Jimmy Loong
1st July
2018
Savage Love
Prelude
Down the latitude of the geographical lines, the single figure
crouched on the large branch with his sight on the prey below. The prey was
passing below the branch. The figure on the top leaped down but the one
targeted had jumped aside with a body twist and the left hook impacted on the
predator. The later went down but the right leg went out in a swing to bring
down the target.
Both went down but soon rolled apart.
“Jane, you are too aggressive.” Tarzan looked at his lover. “You are
too tense.”
(Extract from Heroes III)
Book 1
1.
“Get off me.” Lord
Greystokes pushed himself off her when he heard the refusal. He looked at his
lover, Jane Maureen Clayton; the Lady Greystokes of Greystokes Estate in the
African continent. She was once the daughter of an explorer and then found her
love in the jungle with the untamed man who was raised by the apes. She had
then tamed the man to be the gentleman and from there to be the inheritor of
the Greystokes name and land stretching from the isle of Empire to the
continent. Riches and glamour was not for the couple who had decided to stay
with the locals at the African continent, adopting its culture and lifestyle
where the snubs and nuts could never understand.
Jane stepped off the soft
bedding and walked to the wash area. Her blonde hair displaced from the sweaty
sessions trailed below her back just above the double moons shape of the rear.
Her strides were without rush for her long legs gave her advantage in the
strides. Her soft steps drew the hearing of her lover who had then sat up on
the bedding. The bedding was of the soft wood and with fine sewing of the
tender vines it formed a relaxing place to lay on. The lover having sat up with
his knees bent towards his chest looked at the lady with his arousal tenting
up. He could not suppress his arousal while he saw the lady turned towards the
water trough. Her body bent from the waist was bewitching to him and then she
turned her body sideways to pour the content of the small bucket of water over
her body. The water gushed down the lady’ body from the head to the toes,
trailing droplets down her spine and her chest like the cascading waterfall. She
heaved in the sigh of relief on the coldness of the water that had cooled down
her body temperature but to him, the sight of the droplets trailing down the
lady’s body was beyond the need of words. He trailed his sight from her perky
breasts towards the bent left leg that covered the oasis of his lust and then
when she turned her back to scoop the water once more, he found himself riveted
onto her back and then it travelled down the spine towards the rounded buttocks
that he got see the red imprints of his fingers. He reached down to his own
arousal and then voiced to his desire.
“Jane…”
“Drop it, John. I am not
in the mood.” Lady Greystokes or Jane to her friends and lover took the robe to
cover herself. “Find your own bitch for it.”
The lady had then marched
out of the bedroom of theirs. That low line snapped at the man who lying on the
bedding. He was a fine specimen for a male, with the masculine build and the
long limbs that gave him reach that many could not find. He sat up and watched
the lady then in her robe have existed the personal chamber of theirs. He
strode over to the wash area and doused himself with the cold water that was
available in the tub. It helped in a way to quell his desire. He then took up
the loin cloth that he was used to wearing then in the hot climate but decided
he will settle for the full clothing of the gentleman. He has lessons to learn
on being a gentleman and it was never the occasion or place that he needed to
do so but the company he was to share with. He selected a white shirt with the
short sleeves and dark pants along with the dark leather shoes.
Lord Greystokes then
heard the laugh of the baboon that was perched on the lime tree outside the
bedroom window. He was to throw the dark shoe at the creature but decided that
he will be pretend to ignore that creature who does not appreciate the finer
dressing of Man. The creature drew on another laughter and that caused the Lord
to forego his manners and the left side of the dark shoe was the impacting
point. The baboon missed by the shoe had decided to retreat but after it
displayed its pink shades rear end to the Lord.
The dignified Lord of the
Greystokes estate had to quell his animal instincts and proceeded to walk out
of the personal chamber. The sounds of the familiar cranks and gears after the
thundering roar came to his hearing. He rushed out and saw the flume of smokes
marking the departure of his lover.
