Savages of Gor (22 page)

Ginger and Evelyn moaned.

"These slaves," I said, indicating the two former tavern girls, "seem not totally ignorant."

"Even these slaves," he said, indicating Ginger and Evelyn, ",who seem so transfixed with terror, do not even begin, I assure you, to have any idea as to what might lie before them."

The two girls shuddered. Their will, of course, was nothing. They, like the animals they were, must go where their masters pleased.

"I take it that you, with your pack train, intend to enter the Barrens," I said.

"Yes," said he.

"Tomorrow morning?" I asked.

"Yes," said he.

"You are, then, a trader?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"I have sought along the perimeter for one named 'Grunt'," I said.

"That is known to me," he said.

"None seemed to know of his whereabouts, or clearly", I said.

"Oh?'' he said.

"I found that unusual," I said.

"Why?" he asked.

"This fellow, Grunt," I said, "is presumably a well-known trader. Does it not seem strange, then, that no one would have a clear idea as to his location?"

"That does seem a bit strange," agreed the fellow.

"It is my thought," I said, "that this fellow, Grunt, has many friends, that he inspires loyalty, that these friends desire to protect him."

"If that is so," he said, "then this Grunt, in at least some respects, must be a lucky man."

"Do you know him?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Do you know where he is?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Do you think you could direct me to his whereabouts?" I asked.

"I am he," he said.

"I thought so," I said.

9
     
We Cross the Ihanke

"It is here," said Grant, turning about on his kaiila. "See the wands?"

"Yes," I said. We were now some two pasangs east of Kailiauk.

"Here is one," said Grunt, "and there is another, and another."

"I see," I said, shading my eyes.

The grass was to the knees of the kaiila. It came to the thighs of the slave girls, in brief one-piece slave tunics, of brown rep-cloth, with deep cleavages, in throat coffle, bearing burdens on their heads.

The wand before us was some seven or eight feet high. It is of this height, apparently, that it may be seen above the snow, during the winter moons, such as Waniyetuwi and Wanicokanwi. It was of peeled Ka-la-na wood and, from its top, there dangled two long, narrow, yellow, black-tipped feathers, from the tail of the taloned Herlit, a large, broad winged, carnivorous bird, sometimes in Gorean called the Sun Striker, or, more literally, though in clumsier English, Out-of-the-sun-it-strikes, presumably from its habit of making its descent and. strike on prey, like the tarn, with the sun above and behind it. Similar wands I could see some two hundred yards away, on either side, to the left and right. According to Grunt such wands line the perimeter, though usually not in such proximity to one another. They are spaced more closely together, naturally, nearer areas of white habitation.

Grunt now turned back on his kaiila to look out, eastward over the broad grasses and low, rolling hills. The terrain beyond the wands did not appear much different from the terrain leading up to them. The hills, the grass, the arching blue sky, the white clouds, seemed much the same on both sides of the wands. The wands seemed an oddity, a geographical irrelevance. Surely, thrust in the earth, supple in the wind, with the rustling feathers, they could betoken nothing of significance. The wind was fresh. I shivered on the kaiila.

For those who might be interested in such things, we came to the wands in the early spring, early in Magaksicaagliwi, which is the Moon of the Returning Gants. The preceding moon was the Sore-Eye Moon, or Istawicayazanwi. Because of its uncertain weather, the possible freezes and storms, and its harsh winds, this month had been avoided by Grunt. The next moon was Wozupiwi, the Planting Moon, which term, in the context, I find extremely interesting. It seems to make clear that the folk of the area, at one time, were settled, agricultural peoples. That, of course, would have been before the acquisition of the kaiila, which seems to have wrought a local cultural transformation of the first magnitude. One often thinks of a hunting economy representing a lower, in some sense, stage of cultural development than an agricultural economy. Perhaps this is because, commonly, agriculture provides a stabler cultural milieu and can, normally, support larger populations on less territory. A single human being can be agriculturally supported by less than an acre of land. The same human being, if surviving by hunting, would require a territory of several square miles. Here, however, we seem to have a case where peoples deliberately chose the widely ranging, nomadic hunting economy over an agricultural economy. The mobility afforded by the kaiila and the abundance of the kailiauk doubtless made this choice possible, the choice of the widely ranging hunter, the proud and free warrior, over the farmer, denied distant horizons, he who must live at the mercy of the elements and in bondage to his own soil.

