The malebond’s rights in this matter were never challenged. The rights held true even when—as was the custom among the Kiktu and most of the tribes of the plains—visiting mothers exchanged a sexual partner with each other for a night. The choice of the partner to be sent into the mantle of the visiting mother was entirely the prerogative of the mothers’ respective husband-clusters. From what Guo had heard (in whispers among infanta), it was a common punishment which males of a bond visited on those of its members who had fallen afoul of the bond’s good will—to be dispatched into the mantle of an especially disliked visiting mother; there to labor through the night to satisfy an old, nasty, demanding mother.
Woddulakotat’s strange name was normal for a eumale. The oddly truncated ending of the name signified his lack of sexual organs, his incompletion. (Normally, all Kiktu names—almost all words in their language, in fact—ended in vowels.) The length of the name, on the other hand, signified that the being’s soul made up for his lack in other ways. The utter misery of a eumale’s life, which was the norm in most gukuy societies, was not allowed among the Kiktu. True, the life of a eumale was sharply circumscribed by social custom—even more sharply than those of truemales. But within those limits, eumales were accorded a place of dignity and respect. More often than not, they assumed a position of leadership within the malebonds, along with the alpha husband.
Other peoples, Guo was dimly aware, derided the Kiktu for their coddling of eumales. The Kiktu ignored the derision, since it was (very) rarely expressed aloud; and because they considered the habits of other peoples little better than savagery.
Guo’s thoughts began to turn again to the question of Kopporu’s conduct, but she pushed it aside. She was much too tired to deal with that now. From what little she could see of the Mother-of-Pearl through the canopy of cycad branches, it was almost nightfall. Soon, she was certain, the leaders would order a rest for the night. On the morrow, when her brain was clear, she would ponder the problem of Kopporu. For now—she had new realities to deal with.
“You were very good in the battle,” she said suddenly. The brown in the mantles of her two consorts faded slightly. “I didn’t realize males could pipe so well.”
The truemale—Yurra—whistled derisively. Delicate yellow traceries formed on Woddulakotat’s mantle.
“They can’t,” announced the eumale. “The silly old farts wouldn’t know what to do with their pipes if their lives depended on it.”
Sudden brown flooded his little mantle.
“Which it did,” he said sadly. “I shouldn’t make fun of them. At the end, all the maleclusters took positions to defend their mates, pipes in arms. Not that it would do any good, of course, even if they knew how to use them. But not a one failed in his duty.”
“We practiced,” added Yurra. “For many, many eightdays. It was Abka’s idea. He said that if we became accurate enough, and all fired at once at the same target, that we could make up for our weak siphons.”
“He was right,” said Guo firmly. “I think you kept me from being blinded.”
“You fought without a shield, with two maces,” said Woddulakotat admiringly. “You were truly awesome.” Yurra hooted vigorous agreement.
For a moment, the gigantic mother and her two consorts-to-be gazed at each other. Then, simultaneously, tinges of green began to flicker in their mantles.
Perhaps it will not be so bad, after all, being a mother.
The thought was still too new and unsettling. For the males as well, it seemed, judging from the speed with which those first, tentative flickers of green disappeared.
“If you intend to continue fighting in this crazy manner,” said Yurra suddenly, “we should give some thought to making a kind of shield for your cowl. So that we can concentrate on piping, instead of dodging darts.”
Guo was relieved, herself, at the change of subject.
“Good idea. I’ll talk to my flankers about it.”
The three of them began discussing the design and construction of the shield. Anchoring it, of course, was no problem—the thick, hard tissue of Guo’s cowl made a perfect location for attaching a shield. The problem was in the design. More like a visor than a shield, it would have to be—so that the males atop her cowl, while protected, would still have gaps through which to pipe.
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