"If you are perfectly cooperative," I had told the terrorized girl, "you may, afterward, be permitted to live as a woman-and a slave."
"I will be perfectly cooperative," she had whispered, "-Master."
I smiled at her.
"No, Master," she said, "I am not as terrified as I was last night."
"Good," I said.
I hoisted her to the back of the kaiila and she, to keep her balance,momentarily frightened, clutched at its mane, fastening her fingers in it. I took a long strap and tied it about her right ankle and then, drawing it tight under the belly of the kaiila, looped it twice about her left ankle. I then jerked the entire arrangement tight again and fastened her left ankle in place. Her thighs were then tied tightly about the great chest of the kaiila; they were held, bound as she was, flattened against, and pressed deeply into, the body of the animal; I saw them move with its breathing; on thier interiors, later, would be found the marks of the beast's warm, silken coat and oil from its hide.
The beast did not have reins but a neck rope. I took this neck rope, a long one, and slung it about the pommel of my saddle.
"Master has not seen fit to permit me clothing," she said.
"That is true," I said. I had taken from her even the insignificant rags I had permitted her to wear, weeks ago, in what was thenthe compound of the Waniyanpi.
"I shall be brought back from the Barrens, then," she said, "as a naked slave.
"Yes," I said. This seemed fitting for one who had entered them as a proud free woman, and an agent of Kurii.
We were on a rise near the victory camp. It was near dawn.
I could see some folk making their way towards our position.
Farewells were rapidly spoken.
I then slung some supplies on the kaiila on which the girl tied, was mounted. These I put both before her and behind her. Among those behind her, in saddle sacks, balanced by sheaves of meat, was a translator.
I mounted.
I then made my way, slowly, down from the rise, moving in a westward direction.
I did not take with me the tarn I had captured in the tarn country. I thought it preferable that it, a trained bird, be left with the Kaiila. Tarns were precious to them, particularly in connection with acquiring new tarns. They would need every tarn, I conjectured, which they could obtain. Indeed, I suspected that they would soon attempt to obtain them even through channels of trade. As the appearance of kaiila in the Barrens, long ago, had wrought a social and cultraul revolution among the tribes, so, too, I suspected, now might the tarn. The tarn, as the kaiila before it, might now bring about a transformation on the prairies. I was apprehensive when I thought of the skills of red savages on the kaiila. How fearsome might they then become astride the mighty tarn. Yet, it seemed to me that the mastery of the tarn, in its way, was perhaps the key to assuring the continued stability of the Barrens. If tribes without tarns could not hold their own against those who had them, then these other trives would presumably be forced from their lands and into westward migration or so, it seemed clear that the integrity of the Ihanke itself might be threatened. Too often in the histories of worlds had the displacements of peoples become the prelude to lengthy and bloody wars. Stability's key, in the paradoxes of martial reality, is commonly combative parity.
I stopped the kaiila and turned about, to look back. Many of my friends were on the rise near the camp.
Zarendargar was not among them.
Two days ago I had been summoned to his lodge. There, with Zarendargar, was the eighth Kur, unbound.
This Kur, according to the beast, had been rescinded against Zarendargar.
He was now to be recalled to the Steel Worlds.
"Surely you do not believe this?" I asked Zarendargar, Half-Ear, though the translator.
"It was for this reason that my comrade sought me here, at great risk," he said.
"Do you believe that?" I asked.
"Yes," said Zarendargar. "It is true."
"How do you know?" I asked.
"He has sworn it, by the rings," said Zarendargar.
"You will go with him?" I asked.
"Yes," said Zarendargar. "A rendezvous with the ship has been arranged."
"When will you leave?" I asked.
"tomorrow," said Zarendargar. "The rendezvous is distant. The trek will be long."
"Why has this sentence been rescinded?" I asked.
"A shift in political power has taken place in the Cliffs," he said. "Now, too, once again, it seems my services are desired."
"To what end?" I asked.
The lips of that great shaggy face curled back, revealing the fangs. It was a Kur smile. "I do not feel that it would be appropriate to say," came from the translator.
"I suppose," I said, "as one who has upon occasion espoused the cause of Priest-Kings, I should attempt to slay you."
"Surely it was not for that reason that you came to the Barrens," he said.
"No," I smiled.
"Nor was it for that reason that I had the story hide transmitted to the west."
"You did that deliberately?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "In this fashion I sought to draw the Death Squad to the Barrens where they might be dealt with and sought, too, to enlist your aid in my battle with them."
"I do not understand," I said.
"I assumed," he said, "they would attempt to enlist the aid of men in what, from their point of view, would seem to be a project of interest to men, my apprehension and destruction. Surely they would attempt to contact Samos of Port Kar and, in this, would presumably be apprising you, too, of their plans."
"We rendered them no assistance," I said. "They had to make other arrangements, with mercenaries."
"That is what I thought would happen," said Zarendargar. "I was a better judge of men, I think, then they."
"Perhaps," I said.
"You would come to the Barrens," he said. "I was sure of it."
"You were correct," I smiled.
"They did not expect you to come to the Barrens," he said.
"Of course not," I said.
"That was a serious miscalculation on their part," he said. "But perhaps they could not be blamed for it. They could not know something which I knew."
"What is that?" I asked.
"That once, long ago," he said, "we shared paga."
Yesterday, early, Zarendargar and his companion had left the victory camp. I did not, of course, attempt to follow them.
I continued to look back to the rise behind me. I lifted my hand to the folk gathered there.
Mahpiyasapa, civil chieftain of the Isbu Kaiila, was there, and his friend, Kahintokapa, of the Casmu, he of the Yellow-Kaiila Riders. His shield still bore the visage of Zarendargar. Grunt was there, too, and his son, by the Dust-Leg women. With him, as well, was his friend Wagmezahu, Corn Stalks, of the Fleer, who had come with the Fleer to Council Rock. Tomorrow Grunt and his son, with the Hobarts, and various slaves, would set forth for the Dust-Leg country, where he would winter. I saw Canka and Winyela, and Wasnapohdi and Waiyeyeca; and Oiputake, with her master, Wapike. Many others were there, too, come out from the camp, men such as Akihoka and Keglezeal. Too, prominent among those on the rise were two I had known even to the touchings of wounds, even to the comminglings of blood, my friends, my brothers, Hci and Cuwignaka.
I then turned away, again, and again, slowly, took my way westward, toward the Ihanke.
Toward noon I did look upward once, and behind me. In the sky there was a great black tarn.
I lifted my hand and arm to it, the palm of my hand facing inward, in Gorean salute. It turned then, taking its way eastward, I watched it until it disappeared, a distant speck in the blue skies over the vastness of the Barrens.
I then continued on my way, the neck tether of the kaiila behind me looped about the pommel of my saddle.