Read Blood Brothers of Gor Online

Authors: John Norman

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

Blood Brothers of Gor (60 page)

Chapter 40

 

IN THE COMPOUND OF THE WANIYANPI

 

"There is a fire in here," said Pumpkin, from outside of the threshold. "Let me go in first."

Hci, Cuwignaka and I sat behind a fire, in the center of the large, half-sunken, earthen-and-wood lodge of the Waniyanpi. We faced the threshold.

"There may be danger," I heard Radish say, from outside the threshold.

"Do you wish to enter first?" asked Pumpkin.

"No," she said. "No! You enter first."

"I shall," said Pumpkin.

We sat behind the fire, in what, in a lodge of red savages, would be the place of honor.

Mira knelt behind us, in the position of the pleasure slave. I had permitted her clothing, but clothing only of a certain sort.

The lodge in which we waited was not untypical of the communal lodges of the Waniyanpi. It was some fifty feet in diameter, with an earthen bench or projection about the interior

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edges. Its roof is rounded and slopes upward towards the center. This roof ranges from five to eight feet in height, from the surface level, as opposed to the interior floor level; it is formed of poles covered with sod; it is supported at the edges of the log walls, against which, on the outside, dirt is banked, and by log stanchions arranged in a circle on the floor. At the apex of the lodge is a smoke hole and beneath the smoke hole, at the center of the lodge, is the fire hole. It was in this fire hole that we had built our fire. The smoke hole, incidentally, because of its size, and the size and structure of the lodge, tends to be somewhat inefficient. It is quite different from the smoke holes of the conelike hide lodges common with the red savages which, because of flaps, responsive to the movements of poles, function like efficient, adjustable flues.

There are no windows in the lodges of the Waniyanpi. Even with the fire lit, they are half dark.

"He is coming in," said Cuwignaka.

"Yes," I said.

The lodges of the Waniyanpi, as I have suggested, are communal lodges. The entire commuinty lives within them. One advantage of such lodges, and communal living, generally, is that it makes it easier to impose social controls on the members of the community. It is natural, accordingly, for certain sorts of authoritarioanisms to favor such arrangements. Where there is no place for difference it is natura that difference will have no place. The strongest chains are those a man does not know he wears.

"It is a large man," said Cuwignaka.

"It is Pumpkin," I said.

I despaired, then, for a moment, of my plan. But then, I reminded myself, how insuppressible is man, how tenacious is truth.

"Is it you?" asked Pumpkin, coming forward, blinking against the light of the fire.

"Greetings," I said. "We have made ourselves your guests."

"You are welcome," said Pumpkin, ungainly in his Waniyanpi garb.

"Is it safe?" called Radish, from outside the threshold.

'Yes," said Pumpkin. "Come in."

Pumpkin then saw Mira.

She wore a brief halter of Waniyanpi cloth which by design, did little to conceal the beauty of her breasts; about her waist a string was tied; two pieces of Waniyanpi cloth,

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about a foot wide and two feet long, were thrust over and behind the string, one in from and one in back; these two pieces of cloth could be casually jerked loose, if one wished; similarly, the knot, at the left hip, was made so that a mere tug could free it, causing the garment to fall; in this fashion the lower garment may be removed from her a bit at a time or, as a whole, if the master wishes; a similar knot, joining the harlter's neck and back strings, could be similarly freed. The slave, accordingly, can be stripped a bit at a time, or almost instantly, as one wishes. Such garments are not unusaul for slaves.

Pumpkin stared at Mira, unbelievingly.

"Master?" she asked.

"Is it you--Turnip?" he asked.

"I am Mira," she said, "the slave of Red Bull."

"Ae you not Turnip?" he asked.

"I was once Turnip," she said. "I am now no longer Turnip. I am now Mira, the slave of Red Bull."

I had had two major purposes in mind in dressing her as I had. I wished, first, for the Waniyanpi males, and females, too, to see her as she was, as what she was, a slave, an owned woman, one who beloned to men and must please them. Secondly, I wished for them all to see, and see clearly, how beautiful and desireable she was, the lovely slave.

I saw that the Waniyanpi men, and women, too, looked upon her. Some of the Waniyanpi males tried to avert their eyes but, in a moment, gazed eagerly again upon her. She was simply too beautiful and exciting to look away from.

I smiled. The Waniyanpi could not take their eyes from her. She lowered her head, timidly, blushing, startled at suddely finding herslef the object of this attention. The Lady Mira of Venna, the free woman, I speculated, had never found herself looked upon in this fashion, with such awe, with such desire and admiration, with such rapture and pleasure. But then she was not a slave.

"Get her out of here!" screamed Radish. "Can't you see? She is a slave!"

Radish ran about the fire and struck Mira, striking her to her side on the dirt floor. Mira, on her side, cowered at her feet.

"Get out of here!" screamed Radish. "Get out of here! There is no place for such as you here! Get out! You are an animal! Go graze with the verr! Go swill with the tarsk! Get out! Get out!"

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Mira, frightened, trying to cover her head, looked to me.

"She does not have my permission to leave," I informed Radish.

"Get out! All of you!" screamed Radish.

"I have bedden them welcome," said Pumpkin.

"I am the leader here!" called Radish.

"I thought we were all Sames," said Pumpkin.

"Send them away!" cried Radish.

