacity for which their species was renowned, two of the elephants applied their tremendous weight and strength to snap and bring down the trees. This gave him relief, but he was still held by the ropes around his wrists.
Glancing around as she heard the crackling of breaking wood, Dawn appreciated the gravity of Bunduki’s predicament. Having carried out their function, the elephants were running on and the rest of the herd was chasing individual members of the Cara-Bunte party. There was a chance that some of the warriors who were not the subject of the animals’ attentions would return and take up the attack.
Thinking fast, the girl decided what she could do for the best. Plucking her husband’s knife from where it was sticking in the ground, she ran towards him. Equally aware of the peril, Bunduki put his right foot on the tree and drew the cord tight about his wrist. That allowed his wife to liberate the arm all the more quickly. Slicing through the strands, the razor sharp steel made short work of their destruction.
There was no time for either Dawn or the blond giant to speak. Nor was she able to complete the task. A fortunate gaze around informed her of what the Protectress was doing. The discovery brought pure primitive emotion. What little shred of the girl’s civilized upbringing remained after the traumatic events of the evening disintegrated as her eyes met those of the woman who had twice almost caused her death.
‘Charole!’ Dawn screamed, and the raw animal fury in her voice made the word a savage, primeval challenge to mortal combat rather than a name.
Throwing aside her bow without a thought that she might damage it, Dawn thrust the unsharpened back of the bowie knife’s blade into Bunduki’s liberated hand. Then, snatching her own weapon from its sheath, she darted towards her hated enemy.
Seeing Dawn coming, Charole forgot her original intentions. All the deep and bitter hatred she felt over the way in which the ‘Earths’ had been responsible for the reverses in her fortunes boiled into a seething rage. She had the ‘Terrifier’ in her right hand and was fumbling with the lid of the ‘fire box’ so as to extract the means of igniting it. Discarding the device, she jerked free the carrying strap of the ‘fire box’ and let it fall. With both hands at liberty and an encumbrance to mobility disposed of, she started to snatch out her sword.
Running through the trees, Shushi had heard and identified her husband’s scream of mortal pain. Looking around, past the cow elephant which was in hot pursuit, she swerved and flattened her back against the trunk of a large tree. What she had seen so filled her with rage that she ignored the danger to herself. Puzzled by her disappearance, the cow had its eye caught by one of the fleeing male warriors. It thundered past the hidden war-lady and made him the successful subject of its attentions.
Returning to the clearing, Shushi was in a frenzy of grief and anger. For all that, she was able to decide how best to avenge her husband’s death. Although the blond giant had one arm free, his other was still fastened to the top of the broken tree. So she would be able to take a more subtle vengeance than killing him immediately. His woman was running towards Charole. Her death would let him know the pangs of losing a loved one, but only for as long as it took the war-lady to give him her undivided attention.
With that thought in mind, Shushi snatched free the uppermost of her two halakas. No other woman in Cara-Bunte-the weapon was only employed by female warriors-could equal her skill in throwing for distance and accuracy. Never had she taken more care, nor been so determined to make a hit, as while she was preparing to deal with the ‘Earth’ woman.
The hole in the center of the halaka was for carrying purposes only. To throw it, the user held it between her thumb and forefinger, then swung her arm in a whip like motion horizontally from left to right.
Carrying out the procedure in a way that had become second nature to her, Shushi sent the weapon hissing towards the ‘Earth’ woman’s running back. It was aimed to catch her behind the neck and would come close to taking her head from her shoulders when it arrived.
‘Drop, Dawn!’ Bunduki roared, having seen what the war-lady was up to and retaining a vivid memory of how one of the Wurka-Telongas had been killed by such a device.
Although the girl had no idea why her husband had given the warning, the urgency in his tone was such that she instantly obeyed. Nor was she a moment too soon. Spinning by above her head, the halaka almost brushed against her hair in passing. However, having missed, it continued its flight to Charole’s horror.
On the point of dashing to meet the ‘Earth’ girl, the Protectress saw the deadly missile thrown and its aftermath. To her terror, the razor-edged, whirling harbinger of death was now coming straight at her. Although involuntary, her reaction was to save her life. Forgetting how close she was to the edge of the escarpment, she took a pace to the rear. Her foot came down on empty air and she toppled backwards. Just as it had narrowly missed Dawn’s head, so it came close to grazing the tip of Charole’s nose as it flew past. Managing to retain her hold on the sword as she plunged downwards, she also contrived to turn what started out as a helpless plunge into something just passable as a dive before she reached the river and entered it without injury.
