Blood Brothers of Gor

Chapter 17 AN ASSESSMENT OF THE INFORMATION OF OIPUTAKE

"Canka!" I cried. "Where is Canka!"

The young warrior was not in his lodge. Near it, sitting cross-legged, a robe well over his head, half concealing his face, rocking back and forth, was a figure.

"Akihoka," I cried, "where is Canka."

"He has gone hunting," said Akihoka.

"When will he be back?" I asked.

"He should not come back," moaned Akihoka. He rocked back and forth. "He is my friend," he moaned. "He was my friend."

"I do not understand," I said. "What has happened?"

"You are the second to seek him today," said Akihoka, bent over, muchly hidden in the robe.

"I do not understand," I said. "I have information. I must see him. It may mean nothing. It may mean much!"

"Sleen Soldiers came for him," moaned Akihoka, rocking in misery.

"That is preposterous," I said.

"They have the arrow which was shot at Mahpiyasapa," said Akihoka, rocking back and forth. "It is the arrow of Canka. Too, Hci saw Canka fleeing from the place."

"Canka would not shoot at Mahpiyasapa," I said. "Mahpiyasapa is his chief."

"It is said that he feared Mahpiyasapa would take the red-haired woman away from him."

"Mahpiyasapa would not do that against his will," I said, "and Canka knows that."

"Hci said that he would last night," said Akihoka.

"Hci," I said, "spoke in anger."

"Hci saw him fleeing from the place," said Akihoka, griefstricken.

"I thought you said Canka had gone hunting," I said.

"It is said he shot Mahpiyasapa, and then went hunting," said Akihoka.

"That is absurd," I said. "No one shoots an arrow at his chief, and then just rides off hunting."

"The arrow s the arrow of Canka," said Akihoka, almost chanting in grief. "Hci saw him running from the place."

"Who else saw him?" I asked.

"No one," said Akihoka.

"Does this seem likely to you," I asked, angrily, "in a crowded camp?"

"it was the arrow of Canka," said Akihoka. "They have the arrow. It is the arrow of Canka. Hci saw him running from the place."

"Hci is a liar," I said.

"No," said Akihoka.

"Why not?" I asked.

"He was sworn by his shield," said Akihoka.

"Clearly it must have been Hci himself who fired the arrow," I said.

"Mahpiyasapa is the father of Hci," said Akihoka. "Hci would not try to kill him."

"I do not think he would try to kill him either," I said. "I think it was Hci's intention merely to make it seem that an attempt had been made on his life."

"Hci would not do that," said Akihoka.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Hci is Kaiila," said Akihoka. "Shame, shame," he moaned rocking in the robe. "It is a shame for Canka. It is shame for the All Comrades. I have sorrow for Canka. He was my friend. He was my friend."

"Hci," I said, firmly, "did not see Canka running from the place," I recalled that Canka had, on the first morning of the great hunt, inquired of Cuwignaka the location of one of his arrows. As long ago, then, as that time, it seemed to me that Hci had been fomenting his plan. In the openness of the living of the red savages, where things are not hidden and locked up, and where theft is not expected, and is generally regarded as almost unthinkable, it would not be a difficult matter, provided one was a bit careful, to take an arrow.

"Hci swears it," said Akihoka.

"Hci swears falsely," I said.

"Hci swears by his shield," said Akihoka.

"Then Hci swears falsely by his shield," I said.

Akihoka stopped rocking. He pulled the robe down from his head, about his shoulders. "You are white," he said. "You are only a slave. You know nothing of these things."

"In your heart you know as well as I," I said, 'that Canka would not try to kill Mahpiyasapa. I am sure even Mahpiyasapa, in his heart, knows that, too."

"But Hci has sworn by his shild," he said.

"He has sworn falsely," I said.

"How can that be?" asked Akioka, puzzled.

"It as to do, doubtless, with the vanity of Hci, and his hatred for Canka," I said.

Akihoka looked down at the dirt. It was not easy for him, a Kaiila warrior, to comprehend that such a thing, even though it seemed so plausible, might have taken place. It was as though his trust in deep things had been shaken.

"but they love you bear Canka," I said, "ride after him. Go out to meet him. Find him. Tell him what has ocurred. I assure you he knows nothing of it. This was don now indeed, I do not doubt, because he had left the camp."

Akihoka looked up at me.

"Find him before the Sleen Soldiers do," I said. "It might mean his life. Tell him what has occurred. Then he must decide what to do."

"He will come back," said Akihoka.

"Then tell him come back knowing what has occurred," I said. "Go after him."

"I know where he will be hunting," said Akihoka.

"Hurry," I said.

Akihoka threw off the robe. "I will go," he said.

"Where is Winyela?" I asked.

"I do not know," he said.

"Did Sleen Soliers come for her," I asked, "to take her to the lodge of Mahpiyasapa?"

"No," said Akihoka.

"You see?" I said. "Mahpiyasapa, even under these conditions, does not have her brought to him. Even under these conditions he still regards her as Canka's woman. He must know that Hci is lying."

Akihoka turned about and raced away, between the lodges.

He would jerk loose the picket rope of his kaiila and mount it in a bound. In moments he would be outside the camp.

I looked after Akihoka. Already he had vanished from sight.

I felt a cool breeze. I felt sorrow for Mahpiyasapa. It must be a terrible thing for a father to realize that his beloved son has betrayed his codes.

Then I recalled the information I had received but moments before from the lovely blond slave, Oiputake. I was in a quandary. I had hoped, of course, to convey this information to Canka. This seemed appropriate not only because he was, stricly, my master, but also because he was highly placed in the All Comrades. He might then have made a judgement on it, assessing its significance, if any. I would have gone first to Cuwignaka, as I knew him best and had the highest regard for his preceptiveness and common sense, but that action I had rejected, of course, because at this time he would be, with other young men, dancing in the great lodge. I did not know what to do. I could, of course, kneel to random individuals, met here and there, and tell them what I had learned, but I feared I might be dismissed as a raving slave. Who would believe the words of a slave, and I had this cognizance, too, only from another slave. What, too, if she were mistaken?

Grunt, I thought, Grunt! He will know what to do! Too, he is a close friend of Mahpiyasapa. Mahpiyasapa will listen to him. I must seek out Grunt!