Shame of Man by Piers Anthony
Actually she was doing him a favor, unknowingly, because he was able to get to know the mare in her different paces, and to have the mare get to know him. He did this by murmuring to her in a voice too low for Sis to hear, and by applying pressure with his knees, guiding her where he wished. She was responsive, and became more so as she developed confidence in his competence. Rapport with a horse was one of the most important aspects of training. But to Sis it looked as if he were barely surviving. After a time she slowed the pace, perhaps concerned that he would fall off, and she would get the blame.
They came in due course to the shore of the great lake. “Itti's family lives on an island,” Sis explained. “We will leave the horses here with hay.” There was a crude enclosure with hay piled within it, so it was clear that the horses would be all right.
Hugh dismounted clumsily, but patted the mare on the side away from Sis. “We shall be together again soon,” he murmured, and the mare rotated her near ear in acknowledgment.
Sis led the way to a small stone wharf where a wooden boat was docked. “Do you know about boats?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said, looking doubtful. He had not had the experience with boats that he had with horses, but he had used them on occasion. It was part of the business of traveling.
“Then take a paddle.” She lifted a long wooden paddle from the boat and gave it to him.
He caught it on the paddle end and continued to look doubtful. Again he noted her half-masked expression of contempt. Yet there seemed to be interest, too, in the way she covertly assessed him. Yesterday she had tried to get rid of him, because he was left-handed; today she had some other notion. He didn't trust it. That was why he was playing stupid; he did not want her to know his abilities.
“Like this,” she said. She took the other paddle and held it so that the flattened end pointed down. “Now get in the boat.”
He climbed in and sat at the end that floated in the water, facing back. She gave the boat a shove so that it slid the rest of the way into the lake, then stepped in herself. She had to lift one leg high and then the other, showing her firm thighs under the hide skirt. He appreciated again that whatever this woman was or was not, she had a good body.
She settled herself, then stared at him. “Face the other way,” she said shortly.
“Oh.” He had wondered how long it would take her to appreciate this particular evidence of ignorance. He turned himself around clumsily, in the process losing the paddle overboard. Then he almost overturned the boat while reaching for the floating paddle. What a duffer he seemed to be!
They finally got moving, and his paddling improved somewhat under her tutelage. She had taken the rear seat on the assumption that he would not be able to guide the craft, and he had pretty well confirmed that assumption. It was a kind of game that he hoped she did not know was being played. He still didn't know what her own game was.
The island was a distance east as well as offshore. But it was easy paddling, once Sis's sharp corrections enabled him to get the hang of it. He noted that she didn't tell him how to scull, to guide the boat straight forward despite paddling on a single side. So she thought that he would be unable to move the craft efficiently if he found himself alone.
They came to another stone wharf, docked, and climbed out. In the process he was treated to another glimpse of her handsome thighs, but he couldn't tell whether it was deliberate on her part. She might simply hold him in such contempt that she didn't care what he looked at.
There was a path up to the house, and there was indeed a lame child there. Hugh did what he did best, and not only charmed the child and his family with flute music; he brought out one of the simpler wooden flutes he had crafted and gave it to the boy, teaching him how to blow notes on it. A lame boy should have a lot of time to practice, and the lad did seem to catch on readily. The family was most appreciative. The man, Itti, was of the warrior class, garbed in red, and surely prominent. He gave Hugh two sheep's knucklebones that would be excellent for gambling, and had fair value in their own right. It seemed likely that there would be no objections, the next time Hugh's tour brought them to this region.
Then it was time to return to the village. Hugh followed Sis back down to the boat, noting the way her hips swayed as she walked. Now he had little remaining doubt: she was doing it deliberately. He knew because Anne was expert in the art of becoming sexually appealing, whether in a dance or otherwise. So, it seemed, was this woman. But what was her interest in him?
They got in the boat and paddled back toward the mainland wharf. But when they were farthest from either the island or the mainland shores, Sis paused in her paddling. “Turn around,” she said.
Whatever she was up to, now it was about to clarify. The mission to play for the crippled child had been legitimate, but Sis must have volunteered to do it, so that she could achieve her own purpose. He now suspected what that purpose was, but remained mystified by its rationale. He laid his paddle down and turned around on the seat.
She was in the process of stripping away her clothing. He watched as the top and bottom came off, leaving her naked body glistening in the light of the declining sun. She was splendid in all her physical parts. It was the mental part that kept him wary.
He eyed the whole and the details. “You plan to swim?” he inquired after a moment.
She got right to the point. “I have a desire for you, wrong hand. Play your melodies on this body.”
She had called him “wrong hand.” So she had noticed. The strangest thing was that he had a feeling that he had done something like this in the past, though it was not true. There was something about her body and her manner that not only attracted him, it made him seem to remember having sex with her. That was impossible, as he had never seen her before yesterday. So from where could such a memory come? Perhaps from the similar sultry women who liked his music and who found the distinction of wrong-handedness appealing.
