Blood Brothers of Gor

by Norman, John;

  I backed off a bit, on my knees, and then rose to my feet, and then withdrew from the presence of the fellow who was patiently working on the stone. I turned about and looked again at the huge council lodge. The two guards were still at the threshold. Between them, various men were entering. Expected to attend such a council, of course, on the part of the Kaiila, were not only the civil chieftains of the various bands of the Kaiila but their high men, as well, the councils of the various bands, and trusted warriors, and men of probity and wisdom. Such councils tend to be open to the noble, the proven and worthy. In that lodge, this afternoon, would be gathered, for most practical purposes, the leadership and aristocracy of the Kaiila nation. How absurd, then, to me, appeared my suspicions and fears. Where men so numerous, and noble and wise, were gathered, surely naught could be amiss. Who was I, an ignorant slave in their midst, to concern myself with their affairs? Too, Oiputake must have been mistaken. The Yellow Knives in camp could not be war chiefs. That would make no sense.

  I took my way from the vicinity of the council lodge.

  "Where is Watonka?" I heard a man ask.

  "He has not yet arrived," said another man.

  "Is he making medicine?" asked a man.

  "I do not know," said another.

  "He is waiting for the shadow to shrink," said another. "He will then come to the council."

  I then, for no reason I clearly understood, turned my steps toward the lodges of the Isanna.

  * * * *

  The three men, arms folded, standing in the vicinity of Watonka, who stood on a bit of high ground, near the Isanna lodges, I did not doubt were Yellow Knives. It was not that there was anything in particular about them that seemed to differentiate them from the Kaiila, but rather that there seemed something as a whole about them which was different, doubtless the cumulative effect of many tiny details, perhaps in the beading of their clothing, the manner in which certain ornaments were carved, the notching of their sleeves, the manner of fringing leggings, the tufting at the base of the feathers in their hair, the cut and style of their moccasins. They were not Kaiila. They were something else. They seemed stolid and expressionless. Watonka was looking to the sky, to the southeast. At the feet of Watonka there was a slim, upright stick. In the dirt, about the stick, were drawn two circles, a larger and a smaller. In the morning, when the sun was high enough to cast a shadow, the shadow, I surmised, would have come to a point on the outer circle. At noon the sun, it seemed, in this latitude, casting its shortest shadow, would bring the shadow to or within the smaller of the two circles. When the shadow, again, began to lengthen, the sun would be past meridian. I looked up at the sun, and down to the stick and its shadow. It was, I conjectured, less than half of an Ahn before noon.

  Watonka, in marked contrast to the three warriors, whom I took to be Yellow Knives, seemed clearly ill at ease. He looked to the warriors, and then, again, looked to the sky, to the southeast. The day was bright and clear. Near the men, a bit to one side, were Bloketu and Iwoso. Bloketu, too, seemed ill at ease. Iwoso, on the other hand, like the other three, who were presumably Yellow Knives, seemed quite calm. These six, and two others, nearby Isanna warriors, with lances, wore yellow scarves diagonally about their bodies, running from the left shoulder to the right hip. The purpose of these scarves, I supposed, was to identify them as, and protect them as, members of the peace-making party. Too, of course, they might have been intended to fulfill some medicine purpose, perhaps suggested in a dream to one of them.

  I did not know if Bloketu would be permitted into the council or not. Normally women are not permitted in such places. The red savages, though often listening with great attention to their free women, and according them great honor and respect, do not choose to relinquish the least bit of their sovereignty to them. They will make the decisions. They are the men. The women will obey. Iwoso, on the other hand, I supposed, would be required in the council lodge. She was probably the only person in the camp who spoke both Yellow Knife and Kaiila fluently. Iwoso, interestingly, had a coil of slender, supple rope at her belt. Judging by the sun, and the shadow by the stick, I would have supposed that Watonka and his party should have been making their way to the council lodge. The council, as I understood it, was to begin at noon. The manner in which the men wore their yellow scarves, I noted, gave maximum free play, if they were right handed, to their weapon hands.