“Balando” The one that
Lord Greystokes was that of his friend and a fellow warrior from the Waziri
clan. Balando had taken on the role as personal guard for the Greystokes after
their return from the East. He heard from rumours that Lady Jane had lost her
unborn child there. He was a father of five children, but he knew the pain of
losing even one. His own second son was killed by a lion and it took him a week
to track the lion to kill it.
Balando oversees the
house staffs and also was the leader of the ten warriors assigned to guard the
house.
“Mamie Jane left just
now.” Balando reported back. “She took the hard horse.”
The hard horse was the 350cc
Douglas two-wheeler with the engine in-line mounted high in the frame, with the
belt final drive and with mechanically operated valves. The 350cc with the
60.5mm bore and 60mm stroke with maximum speed of fifty miles. Jane had it
mounted with the experimental brake disc brought in from London. The
two-wheeler was a noisy brute in the tranquil jungle there, but it also marked
her arrival, and most of the predators left her alone.
“Mamie Jane took her noise
sticks.” That was bad. Besides her daredevil skills on the two-wheeler, she was
also an expert on the Mauser 98 rifle with its near fifty inches length and the
7.92x57mm cartridge. With the effective range of over five hundred yards
without optics, she was able to reload the five rounds clips in second. If that
failed, she held the Henry’s with the .44 calibre complete with fifteen rounds
magazine slung over her chest. For close fights, she has the Webley and the
dagger that Tarzan had give her. The dagger was crafted from the buffalo horn.
Lord Greystokes could
sense trouble from his trained instinct. He rushed back to the house and
changed into his familiar jungle attire; the loin cloth made from the dead lion
he killed some years back and then he reached for his own weapons.
The buffalo horn blade
that he spent over weeks on shaping and sharpening it with the lion skin
wrapped on the top to be its hilt was tucked into his waist string that wrapped
his loin cloth there. He then grabbed the quiver with the twenty odd arrows
with the wooden tips covered with the toxins from the black widow species. He
then slung the bow of his made from the flexible wood that allowed it to bend
and yet not broken, with the long spear of the Waziri clan.
Lord Greystokes have
regressed into the background while a new ego surfaced named Tarzan of the Apes.
“Tarzan, I will come with
you.” Balando turned to run towards his house next to the huge one that the
palace for the Tarzan of the Apes. The estate was huge spanning over five acres
with the so named palace being the biggest structure followed by the staff
quarters, the warriors’ homes and then stables cum workshop.
“No, Balando. I need to
do this alone. Take care of home.” Tarzan told his friend.
“Be careful, Tarzan. I
heard of the soldiers are there. They are not friendly.” Tarzan heeded the
other’s caution. Balando was right; the foreign countries have deployed their
troops at the ports and cities citing the need to protect their own people. The
same countries have also hired mercenaries to explore the interiors. The truth
of the matter was they sought hidden treasures.
2.
A distance away nearer to
the coastal area, a group of men were seated on the veranda of their hose
‘summer retreat’ discussing their economic interests. The group of four
gentlemen dressed in the so named safari attire’ of white shirt and brown knee
length pants with the tall socks tucked into the leather wear. They were
drinking Irish whisky offered by their kind host from London.
“I say, old chaps, are we
to get concerned on our investment here?” The three gentlemen all turned their
sights towards the Britisher who had raised the pertinent question that was
their call for meet that afternoon.
“Oui, I have some.” The
French were always suspicious of the English. “How far with our expeditions?”
“Herr Clement, there are
three expeditions out there. They have made some remarkable headways…” The
German was an academic with a doctorate in Astrological Studies. He was a tall
figure in the white jacket and matching pants with the pressed shirt. He saw
crossed legs with the length and his feet were in the polished white shoes.
“I am fully briefed by
your aides, Doctor Schmidt or shall I call you Otto?” The British does have
their humours to names.
“And salutations to them
on the detail. Perhaps my French counterpart would have that assurance of trustworthy
on you than to rely on the figment of imagination of the French’s informers he
employed They are known to be like mine; dubious in nature but we have never
been trusting neighbours to visit the other backyard.” The British gentleman
replied. “Am I not right, Monsieur Clement?”
