by John Norman
"What is important about Kantasawi?" I asked.
"It is the moon during which the Bento herd enters the country of the Kaiila. It is a time of the gathering of the Kaiila, of great hunts and dances."
"I would welcome your company," I said. I did not question him further on the nature of his business with the Kaiila.
"It is then decided," said Grunt. "We shall leave, and together, in the morning."
"Good," I said.
The girls, in their neck shackles, of course, did not know of our decision, nor of what might be involved in it. This was appropriate, for they were merely slaves.
"On the way to the country of the Kaiila, I would like to examine the field of the killings, the massacres," I said.
Grunt looked at me, puzzled.
"I have determinations to make there," I said.
"It is not far from here," he said.
"I thought not," I said.
"It will not be pleasant," he said.
I nodded. Yet I must determine if Kurii were among the fallen, and, if possible, their number.
"Tonight," said Grunt, getting up, "you may use Priscilla, if you wish."
"No," I said, "not tonight."
"I understand," said Grunt.
I remained for a time sitting by the fire. Then, after a time, I, too, retired.
15
The Fleer
"Here," said Grunt, pointing down from the saddle of the lofty kaiila, "you see the wagon tracks, the ruts?"
"Yes," I said. We found them where they had emerged from a small stream. The tracks were several days old.
"It will not be far now," he said.
"You have seen the smoke?" I asked. I referred to the slow liftings of smoke, rising from low buttes, behind us and to our left, and before us, and to the right. The distance between the two fires was probably some ten to fifteen pasangs.
"Yes," said Grunt, "but its intent is not hostile, as I read it. It is, rather, informational. It is doing little more than marking our passage."
Such signals are common on the plains, but perhaps not so common as mirror signals. The code in mirror signals, conveyed by the pacing and number of flashes, is very similar to that of the smoke signals. The signals, incidentally, are not a substitution cipher, for the languages of the red savages, not being written languages, in any conventional sense, do not have a standardized alphabet or syllabary. The signals, of which there are some fifty or sixty, have conventionalized meanings, such as 'We are Kaiila', 'Who are you?', 'Go back', 'We have counted coup' and 'We are returning to camp'. The common smoke signal is produced by placing greenery, such as branches, leaves or grass, on a fire. The smoke produced is then regulated in its ascent by the action of a robe or blanket, the manner of its releasing being a function of the conventions involved. At night such signals can be conveyed by the number and placement of fires, or by a single fire, alternately revealed and concealed by the action, again, of a robe or blanket. Other common signaling methods, incidentally, involve such things as the use of dust cast into the air, the movement of robes and the motions imparted to a kaiila.
"I do not care to be under surveillance in this fashion," I said.
"In a way it is heartening," said Grunt. "You see, they are letting you see that you are under surveillance. If their intentions were hostile, or immediately hostile, they would not be likely to be so open about the matter."
"That is true," I admitted.
"As I read the smoke," he said, "it is saying that a small party of white men is moving eastward. The smoke on the right is merely acknowledging the receipt of this message."
"I hope you are right," I said.
"That would be the customary reading," said Grunt. "To be sure, the customary meanings are sometimes rearranged to conceal the true meaning. For example, a message which commonly means that kailiauk have been sighted may, by prearrangement, be understood to communicate an intention of attack to a collaborative force."
"Marvelous," I said, bitterly.
Grunt shrugged. "These people," he said, "must survive with one another."
"Hold!" said Grunt, suddenly, tensing.
The rider had appeared very suddenly, over a small rise in front of us, some twenty yards away. He reined in his kaiila. Dust swept about the paws and legs of the beast.
"Do not reach for your weapons," said Grunt. "He is Fleer," he added.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"The hair," said Grunt, "is worn in the high pompadour, combed back."
"Like Corn Stalks," I said. The fellow's hair came down his back, flowing even over the spine of the kaiila. He was riding bareback. He carried a long, feathered lance, and a small, round shield, a war shield, on which were inscribed medicine signs.
