Blood Brothers of Gor Read online

  The second time Cuwignaka had refused to go on the warpath he had been bound in his dress and traded to Dust Legs, from whom, eventually, he was purchased as a slave by whites, in the vicinity of the Ihanke, the border between the lands of farmers and ranchers and the lands of the red savages. Near the perimeter, as a slave, he had learned to speak Gorean. Later he was acquired by soldiers and brought again into the Barrens, their intention being to use him as an interpreter. When the wagon train had been destroyed, that with which the soldiers were then traveling, he had fallen into the hands of the victors. He had returned to the Barrens. He had been the slave of the hated enemy. He was staked out, to die. A lance, unbroken, had been placed by him, butt down, in the earth, in token of respect, at least, by Canka, Fire-Steel, his brother. Canka had also taken the dress which Hci had thrown contemptuously beside him, taken from the loot of one of the wagons, and wrapped it about the lance. In this fashion Canka had conspicuously marked the place, as though with a flag.

  It has been my considered judgment that Canka, in doing this, had hoped to draw attention to the location, that he hoped by this device to attract others to the spot, who might free the lad, or perhaps to mark it for himself, that he might later, accepting exile and outlawry at the hands of the Isbu, free his brother. As it turned out Grunt and I, traversing the Barrens, had come on the lad and freed him. Shortly thereafter we were apprehended by a mixed group of unlikely allies, representatives of Sleen, Yellow Knives and Kaiila, who, in virtue of the Memory, as it is called, had joined forces to attack the wagon train and soldiers.

  Grunt had brought a coffle of white slave girls into the Barrens with him, as pack animals and trade goods. He had also acquired two prisoners, two former enemies of his, Max and Kyle Hobart, in effect as gifts from Dust Legs. The Sleen took two of his girls, Ginger and Evelyn, former tavern girls from the town of Kailiauk, near the Ihanke, and the Hobarts, from him. Four other girls were led away from him naked and bound, their necks in tethers, by a Yellow-Knife warrior. These were two American girls, Lois and Inez, an English girl, named Priscilla, and a short, dark-haired French girl, named Corinne.

  The Kaiila were mostly members of the All Comrades, a warrior society, like the Sleen Soldiers, of the Isbu Kaiila. They were under the command of Canka, Cuwignaka's brother. One other was with the party, too, an older warrior, Kahintokapa, One-Who-Walks-Before, of the prestigious Yellow-Kaiila Riders. He was of the Casmu, or Sand, band.

  Grunt's prize on the coffle, a beautiful red-haired girl, a former debutante from Pennsylvania, once Miss Millicent Aubrey-Welles, was selected out by Canka as a personal slave, one to run at the left flank of his own kaiila and wear her leather, beaded collar, placed on her by his command, for him alone. Grunt's last slave, the dark-haired beauty, Wasnapohdi, or Pimples, whom he had acquired in trade for three hatchets from Dust Legs, he was permitted to keep. This was probably because Canka truly bore us no ill will. Indeed, he was probably pleased, as I now understand, that we had freed Cuwignaka. He may also have permitted Grunt to keep Wasnapohdi, of course, because she was conversant in Kaiila. He would have respected her for that.

  "Slave," said Hci, regarding me, scornfully.

  I did not meet his eyes. It was I, of course, who had actually freed Cuwignaka. It had been my knife which had cut the thongs. This was something which Canka, as Blotanhunka, or war-party leader, of the All Comrades, had, of course, not been able to overlook. Regardless of his own feelings in the matter or even, possibly, of his own intentions with respect to the future, such an act could not be allowed to pass unnoticed. A prisoner of the Kaiila, one duly dealt with, so to speak, had been freed. There was a payment to be made. I, on foot, had looked at the mounted warriors, the Kaiila left then in the place. There were some seventeen of them, including Canka. Each was an All Comrade; each was skilled; all had counted coup.

  "I am ready to fight," I had said.

  "Do not be a fool," had said Grunt.

  "I am ready," I had said to Canka.

  "There is an alternative," had said Grunt. "Can you not see? He is waiting."

  "What?" I asked.

  "The collar," said Grunt.

  "Never," I said.