The British was built
from around his wide girth putting to shame Humpty, and his neck hidden beneath
the flesh that covered the jaws but the eyes were his to look at every event with
more details than other. The hair piece of his was accentuated by the thick
side burns and walrus moustache. He had on his other affinity in life besides
afternoon tea was the thick cigar. His dressing was however immaculate with the
hand sewn extraordinaire tailors that only relationship could acquire the
invitation.
“Mr. Cargill, you have
hit the nail on the …. Casket?” The Frenchman smiled. “Padrone me. I am not
eloquent in the phrases spoken by your learned ones.”
The Frenchman was a squat
figure with a flamboyant dressing of the white striped three piece and the dark
shoes. He was seated there on the wicker chair with the glass of cognac that he
served only himself.
“A finer refinement to
the expression, my dear Monsieur.” The British figure replied. “But generosity
was never your valour so I won’t cheer you on to change the English phrases.
You might hurt the academics there.”
“Gentleman, please. We
are acting like children now.” The host voiced out. He was a stout figure with
the tanned look clothed in the khaki brown two-piece safari suit and knee-high
boots. The figure had on a beard on his chin and with the deep sunken eyes plus
the ruffled hair on the head, he looked more like the pirate captain then.
“Yes, Hans. Do excused
our behaviours. We will endeavour to make good on our behaviour.”
“And I will speak. The
expeditions are doing well. They have made inroad from different directions but
they are driven by the clues.” Hans Pieter explained it. “They are well
equipped but the fear of theirs is not of the Empire that spanned the continents,
the Emperor who held the same aspirations nor of the dark warriors in the
continent. They feared the unknown; the rumour of the Queen that ruled the
jungle there. She is also known as the Queen of the Congo.”
“The Queen? I heard of
her from the officers who had been there in the French Congo.” The Frenchman added
in. The Congo basin was carved by several states; the Congo Free State, the
French Congo, and the Portuguese Congo.
“In name, Herr Clement.”
Doctor Schmidt smiled. “Where there is a Queen, there will be a King. There is
one known as Tarzan. He is the Lord that ruled the Apes. He who is the Lord is
akin to be the King and warrior held the land that we are to venture in. His
name is Tarzan.”
“A child’s tale. I heard
of those names.” The British national voiced out. “But the name Tarzan, we knew
him well. He is a Lord by ancestral lines. He is Lord Greystokes or his name is
John Clayton. I knew his father. All too well for he was left stranded there by
me.”
“Lord Greystokes? I heard of that name. He was
…. what was the word…. a savage.” Monsieur Clement cut in. “Bete… We called
them that.”
“Sauvage, Monsieur Clement.
They are all the savages. We are not like them. He was an outcast.” Cargill
explained the meaning.
“Whatever or whoever he
is, he can be killed. We must then have him removed.” Doctor Schmidt voiced his
diagnosis. “If he is not, he will infect the expeditions and then us. I vote
for him to die.”
“Then he will be.” Hans
Pieter voiced out. “He will be mounted on the wall like the others.”
“Did anyone forget the
Queen?”
The walls inside the
mansion built by the Pieter family for over three generations held not the
great estate ground with the mansion perched on the hillside facing the huge
lake, it also housed the mini zoo with the exotic creatures, its unknown prison
for the family enemies which could house fifty in-house. And finally the
barracks that housed a hundred mercenaries. There were the mounted trophies;
the ones in the mansion were the rare creatures where the heads were kept as
trophies. Those were the guests allowed specimens; there were a dozen others in
similar mountings but they were displayed in the prison.
Jane was not keen to be
mounted on the wall or the deep cliffs. She had taken the two wheeler on a
noisy trail. She stopped at the train depot where the other needed supplies are
brought in. She saw the train there; doing the stopover before moving back to
the main lines. The diversion in the tracks were the works of the Clayton
influence. She was joined by the elderly Waziri warrior.
“Mumbe, please do as I
requested.”
A short time later, she
was on horseback riding into the jungle. She had changed into a new set of
clothes that reeked of hyenas’ urine. It was her way to avoid her lover. She
needed to be alone for this task.
“I will kill Sheena.”
It’s not her will but
inducted into her.
“Sheena killed my
father.”
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