Bunduki (Bunduki Series Book One) (5 page)

The man on the woman’s left was tall,
middle-aged and well built. Covering his skull, so that only his
hard, cruel face was exposed, his metal helmet was embossed on each
side with a zebra’s head. It was topped by a crest that might have
come from the mane of his mount. His swarthy features had harsh
lines, and a long, drooping moustache did little to soften the
cruel set of his thin lips. He had on a breast-plate of polished
leather carved ornately with some kind of design, over what
appeared to be a white silk shirt. The kilt he was wearing looked
as though it was made of leather. Greaves of that material, etched
decoratively, protected his shins and he had sandals on his feet.
The sword sheathed on the left side of his belt, which was formed
from all gold discs, was of the same design as the woman’s, but
heavier and longer. Grasped at its point of balance, the butt of a
nine foot long lance was resting in the cup attached for that
purpose to his right side stirrup.

Although dressed in much the same way
as the tall man, the second male rider was middle-sized, stocky and
obviously of a lower social status. No crest adorned his helmet,
nor was there any engraving on his breastplate and greaves. The
sword he was carrying had a plain wooden hilt and was his only
weapon.

Not only the man’s dress and mount
suggested that he was of a subordinate rank, his behavior proved
it. Although his companions had halted and were staring across- the
chasm, he directed only the briefest glance at Dawn. Then he reined
his zebra—she had decided to give the animals such a title—around
in a half circle and stopped it within reaching distance of the
woman’s right hand.

The girl had no need to ponder
over the second man’s actions. A wooden framework was attached to
the cantle of his saddle, which—like those of his companions,
although theirs were of a better quality—resembled a low homed,
double girthed
^xviii
Texas range rig, extending to
rest on the zebra’s rump. On the crossbar, with its head covered by
a finely decorated leather hood that was designed to display its
prominent crest of feathers, perched an enormous bird of prey. Its
great size, body’s shape, mottled grey upper surfaces, black chest,
white under-parts, shortish, powerful, very deep but comparatively
narrow curved beak, thick legs and massive claws told her that it
was a harpy eagle of some kind.

Ignoring the third member of their
party and the bird, the woman and the taller man were subjecting
Dawn to mutually long examinations. Then they exchanged glances,
each nodding as if they had reached some unspoken agreement. Having
done so, the man returned his gaze to the girl, raking her from
head to foot. There was lust and worse in his scrutiny. Then he
stiffened slightly and swung his eyes to look north on her side of
the chasm.

Before Dawn could turn her head
in that direction, more riders came into sight on the rim. Two
women and four men, clad, armed and mounted in a similar manner to
her examiners, but in a slightly less opulent fashion. The women,
both beautiful and shapely, had on garments of silver lame. While
the taller of the women, and all the men, wore greaves, the second
woman copied, in
silver, the gold-clad beauty’s taste in footwear. The
animals they were sitting looked like the larger Grevy’s species of
zebra; having numerous narrow black stripes, but no gridiron
pattern of transverse bars on the hind quarters that identified the
Grant’s variety.

Studying the newcomers, Dawn was
relieved to see that none of them carried bows and arrows. They all
appeared to be interested in her, but did not offer to ride any
closer. Instead, they began to talk quietly amongst themselves.
Then the woman without the greaves rose on her stirrups. Shielding
her eyes with her right hand, she stared in a more noticeable
fashion than the tall man had done across the chasm and to the
north.

‘
Who
are you?’ called the man, bringing his attention back to the
girl.

The words served to jolt Dawn’s
thoughts away from the manner in which the shorter of the women on
the rim was acting.

They had been spoken in
English!

Or had they?

Dawn sensed that her brain had been
translating the man’s question automatically, as it did when she
was using one of the foreign languages with which she was
acquainted.

‘
My name is “Dawn”,’ the
girl found herself answering and guessed that, no matter what
language she was using, the people across the chasm could
understand her.

That was, Dawn decided, pretty
conclusive proof of her theory’s validity.

‘
Are you alone?’ demanded
the black-haired woman, in a husky contralto voice that contrived
to be domineering as well as sultry, scanning the terrain around
Dawn.

‘
My cousin—and many of our
warriors—are close by,’ the girl bluffed, wishing she had avoided
the slight hesitation while increasing the size of hers and
Bunduki’s party. ‘If I call for them, they will come
quickly.’

‘
To which nation do you
belong?’ the man inquired, continuing to dart glances at the north
as if expecting to see something in that direction. ‘You don’t
dress like an Amazon and you’re not a Gruziak, or a
Telonga.’

Although Dawn knew that the original
Amazons had been a nation of female warriors in Ancient Greece, she
had never heard of peoples called the Gruziak or the
Telonga.

‘
I belong to the people of
Tarzan of the Apes,’ the girl replied, hoping to obtain some clue
as to where she was.

In the course of an
exceptionally eventful life, Lord # Greystoke had travelled
extensively and had been in contact with several strange,
previously undiscovered races.
^xix
Perhaps he had come across the people
to whom her interrogators belonged, although she could not
recollect him ever having mentioned them.

‘
And who,
or
what
might this Tarzan of the—Apes—be?’ the woman asked
haughtily, fumbling with the word “Apes” as if it was not
familiar.

