Queen of the Panther World

by Berkeley Lingston

  “Ohh, Greatness . . .” the character on his knees babbled. “Save me from Haavah. Save me . . .”

  The women skidded to halt before us. The sounds of the screaming had brought others to their doors. I could see children huddled close to their father’s knees. From the houses closest to ours, several women strolled over in curiosity. But at sight of the guy on his knees before us and the scrawny babe who was standing with the club hanging limply from one hand, smiles broke on their lips. It was evident this story was not new to them.

  “Now what is it, Jimno?” Luria asked in disgust.

  “Haavah,” the man babbled in a bass voice which Ezio Pinza would have been proud to possess, “she beats me . . . I swear I have done nothing to deserve the beatings . . .”

  “He lies, the idiot,” the woman said. “In his teeth. Ten years we have been together. A simple thing like soup, and he burns it. It has become unbearable. I awake and it takes him a lifetime to make breakfast. Our children are the worst-dressed in the whole village. All he wants to do is sing . . .”

  “Now ain’t that too bad?” I said before Luria could say anything. “All he wants to do is sing, eh? Well, maybe we shouldn’t waste sympathy on him. After all, he’s so big and you’re so small. I’m sure if he ever decided to give you your lumps, you’d be in bed for a week. Of course, he might have a bit of peace . . .”

  “Quiet,” Luria spat at me in anger. “I give the orders and dispense the justice in these cases.”

  “Sure,” Hank said. “Close your trap. If we ever tell these characters that they’re living in a fool’s paradise they’ll tear these women limb from limb . . .”

  I swear that beautiful face turned livid in anger. She turned on Hank and slapped him right across the cheek. He went pale in anger and I saw his hands clench into bony fists. For the barest second I thought he was going to haul off and slug her. How he held back from doing it I don’t know. I’m sure I couldn’t have. Instead, he turned on his heels and went back into the house. It was a mistake. Because I observed that the guy on his knees had been watching. There was a bright light in his eyes when Hank talked up like he did. But when Hank did the disappearing act, the light died.

  The anger in Luria’s face went into her voice:

  “Haavah! We are becoming weary of this constant strife between you and Jimno. If it is true what you say and that you are as tired of it as you say, then haul him up before the bar of justice and have them sentence Jimno to the breaking of paarans to the halter . . .”

  A CHANGE came over the woman’s face at Luria’s words. It reflected fear and horror now.

  “Great Luria,” the woman bleated. “Not that.”

  “And why not?” Luria asked. “He is of little use to you. Further he causes nothing but trouble. He sings when he should be doing the housework, he burns the soup, lets the children run ragged and uncared for, is lazy and a dozen other things. You will be better rid of him . . .”

  “And he of her,” I put in.

  “But . . . the paavans. They have killed some who have tried to break them to the halter . . .”

  “So he’ll have a chance to prove he’s either man or mouse,” I said. “Certainly he’s big enough as a man. H’m. If I had you for a wife, I’d know who’d do the housework and care for the kids. We teach women differently on Earth . . .”

  “How is it done on Earth?” the man asked suddenly. He was still on his knees but his body was erect. And he was looking straight at me. So stunned were the two women by Jimno’s temerity in speaking to me without asking their permission, they could only stare.

  “She’d fit just right over your knee,” I said quickly. “A couple of smacks with one of those palms and she’d behave, believe me . . .”

  “Quiet, you!” Luria stormed.

  But Haavah wielded a more efficient means of silence. She raised her club and clouted Jimno across the back of the head. A ripple of laughter ran across the narrow circle which had formed about the woman and her husband, as the man folded up in middle and sank face downward to the ground.

  “Take him away,” Luria said. To the paavans’ compound. Let him break six of the beasts to the halter.”

  Suddenly I felt sick. Me and my big mouth. What had I done? Maybe I had sentenced a man to death? Anger whipped my voice to a frenzied shout: “So this is the stuff from which you want us to weld a fighting force? And how do you expect us to work it, by the women whipping their men to us?” From the corner of my eye I saw the man stir, shake his head and slowly get to his feet. Only I got the air of ominous quiet with which he moved. The rest watched him arise and an air of watchful waiting settled among the women. Dimly I felt someone standing by the door behind us. At the same time I realized that other doorways hid other watchers.