  "Please, Tatankasa," had said Canka. This was what he had called me, when he had learned that I was willing to fight with his men, no quarter given or taken. It means, in effect, "Red Bull." 'Tatanka' designates the kailiauk bull, and the suffix 'sa' means red. In Kaiila, as in most of the languages of the Barrens, the adjective commonly succeeds the noun. The name was one in which respect was conveyed.

  "Please," had said Cuwignaka.

  "Please," had said Grunt.

  Numbly I had unbuckled my sword belt. I had wrapped the belt about the sword and knife sheath, and had given the belt, and these objects, to Grunt. I had disarmed myself. In moments Canka's beaded collar had been tied on my neck. I had become his slave.

  "Slave," sneered Hci.

  I did not respond to him.

  "White men," said Hci, scornfully, gesturing to myself and Grunt.

  "Yes," said Grunt, pleasantly.

  "How is it that a slave," asked Hci of Cuwignaka, "wears moccasins and rides a kaiila?"

  "It is permitted by Canka," said Cuwignaka.

  "Dismount," said Hci to me. "Remove your moccasins and your garments, completely."

  "He is not your slave," said Cuwignaka.

  "Nor is he yours," said Hci.

  I dismounted and stripped, removing also the moccasins which Canka had given me. I handed the clothing, and the moccasins, to Grunt. I then stood before Hci's kaiila. I wore now only the beaded leather collar which had been placed on me some two weeks ago. It was about an inch and a half high. It had a distinctive pattern of beading. The colors and design of the beading marked it as Canka's. It is common among red savages to use such designs, such devices, to mark their possessions. A collar of identical design, back in the village, was worn by the lovely, red-haired girl, the former Miss Millicent Aubrey-Welles, who had so taken the fancy of the young warrior. Both of our collars were tied shut. The knots on them had been retied personally by Canka after our arrival at his camp. This is done, in effect, with a signature knot, in a given tribal style, known only to the tier. This gives him a way of telling if the knot has been untied and retied in his absence. It is death, incidentally, for a slave to remove such a collar without permission. It can be understood then that slaves of the red savages do not tamper with their collars. They keep them on.

  "Slave," said Hci, contemptuously.

  One difference, of course, was clear between the collars of the girl and myself. Hers was the collar of a true slave, in the fullness of that meaning, whereas mine, in effect, though identical, functioned almost as a badge of protection. In being Canka's slave I had a status and place in the Isbu camp which, in its way, sheltered me from the type of sportive attack to which a lone, free white man might be otherwise exposed. In another way, Grunt's familiarity to the Kaiila, for he had visited them last year, and was close to Mahpiyasapa, Black Clouds, the civil chieftain of the Isbu, and his knowledge of their language, which closely resembles Dust Leg, garnered him a similar protection. His value as a trader, too, was clear to the Kaiila. They prized many of the things of value which he might bring into the Barrens, the men relishing trinkets such as trade points and knife blades, and the women welcoming trade cloth, chemical dyes and drilled glass beads. Too, Grunt was an honest man, and likable. This pleased the Kaiila, as it also did the Dust Legs and the Fleer.

  The collar of Canka which I wore, as I had come to realize in the past several days, was, all things considered, as he did not intend to enforce its significance upon me, a valuable accouterment. Canka was a respected and important young warrior; indeed, in the recent action to the west, he had even served as Blotanhunka of the All Comrades. This gave me, as his property, a certain prestige, particularly as Canka himself treated me with obvious respect. He called me Tatankasa, or Red Bull, which was a noble name from the po
int of view of the Kaiila. He gave me moccasins. He permitted me my clothing. He let me have, even, the use of my former kaiila. I did not even stay in his lodge, or have to sleep near it. I stayed with Cuwignaka in a tattered lodge, donated by Akihoka, One-Who-Is-Skillful, a close friend of Canka. For most practical purposes I was free in the village.

  "Kneel," said Hci.

  I knelt, naked, save for the collar of Canka, in the tall, dry grass.

  "Put your head down," said Hci.

  I did so.

  "This is not necessary," said Cuwignaka.

  "Be quiet, Siptopto," said Hci, "lest I consign you to the pleasure of warriors."

  "I do not fear you," said Cuwignaka.

  "You speak boldly for a female," said Hci.

  "I am a man," said Cuwignaka. Bold speech, incidentally, is commonly accepted from free females of their own people by the red savages. If she grows too irritating, of course, she may, like any other woman, be beaten. Bold speech, on the other hand, is not accepted from female slaves among the red savages. Female slaves among such peoples quickly learn their place, a place in which they are kept with perfection.

