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gasping to relative stillness. He was a young man, thickly muscular.
 You! he shouted at Perkar.  Cattle-Man. We will fight.
Perkar avoided the man s eyes: meeting them squarely was considered an affront
by the Mang. Instead he gazed up at the sky, as if wondering where the clouds
were.  I have no wish to fight you, man, he replied.
 We are here on the invitation of Brother Horse, Ngangata added.  We are not
here to fight.
 I am not speaking to you, Brush-Man, the warrior said.  And I do not care
whose protection you are under.
 It s true, Perkar heard someone say.  They were hunting with us in the high
country. A few others echoed the sentiment.
 Hunting in the high country. Is that where he got my cousin, there? He
jabbed his thick fingers toward
Sharp Tiger, and Perkar realized that if things could get worse, they had.
They were
Mang
. Of course
they would recognize the horse and wonder where its rider was.
Perkar was spared having to answer when a second man rode up beside the first.
He was quite young, and his eyes were a peculiar color for a Mang almost
green.  Be still, Chuuzek. Brother Horse told us of these two.
 Someone get Brother Horse, someone else called from the side.  Bring him
here quickly! Perkar did not turn to see who it was, but thought he
recognized Huu leg, with whom he had hunted and shared beer.
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 As I said, Perkar repeated,  I have no desire to fight.
The man who had been called Chuuzek glared at him. The crowd seemed split on
the matter of their fighting; Perkar could hear many urging Chuuzek on, but
others were as loudly proclaiming that such a breach of hospitality could not
be tolerated.  What is your quarrel with me?
 You are the pale man and the Brush-Man. You began this war, Chuuzek
proclaimed loudly, matter-of-
factly.
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THE BLACKGOD
Perkar could only stare, openmouthed. It was Ngangata who answered the charge.
 Who told you this?
 The gaan. The prophet
.
And at that, there was silence for a moment, before Brother Horse s voice rose
up.
 Well, my nephews are back! he said dryly, not loudly at all. But in the
quiet after Chuuzek s assertion he was more than audible.
 A Mang s nephews are
Mang
, Chuuzek spat.
 Well, so they are, Brother Horse agreed.  And so they are in this camp, at
this moment. The old man pushed through the crowd, two younger clansmen
trailing closely. He glared up at Chuuzek. 
Mang
know how to behave properly in a relative s camp.
 Yes, the green-eyed boy assented.  Yes, they do.
Chuuzek, whose face had been set in a fierce scowl, suddenly grinned broadly.
He turned to Brother
Horse.  You misunderstand, Shutsebe. This is the time of the Ben cheen, of
feasting and games. I was only asking your nephew if he wanted to go at the
bech ünesh.
 He does not
, Brother Horse snapped.
Perkar pursed his lips, trying desperately to place the word. He had heard it
before, and it meant something like  flat & No. It meant  they slap. It was a
game, and a rough one.
Chuuzek shrugged off Brother Horse s pronouncement.
 He can tell me himself, Chuuzek said,  if he is too small and soft for a
Mang pastime.
 Well, Perkar said softly,  I have no wish to fight you. But if it is only a
game you wish to play& 
Brother Horse was frowning and shaking his head no
, and the lift in Ngangata s brow also told him that he was agreeing to a bad
thing. But if he did not do something
, he would not know peace long enough even to get
Hezhi. And if he did, there was nothing to stop a party of these men from
following him from the village and attacking him in the open desert, away from
Brother Horse and his hospitality. No, it was time for him to do something.
And Chuuzek was looking at him expectantly.
He had five hundred leagues of Mang territory to ride through to reach his
home. Best get this over with
 or at least begin it now.
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THE BLACKGOD
 Of course. I accept your invitation, he said, and the crowd burst into a
hoarse cheer. Chuuzek bared his teeth in satisfaction.
 Fine, Brother Horse said.  But let my nephew get a bite to eat, something to
drink. There is plenty enough time for Slapping today.
 No, Perkar said.  No, I feel well enough to play now. As he said this, he
stared fully into Chuuzek s eyes and saw the malicious light there.
Brother Horse sighed.  Perkar has no paddle. I will loan him mine. He turned
and strode off.
For an instant, no one spoke, but then the crowd surged around them, and it
almost seemed as if they lifted up Perkar and his mount and carried them to
the track around the camp. Still shouting, they parted about the hoof-beaten
path and lined the sides of it. Perkar wasn t certain, but many of them seemed
to be taking bets.
Presently Brother Horse returned, bearing a wooden paddle as long as a man s
arm and a hand s breadth wide. It looked to be hardwood wrapped with leather
over some sort of padding. Brother Horse handed it up to him, and he took the
felt-wrapped grip. It weighed almost as much as a sword.
Chuuzek was nowhere in sight.
 What do I do? Perkar asked.
Brother Horse shook his head.  Tell me what you want buried with you. Chuuzek
is going to kill you.
Perkar smiled and nodded.  Yes, yes. What do I ?
do
The old man pointed around the track.  He s around on the other side of the
village. In a moment, someone will blow a horn. You ride toward each other.
You hit each other with the paddles.
 How is the winner known?
Brother Horse spit.  Oh, you ll know, he said.  You just keep going until
someone can t or won t. My advice to you is to fall off right away. Very
dishonorable, but then again, it will give Chuuzek only one chance to break
your neck.
 Can I parry his paddle?
 You can do whatever you want. It won t matter.
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THE BLACKGOD
 You ve never seen me fight.
Brother Horse laid a hand on his leg and looked up frankly.  You bear a
godsword; I know that. No doubt with it in your hands you are a great warrior.
But today you are just a man on a horse with a wooden paddle, facing a Mang
who was in the saddle nine months before he was born.
 Oh.
 Yes. Normally, people are careful enough when they play this game. Accidents
happen, though, and if it looks like an accident, people won t call it murder.
With you, it won t even have to look good.
Perkar nodded grimly.  Well, he muttered.  Let s go, then.
Brother Horse nodded.  When someone blows a horn, ride that way. He pointed
north.
Perkar tightened his grip on the paddle, swung it experimentally a few times.
And someone blew a horn, two sharp notes. The crowd cheered raggedly, and
Perkar dug his heels into
T esh. His mount leapt forward almost without that, as if it knew the
significance of the horn. Perkar flexed his hand on the grip, then tightened.
 You can still help me, Harka? he snarled into the wind.
 Some. Not much. Draw me and I can help you much more.
Perkar gritted his teeth but did not answer. T esh had fallen into a fluid
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gallop, what Ngangata called an
 archer s gait. Where was Chuuzek? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]