  "Bloketu," I said, going to her.

  "Mistress!" she corrected me.

  "Mistress," I said.

  "Why are you not kneeling?" she asked.

  I fell to my knees. "I would speak with you, if I might," I said.

  "It was your master, Canka," she said, angrily, "who tried to kill Mahpiyasapa this morning."

  "May I speak with you?" I asked.

  "Yes," she said.

  "Alone," I asked.

  Iwoso looked suddenly, sharply, at me.

  "You may speak before my maiden," said Bloketu. "What does it matter? Why should a slave not speak before a slave?"

  "Forgive me, Mistress," I said. "I may be ignorant, and a fool."

  "That is not unlikely," she said.

  "But I have reason to believe that the three men with your father, the Yellow Knives, are not as they seem."

  "What do you mean?" she asked.

  "I think they are not civil chieftains of the Yellow Knives," I said. "I think it is possible they are war chiefs."

  "Lying slave!" cried Iwoso angrily, lunging at me and striking me. I tasted blood at my mouth.

  "What is going on?" asked Watonka, looking towards us.

  "This slave is an amusing fool," laughed Bloketu. "He thinks our guests are not civil chieftains of the Yellow Knives, soon to be our friends, but war chiefs."

  This was translated by Iwoso speedily to the three Yellow Knives. Their expressions did not change.

  "That is absurd," said Watonka, looking rapidly about. "I vouch for these men myself."

  "You could not know such a thing," said Bloketu.

  "There is a slave in camp," I said, "a blond female who was owned by Yellow Knives for a time. It was she who recognized them. It was she from whom I learned this."

  "She is obviously mistaken," said Bloketu. These things, and what follows, were being translated, quickly, by Iwoso for the Yellow Knives.

  "The tongues of lying slaves may well be slit," said Watonka, angrily. He drew his knife.

  At this point one of the Yellow Knives put his hand on Watonka's arm. He spoke, and his words, for all of us, were translated by Iwoso.

  "Do not harm the slave," he said. "This is a time of happiness and peace."

  I looked up, startled. The man must indeed by a civil chieftain.

  "Dismiss him," suggested the Yellow Knife.

  "You are dismissed," said Watonka, angrily.

  "Yes, Master," I said, getting up.

  "Beat him," said Watonka to the two Isanna warriors.

  Suddenly I was prodded with the butts of the two lances, and then struck viciously about the head, the shoulders and body. I fell to my knees, my head covered, my body shuddering under the lashing and jabbing of the wood.

  "Let him go," suggested the Yellow Knife.

  "Go," said Watonka.

  I struggled to my feet and, my face bloody, my body aching, stumbled backward, and then turned, and limped away. I heard laughter behind me. I had been well beaten. No bones, it seemed, were broken. I had little doubt that my body was black and blue. I spit up, into the dirt. I almost fainted. Then I staggered away, laughter ringing about me, a humiliated and punished slave. I had done, however, what I could. I had brought Oiputake's information to the attention of one even so great as to be a civil chieftain of the Kaiila, to Watonka, the civil chieftain of the Isanna. It seemed to me I could not have done better unless I had managed to speak, perhaps, to one such as Mahpiyasapa. Suddenly I felt anger, irrationally, towards Mahpiyasapa and Grunt, and toward Canka, and even towards my friend, Cuwignaka. I had not been able to speak to t
hem. In my sickness and misery it seemed almost as though it was they who, thus, had been responsible for my beating. Then I shook the foolishness of this from my mind, and made my way back towards the lodge I shared with Cuwignaka.

  It was at this time, I think, about a quarter of an Ahn until noon.

  19

  I Speak with Cuwignaka

  "Cuwignaka!" I cried, startled, entering the interior of our lodge.

  He was sitting, cross-legged, within the lodge. His head was down. His head was in his hands. He lifted his head. "They would not let me dance," he said. "Cancega, himself, medicine chief of all the Kaiila, at the behest of Hci, refused me entrance into the dance lodge."

