Blood Brothers of Gor (40 page)

"Should you come again into contact with them," said Hci, "inform them that our forces may be joined near the council lodge."

I had thought that the resistance would organize itself in that area. I twas at the center of the camp. Too, it was on high ground.

"I understand," said Cuwignaka.

"Will you deliver the message?" asked Hci.

"You may consider it delivered," said Cuwignaka.

"Good," said Hci. He then turned his kaiila, but, again, pulled it up short. He turned back to face us. "Mahpiyasapa has returned," he said. "He and Kahintokapa, of the Yellow-Kaiila Riders, are commanding the defense. We fear only the return of the Kinyanpi, the Flighted Ones."

"May I speak?" I asked.

"Yes," said Hci.

"Such may be met," I said. "Watonka and his party wore yellow scarves or sashes that they might be recognized by the Kinyanpi. Your warriors, too, might adopt that device. In this way the Kinyanpi may be confused as to who to fire upon, particularly in the minglings of combat. Too, consider the deplyment of archers in teh corriders of aerial attack, to protect your riders. Shaprened stakes can discourage talon attacks. Ropes stretched between lodges can interfere with low-flight attacks and impede attempted landings. Cloths and covers, even separated and strung above the ground, can provide protective concealments, some serving to hide what is actually beneath them, particularly from high altitudes, others serving as patterns distractive to archers, patterns which make it difficult to target the objects they shelter, both with respect to their movements and locations."

"Have you seen such things done effectively?" asked Hci.

"Yes," I said.

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"I will speak to Mahpiyasapa," said Hci.

"Grunt is my friend," I said. "Did he return to the camp with Mahpiyasapa?"

"Yes," said Hci. "He is with us."

"Good," I said.

"Hci," said Cuwignaka.

"Yes?" said Hci.

"What of Watonka?" asked Cuwignaka. "Does he fight with the Yellow Knives?"

"It had been my intention to kill him," said Hci. "I rode to the camp of the Isanna. I found him there. He was already dead. So, too, were some others. I think they were killed by the Yellow Knives who had been with them. It had been done now with arrows, but knives. Too, the Yellow Knives were gone. It was probably done when the attack of the Kinyanpi began. They did not need him anymore then."

"What of Bloketu?" asked Cuwignaka.

"The traitress?" asked Hci.

"Yes, Bloketu, the traitress," said Cuwignaka.

"I do not know," said Hci.

"You did not find her among the dead," said Cuwignaka.

"No," said Hci.

"The Yellow Knives must have taken her," said Cuwignaka.

"Perhaps," said Hci."I myself had little doubt as to the fate of the lovely, betrayed traitress. I recalled the coils of subble rope which Iwoso, her maiden, had worn at her belt. Too, I had little doubt that Iwoso, long before the attack, working in secret, in anticipation, had prepared a beaded collar for her mistress. Iwoso, for her part in the attack, would now be an important woman among the Yellow Knives. A woman of such importance, of course, should have her own maiden.

"As you are only a woman and a slave," said Hci, "it would be my advice, since you have kaiila, that you flee."

"Thank you for your consideration," said Cuwignaka. Indeed, in my opinion, Hci was, at least in his own mind, trying to be courteous and helpful. He did think of Cuwignaka, for the most part, as though he were a woman, and he would think of me, nautrally enough, in terms of my collar. His remark was intended to be, and I think Cuwignaka understood it in this way, in our best interest. It seemed a new Hci with whom we spoke, one far less vain and arrogant than the one we had known.

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"If you wish, on the other hand, to come to the area of the council lodge, to huddle there with the women and children, you may do so," he said. "The way to the council lodge, at this point, is clear."

"Thank you," said Cuwignaka.

"But there will be fighting there," said Hci.

"We understand," said Cuwignaka.

Hci then turned his kaiila about and rode from us.

"Did you see the movement of his shield before?" asked Cuwignaka.

"Yes," I said. "I have never seen anything like that. It is eerie."

"I am afraid," said Cuwignaka.

I felt suddenly chilly. Then I shook the chill from me. The sky was bright. In it were billowy white clouds. It was a good day for war.

"Shall we go to the council lodge or flee?" I asked.

"We shall decide that matter in a way becoming to my people," said Cuwignaka. "Do you see that lonely fleer in the sky?"

"Yes," I said.

"If it should fly north or west," he said, "we shall go to the council lodge."

"And if it should fly to the south or to the east?" I asked.

"Then," said Cuwignaka, "we shall go to the council lodge."

"It is going north," I observed.

"Then the matter is clear," said Cuwignaka. "We will go to the council lodge."

"I was hoping that that would be the outcome," I said.

"So, too, was I," said Cuwignaka.

"It was very clever fleer," I said.

"I was sure it would be," said Cuwignaka.

We adjusted our weapons.

"Let us go," I said.

"What of these?" asked Cuwignaka, gesturing with his lance to the three white slaves who had been in the charge of the Yellow Knives. They stood to one side, frightened. Their long tethers dangled from their necks to the dust. They were stripped. Their hands were bound behind their backs.

"You are in the presence of a free man," I said to them, indicating Cuwignaka.

Quickly they fell to their knees, putting their heads to the dust.

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"We will leave them," I told Cuwignaka. "They are only female slaves."

"I, too, am only a female slave, Master," said Wasnapohdi, looking up at me.

"You may accompany us," I said.

"Thank you, Master," she said.

The other slaves lifted their heads, remaining on their knees, bound, in the dust.

