thrust-by-parry account of the tribe's beginnings.
The history of Stra!bo was its wars. Normally there was nothing Bet liked better than war stories. But some time ago. the Stra!bo and the other tribes had realized that the millennia of slaughter had to stop. Still, there remained the problem of how young warriors could be blooded, to become adult men and women. Thus the creation of the highly formalized champion-against-champion combat.
The ritual. Bet guessed, had begun about two hundred thousand years ago. And Acau/lay knew the details of each combat. It was a strange kind of a Jacob begat whomever history.
"… And then in the year of the burning grass." Acau/lay droned on. "Meinlers slew Cal/icut and there was a great feasting… In the following year. Chlintu slew the Stra!bo champion, Shhun!te, and there was a great mourning…"
Bet glanced over at Sten for possible help, then cursed to herself. He was pointedly staying out of it. drunkenly babbling to the chief.
"… And in the year of the rains, the Trader's champion…"
Bet came wide awake.
"Traders?" she asked. "What traders? And when?"
Acau/lay was delighted at her sudden display of interest. He had at one point begun to suspect his guest was bored, but on reflection dismissed the thought for the silliness it was.
"Just traders." he said. "Beings like you. It was—perhaps five hundred combats ago. Our champion defeated theirs. We exchanged many presents, and they left.
"Let me see now. I think their champion's name was—"
"Never mind that." Bet broke in. "Do the traders still come?"
"Of course," Acau/lay said with some surprise. "They come very regularly. Are we not friends? Do friends not wish to visit often and exchange gifts?"
"How often do they visit?"
"About every thirty days. In fact, they were here not long ago."
Acau/lay took a slurp from the gourd. "We thought you were their rivals."
Bet jabbed Sten.
"These… traders," Sten asked carefully. "Different, you say."
He hiccuped. "Are you sure they aren't just from another part of this world?"
"Could I, Nem!i. chief of all the Stra!bo"—he belched—
"become that confused?"
"Drinkin" this yak-pee," Bet said, "easily." Acau/lay had
already passed out beside her.
"Do herdsmen have gray rafts that float in the air instead of the water? Do herdsmen have their huts shaped like fish, that can also fly through the air?"
"Offworlders," Sten said with satisfaction.
"And will you take us to these traders'?" Bet asked. She sounded almost sober.
"For my new friends, who have been blooded by the rites of the Stra!bo…tomorrow or the next feast day I will send you, accompanied by my best warriors."
"We thank you, chief," Sten said, realizing he was starting to sound about as formally drunk as Nem!i.
"It is, I must say," the old chief wheezed, "a long and hard journey of some thirty risings and settings of the sun."
"Nem!i, what're the hazards that…"
Bet stopped. Nem!i had sagged gently against Sten and started snoring. Sten and Bet looked at each other. Bet shrugged and picked up another gourd.
"Well," Bet said, "I guess we'll be able to get off this…
charming world and not have to spend the rest of our days drinking blood and pushing calcium critters around. So shall we follow the example of the noble Nem!i'?"
"Why not," Sten said, and took the gourd. It seemed as good an idea as any other.
CHAPTER FIVE
STEN CAME AWAKE to the glare of an evil, yellow sun that was hurling spears through the cracks of the hut. He moaned gently and shut his eyes.
His head felt like a thousand—no, two thousand—ungulates had hooved through his brain, then paused to graze and defecate on his tongue.
Someone stirred next to him.
"I think I'm gonna die." he said, holding his eyes tightly shut.
"You are," Ida answered.
"Shut up. Ida. I'm not kidding."
"Neither am I. We're all gonna die."
Sten came fully awake. Sat up and stared through bloody eyes at the rest of the group already up and
The history of Stra!bo was its wars. Normally there was nothing Bet liked better than war stories. But some time ago. the Stra!bo and the other tribes had realized that the millennia of slaughter had to stop. Still, there remained the problem of how young warriors could be blooded, to become adult men and women. Thus the creation of the highly formalized champion-against-champion combat.
The ritual. Bet guessed, had begun about two hundred thousand years ago. And Acau/lay knew the details of each combat. It was a strange kind of a Jacob begat whomever history.
"… And then in the year of the burning grass." Acau/lay droned on. "Meinlers slew Cal/icut and there was a great feasting… In the following year. Chlintu slew the Stra!bo champion, Shhun!te, and there was a great mourning…"
Bet glanced over at Sten for possible help, then cursed to herself. He was pointedly staying out of it. drunkenly babbling to the chief.
"… And in the year of the rains, the Trader's champion…"
Bet came wide awake.
"Traders?" she asked. "What traders? And when?"
Acau/lay was delighted at her sudden display of interest. He had at one point begun to suspect his guest was bored, but on reflection dismissed the thought for the silliness it was.
"Just traders." he said. "Beings like you. It was—perhaps five hundred combats ago. Our champion defeated theirs. We exchanged many presents, and they left.
"Let me see now. I think their champion's name was—"
"Never mind that." Bet broke in. "Do the traders still come?"
"Of course," Acau/lay said with some surprise. "They come very regularly. Are we not friends? Do friends not wish to visit often and exchange gifts?"
"How often do they visit?"
"About every thirty days. In fact, they were here not long ago."
Acau/lay took a slurp from the gourd. "We thought you were their rivals."
Bet jabbed Sten.
"These… traders," Sten asked carefully. "Different, you say."
He hiccuped. "Are you sure they aren't just from another part of this world?"
"Could I, Nem!i. chief of all the Stra!bo"—he belched—
"become that confused?"
"Drinkin" this yak-pee," Bet said, "easily." Acau/lay had
already passed out beside her.
"Do herdsmen have gray rafts that float in the air instead of the water? Do herdsmen have their huts shaped like fish, that can also fly through the air?"
"Offworlders," Sten said with satisfaction.
"And will you take us to these traders'?" Bet asked. She sounded almost sober.
"For my new friends, who have been blooded by the rites of the Stra!bo…tomorrow or the next feast day I will send you, accompanied by my best warriors."
"We thank you, chief," Sten said, realizing he was starting to sound about as formally drunk as Nem!i.
"It is, I must say," the old chief wheezed, "a long and hard journey of some thirty risings and settings of the sun."
"Nem!i, what're the hazards that…"
Bet stopped. Nem!i had sagged gently against Sten and started snoring. Sten and Bet looked at each other. Bet shrugged and picked up another gourd.
"Well," Bet said, "I guess we'll be able to get off this…
charming world and not have to spend the rest of our days drinking blood and pushing calcium critters around. So shall we follow the example of the noble Nem!i'?"
"Why not," Sten said, and took the gourd. It seemed as good an idea as any other.
CHAPTER FIVE
STEN CAME AWAKE to the glare of an evil, yellow sun that was hurling spears through the cracks of the hut. He moaned gently and shut his eyes.
His head felt like a thousand—no, two thousand—ungulates had hooved through his brain, then paused to graze and defecate on his tongue.
Someone stirred next to him.
"I think I'm gonna die." he said, holding his eyes tightly shut.
"You are," Ida answered.
"Shut up. Ida. I'm not kidding."
"Neither am I. We're all gonna die."
Sten came fully awake. Sat up and stared through bloody eyes at the rest of the group already up and
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