Read Online Savage Lands by Andy Briggs - Free Book Online Page B

cold, calculating attack impressed Tarzan, who remained motionless just a yard away. The Targarni soon finished their rest and three chimps hoisted the prisoners over their backs before they continued.
    Tarzan did not immediately move from his hiding place. It would be folly to further pursue Goyad in the dark; he knew exactly where the apes were heading. What value the prisoners had, he didn’t know, but it was enough to warrant keeping them alive. Not so long ago, Tarzan would have recklessly pursued the Targarni, if only to provoke and annoy them, but now he felt the weight of responsibility toward his family. He had led them here, and while the Targarni were around, he couldn’t risk getting injured or worse. The Mangani needed him, and so Goyad should wait.
    However, Tarzan’s unquenchable curiosity was getting the better of him.
    â€¢ • •
    T he pygmies surrounded Greystoke’s party: expressions fierce, weapons raised. The lead figure eyed Greystoke and his companions with hostility. He walked in an arc around Jane, his eyes studying her ruffled blonde hair. She had seen that air of curiosity before with Tarzan; blonde was not a natural shade in the heart of the jungle. The pygmy’s skin was a natural dark brown, camouflaged further by the dried mud he wore as war paint. His face was most definitely that of a man in his forties, but he barely came up to Jane’s shoulders, and she was by no means tall. The tip of the spear moved closer toward her, and it took all her courage not to flinch. The stone blade lifted her hair, then let it fall back to her shoulders.
    Lord Greystoke suddenly said something in an unfamiliar language. The pygmies’ eyes widened as they recognized their own tongue and replied rapidly.
    â€œYou speak their language?” said Archie in surprise.
    â€œA little,” said Greystoke, his face screwed in concentration as he tried to decipher what was being said. “They’re Mbuti people… . Or a tribe of them. They’re speaking Bantu… . But the dialect is not one I’ve heard before. There are some similarities… .”
    Clark snorted. “Glad you’re such an expert.”
    â€œThere are over a hundred and forty dialects in use,” said Greystoke tartly, without taking his eyes off the lead pygmy who was now gesturing with his spear. “Even out here, there are clans who seldom need to have contact with the outside world. I think they are claiming this is their territory.” The leader gestured angrily to the trees. “As far as I can tell, they have been forced from their own lands. Forced out here.”
    â€œThey look happy ’bout it too,” said Clark.
    â€œForced?” said Jane. “Who’d do that to them?”
    Greystoke relayed the question and the leader snapped back a reply, gesturing to the Westerners.
    â€œIt appears I did,” said Greystoke, carefully keeping his face neutral.
    Jane glanced at Robbie, who was thinking the same thing. “Do they know who you are?” she asked carefully.
    â€œIf they did, I would be dead already.” Greystoke glanced at her and Robbie. “Thinking of turning me in?”
    â€œIt crossed my mind,” said Robbie grimly.
    Greystoke forced a smile on his face. “Then you would lose your meal ticket. And your own lives. They are not indiscriminate killers, but they will fight for what they believe is theirs. And they see no distinction between you and me.”
    He spoke in a halting dialect to the pygmies, gesturing to himself and the others. The exchange continued for some minutes before the leader finally cast the group a grim look, then disappeared back into the forest. When Jane looked around, the other pygmies had silently vanished too.
    Greystoke finally let out the pent-up breath he’d been holding. His smile dropped, replaced by concerned furrows across his forehead. “I explained we were just passing