  "I did not know that," said Hci, as though interested.

  "Yes," said Cuwignaka.

  "On your belly," said Hci to me.

  "Do not do this," said Cuwignaka.

  "Crawl to the paws of my kaiila," said Hci to me.

  "No," said Cuwignaka.

  "Is he not a slave?" asked Hci.

  "Yes," said Cuwignaka, uncertainly.

  I moved to the paws of the kaiila, on my belly, my head down.

  "Kiss the paws of my kaiila," said Hci to me, imperiously.

  I did so. I had been commanded, as though I might have been a girl.

  "Canka will hear of this," said Cuwignaka.

  "See that he does," said Hci, angrily, and then pulled the kaiila away. The dust from the paws of the kaiila was in my mouth. "And now, get away from here! Return to the camp!" Little love was lost, I gathered, between Hci and Canka. Hci doubtless held Canka responsible, in some fashion, for Cuwignaka's freedom, and his presence among the Isbu, a presence which many among the Isbu, including Hci, found infuriating and shameful. In humiliating me, whom Canka treated with respect and honor, he was, in effect, demeaning Canka. On Canka's part, similarly, there was little affection borne toward Hci, largely because of the latter's hostility towards his brother, Cuwignaka. In Canka's view Hci's contempt for Cuwignaka was more unbending, more extreme and rigid, than was called for. Cuwignaka lived and dressed as a woman; he was referred to as a woman and performed the labors of a woman. He was not to be permitted to mate among the Kaiila. What more did Hci want?

  I myself suspected that the matter went deeper than Hci's tribal pride and sense of propriety. Already Canka was a rising young warrior in the tribe. Already, once, he had served as Blotanhunka, or the leader of a war party. Hci, in spite of his skills and courage, had not yet received such an honor. This may have stung Hci even more as he was the son of Mahpiyasapa, the civil chief of the Isbu. Such leadership might have seemed almost owed to one in his position. Yet it had been denied him. I suspected that the reason that Hci had never been given the command of a raiding party was not because he was not admired and liked among the Isbu, nor because his trail and war skills were not respected, but because his judgment was not trusted. The recklessness with which he conducted himself and his insouciant disregard of personal danger did not augur well for his capacity to discharge the duties of a responsible leadership.

  I did not think, incidentally, that Hci's hostility toward Canka had anything to do with Canka's acquisition of, and ownership of, Winyela, the lovely, white, red-haired female slave, the former Miss Millicent Aubrey-Welles, of Pennsylvania, whom Grunt had brought into the Barrens for Mahpiyasapa, his father. Hci had little use for such slaves, except occasionally to rape and quirt them. Mahpiyasapa, on the other hand, had been extremely displeased that Canka, despite being informed of the intended disposition of the white female, had asserted his war rights of slave capture, and, desiring her mightily, had taken her for himself. Mahpiyasapa, incidentally, as I have mentioned, was the civil chief of the Isbu.

  Among the red savages there are various sorts of chief. The primary types of chief are the war chief, the medicine chief and the civil chief. One may be, interestingly, only one sort of chief at a time. This, like the rotation of police powers among warrior societies, is a portion of the checks and balances, so to speak, which tend to characterize tribal governance. Other checks and balances are such things as tradition and custom, the closeness of the governed and the governors, multiple-family interrelatednesses, the election of chiefs, the submission of significant matters to a council, and, ultimately, the feasibility of simply leaving the group, in greater or lesser numbers. Despotism, then, in virtue of the institutions of the red savages, is impractical for them; this impracticality is a much surer guarantee of its absence in a society than the most fervid of negative rhetorics.

  "Go," ordered Hci.

  "Do you command me as Hci, or as a Sleen Soldier?" asked Cuwignaka, angrily.

  "Go," said Hci, menacingly.

  "I obey you as a Sleen Soldier," said Cuwignaka. "I will go."

  "When the hunt is mounted," said Hci to Cuwignaka, "you may not hunt. You will cut meat with the women."

  "That is known to me," said Cuwignaka.

  "For you are a woman," said Hci, sneeringly.

  "No," said Cuwignaka. "I am a man."

  "She is pretty, is she not?" asked Hci of Grunt.

