Authors: John Norman

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Adventure, #Erotica

Blood Brothers of Gor (30 page)

"Did you truly think, Hci," laughed Cuwignaka, "that my brother, Canka, who has served as Blotanhunka, and who is of the All Comrades, not merely of the Sleen Soldiers, would not take your twenty kaiila for a mere slave?"

"I will never surrender her," said Canka.

"May I speak to my brother?" asked Cuwignaka, laughing.

"Certainly," said Hci. He then turned to the crowd. "It is lovely Siptopto, Canka's sister. Why should a sister not be permitted to speak to her brother? It is not a sister's privilege to speak to her broher?"

"Cinto!" said several in the crowd. "Surely! Certainly!"

"Thank you," said Cuwignaka.

"Do not stand between us," said Canka.

Cuwignaka placed himself directly between the two young savages, facing Canka, his back to Hci. He placed his hands fraternally upon Canka's shoulders, an action which also, of course, had the consequence of assuring himself that Canka remained where he was. He spoke softly to Canka for a moment, and then stepped back. "The joke has really gone far enough, my brother, I feel," said Cuwignaka, rather loudly.

"You are right, Cuwignaka," said Canka. "Forgive me, Hci," he said. "I did not really mean to make sport of you.

Hci regarded him, puzzled.

"She is yours," said Canka, indicating Winyela. Winyela looked agonized. I thought for a moment she might fall.

"She is mine?" asked Hci.

"Of course," said Canka. "Put a rope on her neck. Lead her away." He then, firmly, took the lead rope of the kaiila string from the Sleen Soldier who led it.

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"Mine?" asked Hci.

"Yes," said Canka. "You said that you would take her. Take her."

"It is twenty kaiila!" sadi Hci.

"The terms of he exchange were yours," said Canka. "I find thempeculiar. But I certainly acept them. Take her."

"Please, Master," wept Winyela, piteously throwing herself to her knees at the feet of Canka, "do not let me go! Do not give me to him! I love you! I love you!"

"Silence, mere slave," said Canka, sternly.

Winyela put her head down. Her body was shaken with wild sobs.

"Do you think you are more than a mere object," he asked, "to be done with as I please?"

"No, Master," she wept. "No, Master."

Hci was standing there, stunned.

"What are you going to do with her?" asked Canka, pleasantly.

Hci, I saw, had not planned on getting the girl, as Cuwignaka had speculated. He had not really thought about doing anything with her.

"My father wanted her," said Hci. "I will give her to him, for the Yellow Knives."

"That is a good idea," said Canka, warmly.

"Hci," laughed a man, "has to give twenty kaiila for a white slave!"

"I do not think I will let him do my trading for me," said another man.

"It is two jokes," laughed another. "Hci was fooled into thinking Canka would not trade, and then Canka outwitted him, making a trade much to his profit!"

"If only I could do as well in the exhanging of gifts!" said another fellow.

There was general laughter.

"Come, Girl," said Hci, angrily, to Winyela. He wished, clearly, to swiftly depart from this place where, suddenly, the tables being turned, he found himself, he, Hci, the sone of a chief, not only outdone but make to look foolish. This would mushly sting his vanity.

"Go with him," said Canka to Winyela.

she rose unsteadily to her feet.

Hci turned away. But he had not taken more than a stride or two before Canka called after him, "Hold, Hci, my friend!"

Hci, angrily, his hand at his knife hilt, turned.

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"This is the time of making peace," said Canka. "This is the time of feasting and dancing. This is the time of the giving of gifts."

Hci glared angrily at him.

"I give you twenty kaiila!" said Canka, lifting the lead rope of the kaiila. "They are yours!"

"I have nothing to give you worth twenty kaiila!" shouted Hci, in fury.

"I will take her," said Canka, pointing to Winyela.

"No," said Hci, suddenly. "I know now you want her. I will keep her!"

"Do so," laughed Canka. "But then," he said, turning to the crowd, "let it be told about all he fires how Hci lost his honor, how he did not participate in the giving of gifs, how he proved in this that he ws only a small and petty man, that he lacked the nobility and generosity of the Kaiila warrior!"

"I am a Kaiila warrior!" shouted Hci, in fury. "I an now small and petty! Hci is generous! Hci is noble! Hci is a generous and noble warrior! Hci is a warrior of the Kaiila! Hci does not lose his honor!"

"Oh?" asked Canka.

"She is yours!" said Hci.

"And the kaiila are yours," smiled Canka, handing the lead rope of the kaiila string to one of the Sleen Soldiers with Hci.

Winyela fell at the feet of Canka. I feared she might lose consciousness.

Hci regarded Canka with fury. His hand opened and closed at his knife sheath.

"I think Canka wants the woman," said a man.

"I think so, too," said another.

"Interesting," said another.

"There are three jokes," said one of the men. "Canka pretended not to want to trade, and then he traded, outwitting Hci, and then, wanting the woman, he again outwitted Hci, forcing him, against his honor, to trade her back."