  "You must have heard," I asked, "of the alleged attack by Canka on Mahpiyasapa?"

  "Yes," he said, bitterly. "Hci has won," he said. "Hci has won all."

  "I am sorry, my friend," I said, "about the dance. I am sorry." I sat down, cross-legged, near him.

  "If I am not permitted to dance," asked Cuwignaka, "how can I prove to them I am a man?"

  "I am sorry, my friend," I said. In these moments, in my sorrow for Cuwignaka, I forgot my own bruises and pain. I knew that Cuwignaka, for years, had dreamed of entering the lodge of the great dance, there to test and prove the manhood from which his people seemed determined to preclude him. It was there, too, perhaps, in the loneliness and pain of the dance, that he wished himself to learn the truth in this secret and momentous matter.

  "Tatankasa," said Cuwignaka, suddenly, "what is wrong?"

  "Nothing," I said.

  "You are hurt," he said, concerned.

  "It is nothing," I said.

  Cuwignaka crawled over to where I sat. He put his hand at the side of my head. "Your head has been gashed," he said.

  I winced. "I was beaten," I said.

  He went then to the side of the lodge and brought back a cloth. He wiped blood away from the side of my head.

  "Who did this?" he asked.

  "Two men, warriors of the Isanna, on the command of Watonka," I said.

  "What did you do?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "It was foolishness," I said. "I meddled in matters in which I knew nothing. I should have known better."

  "But what did you do?" he asked.

  "It is nothing," I said. I did not want him, in his great disappointment, to concern himself with my foolishness.

  "Tell me," he said. I took the cloth from him and folded it, and held it against the wound, to stanch the flow of blood.

  "I am sorry about the dance," I said. "I know how keenly you desired to enter the lodge."

  "Why were you beaten, my friend?" he asked.

  "This morning," I said, "converse did I hold with a blond slave, after amusing myself with her. I had used her before. She was formerly a herd girl. A woman once of the high city of Ar, she had been captured by Dust Legs and suitably enslaved. She was later traded to Sleen who, in turn, traded her to Yellow Knives. She came to the Isanna among the fruits of a girl raid. On the basis of her experience with the Yellow Knives she had told me that the three Yellow Knives in the camp are not civil chieftains, as is claimed, but war chiefs."

  "She is obviously mistaken," said Cuwignaka.

  "Obviously," I said. I moved my body. It hurt to move it.

  "You told this to Watonka?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "I would rather," I said, ruefully, "have told it to someone else, and, actually, it was to Bloketu that I told it. It was only that Watonka was there."

  "It is too bad to be beaten over such a thing," said Cuwignaka.

  "I agree," I smiled. I pulled the cloth from my head. It stuck with the blood, and then pulled free. But the wound did not begin again to bleed. "I do not think Watonka would have paid us attention," I said, "except that Iwoso leaped at me, striking me, crying out that I was a lying slave."

  "That reaction seems excessive on her part," said Cuwignaka. "After all, what business is it of hers?"

  "Watonka, too, was very angry," I said. "I feared he might attack me with his knife. One of the Yellow Knives, one of the civil chieftains, intervened. I was only beaten."

  "That seems thoughtful for a Yellow Knife," said Cuwignaka.

  "He said it was a time of happiness and peace," I said.

  "He is obviously a civil chieftain," said Cuwignaka.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Or pretending to be," said Cuwignaka, carefully.

  "I am sore," I said.

  "He did not wish to have blood spilled," said Cuwignaka.

  "That seems so," I admitted.

  "Why?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "There might be many reasons," I speculated.

  "Perhaps he thought the spilling of blood might not be auspicious shortly before the opening of a council on peace," said Cuwignaka.

  "Perhaps," I said.

  "But, too," said Cuwignaka, "such an act might have called much attention to itself. People might inquire, for example, why it was done, what it was all about."

  I shrugged. "Perhaps," I said.

  "Why should Watonka and Iwoso have been so angry?" he asked.

