Nomads of Gor (31 page)

     
began to bound rapidly towards us.

     
"Treachery!" I cried.

     
There was nothing living on Gor I knew that could take

     
the impact of a tharlarion charge.

     
Elizabeth Cardwell screamed, throwing her hands before

     
her face.

     
To my astonishment the warriors of the Wagon Peoples

     
seemed to be paying very little attention to the bestial ava-

     
lanche that was even then hurtling down upon them. Some

     
were haggling with the vendors, others were talking among

     
themselves.

     
I wheeled the Kaiila, looking for Elizabeth Cardwell, who,

     
afoot, would be slain almost before the tharlarion had

     
crossed the lines of the stakes. She was standing facing the

     
charging tharlarion, as though rooted to the earth, her hands

     
before her face. I bent down in the saddle and tensed to kick

     
the kaiila forward to sweep her to the saddle, turn and race

     
for our lives.

     
"Really," said Kamchak.

     
I straightened up and saw that the lines of the tharlarion

     
lancers had, with much pounding and trampling of the earth,

     
with shouting, with the hissing of the great beasts, stopped

     
short, abruptly, some fifteen yards or so behind their line of

     
stakes.

     
"It is a Turian joke," said Kamchak. "They are as fond of

     
the games as we, and do not wish to spoil them."

     
I reddened. Elizabeth Cardwell's knees seemed suddenly

     
weak but she staggered back to us.

     
Kamchak smiled at me. "She is a pretty little barbarian,

     
isn't she, he said.

     
"Yes," I said, and looked away, confused.

     
Kamchak laughed.

     
Elizabeth looked up at us, puzzled.

     
I heard a cry from the Turians across the way. "The

     
wenches!" he cried, and this shout was taken up by many of

     
the others. There was much laughing and pounding of lances

     
on shields.

 
In a moment, to a thunder of kaiila paws on the turf,

 
racing between the lines of stakes, scattering sand, there came

 
a great number of riders, their black hair swirling behind

 
them, who pulled up on their mounts, rearing and squealing,

 
between the stakes, and leaped from the saddle to the sand,

 
relinquishing the reins of their mounts to men among the

 
Wagon Peoples.

 
They were marvelous, the many wild girls of the Wagons,

 
and I saw that chief among them was the proud, beauteous

 
Hereena, of the First Wagon. They were enormously excited,

 
laughing. Their eyes shone. A few spit and shook their small

 
fists at the Turians across the way, who reciprocated with

 
good-natured shouts and laughter.

 
I saw Hereena notice the young man Harold among the

 
warriors and she pointed her finger imperiously at him, gestur-

 
ing him to her.

 
He approached her. "Take the reins of my kaiila, Slave,"

 
she said to him, insolently throwing him the reins.

 
He took them angrily and, to the laughter of many of the

 
Tuchuks present, withdrew with the animal.

 
The girls then went to mingle with the warriors. There

 
were between a hundred and a hundred and fifty girls there

 
from each of the four Wagon Peoples.

 
"Hah!" said Kamchak, seeing now - the lines of thar-

 
larion part for a space of perhaps forty yards, through which

 
could be seen the screened palanquins of Turian damsels,

 
borne on the shoulders of chained slaves, among them un-

 
doubtedly men of the Wagon Peoples.

 
Now the excitement of the throng seemed mostly to course

 
among the warriors of the Wagon Peoples as they rose in

 
their stirrups to see better the swaying, approaching palan-

 
quins, each reputedly bearing a gem of great beauty, a fit

 
prize in the savage contests of Love War.

 
The institution of Love War is an ancient one among the

 
Turians and the Wagon Peoples, according to the Year

 
Keepers antedating even the Omen Year. The games of Love

 
War, of course, are celebrated every spring between, 80 to

 
speak, the city and the plains, whereas the Omen Year occurs

 
only every tenth year. The games of Love War, in them-

 
selves, do not constitute a gathering of the Wagon Peoples,

 
for normally the herds and the free women of the peoples do

 
not approach one another at these times; only certain dele-

 
gations of warriors, usually about two hundred from a peo-

 
ple, are sent in the spring to the Plains of a Thousand Stakes.