Grunt sat astride his kaiila, a lofty, yellow animal, looking eastward, out beyond the wands. Behind him there was a pack kaiila, laden with goods. A thong ran from the pierced nose of the beast to a ring at the back of his saddle. I, too, was astride my kaiila, a black, silken, high-necked, long fanged beast. To my saddle, too, was tethered a pack kaiila. Various goods were borne by our pack animals, both of the four-legged and two-legged varieties. My goods were all laden on my pack kaiila. Grunt's goods, on the other hand, of course, were distributed over his eleven beasts of burden, the kaiila and the ten other pack animals. My goods, substantially, consisted of blankets, colored cloths, ribbons, mirrors and beads, kettles and pans, popular in the grasslands, hard candies, cake sugar and chemical dyes. Grunt carried similar articles but he, as well, as I had not, carried such items as long nails, rivets, hatchets, metal arrowheads, metal lance points, knife blades and butcher knives. The knife blades and long nails are sometimes mounted in clubs. The blades, of course, may also be fitted into carved handles, of wood and bone. The rivets are useful in fastening blades in handles and lance shafts. The metal arrowhead is a convenience. It is ready-made and easy to mount. It is not likely to fracture as a stone point might. Similarly it makes dangerous trips to flint-rich areas unnecessary. The butcher knives are usually ground down into a narrow, concave shape. They do not have the sturdiness for combat. They are used, generally, for the swift acquisition of bloody trophies.

I saw Grunt straighten himself in the high-pommeled saddle. He lifted the reins. He kicked back with his heels, suddenly, smiting the animal in the flanks. It started, and then, in its smooth, loping stride, crossed the line of the wands. Grunt rode some twenty yards ahead, and then pulled back the kaiila, twisting its head back with the reins, wheeling it about to face us. He loosened the long, coiled whip fastened with a snap strap at the right of his saddle, and rode back towards us, along the right side of the coffle of barefoot, scantily clad, neck-chained beauties. "Hei! Hei!" he called. He cracked the whip in the air, twice. He then rode about the rear of the coffle, and advanced, on his kaiila, along its left side. He was right-handed.

"We are women, and only helpless slaves!" cried out Ginger. "Please, Master, do not take us across the line of the wands!"

"Reconsider, Master, we beg of you!'' cried out Evelyn.

"Hei! Hei!" cried Grunt.

"Please, no, Master!" cried out Ginger.

"Please, no, no, Master!'' cried out Evelyn.

Then the whip lashed down. More than one girl cried out with pain. Then the whip fell, too, on Ginger and Evelyn. They screamed, struck.

"Hei! Hei!" called Grunt.

"Yes, Master!" wept Ginger.

"Yes, Master!" wept Evelyn.

"Hei! Hei!" urged Grunt.

The coffle, then, to the snapping of the whip, led by the terrified red-haired girl, the former Millicent Aubrey-Welles, from Pennsylvania, began to move ahead. Ginger and Evelyn, in their places, stumbled forward, red-eyed and almost numb with terror. Other girls, smarting from the pain and feeling the jerking of the chain on their collars, weeping, followed, they, too, in their appropriate places, precisely where their master wished them, places made clear by their collars and chains. Only Ginger and Evelyn, I surmised, had any inkling as to the nature of the place into which they were being taken, and they, too, in the final analysis, were only barbarians. They, too, at least as yet, would not be able to understand where they were being taken, what was being done to them, not fully, not yet in its full meaning. I thought it just as well that the girls, even Ginger and Evelyn, were substantially ignorant. This made it easier to march them across the line of the wands. I watched the girls, the burdens on their heads, their necks chained, moving through the tall grass. They were now crossing the line of the wands. I wondered if they could even begin to suspect the terrors into which they were entering. Yes, I thought to myself, it is better this way. Let them, for the time, remain ignorant. They would learn soon enough what it might mean, in such a place, in the place of the kailiauk and the high grasses, to be a white female.