Meanwhile his mouth was saying the obvious. “I am married. My wife is beautiful.”
“But I can give you more. I am hot and lusty.” She inhaled, licking her lips and spreading her knees.
“I need no more than she offers.” But the woman was stirring his desire.
“Why not try me and see?” She leaned forward so that her breasts shifted form.
“My wife wouldn't like it.” Especially not with a woman like this.
“Then she need not know.” She got off the seat and approached him, squatting so as not to rock the craft. That made her even more intriguing, as perhaps she knew.
She had ready answers, having evidently rehearsed this scene. But what was her real motive? He had acted like an ignorant duffer in everything except his skill with music, a performance hardly calculated to incite a woman's admiration or romantic spirit. He suspected that she had had this in mind from the outset. It surely wasn't passing passion that motivated her, yet she seemed ready to give him what any other man—and Hugh himself—desired. Why?
He decided on a direct approach. “What is your interest in me? I know I have not come across as a masterful man.”
Her eyes narrowed as she paused in her approach. “So you were pretending. I wondered. You know the ways of deceit.”
“You have not answered my question.”
“I am jealous of your wife. I want to take you from her.” She resumed motion.
That seemed true, but only part of the truth. Sis was certainly jealous of Anne's beauty, but she should be just as jealous of Seed's beauty, and she wasn't going after Seed's husband. There had to be some other motive.
Meanwhile he had to act, lest she succeed in seducing him. It was time to turn this off. “No. I will not be with you.”
She squinted at him again, and saw his resolution. “If you seek to avoid me, I will claim that you tried to force me. You are new to this tribe, and wrong-handed; they will believe me rather than you.” Now she had reached him, and laid her hand on his arm. “You would not want that.”
&n
There was a flicker of something other than anger in her face. But she quickly masked it. “Hit me, if you wish.” She caught at him again.
Then suddenly it came clear. “Anne!” he cried. “You are decoying me away from Anne. So that she is unprotected.”
Now her teeth showed in a snarling smile. “Too late for her, I think.”
Hugh leaned forward, put his arms around her, clasped her close, lifted, and heaved. Suddenly she was out of the boat and splashing in the water. He grabbed a paddle and scrambled to the boat's rear seat, where control was better.
Sis surfaced, her hair plastered, spittingly furious. “You can't get away!” She reached for the boat.
He lifted the paddle like a club. “Touch it, and I'll bash you. Then you'll have reason to accuse me—if you don't drown.”
Her eyes met his for a moment. Then her hand withdrew. “So you are indeed a man,” she said.
“I am indeed.” He plunged the paddle into the water and drove the boat forward. He stroked again, sculling, leaving the woman behind.
After several strokes he glanced back. She was swimming for the shore. She was moving well, as he had thought she might. He had harmed no more than her dignity—and perhaps not much of that.
Then he realized that her clothing was still in the boat. Well, he would leave it at the corral.
He readily outdistanced the woman, for even a clumsy boat was better than swimming, when managed competently. He moved on to the shore, drew the boat out, and went for the horses. He considered, as he approached them; should he free the other one, and send her running away, so that Sis had no mount? No, he had a significant lead; his business would be done before she caught up.
Soon he was on his mare, guiding her without words. She responded eagerly to his competence, fairly flying across the terrain. Such rapport between man and mount was wonderful; both enjoyed it. It was sad the way other cultures did not understand such use of horses. They thought that meat was all they offered.
He reached the village quickly enough, for he had wasted no time. Seed was there, minding his children and hers. “Where is Anne?” he called.
“Bub came to guide her to you,” Seed replied. “To join you with the lame boy, as you asked. Didn't you see her on the way?”
“No.” And he knew why: Bub had no intention of bringing Anne near her husband. His design was of a quite different nature. “Which way did they go?” He suppressed the echo of Sis's words: Too late for her.
“To the north, where he had the horses.” Now Seed looked alarmed, but her voice was controlled so as not to alarm the children. “Bub has a house farther north.”
Horses. Hugh's growing tension eased a notch. “So they were riding.”
“Yes. Perhaps you can find them. The children will be safe here with me.”
“Thank you. How long ago did they leave?”
Seed made an indication of two close fingers toward the sun, showing that it had not traveled far. “Not long.” Hugh nodded, turned his mare north and put her into a trot.
Naturally Bub and Anne were not by the local corral. But Hugh could see the recent tracks of the horses going north. They were walking, because Anne would have had the sense to do what Hugh had, concealing her excellent riding ability. Bub would have told her that this was where Hugh had gone, but she would have been cautious, knowing that the man was of doubtful character. She would have taken time to get to know her horse. Then, if the trip turned out to be false, she would ride swiftly away, and Bub would not catch her.
But if the man had had the wit to get her to dismount, to separate her from the horse, and to attack her without warning . . .
Well, even then Anne was not a likely victim. Because she was a dancer. Still, Hugh fingered his dagger nervously. He did not want vengeance, he wanted his wife safe.
