"I do not think you are my match," I told him.
"If you do not," he said, "they will strip me, and put bells on me, and run me for boys on kaiila, as sport for their lances!"
Of the soldiers there had been only five survivors from the fray, Alfred, and four of his officers. Only the four officers had been permitted to draw lots. Of these three would be run for the boys, in the grasses, stripped and belled for lance sport. The other woiuld be returned west of the Ihanke, that an account might be rendered of what had occurred in the Barrens.
"Please!" begged Alfred.
"They respect you as a commander," I said, "else they would not permit you this option."
"Please," he said.
I did not wish to see Alfred, belled as though he might be a slave girl, running, cut and bleeding under the lances. Circles are painted on the body. Points are scored. The least vulnerable areas, of course, are the first targets. The boys can make such a game last as long as an Ahn.
"You are of the Warriors, are you not?" asked Alfred.
"Yes," I said. My collar had been removed yesterday. I was now free.
"Please," he said.
I took up the sword from the flat rock.
It was soon finished.
I had then wiped the blade.
Chapter 53
THE RED-HAIRED SLAVE GIRL
The naked, large-bosomed, red-haired slave licked and kissed at me and then, when I wished, unable to help herself, cried out her yielding to me.
She was still muchly covered with mud and had been somewhat beaten.
I had acquired her as a portion of my share of the loot from the Yellow Knives.
It seemed that when she had come to my lodge she had thought that her life with me, I being white, might be easier than it would be with a red master.
She had then spent the night outside the lodge, naked, in the rain, her hands tied behind her back, her neck tied to a stake.
She lay beneath me in the mud. I had freed her hands, but her neck was still fastened to the stake.
"Master," she gasped. "Master!"
"Cespu, Mira!" I called. The girls came running, summoned slaves.
I indicated the large-bosomed redhead at my feet.
"Free her of the stake," I said, "and then clean and comb her. Make her sparkle."
"Yes, Master," said Mira.
"Then take her to Grunt, as a present," I said. "He will know what to do with her."
"Yes, Master," said Cespu.
"Yes, Master," said Mira.
Chapter 54
I RETURN TO MY LODGE
" 'Where is this one called Cuwignaka? " translated the young, light-skinned, muscular fellow.
The warrior who had spoken was Fleer. This could be told at a glance from the hair, which was worn in a high, combed-back pompadour. He carried a feather lance, with a long iron point, a trade point, socketed, fastened to the lance shaft with two rivets. His kaiila had a notched right ear. It bore various coup marks and exploited markings. Among these, on the flanks, on each flank, therewas a society marking, a flat black line, a semicircular, curved blue line above it, the line of the earth, the overarching blue dome of the sky above it. He was a member of the Blue-Sky Riders. Grunt and I had seen him once before, long ago, in the vicinity of the field of a massacre, where a wagon train had been destroyed. Only recently had we learned that he was a war chief of the Fleer.
"I am Cuwignaka," said Cuwignaka, stepping forward. He now wore a breechclout. Yet still, the shreds of the white dress clung about his upper body. Cuwignaka's words were translated by the light-skinned lad.
"I had thought," Gurnt had told me yesterday, "that I was dead, but I discovered that I was not dead. I had a son, among the Dust Legs."
Grunt had found the lad in visiting the Dust Legs after the massacure of the summer camp. It had been largely through Grunt's influence that Dust Legs had made the long journey to Council Rock, to aid the Kaiila. The lad's mother, long ago, had loved Grunt. It was said she still lived. The lad had something of Grunt's facility with languages and his father's shrewdness and good sense in trading. He had been one of the few Dust Legs who was permitted in Fleer encampments and had lived with them. He, originally conversing in sign had subsequently learned their language.
Dust Legs and Kaiila, as I have earlier indicated, are closely related languages. Kaiila is commonly, interestingly, regarded as a dialectical version of Dust Leg. Dust Leg and Fleer are also related, but much more distantly. Commonly Dust Legs and Fleer, when they meet in peace, communicate in the lingua franca of the plains, sign. The lad, it was said, had children of his own.
The lad and Grunt had decided to go into partnership, this being thought to be to the advantage of both. Grunt could speak Gorean and the lad was fluent not only in Dust Leg and Kaiila, but Fleer as well. I had little doubt they would become famous on the plains. This winder, instead of returning west of the Ihanke, Grunt had told me that he planned to winter with Dust Legs. There was a woman there, for whom he had once cared. He was eager to see her again. It seemed she had not forgotten him.
The Fleer warrior regarded Cuwignaka. His kaiila moved under him, resteless with its energy.
" 'I have heard of you, " translated the light-skinned lad. " 'It is well knwn on the plains that there is one among the Kaiila whose name is Cuwignaka, Woman's Dress, who has no quarrel with the Fleer. »
Cuwignaka, standing, his arms folded, regarded the Fleer warrior. He said nothing.
"It is because of you," said the Fleer warrior, "why we came to Council Rock."
Cuwignaka looked puzzled.
"Do you know," asked the Fleer warrior, "why we came to Council Rock, and, because of us, the Sleen came?"
"No," said Cuwignaka. The Fleer and Sleen are allies.
"Because," laughed the warrior, "we have no quarrel with Cuwignaka!"
He then turned his kaiila about, by its jaw rope, and rode away.
"There will be peace, I think," I said, "between the Kaiila, and the Fleer and Sleen."
"No," said Canka, standing nearby, "I do not think so. It is only, rather, that it was a noble warrior's gesture."
"I did not think they were capable of such," said a man.
"Of course they are," said Hci, with us. "They are fine enemies."
"Canka does not think there will be peace," I said.
"Let us hope not," said Hci.
"I do not understand," I said.
"Ah, Tatankasa, Mitakola," said Hci, "I fear you will never understand us, or folk such as the Fleer or Sleen."
"Perhaps not," I said.
"War is part of our life," he said. "It is what makes us what we are. I do not think Kaiila would be the Kaiila without the Fleer, or the Fleer the Fleer, without the Kaiila."
"Good friends are priceless," said a man. "So, too, are fine enemies."
"Great enemies," said a man, "make great peoples."
"Do not be concerned, Mitakola," said Cuwignaka. "I do not think I understand them either. Tehy are my people, and I love them, but I, too, may never understand them."
I watched the Fleer riding away. "That is reassuring," I said.
"You are now a warrior, my friend," said Hci to Cuwignaka. "What name will you take? Hve you chosen one?"
"Will you take again your old name?" asked Canka. "Petuspe?" 'Petuspe', in Kaiila, means "Fire Brand."
"No," said Cuwignaka. "And I have chosen my name."
"What will it be?" asked Hci.
"Cuwignaka," smiled Cuwignaka.
Hci smiled. "You have made it a warrior's name," he said. "Others, too, might now take it as such."
"What of you, Hci, my friend?" asked Cuwignaka. "Long ago you were known as Ihdazicaka. Will you take again that name?" 'Idazicaka', in Kaiila, means "One-Who-Counts-Himself-Rich."
"No," smiled Hci. "Now, although I feel I am one who may truly account hiself rich, I shall keep the name Hci. It is a name of which I have taken my highest coups. More importantly, in the time that I have worn that name, I have, for the first time in my life, found friends.