Bunduki (Bunduki Series Book One) (21 page)

With friendly relations
established, the blond giant examined the
banar-gatah’s
furnishings. The saddle had a
low horn, double girths and wide, iron-bound wooden stirrups much
like a Texas range rig. There was a throwing spear in two loops
attached to the left side of its skirt, suggesting that its rider
mounted on that flank. The bridle was made so that, by unbuckling
the straps, the bit, snaffle and reins could be removed but the
head-stall—from which a coiled tether-rope was dangling—would
remain in place.

There was, Bunduki decided, something
strange about the three animals’ equipment. It was not the fact
that the Mun-Gatahs had stirrups. These had been invented in China
about 400 B.C. and were in widespread use throughout the known
world by 700 A.D. What puzzled him was the way in which the rigs
had been manufactured. While the gear on the other two zebras
suggested ownership by persons of a lower social standing, there
was a similarity between them that was rare in handmade products.
Obviously the Mun-Gatahs had very skilful craftsmen to produce such
good quality work. Yet it almost seemed that they had been using
modern machinery and techniques; but that was
impossible.

Turning his attention to the
white garment that was rolled and passed through two loops on the
cantle of the saddle, Bunduki drew it out. It had the smooth,
silky, shiny appearance of the wool, cotton, or acetate rayon
fabrics known as ‘sharkskin’. Opening it out, he found it to be a
kind of sleeveless over-tunic with a cowl for the head. Emblazoned
on its front was a remarkably well drawn and colored illustration
of a rearing, horse-like
animal. After a moment’s study, he decided that it
was supposed to be a quagga such as had been extinct for many
years. He was fascinated, not only by the portrayal of a long
deceased kind of creature but at the way the design was imprinted
on the material. The latter exceeded anything he had seen produced
by primitive people.

With his curiosity aroused, the
blond giant hung the garment over the
banar-gatah’s
saddle and picked up the
woman’s sword. He found it both interesting and puzzling. While the
metal of its blade could not compare with the Swedish high carbon
tool steel from which his Smithsonian bowie had been created, it
was a much better temper than he had expected. What was more, the
design and finish of the weapon suggested a high standard of
workmanship. So much so that it, like the garment and the zebras’
equipment, might have been produced by machines rather than hand.
Yet nothing he had seen about the Mun-Gatahs had implied that they
belonged to a race that was capable of designing, manufacturing or
even operating a piece of sophisticated modern machinery. It was,
of course, possible that they bought, looted or traded their
weapons from a more advanced nation.

Once more, the urgency of
Bunduki’s desire to find his adoptive cousin caused him to turn his
thoughts from a puzzling aspect. His handling of the
banar-gatah
had so far been
successful. Realizing that the same might not apply when he
attempted to ride it, he decided to take precautions against losing
them all. Dropping the sword and opening out the tether ropes of
the two
ocha-gatahs,
he fastened them to stout branches of the bushes.
With the spare animals secured and prevented from escaping, even if
the other should throw him and bolt, he took its reins and led it
into the clearing.

On his return, the blond giant
found Joar-Fane and the man kneeling facing each other and talking.
Suddenly,
the girl gave a gasp and turned her head in his
direction.

‘
Bunduki!
^,
Joar-Fane gasped.
‘At-Vee has met Dawn—’

‘
Where is she? the blond
giant demanded, striding forward.

‘
I
don’t know,’ At-Vee admitted, then explained the
circumstances of his meeting with, and separation from, Dawn. ‘I
heard the call of a “Hairy Woman”, then the sound of a rhinoceros
attacking and a scream—’

‘
Was
it Dawn?’ Bunduki growled.

‘
I don’t think
so,’ At-Vee replied.
‘It sounded like a man. But she hasn’t come back,
nor have I heard anything else until Joar-Fane called for
help.’

‘
Where did you hear the call
of the “Hairy Woman”?’ Bunduki inquired. ‘Which direction, I
mean.’

‘
There,’ At-Vee answered,
pointing to the west. ‘It was a long way off, but not in the
jungle.’

Looking in the direction
indicated by the hunter, Bunduki decided to try and make contact
with his adoptive cousin by the same means which he had employed
shortly after waking that morning. If she was in the vicinity, she
ought to be able to identify his voice. Provided she could do so,
she would respond and guide him to her. Without thinking to warn
his companions, he threw back his head and thundered out the
challenge roar of a bull
Mangani,

Startled exclamations burst
from Joar-Fane and At-Vee, but the effect of the awesome bellow was
even more marked in the reactions of the zebras. Letting out snorts
of alarm, they all began to rear. Before the
banar-gatah
could bolt, Bunduki sprang
forward and caught hold of its reins. He brought its wildly pawing
forelegs back to earth and hung on grimly, being determined not to
lose such a valuable means of transport. While doing so, he also
tried to listen for any answering call from Dawn. A bull
Mangani
replied from far
off in the jungle, but the sound he was hoping to hear did not
reach him.

Having brought the
banar-gatah
back under control
and looked around to make sure that the two
ocha-gatahs
had neither torn free from the
bushes nor injured themselves in their attempts to do so, the blond
giant turned to Joar-Fane and At-Vee.

‘
Did you hear anything?’
Bunduki asked.

‘
Only the “Hairy Man” in the
jungle,’ At-Vee answered, realizing what the big blond had been
trying to do. ‘Dawn hasn’t answered.’

‘
Perhaps she didn’t hear you, Bunduki,’ Joar-Fane suggested.
‘She might be too far away.’

‘
She might,’ the blond giant
agreed.