  The woman, called Haavah, waited only until Jimno stood erect. Then with a movement that was altogether at variance with her scrawny self, she leaped forward and swung the club at the same time.

  Man oh man, if I had ever been slugged like that I know I’d never have been able to duck that club. But he did. Then like a boxer who’d been hit hard and wanted to weather the storm, he ducked and weaved under and past the swinging club. The women thought the whole thing the funniest thing they’d ever seen. They laughed as the poor guy ducked, and once or twice they literally screamed in hysteria as the club barely missed the curly black hair.

  When he did move it was with the speed of a striking snake. One second he was under the club, the next his fingers had wrapped themselves around it. With one twist it was pulled from her. He chuckled deep in his throat as he tossed it to one side. He motioned her forward. She didn’t come so he stepped toward her. I yelled a warning as her hand sped to her belt. But he was speed personified as his hand beat hers to it. He twisted with an effortless movement of his wrist and her hand fell from the belt.

  It was his free hand which went toward the belt now. I saw a dozen hands go for weapons as his fingers went about the circle of leather. He yanked downward and the leather parted. This too he tossed to one side. All the while his right hand held her wrist prisoner.

  “Ten years, Haavah,” his voice lifted in a singing shout. “Ten years . . .”

  I’LL SAY this. Her face showed not the smallest sign of fear as he whirled her so that her back was to him. Then he had lifted her from her feet and dropping to one knee he laid her across that knee. She squirmed like a fish in a net and like that same fish found all her squirming without avail. His hand lifted and fell, palm downward. It lifted and fell. At first there was no sound but the heavy breathing of the two. But after the tenth whack on the woman’s posterior, a whimper fled her lips. The whimper became a moan which later became a sobbing sound. It was strange but not a woman stirred or spoke while he was administering the spanking. Nor did any lift a voice when he was done and said:

  “Go, woman, and prepare me food . . .”

  Jimno stood tall and proud and faced his queen.

  “The sentence still stands, Jimno,” she said. “Haavah will cook and keep your house afterward. Beating her proves nothing.”

  “It proves he is a man,” I said.

  “Not by your standards. My women and I too, have broken the paavans to the halter. Let him go and try to do it. Then we can talk of manhood . . .”

  “What is a paavan?” I asked.

  “Mokar is a paavan . . .”

  I turned and without a word went back into the house. I saw a shape slide into a passageway. I only got a glimpse of the figure. It was that of a man and the man was Hioa.

  Hank was deep in the sofa, cuddled up against one arm. He didn’t hear me come in what with the depth of the carpet and for another thing he was deep in thought. I slid into the opposite chair and waited for him to come out of his brown study.

  His eyes were bleak and bitter when he finally did turn. “Nice going, Sharpe,” he said aloud. But he wasn’t talking to me. He was talking to himself. “Now you can join the rest of the eunuchs . . .”

 
; “Aah, cut it out,” I said in disgust. “What the heck makes you that way. The gal’s nuts about you.”

  “Sure. Just like that scrawny dame was about her man. Luria’s probably been figuring in what womanly capacity I’d do best. Well, if she thinks I’m going to cook or scrub floors . . .”

  I knew there was one way of breaking Hank from his thoughts. He wasn’t the kind of guy who looked good playing cry-baby. For one thing he was too big a man and I don’t mean in size. But we had undergone a very strange and mystifying ordeal. Not that I’m such a big Joe about something like that. It’s just that I’m thicker-skinned. Besides, I had some long range plans, most of which had to do with a Lovah gal . . . So I gave him the business about my troubles:

  “. . . You got worries,” I broke in. “Your worries I should have . . .”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just sentenced a guy to maybe his death.”

  “Huh?”

  “Sure. I made with a yuck and those screwy dames, or rather, that screwy dame, Luria, sentenced the poor Joe to break Mokar’s buddies to the halter.”