The fellow moved his kaiila down the slope towards us.
"Be careful," said Grunt. "He has made two killings and has counted several coup. The scarlet circles on the feather indicate killings, the red marks on his legs, and on the nose of the kaiila, show coups."
The Fleer reined in his kaiila a few feet from us. Grunt relaxed in his saddle and smiled, broadly. He raised his right hand to the side of his face, the index and middle fingers extended upwards and held together, the other fingers closed.
"He has no saddle," said Grunt. "His body, and that of his kaiila, are still painted with coup marks. Undoubtedly he took part in the action of a few days ago."
Grunt then, still smiling, clasped his left hand with his right, and shook it. This, too, is used by some tribes as a sign for friend.
"Kodakiciyapi," said Grunt. "Hou, Koda. Hou, Mitakoda." 'Peace, friendship,' had said Grunt, 'Greetings, Friend. Greetings, my friend,' in Dust Leg. He then added, in Kaiila, for good measure, substantially the same message. "Hou, Kola. Hou, Mitakola. Olakota. Wolakota." 'Greetings, Friend. Greetings, my friend. Peace, Peace, Friendship.'
The fellow regarded us, not speaking, either verbally or in sign.
I was not certain that Grunt was wise in addressing him in the dialect of the Kaiila, for the Fleer and Kaiila are hereditary enemies. On the other hand, interestingly, the many affinities between their languages suggest a common ancestor. The distinction between dialects and languages, as the dialectical divergencies increase, can become, at times, almost arbitrary. Most people, for what it is worth, regard Fleer and Kaiila as different languages. Certainly the Fleer and Kaiila do, and few see much profit in arguing the point with them.
"Wopeton," said Grunt, pointing to me. "Wopeton," he said, pointing to himself. This is the word in both Dust Leg and Kaiila for a trader, or merchant.
The fellow did not drop his lance into the attack position, grasping it firmly, anchoring it under his right arm.
"Do not move," said Grunt.
The fellow then, kicking back with his heels into the flanks of his kaiila, moved his beast about us, and our party.
"Stand straight," called Grunt to the coffle, which now, in our pause, had put down its burdens. "Keep your heads up, but do not meet his eyes. It is you who are the merchandise, the beauties, the slaves, not he. It is not yours to examine, but to be examined, not yours to consider, but to be considered."
I thought Grunt was wise not to have the girls look into the eyes of the Fleer warrior. Such an exchange of glances, or looks, can be like an electric shock, an encounter almost fearfully significant. Who knows what each might recognize in the eyes of the other? Does she see in his eyes that he is one such as might be her master? Does he see in her eyes that she is one who could not help but acknowledge herself, and soon, despite what she might now take to be her desires, his helpless and natural slave? Sometimes, at as little as a meeting of eyes, masters and slaves know one another. "I must have her. She is mine," he tells himself. "I belong to him. I am his slave," her heart whispers to her.
This matter of eye contact is interesting and has many facets. One of the most initially frightening and disturbing things to Earth women brought to Gor as slaves is the way Gorean men look at them. Th
ey are not used to being looked at as women, truly, with appraisal, desire and ownership. This tends, in the beginning, when they are still new to their collars, to confuse and frighten them, but also, of course, as it will continue to do, and even more powerfully, to stimulate them. It is the first time that they have found themselves in the order of nature, and as what they are, and it is the first time that they have found themselves being looked at, frankly, and honestly, within the order of nature, and as what they are, females, appropriate objects of male predation and desire. This recognition of her femaleness, and this joy in release and self-discovery, often comes as a stunning revelation to the Earth female. Never again, once having discovered this, does she retreat to the conditioned ideals of neuterism and pseudomasculinity, nor, indeed, even if she desired to do so, would her masters permit it. Sometimes in training, incidentally, or as a discipline or punishment, the slave is not permitted to look into the eyes of the master. Indeed, sometimes, in training, she is not permitted to raise her eyes above the belt of the trainer. Also, it must be recognized that many slaves often, and perhaps all slaves sometimes, find it difficult to look into the eyes of the master. He, after all, holds total power over them and they fear to displease him. What if he should interpret her gaze as suggesting the least insubordination or insolence? Are they truly prepared to have the soles of their feet lashed or to live on bread crusts for the next five days? But, on the other hand, there is, on Gor, in circles of the mastery, no discouragement, commonly, of eye contact between masters and slaves.
