STILL IN THE lead of her companions, She Bear had almost reached the little woman they had been pursuing!
‘Die, Amazon bitch!’ the senior Gruziak female warrior shrieked conventionally, although—the bracelets and necklace being indicative of fairly high rank in that nation—she would prefer to take such a prize alive, launching a horizontal swing with the yataghan.
Aware of the intentions of her assailant, Kit Fox did not allow her surprise at seeing Late Comer impaled through the shoulder by an arrow to make her forget the more pressing danger. Deftly blocking the curved blade with her shield, she thrust forward the point of her sword almost simultaneously. Swiftly as she moved, her weapon was pushed aside by the protective device on She Bear’s left arm. Even as she was striking and having the blade deflected, there were other matters demanding her urgent attention. She noticed the Gruziak with the lance was closing in upon her from the right and the woman armed with the war club had swerved aside to approach from the left. Good warrior though she was, the little Apex knew she could not hope to deal with them all in such rapid succession that she would save her life, or prevent herself from being overpowered by weight of numbers if she was not killed outright.
‘Use the bow, Jill!’ Beryl Snowhill hissed, matching the conclusions of the Amazon and leaping forward as she was giving the command.
Even before the beautiful platinum blonde finished speaking and started to advance, Jill Jervis had arrived at an identical summation of the situation.
Still allowing the impulsion of her newly acquired reflexes to control her movements, although they were in fact really natural extensions of the instinct for self-preservation possessed by every living creature, the redheaded maid changed her point of aim slightly and sent off the arrow. Once again experiencing, the surge of primeval exaltation, somewhat dampened by the realization that her objective on this occasion was another human being, she sensed as she had with the Thomson’s gazelle ram that her missile was going to strike the intended target.
I
The sensation proved correct!
Converging with the unsuspecting Dry Runner, who had attention for nothing other than circumventing the attempts by She Bear and Catamount to count coup on the little Amazon, the arrow took her in the centre of the left breast. It proved as deadly effective as the one which had provided the meal for the Earth women. Letting the lance drop, she screamed in mortal agony and both hands rose involuntarily to clasp at the wooden shaft which protruded from her torso. Making an ineffectual attempt at drawing it out, she spun around, crumpling forward, she measured her length dying on the ground.
With sudden sensation of revulsion, the redhead realized she was the first of her party to have been forced to kill another human being on Zillikian. There was, however, no time for her to brood over this having happened. Instead, she continued to function on instinct. It was aided by the appreciation that she had no other choice in the matter. Having loosed the missile and seen it strike home, she followed the dictates of her subconscious mind in the way it suggested she should act next.
Beginning to follow her instinctive inclinations, she darted a glance at Charlotte Topper. What she saw satisfied her that she was correct in her assumption over what to do next and she commenced to put it into effect.
Watching her cousin dashing out of the bushes, meaning to lend assistance at close quarters to the little woman they were trying: to rescue, the statuesque brown haired beauty allowed the bow to slip from her grasp instead of extracting another arrow.
Aware that the quiver would prove an unacceptable encumbrance to what she was intending to do, she reached for the knot of the carrying strap. Tugging it apart, she divested herself of the quiver. Throwing a quick look, as she was lowering it to the ground, she found the redhead too was on the point of dispensing with the archery equipment.
‘Jill!’ Cha snapped, having a better assessment of tactics than that of the maid. ‘Keep your bow and cover us!’
Willing to accept the wisdom of the suggestion without question, the crisis having caused her to revert to the discipline absorbed as a member of Group Thirteen, the redhead halted her hand before it could set free the quiver. As the brunette was pulling out her sword and bounding after their leader, Jill extracted another arrow with red cresting. Following her companions at a slower pace, nocking the notch of the shaft to the string without needing to look down, she knew without telling what her part must be in any fighting still to come.