  “She would,” Hank said sourly.

  “Yeah. And after he gave that silly frau of his a good tanning,” I said.

  “You mean the guy stood up for his rights?”

  “That he did.”

  “H’m. Then maybe all hope is not lost. Where’s Luria?”

  “Don’t ask me. I had to walk away from it all.”

  “What do you want?” her voice asked from the direction of the ramp.

  “One thing only, my pet,” Hank said. “What is it you want of us exactly?”

  “Just one thing. Teach my menfolk how to battle.”

  “Okay. But first teach your menfolk how to be men,” Hank said.

  And that was that for the evening or morning or whatever time it was in that land of eternal sun . . .

  THERE were twin beds in the sleeping rooms Luria had given us. Hank and I slept in our undies. When we awoke we awoke to find the rest of our garments gone. In their places were breastplates and helmets such as Captain Mita and the other men in Loko’s world, wore. We even had the long and short stickers to go in the belt that came with the metal apron that went over the short pants.

  “She doesn’t miss a trick,” Hank said wearily as he stepped into the modern bathroom adjoining our bedroom. I heard the splashing sound of water but I was too engrossed in putting on the uniform which had been provided for me. Nor was it a bad fit. The only thing large was the breastplate. Of course I realized after a try-on, they weren’t meant for a man.

  The bathroom had everything but razors. My beard which is of a dark texture anyway hadn’t known a blade’s touch for several days, in fact from the looks of it, for a week. I remembered then that the few men I’d seen were either smooth-shaven or were hairless on the face. Hank gave a last sputter and stepped up from the sunken shower. He was rubbing himself with a fuzzy towel.

  “Ain’t none. I looked. Guess no one shaves out here. How do they fit?”

  I did a double-take at the words, then grinned at him. He had guessed at my tardiness. I told him and he answered my grin.

  “Oh, well. Go on, take your shower. I’ll see you later.”

  He wasn’t in the room when I came back. Neither was his war garb. I donned mine and stepped out into the passage leading to the ramp. Here the bedrooms were on the lower floor. The two of them were already eating when I arrived. Hank gave me an okay sign with his thumb and index fingers, but the girl didn’t even look up. We ate in silence.

  “Well,” she said after a last drink of something that looked like coffee but tasted like something else only better, “now that we’re awake, suppose we get started?”

  “You bet,” I said, “and what does your greatness want us to do?”

  “. . . When we get there,” she threw over her shoulder as she started for the door.

  I gulped audibly when I saw what was awaiting us. Mokar and two of his brothers. Luria mounted her beast and looked to us. Hank and I did an Alponse-Gaston act for a couple of seconds, then with ill-concealed reluctance, stepped to the sides of our mounts. Those darned animals must have sensed our fear. As I started to lift my leg he turned his head and showed me his fangs.

  They were very pretty. I wondered who his dentist was, as I shied, but fast, from the spot I was in. Hank, on the other hand, had a lot more guts than I wanted to have. When his mount tried to pull a similar stunt, Hank cracked him over the nose. The beast’s head came up and sideways. Hank slapped him again and jerked at the halter. Instantly the panther obeyed. Then Hank slid in the saddle.

  And that left me on the ground.

  “Oh, come now, nimble-tongue,” Luria needled me. “We can’t spend all day here.”

  “We can’t?” I parried beautifully.

  She looked past me and I turned to follow her glance. Directly behind us were a dozen of the biggest women I’ve ever seen. Not a single one was under six feet in height. And all were armed. As though in answer to a signal, one of them jabbed at me with one of those ten feet-long spears they carried. It barely touched me, but that tip had a needle for a point. I yipped in pain and alarm. Then with a single leap I was in the shallow saddle. Teeth or no teeth, that spear was sharper.

  We hadn’t far to go. And after a while I got to rather like the ride. Those panthers ran like the wind and the movement didn’t have the up-and-down feeling of a horseback ride. Our destination was a valley. The valley was natural but it had been fenced in by a staked fence. There was a gate at the end we had arrived at. One of the warrior women dismounted and opened it. We rode in and found ourselves on a wide ledge overlooking the sheer drop to the almost circular valley below.