Seeing the failure of her first halaka, Shushi did not offer to use the other. Instead, she rushed forward. Although she realized from what she saw that there was no hope of reaching her enemy before Dawn stood up, neither did she draw the rentjong. Not only could it be used most advantageously straight from the sheath, but the way in which it was produced had frequently allowed her to get the best of opponents from other nations who did not appreciate its deadly qualities.
Confirming the war-lady’s summation with regard to her agility, Dawn did not stay down for long. In fact, the moment the halaka had passed overhead, she prepared to rise. A glance over her shoulder had warned her of just how little time was available for her to do so. Bounding up, she whirled to halt in a knife-fighter’s crouch and studied the way in which Shushi was approaching.
Employing similar tactics to those that had proved successful in combats against captured Mun-Gatah, Gruziak and Amazon female warriors, the war-lady advanced with her hands held as if she did not intend to rely upon a weapon. Not until she was close enough for her system to operate effectively did she put her real purpose into effect. Darting across, her right hand closed around the extended butt of the rentjong s ‘duck’s head’ hilt. She commenced the move with her left leg in advance. As the blade was leaving the sheath with its cutting edge turned towards her enemy, she brought her right foot forward in a short, quick step that was calculated to add impetus to the stroke she was about to essay. The blow would be made by whipping the weapon to the right, turning her hand so that the palm was upwards and keeping the elbow close to her side. Then, on thrusting until the arm was fully extended, she would rotate her fist until its knuckles faced the ground just prior to the point penetrating the target.
On every previous occasion that Shushi had delivered such an attack, she had emerged victorious. However, none of her former antagonists had been conversant with the most effective way in which a rentjong could be used. Unfortunately for her, she knew nothing of Dawn’s family background.
In the course of an eventful life, Sir Armond John Drummond-Clayton had had many occasions when his continued existence had depended upon his ability to use a knife. So he had taken a great interest in all matters pertaining to the subject. While other members of his family had travelled the world studying wild animals, his journeying had also encompassed investigating the specialized ways in which the trenchant arms of various nations could be used.
Having helped in the production of her father’s book lxxvi —which had entailed a detailed study of films showing various types of weapons in use—and being possessed of an excellent retentive memory, Dawn was aware of the rentjong’s unique qualities. She had seen them being wielded by the designers, the Atjehs of Sumatra. Furthermore, she had learned the counter move perfected by Sir Armond. What was more, effective as the rentjong was, she held the finest product that the experience of expert knife-fighters and skilled craftsmen could produce. lxxvii One noted authority lxxviii had referred to the Randall Model 1 ‘All Purpose’ fighting knife as a ‘refined and perfected “bowie”. So she was well equipped materially as well as mentally to cope with this latest threat to her life.
Acting with the same almost instinctive reflexes that had carried her through all of the evening’s events, Dawn brought her knife around to meet the out-thrusting rentjong. At which point, Shushi learned how it felt to be taken unawares. It was a lesson from which she would never profit. She realized that her weapon was being deflected. Even as an understanding of what that meant began to sink home, it was too late to react to the peril.
Liberating her own blade, Dawn used it with swift and deadly precision!
Flickering briefly as it moved, a gash which became crimson an instant later opened across the war-lady’s throat in the wake of the knife’s passage. Letting the rentjong slip from her fingers, she sent her hands in a mindless and futile attempt to staunch the blood that was pouring from the mortal wound. Stepping swiftly aside as she completed the stroke, Dawn allowed her stricken assailant to be carried onwards by the momentum of the averted attack. Knowing that she was dying on her feet, Shushi forced herself to stumble onwards until she could fall across the lifeless body of her husband.
Still in the throes of the primeval driving force which more than anything else had kept her alive under conditions she had never known on Earth, Dawn tossed a look after the war-lady. Then she ran to the edge of the escarpment. Down below, she saw Charole being hauled into one of the ‘bullboats’. Under the urgings of the Protectress, it was cast off and set into motion.
Hearing footsteps approaching, Dawn swung around ready to continue fighting. She discovered that there was no need. Having liberated himself, Bunduki was coming to join her. Before either could say a word, a hate-filled voice rose from beyond the rim of the cliff.
‘The Quagga God curse you, Dawn and Bunduki of the “Earths”. I’ll be revenged upon you yet!’
Moving forward, the blond giant and his wife looked down at the speaker. Standing in the departing ‘bullboat’, Charole was shaking a furious fist at them.
‘She means it, darling,’ Bunduki warned.
‘Let her come back any time she likes,’ Dawn replied, spitting out the words savagely. ‘But if she does, I’ll make sure she’ll never have another chance to kill us!’