The hill folk under the command of Davama Ollaga faded into the darkness after they'd provided sufficient distraction for the abduction of Salema, Tragon and Mossara's daughter. Dravo Asta found himself in an unfamiliar situation: ambushed and savaged. On the wrong end of the spear! He controlled himself and the rising fury that boiled in his breast by measured breathing and intense personal discipline. If he were going to be of any use to his people, himself, Salema, in this situation; he needed to project calm and purpose, no matter what he felt. He had to appear regal, unaffected by the carnage -- Balawa, Caralassa, Malleya, and Solomana. All of them dead, none of them would enjoy life again. Taste the sunshine on their pelt, the rain on their lips! His fault. He should have anticipated that Davama would pull some shenanigans like this: Four of his tribe murdered, six others wounded, two so seriously that they might not live out the night! He sighed in a controlled exhale. No one must sense the pain and futility he was experiencing right now! No one!!!
He summoned his lieutenants:
"Roga, Urolo, Wago, Asawa! To my side, right now!"
They gathered in a tight circle around the monkeylord. His gaze met each of theirs in a silent appraisal.
"Asawa, Urolo, Wago, gather the survivors, wrap the dead in mats and blankets, break camp and rendezvous with Estella's warriors at the edge of the great lake! No discussion! It's a four-hour quick march! Asawa, Wago, once there bring a party of her warriors back to Davama's caves. Follow our track.
Urolo, you'll escort the survivors to Estellas' lakeside retreat, offer my felicitations and apologies with the assurance that I will be joining her forthwith."
"Uncle," Urolo began.
"Wash her feet, fuck her senseless, do a mating dance for her if need be.......I'm counting on you to distract that lusty wench until I return."
"Yes uncle!" Urolo bowed his acceptance and understanding.
"Good! Roga, last year you scouted this area so I would be honored if you were to accompany me to rescue Salema and the slave or die trying."
"As you wish, my lord."
"Indeed!"
Dravo and Roga armed themselves, each packing a scout's kit and set off toward Davama's redoubt tracking Vera and the hill folk.
Dravo relived those moments following Caralassa's death:
Vera had moved to join him battling the hill folk when Caralassa went down and Salema was abducted. Vera'd been rigid for a moment -- immobile -- then she exploded in a savage blur of carnage and destruction! She killed three of them in mere seconds, maybe less, before she disappeared in pursuit of the girl and her abductors.
Dravo knew she was fast and strong, much faster and far, far, stronger than himself. He'd been sparring with her for weeks with sword and staff. She could parry the most cunning thrusts and could have easily taken him out had she been so inclined. It was like sparring with a masa, only much more dangerous! He'd killed masa but wasn't sure that he'd fare as well against his lover.
The greater moon had risen and the jungle was awash in it's pale light. Tracking could still be a chore. Dawn was a couple of hours away.