     
The theoretical justification of the games of Love War,

     
from the Turian point of view, is that they provide an

     
excellent arena in which to demonstrate the fierceness and

     
prowess of Turian warriors, thus perhaps intimidating or, at

     
the very least, encouraging the often overbold warriors of the

     
Wagon Peoples to be wary of Turian steel. The secret justifi-

     
cation, I suspect, however, is that the Turian warrior is fond

     
of meeting the enemy and acquiring his women, particularly

     
should they be striking little beasts, like Hereena of the First

     
Wagon, as untamed and savage as they are beautiful; it is

     
regarded as a great sport among Turian warriors to collar

     
such a wench and force her to exchange riding leather for

     
the bells and silks of a perfumed slave girl. It might also be

     
mentioned that the Turian warrior, in his opinion, too seldom

     
encounters the warrior of the Wagon Peoples, who tends to

     
be a frustrating, swift and elusive foe, striking with great

     
rapidity and withdrawing with goods and captives almost

     
before it is understood what has occurred. I once asked

     
Kamchak if the Wagon Peoples had a justification for the

     
games of Love War. "Yes," he had said. And he had then

     
pointed to Dina and Tenchika, clad Kajir, who were at that

     
time busy in the wagon. "That is the justification," said

     
Kamchak. And he had then laughed and pounded his knee. It

     
was only then that it had occurred to me that both girls

     
might have been acquired in the games; as a matter of fact, I

     
however, I later learned that only Tenchika had been so

wenches!" he cried, and this sand

 
The wagon girls, watching this, some of them chewing on

 
fruit or stalks of grass, jeered.

 
One by one, clad in the proud arrays of resplendent silks,

 
each in the Robes of Concealment, the damsels of Turia,

 
veiled and straight-standing, emerged from their palanquins,

 
scarcely concealing their distaste for the noise and clamor

 
about them. ~

 
Judges were now circulating, each with lists, among the

 
Wagon Peoples and the Turians.

 
As I knew, not just any girl, any more than just any

 
warrior, could participate in the games of Love War. Only

 
the most beautiful were eligible, and only the most beautiful

 
of these could be chosen.

 
A girl might propose herself to stand, as had Aphris of

 
Turia, but this would not guarantee that she would be cho-

 
sen, for the criteria of Love War are exacting and, as much

 
as possible, objectively applied. Only the most beautiful of

 
the most beautiful could stand in this harsh sport.

 
I heard a judge call, "First Stakel Aphris of Turial"

 
"Hah!" yelled Kamchak, slapping me on the back, nearly

 
knocking me from the back of my kaiila.

 
I was astonished. The Turian wench was beautiful indeed,

 
that she could stand at the first stake. This meant that she

 
was quite possibly the most beautiful woman in Turia, cer-

 
tainly at least among those in the games this year.

 
In her silks of white and gold, on cloths thrown before

 
her, Aphris of Turia stepped disdainfully forward, guided by

 
a judge, to the first of the stakes on the side of the Wagon

 
Peoples. The girls of the Wagon Peoples, on the other hand,

 
would stand at the stakes nearest Turia. In this way the

 
Turian girls can see their city and their warriors, and the girls

 
of the Wagons can see the plains and the warriors of the

 
Wagon Peoples. I had also been informed by Kamchak that

 
this places the girl farther from her own people. Thus, to

 
interfere, a Turian would have to cross the space between the

 
stakes, and so, too, would one of the Wagon Peoples, thus

 
clearly calling thcn~selves to the attention of the judges, those

 
officials supervising the Games.

 
The judges were now calling names, and girls, both of the

 
Wagon Peoples and of Turia, were coming forward.

 
I saw that Hereena, of the First Wagon, stood Third

 
Stake, though, as far as I could note, she was no less

 
beautiful than the two Kassar girls who stood above her.

 
Kamchak explained that there was a slight gap between

     
two of her teeth on the upper right hand side in the back.

     
"Oh," I said.

     
I noted with amusement that she was furious at having

     
been chosen only third stake. "I, Hereena of the First Wag-