Once again, Dawn decided not to
tell the exact truth. It would take too long to tell the full story
and describe her exact relationship with Lord and Lady Greystoke.
In fact, the latter might be beyond her audience’s comprehension.
With their parents dead, Captain Hugh ‘Bulldog’ Drummond
^xx
had not been able to raise or care
for his younger brother, John, in an adequate manner. So his second
cousin, Lord Greystoke,
^xxi
had adopted the youngster as his son
and given him the name Drummond-Clayton.
^xxii

However, Dawn doubted whether
the couple would appreciate such a relationship as an adoptive
great-granddaughter. That would be particularly so if the woman was
only pretending to be ignorant of Tarzan’s identity and had
actually met him. Few people knew about the Kavurus’ longevity
pills that had come into his possession and had been shared amongst
his family.
^xxiii
These tablets had halted the
aging processes of the human body and had granted the
recipients—barring accidental death, suicide or murder—what
amounted to immortality. To avoid arousing unwanted interest, due
to the fact that they all appeared to be in their late twenties and
showed no signs of getting older, the family had resorted to
make-up when receiving visits by any but very close and trusted
friends or when travelling. Dawn had often thought, not without
amusement, that her mother, grandmother and Lady Greystoke must be
almost the only women in the world who deliberately sought to make
themselves look older.

‘
He is my father and the
chief of all our people,’ Dawn answered, having decided that such a
relationship—the latter part of which was true—might be more
acceptable and suitably impressive. ‘He and all my people are great
warriors and mighty archers.’

As the girl said the final words, she
gestured with the bow to emphasize their meaning. None of the
riders were armed in such a fashion and she did not know if they
would understand the term. However, having had his attention drawn
to it, the tall man was staring at the powerful weapon and
displaying great interest. Clearly he knew what it was, but now
realized that it differed from any other bow that he had seen.
That, Dawn told herself, was not surprising.

‘
Are
you
also a great warrior?’ the woman challenged.

‘
If I need to be,’ Dawn
answered, her feminine feelings bristling with annoyance at the
other’s attitude.

Raising his eyes from the bow, the
tall man subjected Dawn to another scrutiny. She noticed the
difference in his behavior. It seemed that he was no longer
primarily interested in her physical attractions, but was sizing
her up in the light of her statement.

‘
Why don’t you call for your
cousin and his warriors to join you?’ he finally suggested,
twisting his features into what he probably imagined was a friendly
smile. If you come upstream, there is a place where we can cross
and make friends.’

On hearing the girl’s response to her
question, the woman had snapped her gaze to the tall man and was
studying him in a calculating, almost suspicious seeming, fashion.
Then she stared back at Dawn, but in a less mocking and more
hostile manner.

‘
Yes, why
don’t you?’ the gold-clad beauty went on, but there was neither
friendship nor a welcome in her voice. ‘We have had a successful
hunt and there is more than enough meat for you, your cousin—and
all his
many
warriors.’

There was something in the
contralto tones that warned Dawn that her bluff had failed and the
speaker realized she was alone. No matter how genuine the man’s
invitation might have been, the woman did not duplicate it. For
some reason, she had turned from being mocking
and derisive into a bitter
enemy. Apparently she had detected some motive of which she did not
approve in the man’s change of attitude towards the
girl.

In addition to carrying on the
conversation, Dawn had been keeping the second party of riders
under observation. They were, in her opinion, still paying too much
attention to the north of her position. It was as if, like the tall
man, they were expecting to see something in that
direction.

Or
somebody
!

Suddenly, the smaller of the women in
the silver garments pointed in an excited manner. Looking in the
direction she was indicating, Dawn realized that the couple had
been holding her attention deliberately. They had hoped to prevent
her noticing a pair of riders who had topped a ridge about half a
mile away. Mounted on zebras, the two men were dressed in the same
way as the eagle’s attendant and were armed with lances. Even as
the girl located them, they urged their mounts forward at a faster
pace.

All too well Dawn realized what the
riders’ presence on her side of the river meant. Her every instinct
gave warning that it would be unwise to fall into their hands. Up
to that moment, she had believed that she had nothing to fear from
the zebra-riding people. None of them were carrying bows and the
distance was too great for a lance, even if it had been designed
for throwing, to be of any serious danger. She could have watched
its flight and dodged it.

The approaching pair had changed the
situation drastically. They were on Dawn’s side of the chasm and
would travel much faster than she could on foot. For all that, she
intended to try and reach the woodland. If their mounts were
anything to go by, the people were plains’ dwellers and, once among
the trees, she would have an advantage over them.

With that in mind, Dawn swung
on her heel and
started to run. She was still carrying the bow with an
arrow nocked to the string. To have removed and returned it to the
quiver on her back would have taken seconds which might prove vital
to her escape. So she accepted the awkwardness of running with it
in a position of readiness.

Letting out a furious exclamation, the
tall man signaled for the riders to move faster. With her beautiful
features twisted into lines of savage satisfaction, the woman by
his side let the one-piece reins fall on to her mount’s neck.
Reaching out with her right hand, she plucked the hood from the
head of the harpy eagle.

‘
Gaze-ho!’ she
snapped.

Hearing the familiar command,
following the removal of the hood which had acted as a blindfold,
the enormous bird crouched on its perch. Its powerful body was
quivering with eagerness and its head swung until the cruel red
eyes were attracted by Dawn s fleeing figure.

‘
What are you
do
—?’
the tall man began, twisting on his saddle to glare at his female
companion. Seeing what she was doing, he continued hastily, ‘No! I
want her ali—!’

‘
Kill!’ ordered the woman,
ignoring the protest.

Concentrating on the ground over which
she was speeding, so .as to avoid stepping into a hole or on a
stone that might turn under her foot and cause her to stumble, Dawn
suddenly became aware of the danger that was approaching. It was
coming from a source much closer than the two riders who were
galloping in her direction. She heard the swishing of heavy wings
and knew instantly what the sound portended.