The young man then said something to his fellow near the red-haired girl. Thenhe gestured to the helpless female, standing naked and straight before him, herhead up, her hands pressed tightly to her thighs.
Grunt and I watched as the young man's collar was tied on her throat. She wascollared.
Grunt's fists were clenched, futilely.
The red-haired girl looked at her new master in awe. He was tall, and strong,and savagely handsome. Her entire body seemed transfused with "fear, and emotionand excitement. It was such a brute who owned her. Too, she realized thattension had been involved in her claimancy. In spite of countervailingconsiderations, perhaps serious ones, he had decided that it would be he, and noother, who would own her. She knew then that she, a mere slave, was the objectof strong desire.
"I do not like it," said Grunt. "It will mean trouble."
"Perhaps," I said.
The young man regarded his new slave, pleasurably, approvingly. She blushedhotly under his inspection, but did no flinch nor turn her eyes from his. Thenhis eyes grew stem and she shrank back. She saw then that she could be only hislave, and that she would be uncompromisingly mastered. But even this, I saw,pleased her.
"You have one slim chance for life," said Pimples. "That is to serve him, in allthings, and to be pleasing to him, fully, and in all ways."
"I will," she whispered. "I will."
Then the eyes of the young master and the new slave again met. This time, againunable to meet his gaze, she lowered her head. She was very beautiful, her headbowed before her master.
She trembled.
I saw that she was as excited by, and enamored of, her master, as he of her.
"Do not simply stand there, you little fool," said Pimples. "Kneel down beforehim, and put your head to the grass."
Quickly the red-haired girl obeyed.
I looked at her, kneeling before her master. Doubtless she would be worked hardand used much. She would not be in any doubt as to her slavery, either in hiscamp or in his lodge.
The young man said something.
"Get up," said Pimples. "Go to him. You may kiss his foot and ankle."
The red-haired girl got up and went to the young warrior. He looked verysplendid in his paint and feathers, with the lance, astride the kaiila. Shepressed her lips to his moccasin and then to his ankle, kissing him softly. Thenshe looked up at him, and backed away, his, stripped save for the beaded collarknotted at her throat.
"You have been highly honored," said Pimples to the red-haired girl. "Althoughyou are only a white slave, already you have been permitted to put your lips tohis body."
The young man then lowered his lance, until the long point of the narrow,tapering, bluish flint was but inches from her bared breasts. He gestured at herwith the lance. "Winyela," he said.
"You have been named," said Pimples. "Put down your head. Put your fingers toyour breasts. Say, "Ho, Itancanka, Winyela'.
The red-haired girl did this. She then lifted her head again, to her master.
"Winyela," he said.
"Winyela," she repeated.
He then turned his attention elsewhere, to the trade goods, mostly Grunt's,through which two of his warriors had been rummaging. Hatchets, mirrors, knivesand cloths, and such, were now much scattered about, on the grass. He urged hiskaiila to the place. Such concern might seem out of place in a loftyBlotanhunka. Too, the girl must understand that she is nothing.
"I have been named," said the red-haired girl.
"Yes, Winyela," said Pimples. I smiled to myself. At last the red-haired girlhad a name.
"It is a beautiful name," said the red-haired girl.
"It means "Female Animal'," said Pimples.
"Oh," said the red-haired girl, taken aback.
"It is quite a good name, considering that you are a slave," said Pimples.
"Female slaves are often given names such as Wasna, Grease, or Cespu, Scab orWart, until they prove themselves sufficiently pleasing to have earned a better.
I myself was called Wasnapohdi, which means "Pimples."
"You are still called "Pimples'," said the red-haired girl.
"Apparently I have not yet earned a better," smiled Pimples.
"Winyela," said the red-haired girl. "It is a beautiful sound."
"Do not forget its meaning," said Pimples. "She-animal. Female animal."
"No," said the red-haired girl.
"And see that you prove to be a perfect she-animal to him, obedient, shamelessand devoted, in all things."
"A slave," said the girl.
"Yes," said Pimples.
"Do you think he would let me be less," she asked, smiling, timidly, "such aman?"
"No," said Pimples. "I, too, was once slave among the Kaiila. I know such men.
They will accept nothing less than abject, perfect service from a woman."
"Even if he would permit me less," said the red-haired girl, "I would not want,even of my own free will, to give him less."
I envied the young warrior his lovely, red-haired slave, Winyela. What man,truly, honestly, red or white, would not? But perhaps one must have had a slave,or least once in ones life, to understand this.
"Look at the happy, shameless slave," I said. "She may have been born for thatcollar."
"Perhaps," said Grunt.
"It may be just as well that your remonstrances proved ineffective."
"She was meant for Mahpiyasapa, Black Clouds," said Grant. "That lad andMahpiyasapa are both of the Isbu Band. There is sure to be trouble. Too, I amnot getting paid for her."
"That is true," I granted him. "What did the Yellow-Kailla Rider say to you," Iasked, "after he had spoken to the youth, before he had returned to his place?"
That the youth was within his rights," said Grunt, "that he could claim her,under the circumstances, by right of slave capture."
"Which he did?" I asked.
"Of course," said Grunt. "Would you not have done the same?"
"Perhaps," I smiled.
"At any rate, it is done now," said Grunt. "She is in his collar."
That was true. The collar had now been tied on her neck. She was now,completely, the young man's property.
I looked at her. I saw that she was prepared to serve him well.
I noted, suddenly, looking about, that one of the two warriors who had beenbusying himself in the trade goods was now reaching for a certain bundle on myown kailla. It was that in which, rolled, was the story bide and, also, thetranslator I had brought from Port Kar, that acquired from Kog and Sardak, theKurii, in the abandoned tam complex, in the delta.
"Do not," said Grunt to me.
But I was the side of the kaiila and firmly, I took the hand of the warrior fromthe bundle, and put it to the side. He looked at me, startled.
Our hands darted to our knife sheaths.
The lance of the young warrior interposed itself between us. We stepped apart.
I pointed to the goods on my pack kaiila. "Mine!" I said, in Gorean. Too, Ijerked my thumb toward my body. This, in sign, signifies "I," "Me," or "Mine," depending on the context.
"Howo, Akiboka," said the young man to the fellow squared off against me, bewhose hand I had taken from the packing on the kaiila. "Howo, Keglezela," saidhe then to the other fellow. He then slowly brought his kaiila about and walkedit slowly, to where the red youth, Cuwignaka, Woman's Dress, whom I had freedfrom the stakes, clung, supporting himself, to the Kaiila lance. He had donnedthe white dress of his own accord. He had shortened it earlier, and torn it atthe side, to permit himself more freedom of movement in it. The lad seemed weak,clinging to the lance. He had not, however, in the presence of the othersavages, deigned to eat or drink. They must be aware, I supposed, of thisgesture on his part. They would doubtless respect that. He, in spite of hisgarb, was showing them that he, in this at least, could be Kaiila. The twofellows, Akiboka and Keglezela, followed the young warrior. I adjusted thepacking ropes on the kaiila, securing the goods firmly in place. It interestedme that the young warrior had interposed his will as he had. In this, for somereason, he had protected me. I did not know him, however. I had never seen himbefore. It made no sense to me that he had acted as he had. I was puzzled. Whyhad be done this?