Then he saw dust rising to the north. A single horse was coming, galloping south, experdy guided. Soon he recognized the flowing dark hair of a woman, and soon after that he confirmed that it was Anne. They drew up together and reached out to touch hands. Then they turned their mounts south, walking.
“Sis?” she inquired.
“Naked in the lake. Bub?”
“Indisposed in a field.”
No more needed to be said; they understood each other. They returned to the village.
Later Anne gave another class in dancing. She showed a new step, difficult for many women but beautiful in execution because of the flash of flesh it showed. It was a quick step away from the partner, a spin around, and an unusually high kick forward. “Take care that you are not too close to your man,” she cautioned the women. “It could be unfortunate.”
Hugh played the music, nodding to himself. He suspected that Bub had stood too close, and been the recipient of that swift waist-high kick. Then he would have been inclined to drop to the ground for a time, suffering the pain only a man could feel. He would be unlikely to speak of the matter to others thereafter. But he would probably never again approach a dancer carelessly.
While the adults danced, the children played with their toys. Chip showed off his wagon, and pretended to hitch it to a horse, being intrigued with the foolish notion. Mina was proud of her unique design, pressed into the hardening clay by her belt cord. The other children were impressed too, by both the notion of hitching horses to wagons and of decorating pottery in such manner. But of course they were too young to appreciate why such things weren't feasible for serious use. It was a good session.
The Yamnaya tribe was one of a group of proto-Indo-European cultures that had domesticated the horse. This made them highly mobile, and they expanded over a wide area of the steppes. They also had wagons, but it seems that these were at first moved by manpower; their horses were too small to be used for such brute work. However, in time they figured out how to connect more than one horse at a time to a single wagon, and this magnified their mobility. This may be the explanation for their subsequent greater expansion, not merely across the thinly populated steppe but into the settled agricultural regions. A change in climate may have helped shift the balance of effectiveness toward the pastoral peoples, making more grazing land.
At any rate, expand they did, all across western Asia and Europe and on to India. We know this because their corded ware spread out, identifying them, and their languages displaced those of prior cultures in these regions. Today the Indo-European family of languages constitutes about half of all languages in the world, and governs most of the world's territory. Only China, southeast Asia, the south Pacific islands, northern Africa, and Asia Minor are excluded, apart from isolated spot cultures such as the Basques of Europe. Were this considered an empire, it would be the greatest ever known. We conjecture that the use of the horse, at first to ride, then to haul, and finally in battle, gave such an advantage to the Indo-Europeans that they were able not only to conquer the more settled societies, but to dominate them indefinitely, so that their languages came to prevail, just as English (one of the Indo-European languages) is spreading today. The economies of power were Indo-European, not because of any particular leader or ideology, but because they had a better way. The horse culture was here to stay.
CHAPTER 10
* * *
SKARA BRAE
A bad storm buried a village in the Orkney Islands north of Scotland about 1500 B.C. Another storm uncovered it more than three thousand years later, in A.D. 1850. Thus an untouched prehistoric community site was revealed. Its buildings survived because they were hidden—and because they were stone. Had there been enough wood there for building, we might never have learned of it, because wood disintegrates with time. Had it been exposed, the stone might have been taken for other purposes. So this was one of the accidents of preservation: a village of six to ten houses made of slate, beside the cold North Sea. Skara Brae (not “Scary Bra"). They would not have called it that, of course, but we shall consider this t
Who were these mighty ancient builders? What was the purpose in their circles of giant stones, some of which might weigh as much as sixty tons? How did these primitive people quarry, move, and erect such monsters? Gradually the wild speculations have given way to more solid conjectures. Skara Brae and the associated Stones of Stennes perhaps show the way. The time is circa 3200 B.C., near the beginning of this settlement.
ONE might have thought that things would be quiet the night before the annual Festival of Stones, in preparation for the strenuous activity to come. But there was too much excitement, especially among the children, for this year Chip and Mina were being allowed to attend. They were seven and five respectively, and had shown that they were able to walk a distance when they had to. So instead of being farmed out to their older neighbor Lil, to join Lil's grandchildren, they got to share the great adventure. They were supposed to rest, but were irrepressibly excited.
The sheep, however, were another matter. One had to be slaughtered and dressed, to be taken along; this was Hugh's contribution to the effort. The others Lil would watch, in return for the wool of one of them next season. And Hugh's eight-year-old nephew Jay would come to occupy the house, to care for the dog and see that no rats got into their supply of barley.
So all was ready. All they had to do was get a good night's rest. And that seemed to be almost impossible. The children could not relax. Anne served them a good supper of boiled limpets, because not only were the little shellfish plentiful and tasty, their knuckle-sized disk-shaped shells usually gave the children much entertainment. They would roll them at each other, and make high piles of them, and pretend they were jewelry or imitation teeth. But even this ploy was ineffective this time; Chip and Mina remained as animated as new lambs. They simply would not settle down on their cushion beds for long enough to fall asleep.