Savages of Gor (48 page)

"Smile," said Grunt. "Smile."

I could not smile, but, too, I did not offer resistance.

19
   
In the Distance There is the Smoke of Cooking Fires

Evelyn cried out with misery as the tether was knotted about her neck. Her small wrists pulled futilely at the bond, which held her hands confined behind her back. Then, stumbling, she was thrust beside Ginger, and Max and Kyle Hobart. All had been stripped.

"Hi," cried the Sleen warrior, a high warrior in their party, and kicked back into the flanks of his kaiila. The animal squealed and snorted, moving to the side and then forward. In a moment it was following the line of withdrawing warriors, led by their war-party leader, he followed by the banner-bearer, carrying the crook like, feathered staff, used in giving directions in battle, and then the others.

It was he, it seemed, who would lead them in triumph in their camp. He held the tethers of the Hobarts, and Ginger and Evelyn. Two other Sleen, too, then followed, who would bring up the rear, riding behind the column, some yards behind the captives.

Grunt stood behind, his fists clenched.

Near Grunt, on their stomachs, stripped, lying in a standard binding position, their ankles crossed and their wrists held crossed behind them, placed in a tandem line, head to feet, one after the other, were Corinne, Lois, Inez and Priscilla. Priscilla made a tiny noise and winced as a Yellow-Knife warrior, kneeling across her body, tied her wrists behind her back. One ties the last girl in such a tandem line first. That way the other girls are less likely to bolt. A girl, thus, does not see the girl before her bound until she herself has been bound.

I watched the withdrawal of the Sleen war party. They were well pleased with their share of the loot. Ginger and Evelyn were lovely prizes and the Hobarts would doubtless prove useful in heavy work and, as boys, minding the kaiila herds.

The Yellow-Knife warrior now tied Inez's hands behind her back.

The coffle chains and the manacles, which had bound the Hobarts, lay discarded in the grass.

The red-haired girl was on her hands and knees in the grass, naked, warriors, some on foot, some astride kaiila, Yellow Knives and Kaiila, gathered about her.

Lois's hands were tied behind her back,

"Hopa," said one of the Kaiila warriors, one mounted tall, broad-shouldered fellow, with long braids, tied with red cloth, looking down on the red-haired girl. He touched her on the left arm with his long-bladed lance, the blade of tapering, bluish, chipped flint. She looked up at him, frightened, and then, unable to meet his eyes, quickly lowered her head. "Wihopawin," commented the warrior.

A Yellow Knife crouched near the girl.

The mounted Kaiila warrior said something to Pimples, whom, it had been quickly established, in the interchanges, was conversant in Kaiila. "Ho, Itancanka," said Pimples. She then quickly went to the red-haired girl and knelt her, with her hands behind the back of her head and her head back. "Breasts out," she told her in Gorean. The red-haired girl then knelt in this fashion, with her elbows back and her breasts thrust forward. Tears came to her eyes. It is a common position for slave assessment.

Corinne's hands were tied behind her back.

"Hopa," said more than one Kaiila, looking at the red-haired girl.

I wondered if the former debutante from Pennsylvania had ever dreamed, in the bed in her mansion, that she would one day kneel in the grass of a distant world, a helpless slave brazenly posed for the assessment of masters.

Tethers were now being tied on the necks of Corinne, Lois Inez and Priscilla.

"Hopa," said a Kaiila, looking at the red-haired girl. "Waste," said another.

"Hopa," said the mounted Kaiila warrior, approvingly. "Hopa, Wihopawin!"

"Howe," said another.

One of the Yellow Knives standing about put his hand or the hair of the kneeling girl.

Then the lance blade of bluish, chipped flint was at the Yellow Knife's neck. He stood up, quickly, angrily, brushing the lance away, his hand at the handle of his knife, in the beaded sheath at his hip. The lance point, brushed away, re turned to threaten him, as easily as a branch, shifted by the wind, might return to its original position. The Kaiila warrior's legs tensed. At a kick backward the kaiila would boll forward, driving the lance into the Yellow Knife. Yellow Knives and Kaiila, hereditary enemies, tensed.

