Blood Brothers of Gor (15 page)

"That is wonderful," said Cuwignaka.

"Attend your work, Girl," said Hci to Cuwignaka, "or I will put you to sewing."

Cuwignaka, angrily, sat back on his heels. In sewing, commonly, among the red savages, a roll of rawhide string is held balled in the mouth, and played out, bit by bit. The warmth and saliva in the mouth keeps the string moist and pliable. The thrusting end is twisted and wet. It is then thrust through holes punched in the leather with a metal or bone awl. The moist thread, of course, as well as being easier to work with, tends to shrink in drying and make tighter stiches. With the ball of hide string in the mouth, of course, it is difficult to speak. When a woman, then, finds herself being advised by her man to attend to her sewing, she understands, well enough, that it is now time for her to be silent. She has been, in effect, ordered to put a gag in her own mouth.

"You may not know of this, Hci," said Bloketu, "but Mahpiyasapa and the other chieftains know of it. There will be a council on the matter."

"The Yellow Knives are our enemies," said Hci. "There will never be peace with them."

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"Was it really the Yellow Knives who first contacted Watonka?" asked Hci.

"Yes," she said.

"I find that hard to believe," said Hci.

"Why?" asked Bloketu.

"I know Yellow Knives." said Hci, his hand straying to the long scar at the left side of his chin. "I have met them, lance to lance, club to club, knife to knife."

"There is more to life than collecting coups," said Bloketu.

"That is probably true," said Hci, regarding Iwoso. Quickly she put her head down. She was very pretty. She had been captured from Yellow Knives at the age of twelve. I thought I agreed with Hci. She was now old enough to be a man's true slave.

"Do not be afraid, Hci," laughed Bloketu. "There were only three of them, and this is the time of the great dances."

During the summer festivals, and the time of the great dances, warfare and raiding is commonly suspended on the prairie. This is a time of truce and peace. The celebrating tribe, during its own festival period, naturally refrains from belligerent activities. Similarly, interestingly, enemy tribes, during this period, perhaps in virtue of an implicit bargain, that their own festival times be respected, do not attack them, or raid them. For the red savages the festival times in the summer, whenever they are celebrated by the various tribes, are the one time in the year when they are territorially and politically secure. These are very happy times, on the whole, for the tribes. It is nice to know that one is, at such times, safe. More than one war party, it is recorded, penetrating deeply into enemy territory, and seeing the high brush walls of a dance lodge, and discovering that it was the enemy's festival time, has politely withdrawn. This sort of thing is not historically unprecedented. For example, in ancient Greece the times of certain games, such as the Olympic games, constituted a truce period during which it was customary to suspend the internecine wars of competitive cities. Teams and fans from the combatant poleis then could journey to and from the stadiums in safety. Two additional reasons militating against bellicosity and martial aggression during the summer festivals might be mentioned. First, the size of these gatherings, the enemy being massed, so to speak, tends to reduce the practicality of attacks. Bands of men are not well advised to launch themselves upon nations. Secondly, it is

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supposedly bad medicine to attack during the times of festivals.

"I do not trust Yellow Knives," said Hci.

"It is all right, Hci," said Bloketu. "Ask your father, Mahpiyasapa, if you like."

Hci shrugged, angrily.

"There is to be council on the matter," said Bloketu.

It did seem to me plausible, if the Yellow Knives wished to sue for peace, and if they had contacted Watonka, or if he had contacted them, that it would ahve been done at this time, at the time of the gathering, of the dances and feasts. This would seem to be the ideal time for such probings, such contacts, and any pertinent attendant negotiations.

Iwoso looked up. Hci was still regarding her. Such obvious scrutiny would not have been appropriate, of course, if she had not been a slave. Iwoso, again, put down her head.

"Oh," laughed Bloketu, light-heartedly, as if desiring to shift the locus of discourse, "I see you were not really spying on us, at all, Hci. You were only pretending to do so! You are a sly young fellow! You wanted an excuse to follow Iwoso!"

"No," said Hci. This was a form of teasing which Hci did not enjoy.

"I know you find Iwoso attractive," said bloketu, laughing. "I have seen you look at her."

"She is only a Yellow-Knife slave," said Hci.

"She has been with the Kaiila since the age of twelve," said Bloketu. "She is as much Kaiila as Yellow Knife."

"No," said Hci. "She is a Yellow Knife. It is in her blood."

"Perhaps, Iwoso," said Bloketu, "I will let Hci court you."

"No, please, no!" said Iwoso. I saw that she, genuinely, feared Hci, and deeply. I did not fully understand this at the time. I would later.

"Then I shall decide," said Bloketu to Iwoso, "whether or not you shall accept him."

"No, please," said Iwoso.

"Do you dispute me, my maiden?" asked Bloketu.

"No," said Iwoso, miserably.

"She should say that on her knees, with her head down," said Hci.

"You men would like us all to be your helpless slaves," said Bloketu, angrily.

I saw Cuwignaka looking at Bloketu. I thought he was, perhaps, in his mind, undressing her. He was speculating, perhaps,

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on what she might look like, diversted of her high station, diversted of the jewelry and finery of the chiefatin's daughter, put to a man's feet, collared, waiting to be commanded.

"Do you want Iwoso?" asked Bloketu, angrily, of Hci.

Hci shrugged. "She s a Yellow Knife," he said. "She might do as a slave. I do not know."

"Do you want her?" asked Bloketu.

"She might look well naked," said Hci.

"You are speaking of my maiden," said bloketu, scandalized.

"--On a rope, under a whip." added Hci.

