by George Olney
Frenchy smiled brilliantly. Being asked by a band to dance was a high compliment among the Tribes. "Of course," she replied then waved a hand at her own bare figure. "I'm dressed for it.
"How about doing me a favor, though," she continued. "Let me sit out the first song so I can get a feel for your music." She was answered with a happy nod and a big grin. Both men returned to the others in their group and had what looked like a hurried discussion as they gathered their instruments.
Dallas had been following the short conversation and leaned over to ask Frenchy, "Okay, babe, so you're going to dance. I get that part. What was with the stripes on that guy's face?"
Grae overheard and answered for Frenchy. "Quite common for anyone that's tribal, Dallas, and it has meaning. Those bars mean that he's a hunt leader, the one that provided tonight's dinner. Paint's not always worn, though. Inside the Hold or in civilization, paint's seldom applied unless there's a specific reason."
Frenchy nodded. "It's almost a language of its own, babe, and I'm still learning it."
She stopped and got a thoughtful look on her face then leaned over to whisper something in Dallas's ear. Dallas nodded then settled back with an impish smile. Everyone knew that something had been hatched, but didn't ask by unspoken agreement. Both Grae and his parents wanted to see what was going to happen.
Soon enough, her band began to set up on stage. Mostly to keep someone else from spontaneously dancing, Frenchy walked towards the stage, waving as some of the people in the audience clapped. Once there, she sat on the edge of the stage, took off her shoes, and grinned at the puzzled expressions on people as she sat out the first song. By then, she had a feel for the band and the music. As the second piece of music began, she slowly, gracefully, rose to her feet. Whirling, she posed for a second then fell into the rhythmic sway of the song, her body curving and gracefully flowing with the melody.
Grae was fully aware his wife had never heard that band play before, much less heard the music. It didn't matter. It was as though it was written for her to dance to. Frenchy seemed to glow as her body interpreted the song in movement. He gave himself up to one of his greatest pleasures, watching her dance.
As the music finished and she whirled to a stop, Frenchy finished in another graceful pose then slowly straightened. It took her a moment to return from the trance she'd fallen into as she joined herself to the music. The loud applause and yells from the audience completed the recovery process. She waved again and motioned for quiet. "Thank you very much. I'm glad you liked it.
"Now I have a surprise for you. You've all seen my friend Dallas around the Hold and some of you have met her. What you don't know is that she's also a dancer. Dallas, why don't you come up and show them?"
Dallas, blushing furiously, made her way to the stage through the surprised, but enthusiastic crowd. She let Frenchy hand her up onto the stage, then squeezed the hand tightly for a second before she turned back to the surprised band leader as Frenchy backed off to one side. She grinned for a second at the guy's stunned expression, then made a little wave to say it was time to get back to business. "Okay, guys," she said to the musicians, "let's do this."
The leader conferred with his fellow musicians for a moment, then began a lively set of chords on his guitar-like instrument. As the keyboard kicked in, Dallas crouched slightly, arms cocked, bouncing and rocking her shoulders in time to the lively melody. As the first chorus kicked in, Dallas threw her arms outward and began to whirl, spinning in a wide circle. Suddenly, she kicked outward in a leap and began to whirl again, adding a short leap after every turn then changing to flow elegantly back and forth. Like Frenchy, she was reading and interpreting the music with her body, the personification of the song, her short form seeming to elongate with every sinuous move.
Grae found himself fascinated. Oh, he felt Dallas wasn't quite as good as Frenchy, but the difference wasn't all that great and her performance was far better than anyone in the Hold could even approach. Dallas wasn't kidding or exaggerating in the slightest when she said she was a trained dancer. By the time that girl finished, she was going to be regarded as one of the best dancers anyone had ever seen. Frenchy, he thought smugly, was the best.
Finally, the music ended. Dallas wasn't in the zone like Frenchy when she danced, but she loved the chance to move to the music and she loved the enthusiastic applause when she finished. It was great to be back on the stage - buck naked or not. At least they weren't staring at her tits.
