Nomads of Gor (27 page)

      
"Let us sit down and enjoy ourselves, recommended

      
Saphrar. "If the Tuchuk does not wish to see the girls, let us

      
dismiss them."

      
"I wish to see them perform," said Aphris of Turia, though

      
she stood within arm's reach of Kamchak's quiva.

      
Kamchak laughed, looking at her. Then, to my relief, and

      
doubtless to the relief of several at the table, he thrust the

      
quiva in his sash and sat back down.

      
"Dance," ordered Aphris.

      
The trembling girl before her did not move.

      
"Dance!" screamed Aphris, rising to her feet.

      
"What shall I do?" begged the kneeling girl of Kamchak.

      
She looked not too unlike Hereena, and was perhaps a

      
similar sort of girl, raised and trained much the same. Like

      
Hereena, of course, she wore the tiny golden nose ring.

      
Kamchak spoke to her, very gently. "You are slave," he

      
said. "Dance for your masters."

      
The girl looked at him gratefully and she, with the others,

      
rose to her feet and to the astounding barbarity of the music

      
performed the savage love dances of the Kassars, the Parava-

      
ci, the Kataii, the Tuchuks.

 
They were magnificent.

 
One girl, the leader of the dancers, she who had spoken to

 
Kamchak, was a Tuchuk girl, and was particularly startling,

 
vital, uncontrollable, wild.

 
It was then clear to me why the Turian men so hungered

 
for the wenches of the Wagon Peoples.

 
At the height of one of her dances, called the Dance of the

 
Tuchuk Slave Girl, Kamchak turned to Aphris of Turia, who

 
was watching the dance, eyes bright, as astounded as I at the

 
savage spectacle. "I will see to it," said Kamchak, "when you

 
are my slave, that you are taught that dance."

 
The back anti head of Aphris of Turia was rigid with fury,

 
but she gave no sign that she had heard him.

 
Kamchak waited until the girls of the Wagon Peoples had

 
performed their dances and then, when they had been dis-

 
missed, he rose to his booted feet. "We must go" he said.

 
I nodded, and struggled to my feet, well ready to return to

 
his wagon.

 
"What is in the box?" asked Aphris of Turia, as she saw

 
Kamchak pick up the small black box which, throughout the

 
banquet, he had kept at his right knee. The girl was clearly

 
curious, female.

 
Kamchak shrugged.

 
I remembered that two years before, as I had learned, he

 
had brought Aphris of Turia a five-string diamond necklace,

 
which she had scurried, and had, according to her report at

 
least, given to a slave. It had been at that time that she had

 
called him a Tuchuk sleen, presumably because he had dared

 
present her with a gift.

 
But, I could see, she was interested in the box. Indeed, at

 
certain times during the evening, I had seen her casting

 
furtive glances at it.

 
"It is nothing," said Kamchak, "only a trinket."

 
"But is it for someone?" she asked.

 
"I had thought," said Kamchak, "that I might give it to

 
you."

 
"Oh" asked Aphris, clearly intrigued.

 
"likely you would not like it," He said.

 
"How do you know," she said, rather airily, "I have not

 
seen it."

 
"I will take it home with me," said Kamchak.

 
"If you wish," she said.

 
"But you may have it if you wish," he said.

 
"Is it other," she asked, "than a mere necklace of dia-

       
monds?" Aphris of Turia was no fool. She knew that the

       
Wagon Peoples, plunderers of hundreds of caravans, occa-

       
sionally possessed objects and riches as costly as any on Gor.

       
"Yes," said Kamchak, "it is other than a necklace of

       
diamonds."

       
"Ah!" she said. I then suspected that she had not actually

       
given the five-string diamond necklace to a slave. Undoubted-

       
ly it still reposed in one of her several chests of jewelry.

       
"But you would not like it," said Kamchak, diffidently.

       
"Perhaps I might," she said.

       
"No," said Kamchak, "you would not like it."

       
"You brought it for me, did you not?" she said.

       
Kamchak shrugged and looked down at the box in his

       
hand. "Yes," he said, "I brought it for you."

       
The box was about the size in which a necklace, perhaps

       
on black velvet, might be displayed.

    
   
"I want it," said Aphris of Turia.

       
"Truly?" asked Kamchak. "Do you want it?"

