Those who did not pause at the tents made their way to areas bounded by leather strung between wooden posts. Many stood before each of these areas, and therefore it was difficult to make out what went on beyond the leather. Males were in the areas, yet the backs of other males and their slavewomen hid what was done there. Curiosity moved me to my feet again, and I summoned my warriors.
“Comir, you are to remain here with the kand,” I said, “Binat shall remain with you, while Larid and Fayan accompany me. We should not be long.”
Fayan and Larid rose to their feet with smiles as Comir and Binat nodded unhappily. “We hear, Jalav,” said Comir, her green eyes clear, “yet next it shall be my place and Binat’s to accompany you.”
“Perhaps,” I said and smiled at her. “All shall be known in Mida’s time.”
Larid, Fayan, and I left them then, and made our way toward the closest of the areas surrounded by onlookers. Soon our path was crossed by a small male, thin and poorly muscled. His short cropped hair seemed never to have been washed nor combed, and badly soiled and stained was his covering. He rocked upon his feet, as though attempting to stand in the midst of an earth tremor, and gazed upon each of my warriors, and myself with large, rounded eyes. He then drew himself up to his full height, then bowed low before us.
“Ladies,” said he in a slurred and shaky voice, “I would offer my personal welcome to Bellinard’s fair, and ask that you show me the location of your pavilion. I shall patronize it most gladly, foregoing even the taste of another brew for such delights as yourselves.” Again he peered at us, expelled air noisily, then pointed with an unsteady finger. “I trust that those blades are not worn in the presence of customers? They would be somewhat constricting, I fear.”
Larid, Fayan and I exchanged glances, but the male’s words meant nothing to any of us. Larid grinned.
“He is taken with daru sickness,” she said. “His words have no meaning for us. It is not worth considering.”
Fayan and I agreed with this, and she brushed the male from our path as we continued on. The male sputtered and screeched behind us, but we paid him no notice.
We reached the throng about the area we intended to see, and made our way forward to the leather boundary. Those who stood before us we moved to the side, and many turned angrily, intending, perhaps, to protest, yet their protests were quickly swallowed at sight of us, for few even wore daggers, not to speak of swords. These city males were poor indeed, yet their slavewomen clung to them, as though we intended such women harm. Where is the warrior, I wonder, who would have the stomach to harm so low a creature as a slavewoman?
The open space of the area, we saw at last, contained males of a different sort. Large and well-made, some even had hair of a decent length. They wore the coverings of all city males, although they held spears within their grasp, and stood about in groups of two and three, relaxed and speaking with each other, and gazing toward those who stood at a place marked in the grass by a wide length of bright cloth. Those at the cloth aimed their spears for a target board in easy distance from the cloth, and all did indeed reach the board, yet some of the casts were so poor, that had the board been a living enemy, surely it would have remained a living enemy. My warriors laughed at these attempts, and I, too, smiled at the clumsiness; none of the males within the area shared our amusement. One turned at the sound of our laughter, frowned toward us, and then approached. He was as large as the others, with shorn hair of a reddish tinge, and he carried his spear.
“What do you girls do here, laughing at warriors and hunters?” he demanded quite angrily, glaring from one to the other of us. “Have you never been taught proper behavior? You have obviously not been taught manner of dress.”
“What else is one to do in the presence of lack of ability?” I asked rather mildly, wondering at his anger. “Is the one lacking ability to be encouraged falsely, and thereby sent to a quick and useless death? One may cast badly at a board in safety, but not at the hadat, lenga, or falth.”
“You speak as though you have some knowledge of such,” the male mused as he leaned upon the shaft of his spear, all anger gone out of him. “Are your men hunters that you know these things so well?”
“We are the hunters!” returned Fayan with heat. “Males are only good for the sleeping leather!”
“Indeed,” murmured the male, looking upon Fayan with annoyance. “Perhaps, then, you three—hunters—would care to enter our competition? The prize for first throw is a well-filled purse—and first throw is thus far mine.”
My warriors looked toward me, and the male regarded me as well. That they played at spear casting was clear, yet I didn’t know the meaning of a “well-filled purse.” I considered the matter briefly and then I shrugged.
“There is no reason for refusal,” I said, at which Larid and Fayan grinned, “but we have not brought our spears with us...
“Spears will be provided,” the male answered in satisfaction, then he stepped to one side. “Enter the field now, and I shall see to the arrangements.”
Fayan, Larid and I stepped over the strung leather, and followed the male to the line of cloth. Those others standing about with spears followed as well, and soon we were before three males, of greater age than the others. All shorthaired were these males, and they looked at my warriors and me with distaste.
“What foolishness is this, Nidisar?” one of the males demanded. “For what reason do you bring pavilion-shes to our field?”
“They are not pavilion-shes, Arbitrator,” the male addressed as Nidisar replied with a laugh. “These are mighty hunters you see before you, and they think little of our ability. I have therefore invited their participation in our competition, and they have graciously agreed to grant us an exhibition of their skill.”
“Many here are in need of such exhibition,” Fayan commented, looking about her. “To see the thing done properly precedes one’s doing it so oneself.”
The male who had been called Arbitrator had been about to speak in further anger, but he halted upon hearing Fayan’s words. He gazed at Fayan thoughtfully as the other males muttered behind and about us, then he nodded his head.
“Very well,” he said. “The competition is open to all hunters and warriors. They shall be allowed their throws. Nidisar, accompany them to the line.”
He called Nidisar, who was well pleased, waved a hand toward the cloth and then walked there. My warriors and I followed, stopping, as did he, just before the cloth. Many stood about us with spears, and all those many smiled as well. A short distance before us was the target board, to which Nidisar pointed.
“See you there, upon the target,” said he, indicating the board which was much marked by the points of spears. “Do you see the stroke of black at the center of the ring? The stroke indicates my throw, which none have as yet equaled or bettered. You must throw toward that stroke, and attempt to approach it.”
We glanced at the stroke and nodded, and then were handed spears. The length of the spear, just short of three paces, was like those of the Midanna, yet the shaft was slightly thinner. It gave the spear a pleasant lightness as I weighed it in my hand, feeling for its balance, and Larid and Fayan too were pleased.
“Should the line be crossed in your throw, you will be disqualified,” said Nidisar, indicating the cloth. “Which of you will throw first?”