We left them behind, then, making our way toward the council lodge. They, lie other loot strewn about, robes and saddles, must wait to see who it was who would pick them up, who it was to whom they would then belong, whom they must then serve, absolutely and unquestioningly, with every perfection and particle of their intelligence and beauty.

Chapter 26

ONCE MORE TO TREAD DISPUTED, BLOODY DUST

"Well done!" I called to Cuwignaka.

His kaiila in the clash of shield and lances had lost its footing, spinning and falling back to its haunches. Cuwignaka had retained his position on the animal. As it scrambled up he had caught a passing Yellow Knife under the shield. The momentum of the Yellow Knife had wrenched Cuwignaka to the side but, again, he had kept his postion. The same momentum, in its force, blood leaping from his side, carried the Yellow Knife from the point of the lance. In a few yards he had been unable to cling to the animal and had slipped from its back, under the paws of other beasts.

I looked about myself.

Hci and Cuwignaka, to my right, were almost side by side.

I buffeted aside the attack of a Yellow-Knife lance, it furrowing the hide of the shield I bore. There were men afoot amonst us, too, both Yellow Knives and Kaiila. The Yellow Knife whirled his kiila about, as I did mine. Lances struck on shields. We were then apart from one another. Ear-splitting shrieks and cries filled the air. Red savages are not wont to conduct their altercations in dignified silence. There is a purpose to such things, of course. They serve to heighten aggression

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and ventilate emotion. They may also have a rold to play in the intimidation, and consequent inhibition, of the enemy, perhaps in virtue of making one seem a more fearsome or terrible foe. Most interestingly, such cries, particularly if unexpected, may freeze, or startle, the enemy, thus, for a brief, valuable moment, providing the aggressor with a relatively inactive, stationary target for a particular stab or thrust. This sort of thing occurs in the animal world, incidentally, as when the cry of the male larl freezes game for the coordinated attack of his mate, the she-larl. Too, those who have been trained in the use of the bayonet will not find such things unfamiliar.

"Beware!" I cried.

A Kaiila turned, catching the canhpi of a Yellow Knife on his shield.

I yanked back my leg, bloody. I struck down to my right with the butt of my lance. A Yellow Knife, afoot, reeled back. He was struck by the forequarters of another Yellow Knife's kaiila and fell to the ground. There a Kaiila warrior leapt upon him, knife rising and falling.

Suddenly my lance was pinned between my mount and that of another warrior, one of the Kaiila. For an instant I could not free it of the press of the animals and then I wrenched it free.

I saw Cuwignaka fend away an attack against Hci, thrusting his kaiila, his shield lifted, litterally between that of Hci and his assailant. Hci himself was thrusting away an attacker on his right.

In feeling I was not really much aware of the cut on my leg but I inspected it, visially, to ascertain its depth and nature. It is important to be objective about such matters. In particular, if the flow of blood is considerable or steady, it must be stanched. Some men have bled to death from wounds of which they, in the heat of battle, in the excitement and press of combat, were scarcely aware. The blood from the wound, however, was shallow and run from the cut itself. Already its flow was slowing. It was not dangerous. There were neither veins nor arteries in the area.

I kicked back my heels into the flanks of my kaiila and it lunged ahead. My lance dug into the chest of a Yellow Knife afoot. I jerked loose the lance. The thrust is made with the blade parallel to the ribs. This facilitates its removal.

Men clashed on either side of me.

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I saw a white female slave, nude, terrified, running, buffeted, among the men and animals.

It made no sense to me that she should be loose on the field.

She was beautiful.

I saw a young Kaiila warrior, his lance transferred to his left hand, reached down to seize her by the hair, to appropriate her for himself.

"No!" I cried. "No!"

The young warrior looked up, startled.

Bearing down on him, lance leveled, was a painted Yellow Knife.

I brought my kaiila about and, desperately, thrust the lance into the charging Yellow Knife, to my right. It went half though him, his force driving his body about the wood. His gut struck my hand and the lance, in his scream and the twisting of the kaiila, was lost. Behind him, as I had feared, came his flankers, thos working with him, to protect him in his charge, those who would gie him time to free his lance. The short sword of Port Kar leapt forth from my sheath. I met the lance of the man on my left with the shield, turning its stroke. The other fellow, who had been to the left of the lead warrior, pulled his kaiila toward me. I turned, taking his lance thrust, too, on the shield. As he thrust at me again I struck off the end of the lance. Such blades are, for most part, unknown in the Barrens. They can part silk dropped upon them. Startled, crying out, he pulled his kaiila back, and turned, and fled. I struck out at the fellow on my left and a segment, cleaved, flew from his shield. Wide-eyed, he, too, withdrew.

Such blades, of course, are infantry weapons. Their weight and length is designed to achive a desiderated optimum. Tey are heavy enought to ahve considerable striking force in saberlike trajectories and light enough to ahve something of the swiftness and play of the foil. They are long enough to outreach a dagger-armed opponent and short enough, and maneuverable enough, to work their way, beating and thrusting, behind the guard of longer, heavier weapons. They are not, however, a good weapon for use from either the back of a kaiila or a tarn. That sabers are not used more widely on Gor is, I think, a function of the tendency of many mounted warriors to rely too exclusively, in my opinion, on their skills with the lance. The scimitar of the Tahari, a useful weapon

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from kaiilaback, is an interesting exception to this general tendency.

Here and there, some leaning awry, thrust in the dirt, were lances.