Nomads of Gor (4 page)

 
than a hundred years. I suspected that this might be due to

 
the hostilities and bickerings of the peoples among them-

 
selves; where people did not wish to unite, where they rel-

 
ished their autonomy, where they nursed old grievances and

 
sang the glories of vengeance raids, where they considered all

 
others, even those of the other Peoples, as beneath them-

 
selves, there would not be likely to exist the conditions for

 
serious confederation, a joining together of the wagons, as
   

 
*A consequence of the chronological conventions of the Wagon

 
Peoples, of course, is that their years tend to vary in length, but this

 
fact, which might bother us, does not bother them, any more than

 
the fact that some men and some animals live longer than others;

 
the women of the Wagon Peoples, incidentally, keep a calendar based

 
on the phases of Gor's largest moon, but this is a calendar of fifteen

 
moons, named for the fifteen varieties of bask, and functions inde-

 
pendently of the tallying of years by snows; for example, the Moon

 
of the Brown Bosk may at one time occur in the winter, at another

 
time, years later, in the summer; this calendar is kept by a set of

 
colored pegs set in the sides of some wagons, on one of which,

 
depending on the moon, a round, wooden plate bearing the image of

 
a bosk is fixed. The years, incidentally, are not numbered by the

 
Wagon Peoples, but given names, toward their end, based on some-

 
thing or other which has occurred to distinguish the year. The year

 
names are kept in living memory by the Year Keepers, some of whom

 
can recall the names of several thousand consecutive years. The Wagon

 
Peoples do not trust important matters, such as year names, to paper

 
or parchment, subject to theft, insect and rodent damage, deterioration,

 
etc. Most of those of the Wagon Peoples have excellent memories,

 
trained from birth. Few can read, though some can, perhaps having

 
acquired the skill far from the wagons, perhaps from merchants or

 
tradesmen. The Wagon Peoples, as might be expected, have a large

 
and complex oral literature. This is kept by and occasionally, in

 
parts, recited by the Camp Singers. They do not have castes, as

 
Goreans tend to think of them. For example, every male of the Wagon

 
Peoples is expected to be a warrior, to be able to ride, to be able

 
to hunt, to care for the bask, and so on. When I speak of Year

 
Keepers and Singers it 'muss be understood that these are not, for

 
the Wagon Peoples, castes, but more like roles, subsidiary to their

 
main functions, which are those of the war, herding and the hunt.

  
  
They do have, however, certain clans, not castes, which specialize in

 
certain matters, for example, the clan of healers, leather workers, salt

 
hunters, and so on. I have already mentioned the clan of torturers.

  
  
The members of these clans, however, like the Year Keepers and

 
Singers, are all expected, first and foremost, to be, as it is said, of the

 
wagons namely to follow, tend and protect the bask, to be superb

 
in the saddle, and to be skilled with the weapons of both the hunt

 
and war.

   
 
The saying is; under such conditions it was not surprising that

  
the 'omens tended to be unfavorable"; indeed, what more

  
inauspicious omens could there be? The haruspexes, the read-

  
ers of bosk blood and verr livers, surely would not be

  
unaware of these, let us say, larger, graver omens. It would

  
not, of course, be to the benefit of Turia, or the farther cities,

  
or indeed, any of the free cities of even northern Gor, if the

  
isolated fierce peoples of the south were to join behind a

  
single standard and turn their herds northward, away from

  
their dry plains to the lusher reaches of the valleys of the

  
eastern Cartius, Perhaps even beyond them to those of the

  
Vosk. Little would be safe if the Wagon Peoples should

  
march.

   
 
A thousand years ago it was said they had carried devasta-

  
tion as far as the walls of Ar and Ko-ro-ba.

  
The rider had clearly seen me and was moving his mount

  
steadily toward me.

  
  
I could now see as well, though separated by hundreds of

  
yards, three other riders approaching. One was circling to

  
approach from the rear.