It was possible, Jill warned herself grimly, that she would have to propel other arrows into human flesh. What was more, “ma’am” and Cha were soon almost certain to be locked in hand to hand combat with the obviously competent female warriors and their male companion might also join the fray. In which case, unless the Suppliers had conditioned the blonde and brunette as well as she had found herself to be when needed, neither might survive the fighting at close quarters. Should they be killed, she realized she would be left alone on Zillikian.
The latter was a daunting prospect!
However, Jill knew she must not allow the thought of such a contingency to drive her into a state of despondency and panic. The lives of her companions and the little woman they were trying to rescue, as well as her own, might depend upon her being able to prevent the male warrior from coming to the assistance of the women he was accompanying.
Engrossed to the exclusion of any other consideration by her eagerness to count coup upon the small Amazon before any of her companions could beat her to it, She Bear had neither seen nor heard the arrow which prevented Late Comer from throwing the tanat. Coming much closer, the second missile had served to warn her in no uncertain fashion that somebody else was close by. Remembering there were no other members of her race in the vicinity equipped for archery, certainly not in the direction from which the arrow had come, she was equally cognizant of the fact that whoever was present must be an enemy.
Bounding away a pace with a surprising agility for one of her curvaceous yet far from sylph-like build, She Bear avoided the lightning fast swing from the sword in the hand of her hoped-for coup. While doing so, she noticed movements amongst the bushes beyond the little Amazon. First one, then a second and a third female figure emerged from their places of concealment. Apart from their attire, the like of which she had never seen before, they had the appearance of being members of the same race as the diminutive woman her party had been pursuing and were now trying to capture. They were also armed after the fashion peculiar to that all feminine, if rumour was correct, nation of competent warriors.
Relieved of the attentions from her first assailant and having seen the lance carrier struck down, Kit Fox was puzzled. Brief though the glimpse she had had of it was, she concluded from the style of eagle feather fletching and colour of the cresting an Amazon arrow was used to bring this about. Although she could not imagine how, thinking of the direction from which she had left them, she assumed it must have been discharged by a member of her hunting party. However, she was aware that her difficulties were still far from being at an end.
In spite of hearing the patter of rapidly approaching feet to her rear, the little Apex did not spare so much as a single glance to discover which of her companions—or other members of their race—was coming to her aid. Nor did it occur to her that somebody who did not belong to her nation was trying to save her. It would have been even more inconceivable for her to believe, had she known, that the newcomers were doing so with no ulterior motive. What few speculations she did have were driven away. The respite granted by the retreat of the Gruziak with the yataghan and shield did not continue for long enough to let her continue them.
Sharing the realization of She Bear that somebody was intervening and seeing, the three strangely attired women approaching, Catamount was too close to the Amazon to want to be cheated of her chance to count coup. Like the shinali—female fighting leader—of their war lodge, she wondered briefly who the newcomers might be. On the other hand, she too had no doubts where the motivation of their interference was concerned. Ever since birth, she had been taught to accept that every person who was not a Gruziak must be considered an enemy. Therefore, to her way of thinking, only one conclusion need be drawn. Either the intruders were Amazons wearing an unusual form of costume, or they belonged to a third race. In the latter case, they would share the wish to take the little woman captive and also hoped to count coup, if their nation followed that custom, upon her own party.
Instead of wasting time trying to decide which alternative might prove correct, Catamount launched a round-house swing with all the power of her attractively-contoured, buxom and hard muscled body behind it!
Seeing the war club coming her way, Kit Fox hardly had sufficient time to bring her shield into use. While she prevented the stone head of the weapon from striking her, the impact knocked her staggering and caused her to lose her grasp on the hilt of her sword. What was more, there was something far worse to come for her. Caught off balance by the blow, she tripped and sprawled on to the ground.
If it had not been for the timely arrival of the two women from Earth, things would have gone badly for the little Apex!
Bounding over the recumbent body of the diminutive Amazon, Beryl charged onwards. Behaving entirely as guided by her instincts, such a primitive form of fighting having been unknown to her prior to being transported to Zillikian, she positioned her shield so it smashed against the one which She Bear was holding in position to receive it. Such was the force of the impact, the slight weight advantage of the shinali notwithstanding, they rebounded involuntarily a few steps away from one another. What was more, each had to devote all her attention to retaining her balance and remain upright.
