Bunduki (Bunduki Series Book One) (26 page)

‘
A
small
bag?’ Dryaka spat out and Dawn could see that he was deeply
perturbed. ‘What was in it?’

‘
Only some
black dust
,’ the man answered in an offhand fashion, meaning to go on
by explaining that he would not have bothered to come and interrupt
the High Priest except that Charole had appeared to be very excited
over the contents of the bag.

There was, however, nothing off-hand
about the way Dryaka responded on hearing the reply.

‘
The Thunder Powder!’ the
High Priest almost bellowed, springing to his feet and dropping the
Randall knife. Without bothering to retrieve the weapon, he dashed
towards his sleeping quarters, snarling, ‘If she’s got any of it,
I’ll have somebody’s life!’

~*~

‘
And just what
might
this
be?’ demanded Charole, staring disdainfully at the small
pile of black powder which the leader of the party who had captured
Bunduki was pouring on to her pavilions table.

‘
I
don’t know,’ Talgum answered, speaking thickly due to his
badly swollen mouth. Stopping the flow, he placed the bag alongside
the Smithsonian bowie knife on the table. For a moment, he stared
enviously at the weapon. Then, darting a hate-filled scowl at its
owner, he went on, ‘The woman said it was what Zongaffa was making
for Dryaka.

Lounging on the cushions which the
Protectress had placed near the table for him, with his wrists
linked together by a set of hobbles, but otherwise unfettered,
Bunduki studied the powder. He thought he recognized it. If he had,
it might enable him to escape.

On recovering consciousness, the blond
giant had been surprised to find that he had not received any more
serious injuries than the various bruises and abrasions gathered
during the fighting. He had soon discovered that he owed his
salvation to the influence of the beautiful, sensual, if disheveled
woman whose life he had saved. For all that, he had sensed there
was more than gratitude behind her protection.

Although Bunduki had been taken to a
nearby stream where his injuries were given the same treatment as
the warriors who had suffered at his hands, Charole had insisted
that they should delay rejoining their companions until after night
had fallen.

While they were waiting, Charole and
Talgum had questioned Bunduki about how he had come into possession
of the Mun-Gatah garments and zebras. Knowing that to refuse
supplying the information could have painful consequences, he had
invented a story of how he had been attacked by, and had killed,
three members of the People-Takers escort. Having identified the
animals as belonging to some of the High Priest’s adherents, his
interrogators had seemed more pleased than angry at what he had
told them.

The blond giant had discovered, by
listening to his captors, that his adoptive cousin was already a
prisoner of the Mun-Gutahs. From what had been said, he had deduced
that he was to be taken to the camp in which she was being held. It
had been that, even more than a realization of the futility of
trying to fight his way to freedom which had caused him to put
aside the notion of attempting to escape while he was still in the
hands of such a small party. He had wanted to be in a position
where he might be able to help Dawn before doing anything that
would cause his captors to increase the simple bonds of restraint
which secured him.

From the way Bunduki’s captors
had behaved as they were bringing him into their camp, he had
deduced that they wished to keep his presence a secret. On coming
into sight of their companions’ zebras, which were grazing and
resting at liberty but under the eyes of guards, the
banar-gatah
rider—although as
yet the blond giant had not learned the Mun-Gatahs’ social
distinctions—had gone ahead. Returning, he had warned that some of
the High Priest’s adherents were on duty watching over the herd. At
the Protectress’s orders, Bunduki had been made to dismount.
Escorted by Talgum and two of the
ocha-gatah
riders, he had been taken to the camp on
foot by a route which had kept them out of sight of the
guards.

Once Charole had the blond giant
safely delivered to her pavilion, she had left him in Talgum’s
charge while she made her preparations for trying to win him over.
Bathing in the sleeping portion of her pavilion, she had rejoined
the men clad in a very daring, diaphanous white gown. The way in
which it had clung to the magnificent contours of her gorgeous body
had shown that it and the high heeled pumps which had replaced her
sandals were her sole garments.

Over a meal, with a scowling and
obviously jealous Talgum as the other guest, the Protectress had
tried to learn .what had brought Bunduki to the Mun-Gatah country.
On being questioned about other members of his nation, he had been
careful not to reveal his true purpose. Charole had tried to find
out if he was searching for Dawn, but his replies had left her
convinced that he was not.

Dismissing the
banar-gatah
rider at the end of
the meal, the Protectress had produced Bunduki’s Smithsonian bowie
knife. Like Dryaka was doing with Dawn, she had tried to elicit
information regarding the means by which such exceptional weapons
had been procured. Unconsciously, Bunduki had adopted a similar
line to Dawn when explaining why he could not give details about
their ‘Suppliers’. He had also left his questioner with a profound
impression of the strength, sagacity and numbers of the “Apes’’
nation.

Having decided that such efficient and
capable warriors would make very useful allies, and believing that
her captive was a very important leader of the ‘Apes’, Charole had
been even more determined to gain his support. She had used all her
wiles and the full sensual attraction of her voluptuous body to
achieve her ends. Applying the same kind of love-making techniques
to which Bunduki was accustomed, she had been much more successful
than Joar-Fane at learning his potential in that line.

