'Yes,' said Hci. 'I was wrong.'
'is he dead?' I asked.
'No,' said Cuwignaka. 'He is sleeping.'
Chapter 32
WHAT CUWIGNAKA DECIDED TO DO
'They enjoy their revels,' said Cuwignaka.
We lay on our stomachs, on the small rise, overlooking the campfires of the victors.
I had a determination to make. Cuwignaka, too, who had insisted on accompanying me, also had a determination to make, something in which he was inerested.
'There,' I said, 'in the great circle, in places of honor, the beasts, you see?'
'Yes,' said Cuwignaka.
'They are Kurii,' I said. 'They were with the mercenaries of Alfred, the captain of Port Olni. They were housed in the small wagons near the end of his column.'
'When I was with the column, as a slave,' said Cuwignaka, 'I never saw them.'
'Their presence was kept secret, too, from the soldiers,' I said.
'You are sure they are not from the medicine world?' asked Cuwignaka.
'You do not believe in the medicine world,' I said.
'I believe in what I see,' said Cuwignaka.
'They are as real as you or I,' I said. 'They have their histories and their purposes, like men.'
'They terrify my people,' said Cuwignaka.
'Do you see the largest one?' I asked.
'Yes,' said Cuwignaka. It was squatting in a place of great honor, at the height of the large circle, its weight resting on its feet and the knuckles of its hands. On the other side of it sat the three war chiefs of the Yellow Knives, those who had been earlier in the camp. Doubtless they had used their time with Watonka to well scout the camp. With them were certain of their high warriors.
'That is the leader of the Kurii,' I said. 'It's name, in Gorean, is Sardak. Behind it is another high Kur, one called, in Gorean, Kog.'
'Such things have names?' asked Cuwignaka.
'Yes,' I said. 'How many do you count? Be careful. It is important.'
'Seven,' said Cuwignaka.
'I, too, count seven,' I said. There had been seventeen of the small wagons, of the sort which I had conjecured contained Kurii, with the mercenary column. Given the irritability and territoriality of the Kur, it had seemed likely that there would ahve been but one Kur to a wagon. This gave me a figure of seventeen Kurii in the original death squad, including its leaders Sardak and Kog. When Grunt and I had come to the field of the masacre we had learned from Pumpkin, the Waniyanpi slave, Waniyanpi being used to clear the field, that the bodies of nine such beasts had been found. I had been unable to determine, at that time, whether or not Kog and Sardak had been among the slain. The bodies of the beasts had been dragged away, into the fields, by red savages. It seemed they did not know much what else to do with them. I had learned later from teh former Lady Mira of Venna, whom her red masters had decided to make a Waniyanpi slave, that a small group of Kurii had apparently made its way, at least largely unopposed, from the field. The savages, it seemed, were reluctant to attack them. She had specualted that there had been some seven or eight beasts in this group. I also knew of the survival of one Kur whom I had encountered personally, on the field, preventing it from attacking a party of Waniyanpi. It had had wounds, and a great deal of dried blood matted in its fur. I speculated that it might have fallen in the fighting and lost consciousness, from the loss of blood, and then, later, awakened. It seemed unlikely that it had been one of the party which had escaped, and had then been sent back, perhaps to look for food. It was probably separate from the group which had escaped. It had then withdrawn from the field. I had not pursued it. As nearly as I could determine now, it had not made contact with the others. It had, perhaps, perished on the prairie.
'One would be enough,' said Cuwignaka.
'What do you mean?' I asked. I did not think that any one Kur, singly, would be likely to look forward to meeting Zarendargar, Half-Ear, in a battle to the death.
'One would be enough to hearten the Yellow Knives,' he said, 'one would be enough to frighten and dispirit the Kaiila.'
'Of course,' I said. In my own concerns, in my own purposes in the Barrens, to locate and warn Zarendargar of his danger. I had given too little thought to the obvious rold of the fierce Kurii in the military politics of the vast grasslands east of the Thentis mountains. Cuwignaka, as a matter of fact, did not even know of my true mission in the Barrens. He thought me one who merely dealt in trading, much like Grunt.
'The Kaiila are broken,' said Cuwignaka, bitterly.
'Many must ahve escaped,' I said.
'They are disunited and scattered,' said Cuwignaka. 'The meat for the winter is lost.'
'Doubtless some will survive,' I said.
'Perhaps like Dust Legs,' said Cuwignaka, 'traders, diplomats, interpeters, serving the needs of others, not as Ubars of the plains, as masters of the grasslands in their own right.'
I felt ashamed. How stupid I had been. How absorbed we can be sometimes in our own concerns, and sometimes, then, so little alert to the affairs of others. I was concerned with the life of a friend. Cuwignaka was concerened with the survival of a people.
'Perhaps the Kaiila will rise again,' I said.
'No,' said Cuwignaka. 'nothing, now, can save them.'
'You do not know that,' I said.
'What can save them?' asked Cuwignaka.
'Nothing, perhaps,' I said. 'I do not know.'
Cuwignaka looked down from the small rise, onto the broad, firelit spaces of the revels and feasts.
'There are the victors,' he said.
The area, a large one, was crowded. There was a grat circle, in which dignitaries had their places, and may smaller circles. In the center of each there was a fire. In the center of the great circle the huge fire blazed from a kindline of broken lodge poles. Slave girls, stark naked, kneeling and sweating, tended hundreds of cooking pots. Other slave girls, similarly stark naked, hurried about, serving the men, bringing them food and water, and, when desired, themsleves. The ankles of the cooks wore six-inch tethers, keeping them close to their pots. The ankles of the serving slaves wore longer tethers, permitting them to walk with ease, but not to run. When one of the soldiers or Yellow Knives wished one of these girls he simply unfastned the tether from one of her ankles and, whine finished, put it again in place. Sometimes the girls were pulled into the shadows, and sometimes not. I saw two soldiers fighting over one. The collars of most of these girls had been cut from their throats, for they had been Kaiila collars. Most of the girls, on their left breast, fixed there in black paint, wore a mark. It identified them, making it clear to whom they belonged.
'Yes,' I said.
We saw a Kur leap up and seize a slave girl. He lifted her well above his head, by an arm and thigh. She was screaming, her body helpless, bent in a lovely bow. The Kur then lowered her and put his grat jaws half about her waist. Her eyes were wild. He let her feel the print of his fangs. Then he flung her from him, into the dirt. He then bounded up and down, turning, in a small circle. The girl, terrified, crawled away. The Kur, its lips drawn back from its white fangs, returned to its place.
'It is Kur humor,' I said.
'You are sure they are just like us?' asked Cuwignaka.
'There are some differences,' I admitted.
'There are lance dancers,' said Cuwignaka.
'I see them,' I said.
From between lodges here was emerging a long line, of perhpas forty to fifty men, bearing lances. The line,