  Grunt did not respond.

  "If she does not please you," said Hci to Grunt, "beat her, as you would any other woman." He then turned his mount abruptly about. I heard its paws, suddenly, striking the turf, the sound rapidly diminishing.

  "Do not pursue him," said Grunt to Cuwignaka.

  "I am a man," said Cuwignaka, angrily.

  "That is known to me," said Grunt.

  "I must fight him," said Cuwignaka.

  "No," said Grunt. "That would not be wise. He is one of the finest of the warriors of the Isbu."

  "Rise up, Mitakola, my friend," said Cuwignaka to me. "He is gone."

  I rose to my feet, wiping my face with my right forearm. Grunt handed me my clothing and moccasins. I donned them. I again mounted my kaiila.

  Hci was now better than two pasangs away, at the fringe of the kailiauk.

  "Do you not wish to kill him?" asked Cuwignaka, bitterly.

  I shrugged. "He was not attacking me," I said. "He was attacking Canka." Too, I had accepted the collar. In doing this, I had understood what I was doing. Hci, as would have been any other free person, had been fully within his rights. I had no delusions concerning my status. I was a slave.

  "Do you not want to kill him?" asked Cuwignaka.

  "No," I said.

  "I want to kill him," said Cuwignaka, bitterly.

  "No, you do not," said Grunt. "He is of the Isbu, he is of your own band."

  "But I do not have to like him," said Cuwignaka, suddenly, laughing.

  "That is true," grinned Grunt.

  I looked after Hci. He seemed to be a bitter, driven young man. This had come about, I gathered, after his disfigurement. From that time on he had seemed to live for little more than killing and vengeance, not only against the Yellow Knives but against any enemy, or reputed enemy, of the Kaiila.

  "He is mad," said Cuwignaka.

  "He is bitter," I said.

  It interested me that Hci had taken the attitude he had towards his disfigurement. Many warriors would have been little concerned about such a mark, particularly as it did not impair them in any significant fashion. Others might have welcomed it as a sign of bravery, a revelatory token of courage in close combat. Still others might have welcomed it as a savage, brutal enhancement to their appearance. But not so Hci. He, like not a few of the red savages, had been excessively vain about his appearance. Indeed, sometimes a young fellow will have his hair greased and braided,
and will dress himself in finery and paint, and simply ride about the camp, parading, in effect, before his fellow villagers, and, in particular, the maidens. This perhaps somewhat vain but surely splendid sight is not unusual in a camp. But no longer, now, would Hci venture forth in such a fashion, displaying himself, and his kaiila and regalia, in the impressive glory of such a primitive promenade. It seemed now he would scarcely show his face but to the men of the tribe, and, in particular, to his brothers of the Sleen Soldiers. The canhpi of the Yellow Knife had done more than strike flesh and bone; it had cut, too, deeply, perhaps unaccountably, or mysteriously, into the vanity, the pride and self-image of a man. The difficulty of relating to the disfigurement had perhaps been particularly cruel in Hci's case because he had been, apparently, extremely good-looking before this. Too, of course, he had had fine prospects, and had been rich and highly placed in the tribe. He was even the son of Mahpiyasapa, the civil chief of the Isbu. Then it seemed he found himself, at least to his own mind, marred, irrevocably, in one bloody moment.

  I could no longer see Hci now, in the dust from the kailiauk. Indeed, I could not even, yet, see the end of the great, long, moving mass of animals. Even at the speed at which the animals were traveling, it could take them between four and five Ahn to pass a given point.

  The vanity of human beings is interesting. From my own point of view it seemed that Hci retained a great deal of what must once have been an unusual degree of savage handsomeness. The marking of his countenance, though surely not what a fellow would be likely to elect for cosmetic purposes, did not seem to me sufficiently serious to warrant his reaction to it. It might even have been regarded by some, as I have suggested, in the rude heraldry of the plains, as an enhancement to their appearance. Surely the maidens of the Isbu did not seem to find the mark objectionable. Many of them would have been much pleased had Hci, such a splendid warrior, deigned to pay them court. But no longer did Hci come to sit cross-legged outside their lodges, playing the love flute, to lure them forth under the Gorean moons.

  "Do not have trouble with Hci," said Grunt to Cuwignaka. "Your brother, Canka, already has difficulties enough with Mahpiyasapa."