  I LOOKED about and saw that a long series of steps had been cut into the stone. Below us something was taking place which caught and held my attention. At the far end of the valley

  I made out the shapes of four panthers. Coming toward them were a dozen women. These women were armed with spears. Behind them, unarmed, walked Jimno. We could hear the women crying to the panthers, telling them to take it easy. The animals suddenly broke and raced around the valley floor. Not all of them I saw after a second. One of them had been cornered. And for the first time I saw what Jimno carried in his arms, a bridle and halter.

  I gasped when I realized what he was going to do, place them about the panther’s throat. I watched breathlessly his approach. The only thing the women did were hold the panther at bay with their spears. Jimno had to do the dirty work. And it was more than just dirty. It was dangerous. The beast snarled and showed its teeth. But I’ll say this for the man. He walked in like it was a big tabby he was going to p€t.

  Suddenly there was a swirl of motion.

  A small cloud of dust arose. When it cleared we saw that Jimno had succeeded in placing the halter where it belonged. But his task was half-done. Now he had to ride the panther. Like a centaur, Jimno leaped onto the animal’s back, kicked him in the ribs and began to work the reins. The animal snarled, turned his head to get at the man’s feet but was only rewarded by slaps across its nostrils and kicks in the ribs. I was reminded of a cowboy breaking in a bronc. And to carry the simile further, Jimno rode the panther back and forth across the floor of the valley until the panther obeyed the slightest touch of the reins and of the feet.

  The second and third beasts broke in as easily as the first. The fourth was another story. It was easily the largest of the four animals, even larger, I think than Mokar. It slapped the spears, once knocking down the woman who held one of them. If the others hadn’t rushed to her defense he would have torn her limb from limb.

  “Jimno had better be careful with this one,” Luria said. “He shows a wild spirit.”

  Jimno must have realized it also. His steps were far more careful. He walked daintily as though on eggs. The circle of spears opened to let him through. Sensing the helplessness of the man, the beast whirled to face him. Someone nearby was breathing in harsh, thro
aty gasps. It was me . . .

  Down below the drama was becoming more tense. Jimno moved forward slowly, carefully. The beast retreated until at last its back was against the wall. Then Jimno did something strange. He paused when only a few feet from the panther, shook his head and dropped the gear he was carrying. He paused there erect and unafraid, then stepped forward. Instantly, as though the beast had been awaiting Jimno’s action, he reared upward its front legs with those terrible claws open. And Jimno walked straight forward into the embrace.

  I tried to yell, tried to get something past the sandpaper which had suddenly lined my throat, but nothing came out. Even in the midst of terror, in circumstances which seem to hold one’s entire attention, there is part of one that is separate from the rest. So it was I somehow saw Hank’s and the girl’s reaction to what was going on below.

  Hank’s face was rigid, livid with the tense expectation of what was sure to happen to Jimno, and horror-stricken that he couldn’t help. Luria too showed emotion. Her’s rather was like a surgeon in an operating amphitheatre, watching a fellow surgeon at work.

  Below, Jimno walked into the panther’s embrace. But not to his death, as we were imagining. I don’t know how he did it, but suddenly Jimno ducked. He must have ducked a split second before the beast slashed at him. But Jimno ducked the blow. And like light Jimno used both hands to grasp the panther by the fur at the shoulder. Then setting his feet hard in the earth Jimno swung the panther about and leaped on its back.

  I COULDN’T help letting out a wild yell of delight. Nor was Hank far behind me with his cheer. Even Luria’s eyes shone in admiration. For Jimno now had the panther at a disadvantage. He was on the beast’s back, his fingers deep in the fur, his legs wound around the beast’s belly. Jimno’s right hand came up and delivered a terrific slap across the panther’s face. The beast reared his fore claws and legs trying to swipe in futile swings at the man on its back. The more the beast clawed the harder Jimno slapped. At last Jimno won out. With a last vicious blow, Jimno slid from the panther’s back and walked nonchalantly to where the women were standing.