Where she attacked Bakwaniri warriors throwing water on the blaze.
Harkon killed two men. With her spear tip she slashed deep strokes in the backs of their necks, as she cast about for the sound of children.
Three of the closest buildings still smoldered and sparked, and one of them had started to burn anew. All of these huts and the others attached would be destroyed for they shared a center wall of stone blocks.
A masked warrior ran at Harkon with a spear, but the huntress lunged in to redirect its tip with her arm, and take him through the eye with her own.
And a great thump caused the ground to tremble at her feet!
Harkon swung about as the sound and vibration came again—and again—and something in her welled up urgently, and in thrumming desperation she cried “Anim!” as the central stone wall cracked, as blocks exploded outward, as a hard white fist broke through from the other side.
Another terrific blow and the wall collapsed as the ape-man Gazda leapt from the smoking ruins with two children under one arm, and a third over his muscled shoulder.
Harkon surged past him to stab a man in the groin, then blinded still another to cover her friend’s retreat.
The huntress ran after Gazda as flames leapt up from the new destruction and the Bakwaniri wailed at the death falling around them.
Gazda sprinted past the gate with the infants and leapt over the flowing water to land on the far side. The other night ape friends were running up the path ahead, a slight incline, but he could easily catch them.
Harkon followed slowly, gasping, falling to her knees and weeping at the river’s edge for she could see the third child in Gazda’s grasp was her own.
Anim’s eyes were older now, but unmistakable, watching his mother from the ape-man’s embrace.
Gazda pushed the children into Harkon’s arms, and said that he would follow.
With tears running, the huntress staggered up the path, chasing the children before her as the ape-man awaited any threat at the rear.
CHAPTER 36 – Nothing but Revenge
Lightning split the heavens, and a great report of thunder shattered the night. As the battle raged, the sky had gone heavy and gray-black over the river and trail as the cloud cover thickened. Another blast and flash from above, and rain poured down on the fugitives; its initial invigorating effects were soon overborne by the sheer ferocity of the pounding they received.
Harkon had taken the lead with her people and freed slaves while the castaways toiled some distance behind. Struggling against their exhaustion and the onslaught, they staggered west along the muddy jungle track.
The great forest towered to either side and its arching branches soon closed out the worst of the rain. The deluge exploded against the canopy high above and its remnants cascaded earthward in waves of heavy mist and fat droplets.
“The savages made this trail so we will not get far upon it! Whether we are exhausted or not we must make our own. When the rain extinguishes the fires, they will follow,” Van Resen said staggering beside the ranger. “And if for some reason they do not, the yurt is still a great distance and predators lie in wait upon the jungle passes—I am at a loss...”
Captain Seward paced along, holding the unconscious governess in his arms. He’d been worried despite his weariness, watching the cool rain wash the blood from her pale face as the lightning flickered above.
He hoisted the woman and pressed her cheek to his. “She’s freezing, Doc,”
“Cold?” Van Resen grunted, closing with Seward in the dark. His trembling hands slid over the governess’ face and neck, and then slipped beneath the collar of her blouse.
“What is it?” the old ranger asked, as the scientist worked blindly.
“I feel no wounds here, thank God. Thank God! She must hold,” the scientist said, as he hurried forward again, casting nervous glances back the way they’d come. All of the freed slaves had salvaged a weapon during the fight, but of the castaways only the scientist and the ranger had taken knives from the dead.
“That warrior woman is no small blessing,” Seward said, lifting his head to peer through the downpour. She walked some distance ahead. “God, I’d like to have had a troop of gals like her!”
They had barely managed a quarter mile before drums began to roll behind them, and little farther when arrows hurtled in from the rear.
Gazda sprinted out of the murk, appearing suddenly from the constant falling mist like a ghost; the cold rain had washed the mud and blood from his pale skin.
The wild man fell into a lurching half-crouched walk beside the ranger, while reaching out with a muddy hand to touch Miss James’ clammy forehead where it rested in the crook of the big man’s arm.
He hooted worriedly, and then barked coarsely, his eyes blazing up like flame as he tried to pull the governess from Seward’s grasp. The big Texan growled, and tried to heave away but on the slippery footing the pair of them went down, and in the jumble Van Resen lost his balance and dropped at Miss James’ side.
“Go on! I’ve got her...” Seward warned the wild man, but it was clear that Gazda meant no harm. He pressed his scarlet lips to the governess’ cold face, and sniffed at the clotting blood in her sodden hair.
The rest of the group had continued on ahead with Harkon in the lead. She carried her son upon her back, while the others followed close behind. Mrs. Quarrie had returned to consciousness and insisted on stumbling along under her own steam for a time. Her husband and Jacob Raines shepherded her to either side and kept the woman near the gathering of freed slaves.
Mrs. Quarrie had several times asked for Lilly, but had finally refused her husband’s answer when he tried to make it, for the truth