She was surprised when a big ugly gorilla with the most improbable mustache and dagger beard she'd ever seen stood up from the crowd. It was Jongular. "Dallas," he yelled theatrically, "would you and Frenchy dance to my music? It would truly be a match of momentous proportions!"
After a quick check to get an affirmative nod from her friend and another check to get permission from the band leader on stage, Dallas yelled back, "Sure! Come on up, big guy. Let's see what you can do."
During the shuffle of changing bands and instruments, Frenchy joined Dallas and wearing a big grin. "Old times, babe," she said.
Dallas returned the grin. "Old times."
"My gratitude to you both," Jongular said as he set up. "Our audience will experience a truly special performance. With your dancing and my music, how could it be otherwise?"
"Easily," Frenchy replied with a wry smile. "You do your part, buddy, and we'll try to do ours."
Jongular picked up his guitar/banjo and gave her a cheerful confident smile. Then he started to play the same song the women had danced to back in Seelah. Frenchy and Dallas grinned widely at each other and scampered to opposite ends of the stage.
"He-e-ey, babe!"
"He-e-ey, babe!"
The two began prancing towards each other, just as they had the first time they'd danced to that song. This time, they had a live band and an audience that wasn't focused on the fact they were nude. Both women really began to totally enjoy themselves and their dancing reflected it. Dallas let herself go to the music, secure in the knowledge that Frenchy was going to compliment every move she made in the well-worn routine. Prancing, clapping, bumping hips, both of them were thoroughly enjoying themselves. When she took an instant to think, Dallas realized they were doing what she earlier said they were going to do, be buck naked and have a blast on the stage.
The second song was just as lively and just as full of Jongular's jangly chords. Standing next to each other, Frenchy and Dallas bounced in time to the beat then began high stepping in opposite directions into a series of turns and whirls. The dance was another old routine, smoothly done and utterly fun to the dancers. As the song's bridge approached, Dallas caught Jongular out of the corner of her eye, striding forward. She spun to one side a few feet, confident that Frenchy was doing the same in the opposite direction.
Jongular stepped into the space left between the dancers as though the whole thing was planned and rehearsed. Once there, he reared back like a hard rock star in the middle of a major concert and belted forth a virtuoso performance on his instrument, sending his music ringing and chasing through all corners of the gathering room. His music didn't dominate the dancers; instead it drove them to greater exertions and their own performance became that much more special.
Whirling to a final climax at the song's end, Frenchy and Dallas met at the front of the stage and clasped hands then bowed to the yelling, cheering audience. As the applause grew louder, Dallas straightened and waved Jongular to join them.
Throughout both songs, Jongular had been watching the small redhead, utterly entranced. He'd never seen such a dancer! To him Dallas's big blonde partner was secondary, a compliment necessary to set off one of the finest dancers he'd ever seen, much less performed with. It was Dallas that inspired him to that extraordinary effort at the song's bridge. Normally, he stayed with his band and simply led. This exotic woman had driven him to powerful heights! As he came forward to accept his salute from the audience, he felt uncharacteristically humble. Dallas was turning him into a star!
Right then, he made a decision that was perfectly normal for a tribesman. He simply could not let Dallas get away from him!
On reaching the two women, he reached down with his left arm and grabbed Dallas around the thighs, rising to hold her like a small child seated on his arm, then waved to the audience again. After a second's shock, Dallas grinned and waved also, drawing as much laughter as applause. Then he walked off the stage, still carrying her, and began to casually stride towards the door.
As Frenchy watched Jongular walk off calmly carrying Dallas she was confused and a bit stunned like everyone else in the room. What was going on here? Dallas didn't feel there was any problem. She was waving to everyone with one hand, meanwhile holding Jongular with an arm around his neck to keep herself steadied. The big gorilla was certainly strong enough to comfortably walk while holding her in his left arm, that was for certain.
It was when she saw Grae suddenly stand up and rapidly head for the pair that she began to get worried. Grae had a purpose and it behooved her to find out just what it was. She hopped off the stage and cut through the audience in the direction where Grae was going to meet Jongular.
