Blood Brothers of Gor

by Norman, John;

  The girl, squirming, looked wildly up at me.

  "Come along," I said to Cuwignaka and Wasnapohdi.

  We left the girl behind us, whimpering. She would stay where she was. Later her new master, if he remembered, would return for her, to claim her. If he did not she was, in any case, clearly marked. When the loot was sorted out it would be at his feet that she would be placed.

  * * * *

  "Be quiet," I whispered. "There are others here. This is obviously a collection point."

  "How horrifyingly they treat us," gasped Wasnapohdi. "How horrifyingly they tie us, and put us about, as though we might be cord wood."

  Even as she spoke a white slave girl, naked, her hands bound behind her, running before a kaiila, stumbling, prodded by the butt of a lance, was herded into that crowded place between the lodges. She fell among the other women. Some cried out as the kaiila stepped among them. The girl's captor dismounted and put his lance down. He then turned the girl to her back and, among the other bound women, threw her legs apart. She cried out, his will imposed upon her. He then threw her to her stomach and, with a short leather strap, bound her ankles together. He then turned her about, and jerked her to her knees, facing him. She was shuddering, and could scarcely utter articulate sounds. He then took a small leather sack from his belt and spit into it. He dipped his finger into the sack and, pressing it firmly down in the sack, swirled it about. He then put the sack down. On his finger was black paint. The pigment is fixed in kailiauk grease. He held her steady with his left hand behind her shoulder and, with his finger, traced a mark on her left breast. He looked at it, and then wiped his finger on his thigh and replaced the sack at his belt. She looked down at the mark. It was the mark of her master. She was then, by the hair, thrown down among the other women. The man retrieved his lance and then, swiftly, remounted his kaiila. In a moment he had left the place. The woman lay on her back, with the others, left behind. On her left breast, in black paint, was an identificatory mark. Most of the others there, too, wore such marks, but, in their cases, the marks were different.

  "Some of these women," I said to Cuwignaka, "are red, doubtless former free women of the Kaiila."

  "Women are born to serve men," said Cuwignaka.

  Some of the women, though only a few, were marked not with paint, but with tags, devices of wire with an attached leather disk. The wire is thrust through an ear lobe or the septum and twisted shut, thus fastening the tag on the female.

  "Do you think that is true, Wasnapohdi?" I asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said, lowering her head. "I think so."

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Our deepest fulfillments," she said, "are found in obedience, service and love."

  "But are these not the primary duties required of the female slave?" I asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "It thus seems," I said, "that there is some sort of interesting relationship between the achievement of female fulfillment and the harsh institution of uncompromising female slavery."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  I smiled.

  "But we would like to choose our masters," she said.

  "Unfortunately," I said, "that is not possible."

  "I am a female slave," she said. "I am well aware of that, Master."

  "Sometimes, perhaps," I said, "a woman must find herself at the feet of the very man whom she would have chosen, had she had the choice, as her master."

  "Perhaps, Master," she said. "But even if she is not so fortunate as to be owned by such a man, there is a gratification for her in being made to kneel and obey, and, will-lessly, serve, a gratification connected with the fulfillment of her nature as lover and slave, and connected, too, with the knowledge that she is now at last in her place in nature, and will be kept there."

  "I see," I said.

  "Too," she said, "it is hard not to fall in love, eventually, with one who is one's master."

  "That makes it easier, of course, to control the girl," I said.

  "Doubtless, Master," she said, I thought with a trace of bitterness.

  Bondage, I thought, must, doubtless, sometimes, be a hard lot for a female. Even whether a girl is clothed or not is up to the master.

  "Do you think these women," I asked, surveying the trussed women at the collection point, "will make good slaves?"

  "Any woman," she said, "with the proper master, will make a superb slave."

  "Look upon them," I said. "You see them nude, helpless and bound, thrown together as the mere properties they are."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Doubtless you feel keen pity for them," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said. "Master!"

  I held her so that she could not move. My hand was upon her.

  "But you are aroused, Wasnapohdi," I told her.

  "Yes, Master," she whispered.

  "Why is it," I asked, "that the sight of one female in bondage makes another desire to be placed in the same condition!"

  "I do not know, Master," she said.

  "Do you desire to be nude, and bound among them?" I asked.

  "No, Master," she said. "I am already with masters."

  "I am not a master," said Cuwignaka.

  "Is he a master?" I asked Wasnapohdi. She was a female. She might be able to tell such things.

  "There is that in him which could be a master," said Wasnapohdi. "I sense it."

  "I wear the dress of a woman," said Cuwignaka. "I will not even fight."

  "There is in you that which could be a master," said Wasnapohdi. "I can sense it."

  "That is absurd," said Cuwignaka.

  "It is you who must decide," she said.

