Blood Brothers of Gor (29 page)

"May I call you 'Master'?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Master," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"When I was free, I was regarded as being very beautiful. Indeed, it was said by some that I was as beautiful, even, as a slave."

"A high compliment," I acknowledged. I recalled the first time I had ever seen her, on her curule chair, on her high cart, in the column of the Kurii and mercenaries. She had worn the robes of concealment, but only a wisp of diaphanous silk, presumably by intent, had feigned to hide her features. I recalled, even then, wondering what she might look like in the shimmering dancing silks of an enslaved female or, say, stripped and collared, crawling at men's feet.

"Master," she said.

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"Yes," I said.

How different, then, was that absurd pretense of a veil, that sweet diaphanous sheen of material, compared to the rude coarse sack which had now been tied over her head. How disgusting were the Waniyanpi.

"Surely I am no less beautiful now than I was then," she said.

"Perhaps," I granted her.

"And now I am a slave," she said.

"That is true," I said.

"Have me," she begged, suddenly. "Touch me. Caress me. Hold me. Take me!"

"But you are a Waniyanpi female," I said, "above sex. That has been decided by your masters."

"I am a slave," she said. "I need the touch of a man."

"But you have been rescued from sex," I said. "You have been accorded honor and dignity. You have been make identical to a certain form of male. That is supposed to be what you want. You are now, your nature betrayed and nullified, supposed to be happy and fulfilled."

"I am miserable," she wept.

"Interesting," I said.

"I am a woman," she said. "I need attention as a woman. Comfort me. Hold me. Be kind to me."

I did not speak.

"Whip me, beat me, if you wish," she said, "but pay attention to me as a woman. I am a woman. Let me, I beg you, be a woman."

"That is not permitted, as I understand it," I said, "to the Waniyanpi female."

"I have been put with the Waniyanpi," she said. "It was my punishment. But I am not one of them. Take pity on me. Have mercy on me. I am not truly a Waniyanpi female. I am a woman. I have the feelings of a woman. I want the sensations of a woman. I need the sensations of a woman. Have mercy on me, Master!"

"You do not now seem to be a proud agent of Kurii," I said.

"I am no longer an agent of Kurii," she said. "I am now only a female slave."

"And a pleading slave, it seems." I said.

"Yes," she said, "I am now only a pleading female slave."

I did not speak.

"I know, now," she said, "that I am not garbed attractively

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and that a sack has been put over my head but underneath these things I am a woman, with a woman's needs and desires. That cannot be concealed by all the lies and the corse, cruel cloth in the world. No shameful or pernicious raiment, no imposed masking of the features, no falsity of the tongue or mind can change what I am, a woman."

I did not speak.

"I strive to interest you," she said.

"It would not be good for me to accede to your request," I said. She must, after all, return to the compound of the Waniyanpi.

"You saw me stripped and in a yoke," she said, "tied to the axle of a wagon."

"Yes," I said.

"Am I not attractive?" she asked.

"You are," I said.

"And do you not find me attractive?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Have me," she said.

"It would not be wise," I said. I did not think it would be good for her.

"I beg to be put to your service, Master," she said.

"And if you were," I asked, "what would you fear?"

"Only that I might not please you sufficiently," she said.

"The answer is suitable," I said.

"Touch me, have me," she begged.

I did not respond to her.

"You are still here, are you not?" she asked, frightened, kneeling, reaching out. "You have not left me?"

"No," I said. "I am here."

"I have chewed sip root," she said, plaintively. "We women from the compound, dragging the travois, were all made to do that, to protect us should we be taken and raped by our masters."

"I understand," I said.

"You have nothing to fear," she said.

"I understand," I said. It would be difficult to explain to her, I conjectured, that my concern in this matter was not for myself, but for her. The memory of a man's touch, of any man's touch, I thought, would be a cruel souvenir for her to carry back to the compound. I did not think that memory would make the bleakness and loneliness of the compound easier to bear. It is better, perhaps, for one who must live on porridge never to know the taste of meat and wine. If one

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must live with the Waniyanpi, perhaps it is best to be of the Waniyanpi. It is, at any rate, safer. Sanity can be perilous in a country of lunatics.

"Please," she begged. "Touch me, hold me, let me know that men still truly exist."

"You surely, as a former free woman," I said, "have known the touch of men, their arms."

"But only on my own terms," she said, "never as what I am now, a slave."

"I see," I said. To be sure, perhaps it is only the female slave, the woman at the total mercy of a master, who can know, truly, what it is to be in the arms of a man, what it is, truly, helplessly, to feel their touch.

"Please," she said.

"You must be returned to the Waniyanpi," I said.

"Have me," she begged. "I will serve you even as a slave."

"What did you say?" I demanded.

"I will serve you even as a slave," she whispered timidly.

I seized her, cruelly, by the upper arms. I shook her once, viciously. "Oh!" she cried, in misery.

"You are a slave," I told her. I then shook her again, and flung her, viciously, to the dirt.

"Yes, Master!" she said, in the hood. "Yes, Master!"

"You are no longer a proud free woman," I told her. "You are now a slave, and only a slave! If you are used, of course, you will be used as the mere beast, and slave, you are!"

"Yes, Master!" she whimpered.