Always exceptionally fleet of foot, Cha had almost caught up with her cousin by the time they arrived at the scene of the conflict. Continuing to close in without any slackening of her pace, seeing Catamount about to follow up the attack on Kit Fox, she decided without consciously thinking of it what would be the most effective way to intercede. However, in her case, the selection was based upon earlier training rather than conditioning by the Supplier. Nevertheless, the tactics she elected to employ proved most efficacious.
Springing into the air with an almost balletic grace, instead of wielding the sword, the brunette executed a classic mae tobi geri—forward jump kick—learned during her instruction in karate. She performed it so swiftly that, despite having been taught to counter similar tactics, the Gruziak was taken unawares. The sole of her left sandal took Catamount on the right shoulder with a force which numbed it and sent the recipient staggering. However, while the female warrior was propelled in a spinning rush for some distance and caused to release the war club, she was sufficiently fortunate to retain something of her equilibrium and remain on her feet.
A quickly taken glance around warned Catamount that her assailant had already alighted from delivering the leaping kick and was ready to continue hostilities. However, from the way in which her right arm was dangling limply, added to having lost her war club as a result of the unanticipated attack, she knew the same did not apply to her. She guessed the limb was not broken, but realized it would be unable to function adequately for some time. What was more, despite having been taught to wield the tomahawk on her belt with the left hand almost as well as in the right, it would be at a serious disadvantage in length when compared with the sword held by her antagonist.
Accepting it would be folly to do otherwise and could even prove fatal if she should elect to remain in the fray under the circumstances, the young Gruziak turned to run back in the direction from which she had come.
Having seen what was happening, She Bear felt not the slightest annoyance or disapproval over the flight of her companion. Indeed, she considered it a tribute to the training she had given Catamount in her capacity of chieftainess and female fighting leader of the Cape Buffalo war lodge. To fight when partially incapacitated and there was a chance of escaping was, in her opinion, folly not courage. Therefore, the girl was adopting the wisest and most commendable course by withdrawing, under the circumstances.
If it came to a point, She Bear was contemplating a similar retirement from the field of such unsatisfactory combat.
No cowardess, the shinali was also far from a headstrong fool!
She Bear appreciated that, considering the way in which the situation had developed, discretion was the better part of valour.
Dry Runner was dead and Catamount already in sensible flight.
A glance over her shoulder told the shinali that, as was his primary duty in the prevailing conditions, Elk Bull was helping his wounded niece on to her horse. Doing so was not only to make her ready for a dash to safety. It was to ensure the girl would be mounted, if she should die of the injury, so could enter the Land Of Good Hunting in the saddle as befitted a Gruziak warrior. Furthermore, even after he had performed this mandatory task, the foreign women with the bow and arrows would be able to prevent him from coming to her assistance.
Conceding without shame that only death could result if she remained in contention against such competent fighting women, or at least—rather far worse from her point of view—the dishonour of capture, She Bear prepared to withdraw from the fight.
Displaying considerable agility, considering how stockily well-rounded a body she possessed, she made a sudden and twisting, leap calculated to carry her beyond the reach of the battle axe which, although not used as yet, was the main armament of the white-haired—but nowhere nearly as aged as a Gruziak would be with such hirsute colouration—foreigner. This weapon, being much longer than her yataghan, had been an important factor in her decision to retire. Her instincts as a warrior warned that, not matter to which nation the beautiful woman belonged, it could be wielded with considerable skill and, armed as she was, she would be at an unacceptable advantage. Therefore, on alighting from the evasive bound, she sprinted after her companions.
As soon as he had lifted Late Comer astride her horse and ensured she could remain on the saddle unsupported, Elk Bull had formed an accurate estimation of how the other female members of their party would respond to the way in which the intervention of the newcomers was developing. Finding he was correct, he was completely in favour of their behaviour. However, being determined not to leave behind such trophies, he gathered up the bow discarded by She Bear and retrieved the tanat belonging to the injured girl.