‘
Or they could
have captured her and won’t let her reply,’ At-Vee
offered.
‘I should never have let her

‘
From what I know about
Dawn, you couldn’t have stopped her once she’d made up her mind,’
Bunduki replied. ‘I’ll have to go and look for her.’

Even as the blond giant spoke, he
glanced at the rapidly darkening sky. Any search that he commenced
would be of short duration before the coming of night brought it to
a halt. So he decided that he would have to leave it until
daybreak. The decision did not come easily. While either of the
possibilities mentioned by his companions could explain Dawn’s
failure to respond to his call, there was another alternative. Much
as he hated the thought, his adoptive cousin could be
dead.

Sitting
astride the
grar-gatah
that had belonged to the
eagle’s attendant, with her wrists secured by a set of rawhide
hobbles—the metal swivel connecting link of which was fastened to
the saddle horn—and ankles tied to the stirrups, Dawn
Drummond-Clayton surveyed her surroundings with considerable
misgivings.

Leading their .captive’s mount by its
tether rope, Elidor rode along oozing pride and arrogance. She was
delighted by the interest her party’s arrival was causing as they
passed through the Mun-Gatahs’ hunting camp. Displaying an equal
satisfaction, Mador and the second male warrior rode one on either
side of their tawny-haired prisoner.

On returning to full
consciousness the previous afternoon, Dawn had become aware that
she was in a terrible predicament and had sought for a way out of
it. Only Mador had been with her when she had regained the use of
her faculties. However, although she had been ready to resist most
strenuously if he had attempted to take advantage of her hands
being bound behind her back, she had realized the futility of
trying to attack him. So she had not attempted to. Instead, she had
remained passive in the hope that she might lull him into a sense
of over-confidence thus offering her an opportunity to escape.
Before it could happen, Elidor and the second of the High Priest’s
male adherents had returned. They had been leading the
grar-gatah
and, after changing
Dawn’s bonds for the hobbles, the men had lifted her onto its
saddle and fastened her there. With that done, they had led her
back in the direction from which they had come.

At first, while awaiting
whatever might be in store for her, Dawn had been puzzled by the
absence of her original pair of pursuers. Noticing two patches of
freshly spilled blood on the ground, she guessed what had happened
but kept her thoughts to herself. That had been a wise decision.
Wanting to avoid having their lies exposed by the girl when they
reached the hunting camp, Elidor and Mador had removed the bodies
and their victims’ mounts before she had recovered. Then the woman
had
gone and
disposed of Charole’s third supporter while collecting the last
member of her party.

Although Dawn had had no
difficulty in sitting the
grar-gatah,
its gait being similar to that of an ordinary
riding horse, she had contrived to hide the fact from her captors.
By pretending to have no knowledge of equestrian matters, she had
managed to delay them and reduce the speed at which they were
travelling. Night had found them on the plains and they made camp
on the banks of a small stream.

While lifting Dawn from the saddle,
the men’s hands had wandered over her private parts. However,
neither had attempted to go any further than feeling her body.
Despite her relief at not having been sexually assaulted, she had
found the omission disturbing. To her way of thinking, it had
suggested she might be being reserved for some other
fate.

Dawn had heard and recognized
Bunduki’s challenge roar, but had known that to try and answer
would be inadvisable. If she had made the attempt, she would have
been quickly, and, in all probability, painfully silenced. So she
remained silent. She noticed how nervous the awesome bellow had
made the zebras, even though it had been a long way off.

Knowing that Bunduki was searching for
her had heartened Dawn. She had deduced that he might have been
guided by a similar subconscious impulse to that which had brought
her to the woodland. However, she had accepted that there was
little likelihood of him finding her that night. Even if he should
meet At-Vee and learn what had happened, he could not follow her
tracks in the dark.

At sunrise, after having spent
an uncomfortable night, Dawn had been given a meal of what she had
guessed was the Mun-Gatahs’ equivalent of
biltong.
Then she was placed on the
grar-gatah
and the journey was
resumed. She had continued with her delaying tactics and had
contrived to watch their back trail without making her interest in
it obvious to her captors. Unfortunately, she had seen nothing to
even suggest that Bunduki was following her tracks.

Shortly after noon, the party came
into sight of the Mun-Gatahs’ hunting camp. It was situated in the
bottom of a large hollow and on the banks of a lake. Studying the
way that the camp was laid out, Dawn had formed conclusions which
were aided by the various comments she had heard passed between her
captors. From what they had said, the nation was divided in its
loyalties between the man and woman whom she had seen and spoken
with at the edge of the chasm. Nor had there been any doubt as to
which faction the trio supported.

The camp had been set up in the form
of an open ended square. On the left and right sides, the tents
grew in size until the far ones were of the pavilion type. The
third side, which backed on to the lake, consisted of two more
large pavilions with several smaller tents between them and the
water. Watched over by youngsters wearing one piece white tunics,
the majority of the party’s zebras were grazing near the camp.
However, several mounts were standing saddled outside various
tents. Lances, with pennants flying, were thrust into the ground
alongside the animals. Few of the men wore breastplates and only
the woman showed any evidence of which factions they supported.
Those whose were adherents of the Protectress of the Quagga God
followed Charole’s style of footwear. The supporters of the High
Priest either wore greaves, or sandals of the slip-on
variety.

Darting a look towards the
pavilion on the left side, Elidor was disappointed to find that
Charole was not coming from it. She did not doubt that the
Protectress had been told of her arrival and she had been looking
forward to flaunting her success. Sniffing in mingled annoyance and
derision over Charole’s failure to appear,
the woman guided her captive to the
right and stopped alongside the High Priest’s quagga
stallion.