"Bloketu!" protested Iwoso.

"If you want her," said Bloketu, angrily, "you must court her properly."

"I do not court Yellow-Knife women," said Hci. "I kill them, or collar them." He then pulled his kaiila about and, kicking his heels back into the flanks of the beast, took his leave.

"What an arrogant youn man," said Bloketu.

"Do not let him court me," begged Iwoso.

"I might let him court you," said Bloketu.

"Please, no," said Iwoso.

"Then," said Bloketu, smiling. "I might let you spurn him. That would be an excellent lesson for the fellow. Let his suit be rejected, his wooing publicly scorned. It would be a good joke."

"I would rather," said Iwoso, "that you did not permit him to court me at all."

"Why?" asked Bloketu.

"Suppose I sprun his suit," she said, "and he is angry. Suppose he seizes me, and binds me, and carries me away."

"He would not dare," said Bloketu.

"I am only a slave," said Iwoso.

"Have no fear," said Bloketu. "You are my maiden."

"Please do not let him court me," begged Iwoso.

"I will do what I want," said Bloketu.

"Yes, Bloketu," said Iwoso.

"You are afraid of him, aren't you?" asked Bloketu.

"Yes," said Iwoso. "I would be terrified to have to go to his lodge."

"Interesting," said Bloketu.

"You are free, and the daughter of a chief," said Iwoso.

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"That is why you cannot understand my fear. But I am only, really, a slave."

"Slaves are so fearful," said Bloketu.

"If you were a slave, you, too, would know fear," said Iwoso.

"Perhaps," said Bloketi.

"We are owned," said Iwoso.

I thought I saw the chieftain's daughter shudder, momentarily, a tiny shudder, one which seemed to be of fear and, if I am not mistaken, of deep excitement and pleasure, perhaps at the wickedly horrifying thought of herself being a slave, of herself being owned. At any rate, I did not think that the lovely Bloketu, if she were to find herself truly enslaved, would experience any difficulty in learning fear. She, like any other slave, I was certain, would acquire it quite easily. It is a property which attaches natrually to the condition. The slave girl is totally at the mercy of the master, in any and every way. It is not surprising, therefore, that she is no stranger to fear.

"If you permit Hci to court me," begged Iwoso, "please do not have me accept his suit."

"I will do as I want," said Bloketu.

"Please do not have me accept his suit!" begged iwoso.

"We will see what mood I am in at the time," said Bloketu, loftily.

"Please!" said Iwoso.

"We will see how I feel at the time," said Bloketu, "whther Hci is nice or not, whether or not I am pleased with you. What I do then will depend on such things."

"Please," begged Iwoso.

"Do not anger me, maiden," said Bloketu, "or I may send you to him for the night, without your clothes and tied, maybe with a quirt tied around your neck, like you were a white female slave!"

Iwoso was immediately silent.

"That is better, my maiden," smiled Bloketu. "Remember you are not yet important."

Iwoso did not respond. I did not understand Bloketu's remark about Iwoso not yet being important. If that was the case, then, I gathered, she would not have to worry about Hci, or, I supposed, other warriors of the Kaiila.

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"Are you obedient, my maiden?" asked Bloketu of Iwoso sweetly.

"Yes Mistress," said Iwoso, her head down. This was the first time I had ever heard Iwoso use the word to Bloketu. It is not unusual for a girl to discover that within her velvet bonds there are chains of steel.

"Why should Iwoso become important?" asked Cuwignaka, kneeling near the hide on which he was working. It seemed to me a fair question. Iwoso was, in the final analysis, in spite of being a maiden of a chieftain's daughter, only a slave.

"It does not matter," said Bloketu.

"I would like to know," said Cuwignaka. "I am curious."

"Such matters are not the proper concern of one who is only a pretty young girl like yourself," laughed Bloketu.

"I am not a female slave," said Cuwignaka, "expected to serve in ignorance, unquestioningly, supposedly concerned, truly, only with the pleasures of her master."

"Then you admit that you are a mere female," said Bloketu.

"No," said Cuwignaka.

"Listen to the pretty young thing!" laughed Bloketu.

"I am two years older than you, at least," said Cuwignaka.

"You lost meat!" laughed Bloketu.

"Tell me," said Cuwignaka.

"I think I will call a man, pretty Cuwignaka," she said, "to put you about your sewing."

"It has to do with the Yellow Knives, doesn't it?" asked Cuwignaka.

"Maybe," smiled Bloketu. I saw that she was very vain. Cuwignaka, too, must have understood this.

"If Iwoso is to become important," said Cuwignaka, "then doubtless you would be even more important."

"Perhaps," said Bloketu.

"And if you are important," said Cuwignaka, puzzled, "then surely Watonka, your father, would be even more important."

"Perhaps," said Bloketu.

"But how could one be more important than being a chief of the Isanna?" asked Cuwignaka, genuinely puzzled.

"May I speak, Mistress?" asked Iwoso.

"Yes," said Bloketu.

"If one can bring about peace between our peoples, the Kaiila and the Yellow Knives," she said, "one would surely, in the prestige of this, be very important."

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"That is true," said Cuwignaka.

"In doing this," said Iwoso, "it would be like counting a hundred coups, almost like being a high chief of the Kaiila."

"That is very true," said Cuwignaka, kneeling back on the dirt, near the pegged-down hide.

Bloketu seemed relieved. Iwoso, I gathered, subtly, not quite sure of it, was a very clever young woman.

"It is my hope," Iwoso said, "to be of some small help in this business, the bringing about of peace between our peoples."