“Essaip.”
He almost smiled. Cute moniker for an uncute lady. “What should we do now?”
“Anything you want. You to be husband, me to be wife. If you want anything you must tell me. Is wife’s duty to wait on her husband, even on husband-to-be. That is the way of things.”
“You don’t say?” A hint of an inkling of a thought was beginning to take shape in his brain. “You mean that if I wanted you to do something for me, anything at all, you’d have to do it?”
“Except help you run away.”
Dead end. Or—maybe not. “Are all the females of your tribe required by custom to act that way?”
“Certainly. Is way of things. Is what’s right.”
He sat up and faced her. “What if I were to tell you that it’s not only wrong, it’s unnatural.”
That lengthy jaw line twisted in confusion. “I don’t understand what you say.”
“Suppose I told you—and you have to believe me, remember, because I’m your husband-to-be—that males and females are equal, and that it’s wrong for one to wait on the other all the time.”
“But that not right. Has always been this way.”
“I see. I wish I had some Kate Millet or Gloria Steinem to read to you.”
“I don’t know such names. Are they names of magical deities?”
“Some people think so.” He rose and walked over to her. It was an awesome body. Those enormous paws with their long heavy claws could tear out his throat with one swipe. The parody of a bear face was frightening. But behind those large, even attractive eyes he sensed an emptiness waiting to be filled, an eagerness to learn. Would she be receptive to new ideas, especially as propounded by an outsider?
“I think you like me, Essaip, even though we are not the same.”
“Like you much.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to live as a slave. It doesn’t mean that any female of your tribe has to live in servitude to any male. This is a fact that holds true whether one is talking about otters or ogres. Times they are a-changing, Essaip, and it’s about time you and your sisters changed with them.”
“How you mean, change?”
“Well, it’s kind of like this. …”
Mudge was trying to see into the depths of the wedding cave. “I don’t ’ear no suar music but I can see ’is mouth movin’. ’E’s talkin’ up a storm, old Jon-Tom is. I know ’im. ’E can work a different kind o’ magic just with words. ’E’s sharp enough to confuse a magistrate. You’ll see, luv. In a few ’ours ’e’ll ’ave ’er spoutin’ sweat reasonableness.”
Before long Essaip emerged from the cave spouting, all right, but she didn’t sound very reasonable. She sounded steamed. When the two guards refused to let Jon-Tom exit behind her she knocked both of them into the bushes.
Another warrior, a large jaguar ogre, stepped in her path and tried to halt her.
“Is not good for bride to leave wedding cave before feast.”
“Ahhhh, shaddup you, you—male!” The jaguar’s jaw connected with a paw only slightly smaller than a 725-15 radial ply tire.
Other warriors came running to try and quiet the chief’s daughter, who had apparently gone berserk. No one bothered to stop Jon-Tom. He strolled past the battle royal toward the staring otters, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
Mudge turned to his lady. “Get ready to leave.”
“What? But just because she’s fighting with the guards doesn’t mean they’re going to let us walk out of camp.”
“Just be ready. ’Tis like I told you: Jon-Tom don’t always need to sing to work magic.”
Behind them the rest of the tribe’s females had put aside domestic tasks and emerged from their caves. They listened intently as Essaip recited the feminist litany Jon-Tom had relayed to her while she simultaneously fought off half a dozen hunters. Most of the male ogres were off preparing the wedding ground for the nighttime ceremony. They would have found Essaip’s speech most interesting. Growls and grunts began to issue from the tightly packed cluster of females.
Weegee picked up a few sentences. “This is very interesting.”
Mudge tugged on her arm.
“Come on, luv, we’ve got to be ready to leave when Jon-Tom reaches us.”
She held back. “Extremely interesting. I’ve never heard the like before.” Mudge overheard, too. His tugs began to take on an aura of desperation.
Abruptly the fighting ceased. The chief and the rest of the warriors had returned. “Not nice to begin festivities without us,” he said disapprovingly. “Plenty of time to play after wedding ceremony complete.”
“No wedding ceremony.”
The chief gaped at his daughter. “SAY WHAT?”
“No wedding ceremony.” Breathing hard, her fur mussed, Essaip was clearly in no mood to back down. “Who you think you are to give order like that?”
“Who I think I—I am your father! I am chief of this tribe!” The giant’s face was flushed, a remarkable sight.
“By what right you make such a demand?”
Speechless, the chief waded through his warriors, scattering them left and right, and tried to cuff her across the muzzle. She blocked the blow and caught him with a return right to the chops. Several warriors stepped up to grab her. As they did so they were set upon by the tribe’s females. Shouts and snarls filled the hitherto peaceful evening air, along with bits of fur and flesh.
