“The signs have vanished,” she said. “Why do we linger in the reserve?”
“Because the signs have vanished,” I said.
“I do not understand,” she said.
“We will be met,” I said. “We will have a guide.”
“And signs are not to be risked?” she said.
“Not beyond this point, I gather,” I said.
“I see,” she said.
Chapter Eight
It was now the next morning.
I had had the second watch.
“Do not disturb him,” I said.
“Does he know we are here?” asked Pertinax.
“Certainly,” I said. “Sit here, cross-legged, beside me.” I looked over my shoulder, to the girls. “Slaves, kneel,” I said.
Pertinax assumed the suggested position, and, behind us, Cecily and Constantina knelt down.
They were still bound.
The rope leashes dangled from their necks.
We spoke in whispers.
We were some twenty yards from the fellow, who was engaged, I supposed, in certain martial exercises, certainly of a rather stylized, formal nature. I had never seen anything exactly like this before. He was standing, and sometimes wheeled about, gracefully. He had two hands on an unusual sword, with which he described certain evolutions, thrusts, strokes, a return to guard, and so on. It seemed ritualistic, but he was certainly intent on what he was doing. I had the sense of a severe concentration.
I was reminded somewhat of the Pyrrhic dances of Gorean infantry, particularly of those infantries who specialized in the tactics of the phalanx, rather than the shifting, melting, forming, reforming tactics of the squares. Nothing stood against the phalanx on level ground. The squares, however, were more flexible, and better suited to an uneven terrain. The Pyrrhic dances were used primarily as training exercises, but also figured in parades and martial displays, men shouting, spears clashing rhythmically on shields, the spear hedge rising and falling, wheeling about, a thousand spears in unison, this all to music. It is very impressive. This fellow’s exercises, however, were done by a single man and, as nearly as I could determine, from the distance, in silence.
He wore a light, loose, white robe, which came about to his knees. It had wide, but short, sleeves.
“I have been told of such fellows,” said Pertinax. “He is Tuchuk.”
“I do not think so,” I said. He did not look Tuchuk to me. The Tuchuks are, on the whole, short and broad, strong fellows, agile riders. This fellow seemed a bit taller, and certainly thinner, more lithe, more pantherlike.
“Tuchuk,” said Pertinax.
“There is no facial scarring,” I said.
“Surely not all Tuchuks are disfigured,” said Pertinax.
“They do not think of it as disfigurement,” I said, “but, if anything, as enhancement.”
“Surely they are not all scarred,” said Pertinax.
“True,” I said. And, indeed, it was true that not all Tuchuks were scarred. The scars were not easily come by. They had to be earned, by success in war, and such.
As noted, I had had the second watch.
In the neighborhood of dawn I had seen him through the trees. He was bare-headed. He carried a single sword. I saw him, and he saw me. We did not exchange a greeting. He determined that most of our camp was asleep, and then withdrew, to wait. He sat cross-legged for a time, facing our camp. Then, after a time, he had risen, unsheathed his unusual sword, and commenced his exercises.
I had the sense he did not wish to disturb the camp, but thought it appropriate to wait until it was awake.
This, I took, somewhat to my surprise, as politeness.
To be sure, it is dangerous to come on a sleeping warrior, which he would presumably take Pertinax to be. Normally one makes certain, if one’s intentions are peaceful, that any approached camp is well aware of one’s approach, even to one’s singing, calling out, pounding on a shield, or such. A surreptitious advance is usually taken as an act of war.
He took little note of the girls, other, I suppose, than to note that their wrists were bound behind them, and each, by the neck, was fastened to a tree. They were, in effect, tethered, as might have been kaiila. From his vantage point, he would not have been much aware of their quality as females, for example, their value as properties. To be sure, Constantina was priceless, as she was a free woman.
When he had begun his exercises I had come forward to the point where I might sit, and watch. I was careful, of course, not to approach too closely.
When Pertinax awakened, he discovered my absence, doubtless to his considerable uneasiness, and had seemingly, swiftly, cast about to locate me, which event took place shortly. He then awakened the girls and freed their rope leashes from the respective trees to which they had been fastened, and approached me, followed by the girls, still bound, but the leashes now dangling from their necks.
After a time, the fellow sheathed his sword, bowed to the southeast, and turned to face us.
He approached to within about fifteen feet of us, and Pertinax and I, which seemed appropriate, rose to our feet. In this way, though I do not think Pertinax was aware of this, we showed him honor. For us to have remained recumbent, so to speak, would have made it seem rather as though he was an inferior, reporting to us. “Remain kneeling,” I cautioned the girls. Cecily, of course, well aware that she was in the presence of a male, and one presumably free, had not stirred. Constantina, however, had seemed on the point of rising. At my word, of course, though she was not much pleased about it, she remained on her knees.
I lifted my right hand. “Tal,” I said. I hoped he spoke Gorean.
He seemed surprised that I had greeted him first. As he had come, presumably, to render us a service, to conduct us somewhere, his station, quite possibly, would have been subordinate to ours. I had never, however, put great store in protocol. I am English, but I was not derived, as far as I knew, at least recently, from strata in English society where such formalities or precedences much mattered. Too, I had lived for several months in the colonies, so to speak, and, as is well known, they tend be careless in such matters, even to the point of embarrassment. I sensed, however, that proprieties of one sort or another might be not only extremely important to this fellow, but might, to a large extent, govern his life.
“Tal,” he said.
“Tal,” said Pertinax. “I gather you have come to meet us. You are the first Tuchuk I have met.”
The fellow looked puzzled.
I was reasonably certain he was not Tuchuk. The Tuchuk face is commonly swarthy and broad. This fellow’s face, a subtle yellowish brown, was narrower than would be common with the Tuchuk. He did have high cheekbones. He did have the epicanthic fold.
I had little doubt this was a fellow of the sort of whom I had heard yesterday on the beach, the sort spoken of as “strange men.”
“How are the bosk?” I said to him.
“Some are in the forest,” he said, uncertainly, “outside the reserve.”
He would be referring to wild bosk, which can be surly and territorial. In forested areas, they are substantially forward horned, and attack, head down, directly. The Tuchuk bosk, on the other hand, usually have wide, spreading horns. When angered they attack, a bit to the side, to tear the enemy. They also hook nicely, and, if one is caught on the horn, one can be hurled a hundred feet. They are large and powerful. The straighter horns of the forest bosk are presumably an adaptation to the arboreal environment. The plains bosk are, as suggested, usually more widely
