Email:
Lespion@msn.com
Larra cursed vehemently, using most unladylike
language. She kept it up for
almost a minute, and then stopped
ashamedly. That sort of outburst
wasnt going to get her anywhere.
She looked about her indecisively.
What should she do?
Following her fleeing expedition back the way they had come was an
option, but not a good one. All
of the safaris equipment was strewn on the
ground. Tents, food, ammunition,
instruments, everything. It
didnt seem to make a hell of a lot of sense just to abandon
it. On the other hand, she could
not carry all of it herself.
Perhaps she was going to have to put together a survival pack and
head back. God, this was so
humiliating! She had been laughed
at back in
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden return of Nancy, her
maidservant. Bad men Missy
Larra, the girl cried.
Bad Men!
Larra detected a stealthy movement at the edge of the
clearing. She turned
slowly. Was there something
there? Slowly, she edged toward
her rifle. Before she could reach
it, however, a tall black warrior emerged from the
forest. Laura
froze. Before here stood an
impressive figure. He was at
least six and a half feet tall, with very broad shoulders and powerful
arms. In his right hand he held
a seven-foot spear tipped with a razor-edged spearpoint a foot
long. On his left arm he carried
a five-foot eye-shaped buffalo hide
shield. On his head he wore two
plumes of ostrich feathers. Almost instinctively Larras right hand
moved toward her Browning .45, but she stayed her
hand. She had no way of knowing
whether the warrior was friendly or
hostile. In spite of her vulnerable
position she could not bring herself to fire on a man who had shown no overtly
hostile intent.
Suddenly, her peripheral vision detected another movement to her
left. She turned her head and
was startled to see a dozen more tall, black warriors step into the
clearing.
Keep calm, Larra, she told
herself. Keep
calm. She now realized
just how poor her decision was. She
would have felt much more comfortable with the Browning in her hand, but
it was too late. There was movement
all around her. From every side
warriors emerged. Larra quickly
realized that the sheer number of armed men meant instant death for her if
she resisted. She stood quite
calm and still, her arms at her side, but a dread cold filled her gut, causing
her to shiver in spite of the forests oppressive
heat.
Suddenly one of the warriors leaped in front of
Larra. His face was twisted into
a hideous snarl. Dancing and
screaming before her he dashed at her with his spear, thrusting it at her
breast, only to stop just short and then pull back and repeat the
performance. Larra willed herself
not to move. Instinctively, she
knew that her life depended upon it.
Abruptly, the warriors frightening dance stopped as suddenly
as it had begun. A huge man,
several inches taller than any of the others, had interposed himself between
Larra and her tormentor. He looked
at her calmly and spoke to her in a language she did not
understand. Uncomprehending,
Larra shook her head. The man
shrugged his massive shoulders and stepped to within two feet of
her. Larra did not
move. The man glared fiercely
into her face and Larra returned his stare
calmly. Then quite deliberately
the warrior reached out and unclipped her gunbelt, removing the .45 and its
holster from around her waist. He
gave a sharp command and two warriors rushed forward and pulled her young
maidservant way from her legs.
The young girl screamed, but suddenly shut up after a barked command
from the tall warrior. The two
warriors who had seized her tied a length of rope around her neck and led
her off into the forest. The
tall warrior turned back to Larra.
He grunted some sort of command and gestured in the direction that
the warriors were leading her
maidservant. With relief Larra
realized that she was not to be tied.
Either she was considered unlikely to run away or there was something
about her that forbade such an indignity.
The warriors moved in before her and behind her as she
walked. They were so close that
escape seemed like only a remote chance.
Before her the seemingly random direction the warriors had taken turned
out to be a well-marked trail.
Larras party had marched right past it.
Larra marched down the path, following her
escorts. As they moved along
the party began to become more separated, but they were still too close to
chance a run for it. Such a large
number of men pursuing her through the dense forest would be bound to run
her down in only a few seconds.
Still, she kept alert and constantly gazed about
her. Perhaps somewhere along
the trail she would have an opportunity to escape.
Larra and her guards moved off steadily through
the dense forest. The black warriors
set a rapid pace and Larra found herself struggling to keep
up.
Ridiculous! she thought as she
gasped for breath. Im
in the middle of a rainforest and I cant get any
water.
She tried to slow down, but felt a sharp pressure
in her back. The warrior behind
her was pressing the point of his spear into
her. A not so subtle hint that
slowing down would not be accepted.
Larra began to breathe
hard. Her body was drenched in
perspiration and sweat poured off her forehead into her
eyes. Blinded by her own sweat,
she stumbled down the path, her breath coming in
gasps. Black spots started to
dance in front of her eyes. She
was beginning to black out.
And then, quite abruptly, they
stopped. Before her roared a
torrent of water. A powerful
stream surged across the path.
Larra had been too dazed to hear
it. She flung herself flat beside
it and immersed her head in the cool
river. She drank deeply, and
then splashed her body with water.
Her warrior escort was doing the
same. She realized that despite
their seeming toughness the warriors too had been in need of
water. She removed her jacket
and laid it beside her. Almost
immediately one of the warriors picked it
up. He seemed amused by it and
studied it closely. He handed
it to the warrior next to him who in turn passed it on to the
next. It was apparent to Larra
that he jacket was probably lost.
That was too bad, because although the heat of the day was almost
stifling, she had found that at night the temperature cooled off
considerably.
The warriors appeared ready to
leave. The one dragging
PREVIOUS
CHAPTER WIZARD'S
LAIR MAIN PAGE
L'ESPION'S
STORY PAGE
NEXT
CHAPTER