  "Look at these women," I said to Cuwignaka. "Many of them are former free women of the Kaiila. Many men, as they are of their own people, regardless of what would be in the best interest of the women, would fight to free them. In such matters they would not consider what would make the women most happy but rather would take their enslavement, irrationally, as being somehow demeaning or insulting to them personally. Thus, for their own vanity, really, in the final analysis, they would fight to free them. Too, sometimes men who desire to own slaves but are themselves too weak to do so, or, because of rigidities or cripplings, are psychologically incapable of doing so, will, out of envy, jealousy and spite, fight to free them, in order to deny others the pleasures which they, because of their handicaps and inhibitions, cannot grant to themselves. If I, for one reason or another, cannot have these extraordinary pleasures, then neither, too, shall anyone else, so to speak. What I want and cannot have I will deny to others, so to speak. Moral fervor is often the outcome of inadequacy. Happy men do not make good zealots. Once again, of course, the best interests of the women, and whatever might be their true nature, are not considered. They, as usual, though putatively the objects of these wars, are the forgotten ones. All women know that truly strong-drive men desire to own them; a male with strong drives will never be truly content with anything else. Truth is not terrible; it is merely real."

  Cuwignaka looked at me, not speaking.

  "But will you not fight for these women, even for reasons of vanity?" I asked.

  "No," he said. He shook his head. "I do not want to fight. I cannot fight. I am sorry, my friend, Tatankasa. I cannot fight."

  "I cannot make you couch a lance," I said. "I cannot put a knife into your hand."

  "I am sorry, Tatankasa," he said.

  "Let us go," I said. "We must try to make the center of camp."

  * * * *

  "It is the dance lodge," I said.

  To our right was the great, circular brush lodge. It was some forty feet in height. It enclosed a packed-down dancing space of some fifty feet in diameter. It was ceilinged with poles and branches. In the center of the lodge, visible now through a hole torn in the brush, was the tall, slim, peeled, twice-forked pole which, days ago, Winyela had felled. The paraphernalia of the dance, with the exception of some long, narrow, braided ropes, had bee
n removed from the pole. The pole itself had apparently been attacked with hatchets and knives. It was marked and gashed. From the sides of the dance lodge huge gouts of brush had been torn away. It was through these gaps that Yellow Knives had perhaps entered the lodge. Inside, in several places, the dust was bloodstained. In places, marked by successions of linear stains, and marks in the dust, bodies had apparently been dragged from the lodge. This, presumably, would have been done later by Kaiila.

  "This place, as I understand it," I said, "is holy to your people. It has been desecrated."

  Cuwignaka shook his head. "I cannot fight," he said.

  * * * *

  "Do not look down," I warned Cuwignaka. "It will disturb you."

  "Tatankasa!" he said.

  "I have seen it," I said. "Come along."

  But Cuwignaka knelt down among the dead. He lifted the small body in his arms.

  "Let us go," I said.

  "It is only a child," he said.

  Wasnapohdi averted her eyes. She looked sick. It was not pretty.

  "We knew him," said Cuwignaka.

  "There is the mother," I said.

  "We knew him!" said Cuwignaka.

  "Yes," I said. He had been a lad from among the Kaiila. He was well known to both Cuwignaka and myself. We had thrown the hoop for him many times, he then firing his small arrows through it. In the camp he had been known by the names of Hala and Owopte. 'Hala' is Kaiila for the Gorean hinti, which are small, active insects. They resemble fleas but are not parasitic. The boy had been small for his age, and energetic. There is no simple translation for 'Owopte' but, literally, it means the place from which a turnip is dug. He had used to go out with his mother to dig turnips when he had been a little boy. That was a pet name which she had given him. He had been fond of the vegetable. He had not lived long enough to choose a suitable adult name for himself.

  "He is dead," said Cuwignaka.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Why have they done this to him?" asked Cuwignaka, rocking the body in his arms.

  "I do not know," I said. I could understand, to some extent, the stripping, the cutting and slashing, the mutilation, the cutting and uprooting of bloody trophies, where male adults, warriors, were concerned. In a sense it was a celebration of relief, of life, of victory, of jubilation and triumph. It did not make much sense to me where women or children were concerned. Confirming my suspicions in this matter, it might be noted that many warriors will usually reserve such grisly attentions, with the exception of scalping, for adult, enemy males. Too, such things are more common with younger warriors than mature warriors. There are many putative explanations for these practices, having to do with such things as insulting the enemy, terrorizing others and even delaying or interfering with the deceased's entrance into, or activities within, the medicine world, but I suspect that the deepest, least rationalized explanations lie in the vicinity of the ventilation and expression of emotions such as hatred, relief and elation, of joy, gladness and triumph. Such practices among most peoples are not as institutionalized as among the red savages but I think that those who know war, on whatever remote fields, will not find themselves unfamiliar with the counterparts of such practices. They are not restricted to the grasslands east of the Thentis mountains. They are not unknown outside of the Barrens.

  "He is only a child," said Cuwignaka, rocking the body, pressing his cheek against the affronted head, the exposed bone, the lacerated, bloody skin. "Why have they done this?"

  "I do not know," I said.

  "Yellow Knives have done this," he said.

  "Maybe those called the Kinyanpi," I said. "I do not know."

  "Enemies have done this," said Cuwignaka.

  "Yes," I said.