With them in his possession, he mounted the big skewbald stallion and turned around the shinali’s also uncut paint.
Swinging swiftly on to her saddle, in spite of her right arm still not being fully operative, Catamount reached with her good hand to the reins of Late Comer’s mount and set both animals into motion. Having returned the yataghan to its sheath while approaching, the shinali had no need to delay the departure of the party. Going astride the paint by means of a leapfrog bound over its rump, she accepted the bow from Elk Bull as she landed on the saddle. However, she did not offer to try to employ it as a weapon.
‘I’ll be back, White Hair!’ She Bear shouted, twisting around on the saddle and shaking, the bow defiantly. ‘Look to yourself the next time we meet!’
Having delivered the comment, the shinali set off after the other members of her group. Elk Bull was leading the horse previously ridden by the now dead Dry Runner and his niece clung to the pommel with her good hand, trying to avoid showing the pain she was suffering. It was not until her party was almost at the foot of the kopje that She Bear realized the redheaded woman from the bushes had not sent any more arrows at her party!
‘They’ re not following us,’ Catamount announced, glancing, over her shoulder as her skewbald gelding was carrying her across the savannah.
‘I didn’t think they would be, or even could,’ Elk answered. While his female companions had been embroiled in the fighting, taking advantage of the passive role he was plying after attending to his niece, he was able to make a more thorough examination of their surroundings than it was possible for them to do. ‘As far as I could see, they didn’t have any horses with them.’
‘May the Great Spirit damn them!’ Catamount spat out, remembering how she had looked back and found the intruders were converging upon the little woman she and her party had hoped to take captive. ‘They’ve got the Amazon!’
‘Why not?’ the shinali inquired, being of a more philosophical nature than her younger lodge sister. ‘That’s what we were trying to do.’
‘What annoys me is that it was us who drove her to then,’ Catamount protested, turning her gaze to make sure Late Comer was able to remain in the saddle of the fast moving horse. Satisfied this was the case for the time being, he went on, ‘I was sure we got the little bitch when she went up the kopje instead of staying out here on level ground. The way she was riding, she might have escaped us and them, if she stayed on the savannah.’
‘She might have thought she’d find some of her people up there and wanted to lead us to them,’ Elk Bull pointed out, also having been puzzled by the surprising change in the behaviour of the little Amazon during the chase. ‘Although, from the direction she started heading, when we first saw her, I wouldn’t have thought that was likely.’
‘Or me,’ She Bear said pensively. ‘We’ve not seen signs of there being any other human beings in the area.’
‘No, we hadn’t,’ Elk Bull agreed, his status in the band being anali—male fighting leader—of the Cape Buffalo war lodge. Looking at his female contemporary in a thoughtful fashion, he continued, ‘I wondered why you suggested we came out this way.’
--
‘I just bud a feeling we’d find something worthwhile in this direction,’ the shinali explained, ‘But don’t ask me why I should have had it.’
‘We did find something worthwhile, even though we couldn’t hang on to it,’ Elk Bull declared, sharing the philosophical nature of the woman and, regarding it as the fortunes of war, not blaming her for the injury sustained by his niece. ‘I wonder who those three were?’
‘They weren’t dressed like all the Amazons I’ve seen have been, although their weapons were much the same,’ She Bear assessed. ‘But they aren’t like any other people I’ve ever come across, either. We’ll stop in the first decent cover we find and attend to Late Comer’s wound. Then I think we should get her bade to the village.’
‘What about those three foreigners?’ Catamount demanded.
‘We don’t know how many more of them there might be around,’ the shinali pointed out. ‘And with an injured girl on our hands, we can’t wait around to see. But I intend to come back and find out who they are. That one with the white hair is a name-warrior and war leader, or I’ve never seen one. So, given the chance, I’m going to finish what I started. It will make a remembered fight and she’ll be a coup that’s real worth counting.’