Read Players of Gor Online

Authors: John Norman

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Historical, #Thrillers

Players of Gor (19 page)

BOOK: Players of Gor
12.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

page 114

me wait longer! Hurry to me, Bosk of Port Kar, my lover, my master!"

"Good," I said.

"Enter my alcove!" she cried. "I am yours!"

I entered the alcove. I did not have a great deal of time.

"Brinlar," she cried, drawing her legs under her, "what are you doing!"

"What do you mean, 'what am I doing!?" I asked.

"Where is Bosk of Port Kar?" she asked.

"He is here," I said.

"Where?" she asked.

"Here," I said, jerking my thumb toward my chest. "I am he."

"Do not be absurd!" she said.

"Kneel," I said.

"Is this some form of mad joke, Brinlar?" she asked. "Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"I believe you received a command," I said.

"Men!" she cried, leaping to her feet. "Men! Men!"

I let her run to the threshold of the alcove, where the shackle on her left ankle held her up short. She looked wildly out into the main hall. From where she stood, at the curtains, in the light, and shadows, of the small lamp on the table, she could see the slumped, fallen, senseless figures of her guards.

"Tassa powder," I explained. "It was your own. I believe you are familiar with its effects."

I then took her by the upper arms and hurled her back into the alcove, with a rattle of chain, onto the furs.

She scrambled about, and looked at me, wildly. "You are not Bosk of Port Kar!" she cried. "You cannot be Bosk of Port Kar!"

"I am Bosk of Port Kar," I assured her.

"You have gone mad, Brinlar!" she cried. "This is an outrage! Release me!"

I smiled.

"Sleen! Sleen!" she wept.

"You are a female," I said, "and you are in slave silk, and chained. I suggest you keep a respectful tongue in your head, unless you wish to have it removed."

She looked at me, frightened.

"Do you recall having received a command earlier?" I asked.

She knelt.

"How does it feel to be kneeling before a man?" I asked.

She clenched her fists.

page 115

"You are wearing slave silk," I said.

"Yes," she said.

"Remove it," I said.

"No," she said.

I reached to the wall and took a slave whip from its hook. Such things are common in the alcoves of inns and taverns on Gor. They help a girl be mindful of her duties.

"Now," I said.

` She jerked the silk angrily from her body.

"You are quite beautiful," I said, "for a free woman."

She tossed her head, angrily. "Thank you," she said.

"Kiss the whip," I said.

"Never!" she said.

"You will kiss it now, or after you have felt it," I said. "It does not matter to me."

"I will kiss it," she said angrily.

"More lingeringly," I said, "and lick it, as well."

She complied.

"Now, kiss it again," I said.

She complied.

"Now say, 'I have licked and kissed the whip of a man,'" I said.

"I have licked and kiss the whip of a man!" she said. "Now what are you going to do with me?"

I do not have much time," I said.

"I do not understand," she said.

"Turn about," I said, "and lean forward, resting on the sides of your forearms."

"No!" she cried.

"Assume the position, as instructed," I said.

"No!" she protested.

I lifted the whip.

She complied.

A few moments later, having freed her ankle from the shackle, I dragged her by her right arm out of the alcove, to the side of the table about which her men lay sprawled. Her lovely dark hair was down about her face. I forced her down on her knees, under the table. I put her over the ring, in the midst of the chains.
 
I clasped the ankle rings about her ankles, locking them. I thrust the short, attached chain, attached to the ankle-ring chain at one end, and the wrist-ring chain at the other, and the wrist rings, on their short chain, between her legs and through the sturdy floor ring. I then, close to the floor, locked her wrists snugly into the wrist rings. She was now held helplessly in place beneath the

page 116

table. "In such a fashion," I told her, "the men of Torvaldsland sometimes secure their bond-maids. Thus they have them at hand and may use them, to some extent, to please them under the table. In this fashion, similarly, it is easy to feed them by hand and throw them scraps of meat. It is a useful arrangement in their training and, too, even a skilled, experienced girl, even one who is highly esteemed, is sometimes confined so, when it pleases the master to do so."

Her eyes were glazed. Her hair was down before her face. She pulled at the chains, weakly.

"But perhaps you are not interested in the lore of Torvaldsland," I said.

"What you did to me," she said.

"Perhaps you are hungry," I said.

She looked at me, angrily. She moved her head to the side, trying to free her face of hair. I took her hair and, arranging it, put it back over her shoulders. "You are quite beautiful in chins," I said. Perhaps you should be a slave."

She did not respond.

"You look well chained under a table," I said.

"Thank you," she said, angrily.

I took a piece of meat from the table, one of the viands I had brought from the camp, a small tidbit of roast tarsk.

I held it out to her.

"No," she said.

"Eat," I said.

Her wrists pulled upward, against the wrist rings, but her hands, chained as they were, could lift but a few inches from the floor. "I cannot reach it," she said.

"I am not a patient man," I said.

"I am a free woman!" she said.

"I am well aware of that," I said. "If you were a slave, you would probably have received at least two beatings by now."

She extended her head.

"Excellent, Lady Yanina," I said. "You take food well on your knees, from a man's hand."

Then next few pieces of meat I scattered on the tiles. She must take them without touching them with her hands. While she was doing this I disarmed the guards, slinging their weapons about my shoulder.

I then came back to regard the Lady Yanina.

"Have you finished the meat, Lady Yanina?" I inquired.

"Yes!" she said.