  
  
The mount of the Wagon Peoples, unknown in the

  
northern hemisphere of Gor, is the terrifying but beautiful

  
kaiila. It is a silken, carnivorous, lofty creature, graceful,

  
long-necked, smooth-gaited. It is viviparous and undoubtedly

  
mammalian, though there is no suckling of the young. The

  
young are born vicious and by instinct, as soon as they can

  
struggle to their feet, they hunt. It is an instinct of the

  
other, sensing the birth, to deliver the young animal in the

  
vicinity of game. I supposed, with the domesticated kaiila, a

  
bound verr or a prisoner might be cast to the newborn

  
animal. The kaiila, once it eats its fill, does not touch food

  
for several days.

   
 
The kaiila is extremely agile, and can easily outmaneuver

  
he slower, more ponderous high tharlarion. It requires less

  
food, of course, than the tarn. A kaiila, which normally

  
stands about twenty to twenty-two hands at the shoulder, can

  
over as much as six hundred pasangs in a single day's

  
riding.*

   
 
The head of the kaiila bears two large eyes, one on each

  
side, but these eyes are triply lidded, probably an adaptation

  
to the environment which occasionally is wracked by severe

  
storms of wind and dust; the adaptation, actually a transpar-

  
ent third lid, permits the animal to move as it wishes under

  
conditions that force other prairie animals to back into the

  
wind or, like the sleen, to burrow into the ground. The kaiila

  
is most dangerous under such conditions, and, as if it knew

  
this, often uses such times for its hunt.

  
Now the rider had reined in the kaiila.

  
He held his ground, waiting for the others.

  
I could hear the soft thud of a kaiila's paws in the grass, to

  
my right.

    
The second rider had halted there. He was dressed much

  
as the first man, except that no chain depended from his

  
helmet, but his wind scarf was wrapped about his face. His

  
shield was lacquered yellow, and his bow was yellow. Over

  
his shoulder he, too, carried one of the slender lances. He

  
was a black. Kataii, I said to myself.

     
     
The third rider placed himself, reining in suddenly, pulling

  
the mount to its hind legs, and it reared snarling against the

  
bit, and then stood still, its neck straining toward me. I could

  
see the long, triangular tongue in the animal's head, behind

  
the four rows of fangs. The rider, too, wore a wind scarf. His

  
shield was red. The Blood People, the Kassars.

  
I turned and was not surprised to see the fourth rider,

  
motionless on his animal, already in position. The kaiila

  
moves with great rapidity. The fourth rider was dressed in a

  
hood and cape of white fur. He wore a flopping cap of

  
white fur, which did not conceal the conical outlines of the

  
steel beneath it. The leather of his jerkin was black. The

  
buckles on his belt of gold. His lance had a rider hook under

  
the point, with which he might dismount opponents.

     
     
The kaiila of these men were as tawny as the brown grass

   
of the prairie, save for that of the man who faced me, whose

   
mount was a silken, sable black, as black as the lacquer of

   
the shield.

     
     
About the neck of the fourth rider there was a broad belt

   
of jewels, as wide as my hand. I gathered that this was

   
ostentation. Actually I was later to learn that the jeweled belt

   
is worn to incite envy and accrue enemies; its purpose is to

   
encourage attack, that the owner may try the skill of his

   
weapons, that he need not tire himself seeking for foes. I

   
knew, though, from the belt, though I first misread its

   
purpose, that the owner was of the Paravaci, the Rich People
                
-

   
"Tal!" I called, lifting my hand, palm inward, in Gorean

   
greeting.

    
As one man the four riders unstrapped their lances.

   
"I am Tart Cabot," I called. "I come in peace"

   
I saw the kaiila tense, almost like larls, their flanks

   
quivering, their large eyes intent upon me. I saw one of the

   
long, triangular tongues dart out and back. Their long ears

   
were laid back against the fierce, silken heads.

   
"Do you speak Gorean?" I called.

   
As one, the lances were lowered. The lances of the Wagon

   
Peoples are not pouched. They are carried in the right fist,

   
easily, and are flexible and light, used for thrusting, not the

   
battering-ram effect of the heavy lances of Europe's High

   
Middle Ages. Needless to say, they can be almost as swift

   
and delicate in their address as a saber. The lances are black,

   
cut from the poles of young tem trees. They may be bent