Indeed, in the deep and profound relationships of love and bondage, such eye contact is usually welcomed and encouraged. What can be understood of the glances of masters and slaves by those who have been united only in lesser relationships? Too, to be sure, from the practical point of view, it is useful for a girl to be able to look into the eyes of the master. In this way she may be able to better read his moods, and desires, and, accordingly, be able the better to serve him, in the process perhaps saving herself a few cuffings and beatings, such as might be garnered by a less alert, more slothful, laxer girl. To be sure, all girls, upon occasion, are cuffed or beaten. This is good for them, and helps to remind them that they are slaves. Beauty in a slave girl, incidentally, and most slaves are beautiful, for this is the sort of woman that tends to be enslaved, does not excuse poor service. The most beautiful girl must serve with the same perfection as the lesser girl. Gorean masters are uncompromising on this point.
From the point of view of the master, too, not only is it pleasant to look into the eyes of a slave, but there are certain practical advantages attached to doing so. For example, one might, in her eyes, read desire, and thus order her to perform an act which she, even though a slave, might not have dared to beg to perform, or, say, by looking into her eyes, one might determine if she has been up to something or has neglected something to which she should have attended. Has she been into the sweets? Has she, perhaps gossiping and dawdling with the other girls, been amiss in the discharge of her duties? Perhaps the shopping has not yet been done? Perhaps the laundry has not yet been finished? Such infractions call for discipline. But perhaps, in lieu of discipline, the master will accept the performance of desperate placatory services on the part of the offending slave. The decision is his. I would, incidentally, advise the slave to be superb.
The Fleer warrior stopped his kaiila by Priscilla, the second to the last girl on the coffle, and lifted up her chin with the iron point of his lance. It was a trade point, some nine inches long, socketed, with two rivets.
He then backed his kaiila away from her.
Priscilla had not met his eyes, as Grunt had advised them.
Grunt did not want to do business with the Fleer. He wished only to traverse the area in peace.
The kaiila snorted and threw up its head, and squealed, its mouth wrenched by the jerking back of the jaw rope.
On its nose were red lines, coup marks, matching those on the warrior's legs. Its eyes were outlined with wide circles of black paint. On its left forequarter was drawn a zigzag line, indicating lightning. On its right forequarter there were five inverted "U's." Its right ear bore a V-shaped notch. On its left flank there was an opaque red circle with a waving red line descending from it. Also on the left flank, and on the right flank, too, there was a black, horizontal line, with a semicircular, curved blue line above it. The coup marks and the inverted "U's" were exploit markings. The inverted "U's" indicated kaiila stolen from the enemy, the mark itself being a stylized convention whose heritage, I did not doubt, might be traced back to another animal, and another world and time. The circles painted about the eyes and the line of lightning on the left forequarter were signs in the medicine of war. The medicine use of the circles was to enable the beast to see clearly and far and that of the line to impart to its motion something of the same suddenness, the same swiftness and power, as attends the movement of lightning, that dread natural phenomenon, itself. The opaque circle with the wavy line descending from it was a wound mark, the location of the mark indicating a former wound site, the redness standing for blood, of course, and the descending line for bleeding. I did not know the meaning of the notched ear, if it had a meaning, or of the other marks on the animal's flanks.
The Fleer moved his kaiila about, on the other side of the coffle, so that he might look at the girls, one by one. None of them, as Grunt had advised, met his eyes. They kept their heads high, and looked ahead, knowing themselves scrutinized as the pretty, meaningless beasts they were.
