He knew that to order the attack would be to break forever the peace that he and Zuruk had built between the two tribes. Once broken, red war would flare out between their nations again, and this time the peace would be all but impossible to rebuild.
Now the decision was taken from him. Within moments he must order the attack or stand by with idle hands while his only child and her gallant young champion were slain. That would require a degree of statesmanship even Jugrid did not possess.
He raised his hand, futility in his heart.
The control over events had passed from him. It would be jungle war, whether he wished it or not. And besides, Tomar had struck down Charak, and slain Ugar.
In effect, the war had already begun. At least, first blood had been taken and shed. Nothing he could do now could alter that fact.
He felt the bitterness of despair. But his child was in danger, and there was nothing more to be done.
He dropped his hand and the first wave of arrows fell among the forefront of the enemy warriors and cut them down.
Chapter 18
ATTACK BY NIGHT
CHARAK, as it happened, was not exactly in the forefront of the warriors who were upon the very heels of the fleeing boy and girl, and thus it was that when the first arrows fell amongst them in a deadly rain, the sub-chief was spared. But the four men who had crossed the river in the vanguard, and who fell to the barbed shafts, were among the loudest and most devoted of his supporters.
The remainder of the force was caught in midstream when their comrades fell. They paused as if to think things over, but by then it was too late. Bows in hand, arrows nocked at the ready, Thadron and Jugrid and the other huntsmen appeared, melting from the underbrush at the jungle’s edge. They held the attackers at bay while friendly hands helped the boy and girl scramble to safety.
Then Jugrid flung his arm aloft and called out in a mighty voice, bidding his warriors stay their hands. Charak’s men slunk back out of the water, spitting curses, gaining the far bank where their leaders stood glowering beside the calm-faced Zuruk. It was a stalemate, and for a long moment war hung in the air.
“Is it war you would force upon us, O Jugrid, that you come thus armed into the River Country, visiting death from ambush upon my warriors?” demanded Zuruk sternly.
Jugrid shook his head.
“Not I, Great Chief, my brother, but you would break the peace,” he replied in firm and level tones.
“Why else did the warriors of your party seize and carry off a helpless captive this child of mine, your own granddaughter?”
Zuruk gasped and his eyes widened.
“It it Ylana, then, the daughter of Narda, mine own daughter? Alas, I knew her not, neither did I ex. change words with her…”
Jugrid’s stern gaze and grim and unrelenting expression did not change. “For what reason was she made captive?” he demanded. “Does one young girl alone in the jungle comprise a menace to the safety of the River People? Or do they now make war upon children, when they find them strayed far from the safety of their kind?”
Zuruk turned his gaze full upon Charak, who flushed guiltily, wishing himself elsewhere with all the fervor of his heart.
“Charak, it was you who claimed to have found the girl `skulking’ in the jungle and spying upon our village. Speak now, before all, and let your words be words of truth, for we have had a bellyful of lies and deceptions. Speak, I command you!”
Charak opened his mouth, furious at this debacle, cudgeling his wits for some way out of this dilemma. But before the surly chieftain could think of anything to say, Ylana stepped forward, hand in hand with Tomar.
“Zuruk my grandsire, father of my mother, I did not `skulk’ in the jungle, but was fleeing from danger, hoping to reach your village and the safety it might afford me, when this black-bearded villain took me prisoner. He did not find it an easy task, for I slew more than one of his henchmen when they sought to seize me. Is this a taste of the hospitality my mother’s people offer to her only child?”
And in clear, ringing voice the jungle Maid described every detail of her pursuit and captivity while Zuruk grew ever more stern of mien and more wrathful of heart, and Charak ever more furious and afraid.
When she was done speaking, even the most warlike of Charak’s faction, and those most partial to his cause, had edged away from his proximity, some with open contempt written upon their features, and others less obtrusively, but no less positively.
“Now give judgement, O Zuruk my brother, upon your warriors and my own, and let us hear from your own lips who has given the greater offense in this: your men, who did all that has been described here, or my own? Who are the guilty ones―the girl Ylana, who sought safety among your people, and was taken prisoner and cruelly used? The boy Tomar, who crept alone into your camp to free her, and fought only to protect his life and her own? My bowmen here, who struck only to protect these children in their flight? Speak your judgement, O Chief of the River People!”
Zuruk turned to look into the eyes of his warriors. In their eyes he read a judgement that coincided with his own, aye, even in the eyes of Charak’s supporters.
“My judgement is this, O Jugrid my son,” the old chief said slowly, “and it is with a heavy heart that I speak it. For it is my own people who have been at fault in this matter, and they alone who have given provocation. Charak, the ringleader, who seized the girl Ylana in full knowledge of her identity, could only have done so in hopes of causing war between our tribes. He is guilty of an act of treason against the peace that has long existed between us, and that has gone unbroken until this night. Guilty he is, as well, of disobedience to my orders, and of acts contrary to my oft stated will. The punishment for treason and disobedience is death. Will that satisfy the honor of the Chief of the Cave Country, or shall I make reparations in payment to my granddaughter for her suffering and the mistreatments she has endured at the hands of the traitor, Charak?”
“Enough lives have been spent already, I think, that no further deaths should follow upon this unhappy sequence of events,” replied Jugrid warmly, “but I will leave the punishment of Charak to your own decision. As for myself, I am satisfied. But I cannot speak on the behalf of the Cave People, for another has taken the chieftaincy from me, and I am but the leader of these men you see who stand here shoulder to shoulder with me. As for the discomforts my daughter has suffered at the hands of your people, she has, I trust, endured them with the stoicism and courage that is to be expected from one who is the daughter of the daughter of the mighty Zuruk, and has taken no great or lasting hurt therefrom. Any reparations you would bestow I desire to be given out to the widows or the orphans of those men whom my archers struck down. I have spoken.”
WITH the restoration of peace, all tensions relaxed and men of the two tribes exchanged tentative greetings. Zuruk commanded that Charak be bound and imprisoned in an unused but under guard, whereupon he invited Jugrid and his party to cross the river and to partake of the hospitality of the River People. This was done, and erelong Zuruk clasped his granddaughter to his breast and kissed her lovingly, exchanging the handclasp of peace with Jugrid and Thadron and young Tomar.