"I have bidden them welcome," said Pumpkin. His voice was not pleasant. Radish, suddenly, frightened, backed away. I think she suddenly realized, perhaps for the first time, explicitly, in her life, what a man such as Pumpkin, with his power, and his will, might do.

"You are welcome," said Pumplin, turning to us.

"Thank you," I said.

"Tonight," said Pumpkin, "share our kettle."

"That is a Gorean invitation," I said. "Where did you hear it?"

"Many years ago, from a man," said Pumpkin, "one who had not always been of the Waniyanpi."

"What became of him?" I asked.

"He was killed," said Pumpkin, "by Yellow Knives."

"Now," said Carrot, "Yellow Knives are our masters."

"No," said Cuwignaka. "The Kaiila are your masters."

"The Kaiila are gone," said Cabbage. "They are vanquished and scattered."

"They will return," said Cuwignaka, his voice like iron.

We spoke in Gorean. I was just as pleased. This meant that Hci could not follow what was said. It would ot have done my plans any good if he had leapt across the fire and thrust his kinfe into Cabbage's throat.

"Alas," said Pumpkin. "We have only porridge."

"To share the kettle of a friend," I said, "is to dine with a Ubar."

"That, too, is a Gorean saying, isn't it?" asked Pumpkin.

"Yes," I said.

"Let us all sit," said Pumpkin, "saving those whose turn it is to prepare the porridge."

The Waniyanpi, most of them, then gathered about the fire and sat down. They seemed pleased, most of them, that there were guests. An iron rack was brought, from which a kettle was suspended. The fire was built up.

"I will stir for you, Carrot," said a dark-haired girl.

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"I will stir for you, Cabbage," said a blond girl.

"It is my turn," said Cabbage.

"Please," said the girl, glancing at Mira.

"Very well," said Cabbage.

"Carrot and Cabbage must then, later, stir twice," said Radish.

"No," said the dark-haired girl.

"No," said the blond-haired girl.

"Do you recall Squash and Strawberry, the two young people who were recently put out of the compound?" I asked Pumpkin.

"Yes," he said, sadly.

"They are safe now," I said, "in a Kailla camp."

"I am so pleased to hear it!" exclaimed Pumpkin.

"Wonderful!" said several of the Waniyanpi. I saw that they had not truly wanted the young couple who had been caught touching one another, to die. I had suspected that that would be the case.

"It was Radish who wanted them put out," said Carrot.

"They were caught touching," said Radish, angrily.

"Squash has now taken a Kailla name," I said. " 'Wayuhahaka', which means 'One-Who-Possesses-Much." "

"But he possesses little or nothing," said Radish.

"He has found his manhood," I said, "and nothing, ever again, will take it from him."

"That is not a fitting name for a Same," said Radish.

"He is no longer a Same," I said.

"Disgusting," she said.

"He is also learning the bow and the lance," I said to Pumpkin.

"Interesting," he said.

"Strawberry remains Strawberry," I said. "That name, at least at this time, is being kept upon her. He has not yet seen fit to change it."

" 'Being kept upon her'?" asked Radish. "He has not yet see fit to change it'?"

"He found her pleasing," I said. "He has made her his slave."

"His slave!" breathed the dark-haired girl stirring the porridge.

"Yes," I said.

She stopped stirring the porridge.

"Then he can take off her clothes, if he wishes," said the blond girl, pausing in her stirring as well.

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"Whether she is clothed or not now," I said, "is completely up to his will."

"He can touch her whenever he wishes?" asked another Waniyanpi woman.

"Of course," I said. "Whenever, however, and for as long as he pleases. And as she is a slave, she may now wheedle for his caress, and beg for his touch."

"If she is a slave, she must obey him, mustn't she?" asked the dark-haired girl.

"She must obey him perfectly, and in all things,"I said.

"Stir the porridge," said Radish.

The two girls again commenced their stirring.

"She is a slave, isn't she?" asked the Waniyanpi woman who had spoken before, she who was not engaged in the stirring, pointing at Mira.

"Yes," I said. Mira lowered her head, modestly.

"Do not look upon her," snapped Radish, "particularly those of you whose garments are of larger sizes!"

"Anyone may look upon her who pleases to do so," said Pumpkin.

Mira blushed. She kept her head down. Pumpking was right, of course. Slaves, being properties, may be looked upon by anyone who pleases to do so.

"I do not want her here," said Radish, angrily.

"Why not?" I asked.

"She is a slave," said Radish.

"I thought all Waniyanpi were slaves," I said.

Radish looked at me, angrily.

"To be sure," I said, "the universalizatin of slavery is its best concealment."

"The porridge is ready," said the dark-haired girl with the spoon.

It was popping and bubbling.

"Let us eat," said Pumpkin.

 

"What is she doing?" asked Radish, irritably.

"She is serving," I said.

Mira knelt near me, head down, her arms extended, proffering me a bowl of the Waniyanpi porridge.

The porridge had been removed by a hood from the rack and placed on another rack, to the side. The blond girl ahd brough out wooden bowls and spoons.

"Each here serves themselves, in turn," said Radish.

"Your porridge, Master," said Mira.

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"Thank you," I said, taking the porridge.

She then returned to the line, to fetch porridge for Cuwignaka and Hci.

"She is pretty, isn't she?" asked the dark-haired girl, she who had shared the stirring of the porridge, to Carrot. He was watching Mira.

"Yes," he said.

"Am I pretty?" she asked.

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