When she got there, Grae was blocking Jongular's path and wearing the smile that said someone was about to be seriously hurting if something didn't change - rapidly. "Jongular," he said calmly, "you know this sort of thing is discourteous in a Hold where you are a guest."
"What the hell is he doing?" Frenchy asked urgently.
"Carrying her off, mistress," Grae replied, his eyes never leaving Jongular. "A bit old fashioned, but still valid by Custom. Unfortunately, I'm not about to allow him to do it, especially with Dallas."
"Well, it's worth a try," Jongular replied with a grin. "This woman was meant to be mine."
Dallas turned a confused look at Frenchy's thunderous face. "What the hell does he mean, babe?"
"Possession, babe," Frenchy replied with gritted teeth. "You were going to be in bondage to him like I was to Grae. That is, if the bastard got away with carrying you off."
"Oh." Dallas's voice was thoughtful. She looked down at the rueful grin Jongular turned up at her. Then her right hand came up and slapped him on the ear. Hard. Her other hand came across and hit the other ear. Painful, but not damaging since she hadn't cupped her hands and hit him on both ears simultaneously.
"Ow!" Jongular dropped Dallas and bent over in pain.
As he straightened, Frenchy was suddenly in front of him. "You son of a bitch!"
Her right cross caught him on the side of his chin and laid him out flat. Grae winced. He remembered that right cross.
Jongular lay on the floor, shaking his head slowly from the force of the blow and unevenly trying to stagger upright. Frenchy's fighting posture plainly said she was perfectly prepared for him to stand, at which point he was going to be back on his ass again.
"Daughter, daughter, daughter!" It was Grete. Coming up next to Frenchy, she continued. "Child, listen to thine mother. 'Tis never proper to strike a guest and allow him to regain his feet, whilst plotting to do him the same mischief yet again."
She kicked the still floored Jongular firmly in his midsection, doubling him up on the ground then turned to her adopted daughter. Gasping and whooping sounds from the floor ensued. "Dear girl, hear your mother's wisdom. When you have such as he on the ground, never let him arise."
Frenchy grinned. "You got it, Mom!"
By this time, Weykhaz was part of the small group surrounding the still curled up and gasping Jongular. Looking at the man on the floor, he nodded his approval at his wife's kick. "Jongular, you are ejected from this Hold. Leave immediately."
He gave Grete a wry look. "If you don't," he added to the now semi-recovered musician, "I'll let the ladies continue then Grae and I will finish the job. Understand?"
Jongular nodded with a great deal of effort, obviously trying not to vomit at the same time, as he shakily resumed his feet. Weykhaz signaled at a couple of young men from the audience, who came up and each grabbed him under an arm. Thereupon, both frog-marched him out of the gathering room, presumably to his temporary quarters for the purpose of packing to leave in a hurry. Big hurry.
"I apologize for this incident, Dallas," Weykhaz said formally to Dallas. "Jongular overreached himself and forgot the courtesy required of a guest. He won't be back."
Dallas gave him a smile of thanks, then turned a slightly amazed look at the departing Jongular plus dedicated escorts. "I knew I made an impression," she said with a little bit of wonder in her voice. "I guess it was a big impression."
Frenchy was still scowling at the door where Jongular plus assistants had departed. "Big impression, babe. Bastard!
"I told you the boys played rough here."
"Yeah," Dallas replied thoughtfully, "and you also told me it was a good place to really learn to live. I guess this was part of it."
Her bemused voice still had a bit of wonder in it. "I never had anybody try to carry me off before.
"Wow."
Chapter 8
Flying into the port was a friendly enough trip, Frenchy decided, even if she was still a bit miffed at Dallas. For that matter, she was far more than just a little miffed at Jongular. The nerve of that creep! Trying to kidnap her best friend! Of course, the Tribes saw it as a conventional method to start a more permanent relationship, but she sure didn't see it that way! And Dallas was just as bad, with her occasional softly muttered, "Nobody ever tried to carry me off before..."