I smiled. I myself thought the honors in this lively exhange would be more fittingly accorded to Cuwignaka than to Canka. His cleverness, it seemed to me, it was which had won the day and prevented probable bloodshed. Canka, I was sure, was under no delusion on this score.

"It is a good story," said a man. "Through the years it will bear much retelling."

"And it is not an owned story," said a man. "We all may tell it."

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"Yes," said another. Many stories among the red savages are owned stories, stories which only one man has a right to tell. If one would wish to hear the story one must ask its owner to tell it. It is a privilege to own a story. It can make one an important person, too, to own a story, to be he to whom one must come if one wishes to hear it. Sometimes they are told on special days, story-telling days, and many people will come to listen. Some men own little but their story, but owning a good story, in the opinion of the red savages, makes a man rich. Such stories, like other forms of personal property, can be given away or sold. They are, however, seldom sold, for the red savages do not like to think that a story can have a price. They like to think of them as being too precious to sell. Thus, like all things precious, or priceless, they are either to be kept or given away, kept as treasures, or awarded, freely, as by a man whose heart sings, as gifts. Sometimes a man bequeaths his story to his heirs; some stories, for example, have been in families for generations; sometimes, on the other hand, he will give it to someone who loves it, and whom he thinks, in turn, will tell it well.

"Tomorrow," cried Hci, angrily, pointing his finger at Canka, "my father will take the woman! Tomorrow, by noon, he will tkae her from you, for the Yellow Knives!" He then, in fury, turned about and strode between the lodges. He was followed by his fellows of the Sleen Soldiers, the lead rope of the kaiila string in the hands of one of the.

"Do you think he will do that?" I asked Canka.

"No," said Canka. "Mahpiyasapa is angry with me, but he is a good chief. He knows the ways of Kaiila. He would never take the woman from me against my will."

Canka then crouched down, next to Winyela. He lifted her to a kneeling position and held her against him, closely.

"Do not be afraid," said Canka, soothingly.

"You gave me away," she whispered.

"Only for a moment," he said, "and only within our ways. I was in no danger of losing you."

"You gave me away," she said, numbly.

"It is over now," said Canka. "I will not do it again."

"Do you not like me?" she asked.

"Yes," said Canka, "I like you."

"Do not let me go, every," she begged.

"I will never let you go," he said. "I love you."

She looked at him, startled, and then, trembling and sobbing,

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pressed herself into his arms. "I love you, too, my Master," she wept.

Canka let her cry for a time, holding her in his arms. Then he lifted her in his arms and carried her gently into the recesses of his lodge.

"Canka haldled Hci quite well, I think," said Cuwignaka.

"I think Cuwignaka handled Hci quite well," I said. "Certainly Canka knows that and, I suspect, unfortunaletly, Hci knows it as well."

"Hci is a clever fellow," said Cuwignaka. "I think it is time he was given a taste of his own medicine."

"Those who dispence such medicine," I said, "seldom enjoy receiving it in turn."

"I think now I have a little satisfaction for Hci's trick in the draw, and the losing of the meat," chuckled Cuwignaka.

"Do you think trouble will come of this?" I asked.

"No," said Cuwignaka. "Hci is angry, but he can do nothing. Within our ways he is helpless."

"But what if he goes outside of your ways?" I asked.

"He will not do that," said Cuwignaka. "Hci, when all is said and done, is Kaiila. He is honorable."

"He threatened Canka that Mahpiyasapa would take Qinyela tomorrow," I said. "He certainly could nt know that that is true, and it is, I gather, in all probability, false. Similarly, outrightly, it seems, he lied in the matter of the meat."

"That is true," said Cuwignaka, thoughtfully. "He really should not have done that."

"No," I said.

"It is not a becoming thing for a person to do," said Cuwignaka.

"Too," I said, "sugh things as civilization, and friendship and interchanges depend muchly upon trust."

"Also," said Cuwignaka, "it could be dangerous."

"How is that?" I asked.

"One's shield might betray one," said Cuwignaka.

I regarded Cuwignaka.

"Yes," said Cuwignaka. "It is a well-known fact. One's shield may choose not to defend one, if one is a liar."

"Shields do not behave like that outside of the Barrens," I told Cuwignaka, smiling.

"You are a skeptical, I see," said Cuwignaka. "Well, be assured, my friend, I am speaking of the shields of the peoples of the Barrens and within the Barrens. These are not your ordinary shields. These are made with the aid of spells. The

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medicines of war are important in their construction and designs. They are not merely equipment, not merely contraptions of metal or leather. They are holy. They are precious. They are friends and allies. Surely you have seen them suspended from tripods behind the lodges, being sunned?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"That is to soak up power from the sun."

"I see," I said.

"You would not do that with an ordinary shield, would you?" asked Cuwignaka.

"Not generally," I admitted.

"Thus," said Cuwignaka, "they are not ordinary shields."

"In battle," I said, "surely some warriors are more successful than others."

"Of course," said Cuwignaka. "Their war medicine is probably stronger."

"I see," I said.

"Let us return to our lodge," said Cuwignaka.

"You speak Gorean," I said. "You have lived with the white men."

"Yes?" asked Cuwignaka.