"Our friend," said Grunt to me, "is a member of the Blue-Sky Riders, a warrior society of the Fleer."
"One should be careful of such fellows?" I asked.
"I would think so," smiled Grunt.
"You are gathering this membership from the marks on the kaiila's flanks?" I asked.
"Yes," said Grunt, "the dark line of the earth, the overarching dome of the blue sky."
"I see," I said. Most tribes had several warrior societies. These societies had much influence within the tribes and, on an alternating basis, to preclude any one society from becoming predominant, a good deal of power. Their members were expected to set an example in the war and the hunt.
"I do not think he means us harm," said Grunt. "He is merely curious."
Warrior Societies in the tribes have many functions. They are a significant component of tribal existence. Such societies, on an alternating basis, do such things as keep order in the camps and on the treks. They function, too, as guards and police. It is part of their function, too, to keep the tribes apprised as to the movements of kailiauk and to organize and police tribal hunts. Such societies, too, it might be noted, are useful in various social ways. They provide institutions through which merit can be recognized and rewarded, and tribal traditions freshened, maintained and renewed. They preserve medicine bundles, keep ceremonies and teach histories. It is common for them to give feasts and hold dances. Their rivalries provide an outlet for intratribal aggression, and the attendant competitions supply an encouragement for effort and a stimulus to excellence. Within the society itself, of course, the members profit from the values of alliance, camaraderie and friendship. Needless to say, each society will have, too, its own medicines and mysteries.
I watched the Fleer, carefully. How intricate, actually, is the structure and governance of a tribe.
"The ear of his kaiila is notched," I said to Grunt. "Is that an eccentric mutilation or is it deliberate, perhaps meaningful?"
"It is meaningful," said Grunt. "It marks the kaiila as a prize animal, one especially trained for the hunt and war."
The girls continued to look ahead. They wisely avoided direct eye contact with the appraising warrior, thus perhaps precipitating an encounter crisis, in which, perhaps because of misconstrual or misinterpretation, he might feel prompted to action. There are various ways in which a woman may look into the eyes of a man. One way, of course, is with a direct and self-assured gaze, as though she might be the equal of the brute who
regards her, the way of the free woman. This is not to be recommended, of course, for a woman who is scantily clad and has a chain on her neck. Such an insolence, at the least, would be likely to win her beauty a bout with the five-stranded Gorean slave lash. Why do some women look into the eyes of a man in this fashion? It is an interesting question. Some think that it is their way, perhaps even half consciously, of challenging him to their subduing, of challenging him to make them a woman, a slave. It is not unusual for a woman, at any rate, who has looked into the eyes of a man in that fashion to discover, later, that she is looking into his eyes in quite a different fashion, that whereas she once may have regarded him directly, and insolently, she now, perhaps kneeling stripped at his feet, in a locked collar, bearing his identificatory device, lifts her eyes to his rather differently, doing so now as a mere slave girl to her master.
The Fleer backed his kaiila from Ginger, the animal almost crouching back on its haunches.
There was blood about the jaws, and lips, of the kaiila, from where, earlier, he had jerked back on the jaw rope. I saw the muscles within the kaiila's flanks move beneath the paint.
"Oh!" said the red-haired girl, first in the coffle, startled as the point of his lance had scraped the back of the black-iron collar on her neck. Then she was quiet. He was lifting her sheen of red hair on the point of his lance, moving it in the sun, to see it glisten and reflect the light. He was curious as to such hair. It is extremely rare in the Barrens. Grunt had not permitted her to cut it, or even to trim and shape it. That could be done later. Now he wanted it to grow, and to be, apparently, as long as possible. The Fleer let the hair fall from the lance, and then he laid the side of the metal point of the lance on the edge of the girl's collar, the metal touching the right side of her neck. She shuddered, but she did not otherwise move. She, a slave, was under good discipline. I thought that was fortunate for her. Her movement, of course, the shuddering, this responsiveness, was revealing, and would have been to any man familiar with female slaves. It did not escape the detection of the Fleer.