The aforesaid statement was always stated in quietly bemused tones accompanied by a wondering expression. The statements and expressions tended to notch up Frenchy's ire just that little bit more every time Dallas came out with them.
Frenchy finally decided to just let it go. Jongular was now on his way to somewhere else and good riddance. Dallas was just having a little fit of the romantics after her first experience with one of the more objectionable tribal customs. Idly, she wondered if Jongular was as smitten with Dallas as he proclaimed. His headlong dive into a romantic relationship - the real purpose of bondage - was typical of tribesmen. Those boys - including Grae and Weykhaz - fell hard and fast if they saw a woman they really liked. She mentally shrugged, then decided to forget that, too. Today was for business and showing Dallas around the Port. Neither one of them looked like a Lycanth native, but they were both wearing leathers for the trip. Just more convenient and it cut down on questions about origins. Ought to make the fact they were tourists a little less obvious.
A thought about "her" little boy intruded, and Frenchy had to smile. In what Frenchy had to admire as common sense and a real understanding of a child's psychology, the school was always off the day after the camping trip, so Nos was "home" today. He came back from his overnight camping trip dirty, a little worse for wear, and absolutely exhausted. He'd been up all night, along with most of the kids his age. It was his first experience with that sort of shenanigans and he loved it. In fact, he loved it so much he wouldn't shut up about the camping trip until he was packed off to shower and bed at Grandmom's place. Grete - doing the Grandmother thing with her usual enthusiasm - would be perfectly happy to take care of the boy once he finally woke. Frenchy, with more than a little humor, suspected there were sleeping youngsters all over the Hold right now. No wonder the kids loved the Seventhnight camping trip.
Frenchy stopped ruminating about her best friend and her ward as Grae gently brought the sled to a landing at one of the public parking spots outside the massive mallplex dome holding the Arm's Lycanth office. Dallas almost gaped at the huge eighty story dome then looked around to see others on the city skyline, matched by soaring towers. "You've seen Seelah, babe," Frenchy said with a trace of amusement, "but they tended to build lower buildings. Port Baelth goes up."
Dallas nodded thoughtfully, still looking. "I can see that, babe. Any idea why?"
Grae spoke up as he took some things from the sled's cargo compartment. "The Port's the only galactic city allowed on the planet by treaty
with the Tribes. The same treaty also restricts the area it can cover. Every so often, we have to increase its area, but we still want the Port limited. Lycanth belongs to the Tribes and we want it kept that way."
He slung his five foot sword across his back, handed Frenchy her ax belt, and Dallas the belt holding her club. The little redhead wasn't in Frenchy's league with her own weapon yet, but progressing nicely. While Grae distributed sundry arms, Frenchy programmed a baggage robot to have the rest of their stuff taken to their hotel suite. Looking at the other two, she said, "We're fixed up. Let's go see Locar, guys. Dallas, I hope you won't mind waiting in the outer office while we report in. There's plenty to do in the mallplex, but it might be better to let us introduce you to everything first."
Dallas nodded agreement. "No problem. Especially if there're some old magazines I can read."
"Ought to be a text reader or something," Frenchy responded, then followed Grae into the pearl colored side of the dome. As they walked through the apparently solid side of the huge building, Frenchy commented, "They use opaque static fields, just like Seelah. Helps keep the temperature stable, too."
"Uh... yeah," Dallas replied. She was frankly gawking at the interior of the immense dome. It was open in the middle, horizontally divided into galleries that marched up the sloping inside, seemingly forever. The whitish opaque static fields on the far side of gallery railings were actually the front walls or doors of offices.
Frenchy had to smile to herself. Dallas was reacting the same way she had when she first entered this dome over a year ago. When Dallas finally dropped her eyes to the dome's main level and saw the plants, softly lighted decorations, and the large pond or small lake that filled the center of the floor, Frenchy's smile broke out into the open. Dallas was even reacting the same way she had to the lake, to include the swimmers - sans suits - that were enjoying the pond.