  "I do not know," I said.

  "What was Bloketu's reaction?" he asked.

  "I do not think she wished to see harm come to me," I said.

  "This incident occurred just outside the council lodge," said Cuwignaka.

  "No," I said. "It occurred among the lodges of the Isanna."

  "But this happened recently, did it not?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "Yes," I said, "just a bit ago."

  "Watonka and the others were on their way to the council lodge?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "No," I said. "They seemed to be waiting, among the lodges."

  "This is very interesting," said Cuwignaka, cautiously. "One would think that they would have been on their way to the council, if not within the council lodge, by then."

  "Perhaps," I said. It was not clear to me what Cuwignaka was driving at.

  "The great men of the Kaiila should all be within the council lodge," said Cuwignaka. "Why not Watonka?"

  "Mahpiyasapa is not there either," I said. "He has gone off somewhere."

  "That is a different matter, I think," said Cuwignaka.

  "I think so," I said.

  "At the time for the council to begin," mused Cuwignaka, "Watonka seems in no hurry to be within the lodge."

  "That seems so," I said.

  "The lodge contains the great men of the Kaiila," said Cuwignaka, "but Watonka, and the Yellow Knives, are not there."

  "No," I said.

  "Tell me, my friend, Tatankasa," said Cuwignaka. "Does there seem anything unusual to you, today, about the camp? Is there anything noticeably different?"

  "The herds have been brought in, close to the camp," I said. "I saw one of the lads that commonly watches one of them, one of the girl herds. From him I learned, too, that the pickets and guards of the Isanna have been brought in."

  "On whose orders?" inquired Cuwignaka.

  "Watonka's," I said.

  "Why?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "I do not know," I said. "I suppose because it is a time of peace. It is the time of dances, of feasts and festivals. There is no danger. Tribes do not attack one another at such times."

  "True," said Cuwignaka, slowly. "It has been so for a hundred winters."

  "I was alarmed when I first learned this," I said, "but, I gather, you agree there is nothing to worry about."

  "The camp is exposed on the west," said Cuwignaka.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Why would Watonka do this?" he asked.

  "It is a time of peace," I ventured.

  "Also," said Cuwignaka, "presumably even a large war party would hesitate to attack a camp of this size."

  "Yes," I said.

  "When you saw Watonka, and the Yellow Knives," said Cuwignaka, "what were they doing? Think carefully."

  "Nothing," I said.

  "Think carefully," said Cuwignaka.

  "The Yellow Knives were standing in the vicinity of
a small, raised place, prominent among the Isanna lodges. On this small, raised place stood Watonka. On this small, raised place, too, was a stick, surrounded by two circles, a larger and a smaller. I take it that the measurement of time was being accomplished by this stick and the circles. The inner circle, I think, would have had the edge of the shadow reach it or fall within it about noon."

  "Interesting," said Cuwignaka.

  "Yes," I said. "Why would they not simply judge noon by the position of the sun?"

  "The stick is more accurate," said Cuwignaka. "Too, the shadow may be watched intently, as the sun may not be."

  "The council is to begin at noon," I said. "Doubtless they were interested in a more precise judgment of time than might be afforded by simple visual sightings."

  "Why?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "I do not know," I said. To be sure, this question seemed a sensible one. Red savages are not ordinarily concerned with such precise measurements of time.

  "Was there anything else that might have seemed unusual which you noted?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "One thing or another," I said.

  "What?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "Watonka seemed interested in watching the sky," I said.

  "The sky?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Did he watch the entire sky?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "No," I said. "He seemed interested in only one direction."

  "What direction?" asked Cuwignaka, alarmed.

  "The southeast," I said.

  "I am afraid, Tatankasa," said Cuwignaka. "I am very afraid."

  "Why?" I asked.

  "It is from the southeast that the Pte came," said Cuwignaka.

  "Yes?" I said.

  "They were early this year," said Cuwignaka. "The Pte were very early. They should not have come as early as they did."