Corinne, Lois, Inez and Priscilla were pulled by their neck tethers to their feet.

One of the Yellow Knives near the fellow threatened with the lance said something to him. The Yellow Knife at whose chest the lance point was poised then stepped angrily backward. He glanced to the four girls now pulled to their feet. Their tethers were being handed to another Yellow Knife, one mounted. The leader of the Yellow-Knife party said something to the fellow. The fellow then turned away, angrily, and mounted his own kaiila. The Yellow Knives had their share of the loot. Too, because of the recent battle, this area would be, for a time, truce ground.

Urt, or Cuwignaka, Woman's Dress, as he seemed to wish to be called, had been sitting in the grass, breathing deeply and rubbing his wrists and ankles. I gathered that it must be very difficult and painful for him to move his body. He now struggled to his feet and went to the lance, fixed butt down in turf. He held momentarily to the lance, his head down keeping his balance. He then unwound the dress from the lance shaft and pulled it on, over his head. He then ripped away the lower portion of the dress, until it hung somewhat above his knees. Too, he ripped it at the left side, to allow himself more freedom of movement. He then uprooted the lance and then, unsteady for a moment, shaken by these exertions supporting himself with it

"Sleen, tarsks, all of them," said Grunt, in Gorean, looking after the retreating Yellow Knives.

"What were the yellow lances on the flanks of the kaiila of the Sleen?" I asked.

"The Sun Lances," said Grunt, "a warrior society of the Sleen."

"The painted prints on the flanks of the kaiila of the Yellow Knives?" I asked.

"The sign of the Urt Soldiers," said Grunt, "a society of the Yellow Knives."

I nodded. It was common for the members of a given society to take the warpath together.

"Two societies are represented among the Kaiila here," said Grunt. "Most belong to the All Comrades, and one belongs to the Yellow-Kaiila Riders. The fellow in the background, with his war shield in its case, is a member of the Yellow-Kaiila Riders. That may be told by the stylized yellow kaiila print, outlined in red, on the flanks of his beast, over the red horizontal bars."

I nodded. The red horizontal bar, or bars, as the case is, is commonly associated with the Kaiila, the Cutthroat tribe. There were many coup marks, I noted, on the snout and forequarters of the fellow's kaiila.

"That is a prestigious society," said Grunt. "Only tried and proven warriors, with many coups, and many expeditions of war and kaiila stealing, are admitted to it."

"The sign for the All Comrades," I said, "is the heart and lance."

"Yes," said Grunt. "They are sometimes known, too, from the sign, as the Fighting Hearts. The society name, however, more strictly, translates as the All Comrades.'

"I see," I said. The weapon ingredient in the insignia left little doubt in my mind as to the sort of enterprise in which such fellows were most likely to be comrades.

"Cheerfulness is indicated by the height of the heart, alongside the lance," said Grant.

"I see," I said. A heart placed on a horizontal base line, of course, suggested a heart on the ground, or sadness. Grunt had taught me much in the last few days. I could even, now, pick up a little of what was said in Kaiila.

"Let them alone," said Grunt to me, quickly, putting his hand on my arm. Two of the Kaiila were beginning to rummage through our trade goods.

"Very well," I said.

"The Yellow-Kaiila Rider," said Grant, "is Kahintokapa, One-Who-Walks-Before, of the Casmu, or Sand, Band."

"He is the leader?" I asked.

"It is not likely," he said, "not of a group of All Comrades like this. I think he is more in the nature of an observer, probably sent along to advise and tutor the younger men."

I nodded.

"He is not in the forefront, as you note," said Grunt

"The leader is the young man, he regarding the red-haired girl?" I asked.

"That, I gather, is the case," said Grunt. "I do not know him. He is of the Isbu Band, the Little Stones"

"You knew the other fellow," I said.

"Yes," said Grunt, "when last I was in the land of the Kaiila, I met him in general council, with Black Clouds, Mahpiyasapa, civil chief of the Isbu."