I looked down at her, angrily. Arrogance, even inadvertent arrogance, in a slave is not accepted. She lay on her side, in the dirt, her head in the hood. The gray dress had come up now, high on her right thigh. Her leg was beautiful. I clenched my fists, that I might not subject the frightened, lovely imbounded beast to the treatment suitable to her condition.

"Let me be a woman," she begged. "Let me be a woman!"

I considered the Waniyanpi. "It is against the law," I said.

I then lifted her up and threw her, she helpless and hooded, over my shoulder.

"I hate you, I hate you," she wept. "I hate you!"

I then carried her back to the shelter and put her, again, with her sisters, her harness mates, other females of the Waniyanpi.

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Chapter 15

HCI'S TRICK

"Behold!" said Hci. "In good faith do I greet you! In the time of the festivals, now, let us make good feelings between us."

"Greetings," said Canka, standing before his lodge.

Behind Hci were two of his fellows, of the Sleen Soldiers. One held a string of twenty kaiila.

"Denonstrating the warmth that is in my heart for you," said Hci, "I give you twenty kaiila!" He motioned for the fellow with the kaiila to come forward.

"Do not!" said Canka.

"They are yours!" cried Hci, with an expansive wave of his hand.

"I do not have twenty kaiila," said Canka. "I am not the son of a chief."

"You need not return me kaiila," said Hci, concernedly. "You will not lose honor, as yu know, if you return to me, in magnanimous reciprocity, something of comparable value."

"But what might I have of comparable value?" protested Canka, angrily. It seemed clear that he was to be outdone in the giving of gifts, in the display of generosity. Technically, of couse, Hci should not have offered gifts to Canka of a value which Canka could not repay. Such might shame or embarrass the recipient.

"Her," said Hci, pointing to Winyela, standing near the lodge entrance. "I will take her!"

Winyela turned white.

"No!" cried Canka. "I will not give her up! She is mine!"

"I have given you a gift of great value," said Hci, as though puzzled. "You will give me nothing in return?"

"You may not have her!" said Canka.

"Very well, my friend," said Hci. He looked about at his fellows, and the others, too, of which there were now several, about. He smiled broadly. "The kaiila, however, having been given, are yours. I do not regret my generosity. I regret only that yuo have taken so surly an attitude in this matter."

One of the Sleen Soldiers with Hci slapped his thigh with amusement. There was laughter, too, from others gathered

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about. More red savages, as if from nowhere, the word of Hic's visit to the lodge of Canka apparently having rapidly spread, appeared. There was now a crowd in front of the lodge.

"I have given Canka twenty kaiila," said Hci to the crowd. "In return he does not give me one she-kaiila." He pointed to Winyela.

There was laughter from the crowd.

"Take back your kaiila!" said Canka, angrily.

"How can that be done?" said Hci. "They have already been given."

"I give them back to you!" said Canka, in fury.

"Very well," said Hci, smiling. His fellow of the Sleen Soldiers tightened his grip on the lead rope.

"Hci is very clever," said Cuwignaka to me. "He knows Canka does not wish to surrender winyela. His caring for her is now well known in the camp. Even so, he did not put his plan into effect until after Canka had refused to give her to hsi father, Mahpiyasapa, for the Yellow Knives. If Canka would not surrender her to Mahpiyasapa he would not, of course, surrender her to Hci in an exchange of gifts."

"Hci, then," I said, "did not expect to obtain Winyela."

"Of course not," said Cuwignaka. "I do not even think he wants her. Sheis pretty but there are many pretty girls in camp. The Isanna have more than two hundred. Too, he may be the son of a chief, but he is still only a young man. He would not want to pay twenty kaiila for such a woman. For a young man that would be a crazy price to pay. She is only a white slave. A young man would not wnt to pay more than four or five kaiila for such a woman. Most white slaves go for a hide or less. Besides, after the cutting of his face, Hci has, for the most part, avoided the company of women, even slaves. Hci, I think, would rather kill Fleer and Yellow Knives than master slaves."

"He is then, risking nothing," I said.

"And, in shaming Canka, gaining a great deal," said Cuwignaka. "He is a clever fellow. I like him."

"I am sorry, my friend, Canka," said Hci, grinning, "that you have lost honor in this matter. I hope that you will forgive me. In a way it is surely my fault. It did not occur to me that, in making peace between us, I should not offer you splendid gifts. I never conceived of it being possible that you lacked the nobility and generosity of the Kaiila warrior. It is well that

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you are only of the All Comrades. Such as you would never be accepted in the Sleen Soldiers."

I tensed, for I feared that Canka would draw his knife and rush upon Hci. Hci, too, I think, was prepared for such an eventuality, and, I suspect, would have welcomed it. His knees were slightly flexed. His hand was near his knife sheath. Only too ready, I suspected, was Hci to submit the differences between himself and Canka to the arbitration of steel.

"Ho, ho!" suddenly laughed Cuwignaka, slapping at his leg. "Hci does not see the joke!"

Both young men looked at Cuwignaka as though he might have taken leave of his senses.

"It is a good joke, Canka," said Cuwignaka. "You have fooled him well. For a momnet even I was fooled!"

"What are you talking about?" said Canka.