Accepting that he might be able to use
the woman of a means of attaining freedom for Dawn and himself,
Bunduki had yielded to her seduction. The male Counters had always
been noted for their lusty and prodigious prowess as makers of love
and he had inherited the quality in full measure. So, even though
his wrists were held by the hobbles, he had contrived to satisfy
Charole’s passions in a way that no other man had come close to
doing;

Unfortunately, there had been an
interruption before the blond giant could persuade the panting and
submissive Charole to remove his bonds on the grounds that he would
be able to do even better. Entering and apparently taking no notice
of the sight of her mistress sprawling all but naked on the floor
alongside the prisoner, one of the serving women had said that
Talgum was outside and wished to speak with the Protectress. At
first, Charole had been on the point of telling her maid to say she
must wait. However, on learning that he was accompanied by the
woman who was spying on Dryaka, the Protectress had changed her
mind.

By the time Talgum had been
granted permission to enter, in addition to replacing the blond
giant’s loincloth, Charole had dressed herself and tidied up her
appearance. For all that, it had been clear the
banar-gatah
rider was aware of what had
passed between them and disapproved of it.

‘
What do you
think you’re doing?’ Talgum demanded
suspiciously, reaching for his
sword as Bunduki knelt up and bent his torso towards the
table.

Apparently ignoring the question, but
keeping his eye on the warrior, the blond giant held his hands out
on the side furthest from the great bowie knife. Keeping them
there, he leaned closer to the small pile of gritty black powder
and sniffed at it. Despite the heavy aroma of Charole’s perfume, a
familiar smell came to his nostrils.

Taking her eyes from Bunduki at the
evidence of his good intentions, Charole gave a sharp and
prohibitive shake of her head to Talgum. In the course of her
successful seduction, she had talked of her desire to form an
alliance with the blond giant and he had appeared to be fully
favorable to it. She did not want anything to happen that might
antagonize him against her and cause him to change his mind. So she
kept her eyes on the warrior until, showing his annoyance, he
thrust the half drawn sword back into its sheath.

‘
What
are you doing, Bunduki?’ Charole inquired, returning her gaze to
the blond giant after having enforced her will on her supporter.
‘Do you know what it
is?

‘
I’m
not sure,’ Bunduki answered, keeping his voice flat and
emotionless. He hardly dared hope that his nose was not playing a
trick upon him. Taking an even closer sniff, he felt a tingle of
excitement as once again the odor of saltpeter mixed with sulphur
and charcoal reached his olfactory organ. Still employing an even,
almost disinterested tone, he straightened up and went on, ‘But I
think I might.’

‘
What
is it?’ the Protectress asked, hardly able to conceal her
eagerness.

‘
I
can’t be certain,’ the blond giant admitted. ‘Can I touch
it without your man cutting my hand off?’

‘
You
can,’ Charole authorized, throwing another glare at
Talgum.

Having been granted permission,
Bunduki raised his hands. He wet the tip of his right forefinger
and touched
it lightly on the heap of powder. Tasting the grains which
had adhered to it, he knew that he was correct. Seething with
excitement, he made a wry face and spat. Then he rubbed his tongue
vigorously on the back of his left hand.

‘
What
is
it?’ Charole repeated and even Talgum looked impressed by
the vehemence of the blond giant’s reaction.

‘
I
think it could be a deadly poison that the witch doctors of
my people use,’ Bunduki answered and could see that his audience
understood his meaning. ‘There’s one way to make certain. Put a
lamp on the table.’

‘
Why?’ Talgum challenged,
but Charole was already going to obey.

‘
What do you want it for,
Bunduki?’ the Protectress inquired, having taken down a lamp and
set it on the table.

‘
To test the
powder
,’ the blond giant replied and reached for the
bag.

‘
Here!’ Talgum growled,
stepping forward. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘
Go ahead,’ Bunduki sneered,
knowing that such an attitude would probably bring about the result
he required. ‘If you know what to do.’

‘
Tell me and I’ll do it,’
the warrior suggested, snatching up the bag as the big blond had
expected he would.

‘
Tip the powder over the
flame,’ Bunduki instructed and, when Talgum hesitated, went on in a
mocking voice, ‘Let me do it, if you’re afraid.’

Giving an angry snort, the warrior
up-ended the bag and a stream of black powder flooded from its
mouth to fall towards the naked flame of the lamp.

Long
before the birth of Christ,
philosophers in Cathay—as China was then known—had learned that
most spectacular and entertaining results could be produced from a
mixture comprised of 41.2% saltpeter and 29.4% each of charcoal and
sulphur.
^xli

Although Zongaffa had never
heard of Cathay, China, its philosophers, or Roger Bacon,
q.v.,
he had in some way
contrived to duplicate their discovery. However, like them, the
aged Mun-Gatah herbalist had failed to appreciate the full
potential of the resultant powder.

Having identified the
‘black dust’ for
what it was, Bunduki had been fully aware of its properties.
Guessing that the other occupants of the pavilion tent were less
well informed, he had paved the way for turning his superior
knowledge to his and, he hoped, his adoptive cousin s
advantage.

In addition to stepping away and
allowing Talgum to start pouring the black powder from the cloth
bag, the blond giant turned with his back to the table and closed
his eyes. Being aware that breathing the atmosphere was going to be
unpleasant in a short time, he also filled his lungs with air. So
as to be ready if his plan should succeed, he pressed his elbows
against his ribs and bent his forearms parallel to the well-padded
floor of the pavilion.

Already suspicious of Bunduki’s
motives, Talgum noticed how he was acting. Suddenly, the
banar-gatah
rider sensed that
he might be falling into a trap. Perhaps what he was doing could be
very dangerous.

The realization came just a
split-second too late!

Even as Talgum tried to stop the flow
of powder, the first of the trickling grains reached the burning
wick of the lamp. In the light of what happened, he could consider
himself fortunate that the bag he was holding was not made of
something stronger than cloth.