"You do not anticipate great difficulty with the Kaiila, then,'' I asked.

"I do not think so," said Grunt. "It is for Black Clouds, Mahpiyasapa, that I have brought the red-haired girl into the Barrens. For such a woman, sufficiently pleasing to him, he has promised me five hides of the yellow kailiauk."

"I had wondered what disposition you had in mind for her," I said.

"That is it," he said.

"She is to be sold to a chieftain," I said.

"Yes," he said.

Did you make that clear to our young friend?" I asked.

"Yes," said Grunt "

Why, then, is she at the paws of his kaiila I asked.

"No!" cried Grunt. He then hurried toward the young mounted savage, and the other Kaiila gathered about. Two of them, seeing his angered approach, seized him. Grunt struggled futilely in their grasp. The girl, frightened, on her belly, continued her work, with her lips, her teeth and tongue, biting, and licking and sucking, at the paws and nails of the kaiila.

Words, heated and proud, were exchanged between the two men. Grunt's resolve to conciliate and pacify the savages seemed, in the heat of the moment, to have been abandoned. Then he was thrown backward. Two of the Kaiila drew their knives. I tensed. Grunt, however, had the good sense not to charge them. Suddenly, even in his anger, he realized he might be killed.

The young warrior then spoke to the girl at the paws of his kaiila. "Quick," said Pimples, "stand up. Stand straight. Put your hands at your sides. Press your hands to your thighs. Put your head up. Whatever happens, do not resist."

Quickly the red-haired girl obeyed.

The young savage threw a beaded collar to one of the warriors near the girl.

He approached the girl.

Grunt, at this point, in an excited medley of Dust Leg, Kaiila and Gorean, distraught and angry, entered again into remonstrance with the young warrior.

"Kaiila," I said, to Grunt. "Kaiila!"

Grunt then shook his head, gathering his thoughts, and addressed himself, clearly and calmly, in Kaiila, to the youth.

But the young man, clearly, the lance grasped in his hand, high on the lofty kaiila, in his breechclout and paint, was not moved.

The more mature warrior, then, he who was of the Yellow-Kaiila Riders, moved his beast forward. He, too, spoke to the young man. The young man shook his head, angrily. The Yellow-Kaiila Rider then said something to Grunt, and then pulled back his beast, retiring again to the background. I saw that he was not pleased, but he gave little sign of it. It was not seemly, I gathered, for one such as he to enter into dispute with a younger warrior, one of another society and who had fewer coups than himself. Too, it was the young man, and not he, who was Blotanhunka, war-party leader, of this group of All Comrades.

The young man then said something to his fellow near the red-haired girl. Then he gestured to the helpless female, standing naked and straight before him, her head up, her hands pressed tightly to her thighs.

Grunt and I watched as the young man's collar was tied on her throat. She was collared.

Grunt's fists were clenched, futilely.

The red-haired girl looked at her new master in awe. He was tall, and strong, and savagely handsome. Her entire body seemed transfused with 'fear, and emotion and excitement. It was such a brute who owned her. Too, she realized that tension had been involved in her claimancy. In spite of countervailing considerations, perhaps serious ones, he had decided that it would be he, and no other, who would own her. She knew then that she, a mere slave, was the object of strong desire.

"I do not like it," said Grunt. "It will mean trouble."

"Perhaps," I said.

The young man regarded his new slave, pleasurably, approvingly. She blushed hotly under his inspection, but did no flinch nor turn her eyes from his. Then his eyes grew stem and she shrank back. She saw then that she could be only hi slave, and that she would be uncompromisingly mastered. But even this, I saw, pleased her.

"You have one slim chance for life," said Pimples. "That is to serve him, in all things, and to be pleasing to him, fully, and in all ways."

"I will," she whispered. "I will."

Then the eyes of the young master and the new slave again met. This time, again unable to meet his gaze, she lowered her head. She was very beautiful, her head bowed before her master.

She trembled.