Grunt, on his kaiila, had now taken his place at the head of the line, the pack kaiila behind him.

I looked at the red-haired girl, first in the coffle, the burden' balanced with her small hands on her head. Grunt, I knew, had some special disposition in mind for her. Yet, now, she, like the others, served as a mere pack animal, one of the beasts of his coffle, bearing his goods.

No white man, I recalled, was to bring more than two kaiila across the line of the wands. No group of white men was to bring more than ton kaiila across that seemingly placid boundary.

The red-haired girl looked well in the coffle, moving in the grass, the chain on her neck, in the brief slave tunic. So, too, did the others. Slave girls are beautiful, even those who must serve as mere beasts of burden. Grunt, I recalled, in urging his coffle forward, had not struck the lead girl, his lovely red-haired beast, with the lash, as he had several of the others. He had chosen, for some reason, to spare her its stroke. This was, I suspected, because be had something more in mind for her than a burden and a place in the coffle. He had, clearly, something else in mind for her. He was apparently willing to take his time with her, and to bring her along easily and gently, at least for a time. This was, perhaps, because she seemed already to understand that it would be her business to please men, and that she was a slave. She would have to understand later, of course, what it was to be a slave, fully. That would be time enough for her to feel the boot and the whip.

"It is here," Grunt had said.

I looked again ahead, out beyond that seemingly placid boundary, out beyond the wands.

I checked my weapons. Then I, too, urged my kaiila forward. In a few moments I and my pack kaiila, too, had crossed the line of the wands.

"It is here," Grunt had said.

I pulled up the kaiila and looked behind me. Now I, too, had crossed that boundary marked by the supple-feathered wands. I saw the feathers moving in the wind. Now I, too, had crossed the Ihanke, Now I, too, was within the Barrens.

I urged my kaiila forward again, after Grunt and the coffle. I did not wish to fall behind.

10
   
I See Dust Behind Us

"You are aware, are you not," I asked Grunt, "That we are being followed?"

"Yes," he said.

It was toward the noon of our second day in the Barrens.

"I trust that their intentions are peaceful," I said.

"That is unlikely," he smiled.

"Are we not yet in the country of the Dust Legs?" I inquired. This was a perimeter tribe, which, on the whole, was favorably disposed towards whites. Most trading was done with Dust Legs. Indeed, it was through the Dust Legs that most of the goods of the interior might reach civilization, the Dust Legs, in effect, acting as agents, and intermediaries. Many tribes, apparently, would not deal on a face-to-face basis with whites. This had to do with the hatred and suspicion fostered by that tradition called the Memory. Too, it was often difficult to control their young men. Although small trading groups were welcomed in the country of the Dust Legs, such groups seldom penetrated the more interior territories. Too many of them had failed to return. Grunt was unusual in having traded as far east as the country of the Fleer and the Yellow Knives. Too, he had entered, at least once, the country of the Sleen and the Kaiila. Some of these territories, apparently, had scarcely been penetrated since the days of the first white explorers of the Barrens, men such as Boswell, Diaz, Bento, Hastings and Hogarthe.

"Yes," said Grunt.

"Why, then, do you conjecture that their intentions may be hostile?" I asked.

"They are not Dust Legs," he said.

We wheeled our kaiila about, and the coffle stopped. The girls put down their burdens, gratefully. We observed the dust in the distance, some pasangs across the prairie.

'They are, then," I speculated, "Fleer or Yellow Knives."

"No," he said.