  Cuwignaka put the body down, carefully. He then looked at me. "Teach me to kill," he said.

  23

  Cuwignaka and the Slave

  "Down," I whispered.

  We lay behind the lodge. Five Yellow Knives, in single file, astride kaiila, moved quickly past. As the last one passed I stepped out behind them. The strike must be below the left shoulder blade. It must be made swiftly enough for the carrying force of the small bow not to be dissipated; it must be made from a distance sufficient, given the spacing of the riders and the sound of the kaiila's paws, to cover the sound of the string. I then fitted another arrow to the string.

  "They will not know for a time that they are now only four," I said.

  "Leave it," I said. But Cuwignaka was at the body. "I do not want it," I said. Cuwignaka thrust it in his own belt, dark and bloody against the white cloth of the dress he wore.

  "We need kaiila," I said.

  "We will get them," said Cuwignaka.

  * * * *

  "Oh!" cried the woman, one of two, nude and bound, sitting on the ground, their legs widely apart.

  The Yellow Knife with them whirled about but only to meet Cuwignaka's lance.

  The woman screamed. Cuwignaka jerked his lance free. She began to sob, frightened, hysterical. "Be silent, Slave," snarled Cuwignaka. She looked up at him, frightened, sobbing. He struck her alongside the head with the shaft of his lance. Such things slaves understand. Her outburst might have alerted other Yellow Knives. Her blubbering, too, might convey to them that something unusual had occurred. She lay on her side in the dirt. She looked up once at Cuwignaka and then, quickly, averted her eyes from his. He was looking down at her, angrily. She trembled. Whereas a free woman may often make a man angry with impunity, she being lofty and free, this latitude is seldom extended to the slave. When a slave makes a man angry she knows that there may very well be consequences to her action, that she, vulnerable and owned, subject to discipline and punishment, may very well be held to account, and, indeed, is quite likely to be held to account, and strictly, for any dissatisfaction which she may have engendered.

  "There are no kaiila here," I said. I was not clear why Cuwignaka had stopped here.

  "This either has been, or is intended to be, a collection point," said Cuwignaka. He gestured to the two women, one sitting on the ground, her legs widely apart, the other lying on her side, her arms, too, in their particular tie, largely between her legs.

  "You think, then," I said, "that girls are either to be brought to this place, or are to be taken from this place?"

  "Yes," said Cuwignaka, "and judging from the tie, which does not suggest that they are soon to be marched away, I would think they are being brought to this place."

  "I see," I said. Thusly, presumably men would come with kaiila, either to bring more women, or to herd these away. We, then, would be waiting for them. "We should not be waiting too closely to this spot," I said, "for those coming in may be looking for the guard."

  "We will look for tracks," said Cuwignaka. "I do not think it will be difficult."

  "It is interesting that there was a guard here," I said. There had not been one at the other point.

  "That indicates, I think," said Cuwignaka, "that we may, at last, be closer to the center of Kaiila resistance."

  "It is some five Ahn until dark," I said.

  "By that time it is my hope to have kaiila and join with the resistance," said Cuwignaka.

  I nodded. If a flight from the camp, with refugees, was to be made, presumably it would be most effectively conducted after dark.

  "You should be sitting up," said Cuwignaka to the girl lying on her side. The side of her face bore a long welt from where she had been struck with the lance shaft. "It will look more natural."

  "Yes, Master," she whispered.

  Cuwignaka looked at me, puzzled, and then smiled. How naturally the female had used the expression 'Master' to him.

  "I think you are right about the tie," I said.

  "Yes," he said. We looked at the two women, now both sitting, with their legs apart. It is an efficient tie. It is known to the slavers of the cities, and to the men of the cities, of course, as well as to the savages of the Barrens. The girl is made to sit down, with her legs apart. She is
then made to put her arms inside her legs. The left wrist is then taken under the left leg and placed against the outside of the left ankle, where, on the outside of the ankle, it is tied tightly in place. The right wrist is then treated similarly, passing under the right leg and being tied tightly on the outside of the right ankle. This makes the girl quite helpless. It also makes it impossible for her to close her legs.

  Neither of the girls dared to meet our eyes. They looked down, frightened.

  The conjecture of Cuwignaka with respect to their tie and its significance was as follows: Normally, when a woman is brought to a collection point or holding area she is either herded there or led there on a tether. In either case her legs are free. Since her wrists will usually have been bound behind her back at the time of her capture, particularly if she is a new capture, all that remains to be done in the holding area, thus, is to throw her to the ground and put her in a quick ankle-tie. This ankle tie, then, if she is to be moved in the near future, may swiftly be removed and she, already hand-bound, is promptly ready again for the tether or the blows of her herder. The more elaborate ties of the two girls at this point suggested, then, that women were being brought to this point, rather than being taken from it. For example, to take a woman from this point would require two separate operations rather than one. She would have to be freed of her present bonds and then have her hands retied. The ties of the women at this point suggested, too, that they were being readied not for an imminent transfer to another location but for the pleasure of warriors. Their ties, thus, were an indication of the confidence and arrogance of the enemy.