       
"Yes," said Aphris. "Give it to met"

       
"Very well," said Kamchak, "but I must ask to place it on

       
you myself."

       
Kamras, the Champion of Turia, half rose from his posi-

       
tion. "Bold Tuchuk sleen!" he hissed.

       
"Very well," said Aphris of Turia. "You may place it on

       
me yourself."

       
So then Kamchak bent down to where Aphris of Turia

       
knelt, her back straight, her head very high, before the low

       
table. He stepped behind her and she lifted her chin delicate-

       
ly. Her eyes were shining with curiosity. I could see the

       
quickness of her breath marked in the soft silk of her white

       
and gold veil.

       
"Now," said Aphris.

       
Kamchak then opened the box.

       
When Aphris heard the delicate click of the box lid it was

       
all she could do not to turn and regard the prize that was to

       
be hers, but she did not do so. She remained looking away,

       
only lifting her chin a bit more.

       
"Now!" said Aphris of Turia, trembling with anticipation.

       
What happened then was done very swiftly. Kamchak

       
lifted from the box an object indeed intended to grace the

       
throat of a girl. But it was a round metal ring, a Turian

       
collar, the collar of a slave. There was a firm snap of the

       
heavy lock in the back of the collar and the throat of Aphris

       
of Turia had been encircled with slave steel! At the same

instant Kamchak lifted her startled to her feet and turned her

to face him, with both hands tearing the veil from her face!

Then, before any of the startled Turians could stop him, he

had purchased by his audacity a bold kiss from the lips of the

astounded Aphris of Turia! Then he hurled her from him

across and over the low table until she fell to the floor where

Tuchuk slaves had danced for her pleasure. The quiva, ap-

pearing as if by magic in his hand, warned back those who

would press in upon him to revenge the daughter of their

city. I stood beside Kamchak, ready to defend him with my

life, yet as startled as any in the room at what had been

done.

The girl now had struggled to her knees tearing at the

collar. Her tiny gloved fingers were locked in it, pulling at it,

as though by brute force she would tear it from her throat.

Kamchak was looking at her. "Beneath your robes of

white and gold," he said, "I smelled the body of a slave girl."

"Sleen! Sleen! Sleen!" she cried.

"Replace your veil!" ordered Saphrar.

"Remove the collar immediately," commanded Kamras,

plenipotentiary of Phanius Turmus, Administrator of Turia.

Kamchak smiled. "It seems," he said, "that I have forgot-

ten the key."

"Send for one of the Caste of Metal Workers!" cried

Saphrar.

There were cries on all sides, "Slay the Tuchuk sleen!"

"Torture for him!" "The oil of tharlarions!" "Leech plants""

"Impalement!" "Tongs and fire!" But Kamchak seemed un-

moved. And none rushed upon him, for in his hand, and he

was Tuchuk, there gleamed the quiva.

"Slay him!" screamed Aphris of Turia, "Slay him!"

"Replace your veil," repeated Saphrar to the girl. "Have

you no shame?"

The girl attempted to rearrange the folds of the veil, but

could only hold it before her face, for Kamchak had ripped

away the pins by which it was customarily fastened.

Her eyes were wild with fury and tears.

He, a Tuchuk, had looked upon her face.

I was pleased, though I would not have admitted it, at

Kamchak's boldness, for it was a face for which a man might

risk much, even death in the torture dungeons of Turia,

utterly beautiful though now, of course, transformed with

rage, far more beautiful than had been that of the most

       
beautiful of the slave girls who had served us or given us of

       
the beauty of their dances.

       
"You recall, of course," Kamchak was saying, "that I am

       
an ambassador of the Wagon Peoples and am entitled to the

       
courtesies of your city."

       
"Impale him!" cried a number of voices.

       
"It is a joke," cried out Saphrar. "A joker A Tuchuk joker"

       
"Slay him!" screamed Aphris of Turia.

       
But no one would move against the quiva.

 
      
"Now, gentle Aphris," Saphrar was purring, "you must be

       
calm soon one from the Caste of Metal Workers will ap-

       
pear to free you all will be well return to your own

       
chambers."

       
"Nor" screamed Aphris. "The Tuchuk must be slain!"

       
"It is not possible, my dear," wheezed Saphrar.

       
"You are challenged!" said Kamras, spitting to the floor at