I picked up the things, lying to one side, which I had taken

page 117

from the farther alcove. Her eyes suddenly widened, and she regarded me with terror.

"This key," I said, "I found concealed in your robes. It is, I assume, the key to one of the chests, which contains, doubtless, the keys to certain other chests, and perhaps other keys, as well, such as those pertinent to the shackles of your work chain. If it does not, of course, I may have to make use of certain tools in your camp."

She began to tremble in the chains.

"Among your belongings," I said, "there are also doubtless other things of interest, such as rings, and moneys, and such, pilfered from your captives. I alone am missing a considerable wallet. Too, I think I may count on your having independent stores of coins and notes, and, given your apparent wealth and elegance, a suitable measure of costly cloths, gems and jewelries. These materials I shall distribute among the members of the work chain, to compensate them somewhat for their inconvenience and loss of time. These weapons I carry, too, save for those I reserve for my own use, I shall give to skillful, worthy fellows. We shall then, still free men, make our way to the fair. At the fair, as you know, fighting, enslavement, foul play, and such, are not permitted. After some days of sport and recreation at the fair, we may then, if we wish, from the fairgrounds themselves, take tarns to Port Kar, an expensive proposition to be sure, but one which your resources will doubtless prove sufficient to fund. If you see a light in the sky later, it may be your camp burning."

"Do what you wish," she pleaded, in her chains. "Free the men, take the gold, burn the camp, but do not touch that packet!"

"Oh, yes, this," I said, lifting the leather packet which I had taken from the farther alcove. "This contains the materials, doubtless, which you were to deliver to your dear friend, Flaminius."

"Leave it!" she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"I am a courier," she said. "I must deliver that to Flaminius!"

"I gather that that will be difficult for you to do," I said, "chained as you are."

"Please," she said. "Do not even think of taking that! Leave it! I beg you!"

"It must be very important," I said.

"No," she said, quickly, moving in the chains, drawing back, "No. No."

page 118

"Then its loss will be negligible," I said.

"The materials will be meaningless to you!" she cried. "They will mean nothing to you!"

"Where are they from?" I asked.

"From Brundisium," she said.

"Who are they from?" I asked.

"From Belnar, my Ubar," she said. I assumed that was a lie. Presumably there was no Belnar who was a Ubar in Brundisium. Still, I did recall that she had referred to a "Belnar" at yesterdays rendezvous with Flaminius.

"And you were to deliver them to Flaminius?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "Yes!"

"And what is he supposed to do with them?" I asked.

"He is to deliver them to the appropriate parties in Ar," she said.

"In Ar?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

That surprised me. I wondered if she knew the true destination of the materials. I assumed they must actually be transmissions to the Sardar. Presumably it was merely her intention to mislead me.

"they are state papers," she said. "They must now fall into the wrong hands!" I assumed they were not state papers, of course. On the other hand, I was prepared to believe that they had their origin in Brundisium, and that there was some fellow named Belnar associated with them. He would be, I supposed, an agent of Priest-Kings. I was curious. I considered waiting for Flaminius and his men. Yet I had no special wish to kill them and particularly if they were agents of Priest-Kings. I had already killed one fellow who, I took it, was an agent of Priest-Kings, the fellow, Babinius, in Port Kar. I had once served Priest-Kings. I did not wish now, whatever might be their current attitudes toward me, to make a practice of dropping their agents. To be sure, I did not know for certain that this Belnar, and Flaminius, the Lady Yanina, and those associated with them were agents of Kurii.

"Do you serve Priest-Kings?" I asked the Lady Yanina.

"I do not understand," she said.

"Do you serve Beasts?" I asked.

"I do not understand," she said.

"Whom do you serve?" I asked.

"Belnar," she said, "my ubar, Ubar of Brundisium."

"Why should this Belnar, whom I do not know, supposedly the Ubar of Brundisium, a city with which I have never had

page 119

dealings, find me of such interest? Why should he send a killer against me, or desire my apprehension?"

"I do not know," she said.

I smiled.

"I do not!" she said.

It could be, of course, that she, for all her beauty, was only a lowly counter in an intricate, complex game beyond her understanding. She might not even know, ultimately, whether she served Priest-Kings, or Kurii. That was an interesting thought.

"I am going now," I said.

"Don't go!" she cried.

"On the other hand, I recommend that you remain where you are, waiting for Flaminius."

She shook the chains, in helpless frustration.

"He will be along shortly," I assured her.

"Leave the packet!" she begged.

"Do you beg it, naked, on your knees, chained, as might a slave?" I asked.

"Yes!" she cried. "I beg it on my knees, naked, in chains, as might a slave!"

"Interesting," I said.

"Leave it," she begged.

"No," I said.

She looked a me, aghast.

"But you did beg prettily," I said, "and had the matter been otherwise, for example, had you been begging to serve my pleasure, I would truly have been tempted to give you a more favorable response."

"I am a free woman," she said. "How can you, a free man, deny me anything I want?"

"Easily," I said.

She looked at me, angrily.

"Many free women believe they can have anything they want, merely by asking for it, or demanding it," I said, "but now you see that that is not true, at least not in a world where there are true men."

She shook the chains in frustration. "You make me as helpless and dependent on you as a slave!" she cried.

BOOK: Players of Gor
12.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Their Language of Love by Bapsi Sidhwa
Witch Hunt by SM Reine
Strike Zone by Kate Angell
Recalculating by Jennifer Weiner
Realm 06 - A Touch of Love by Regina Jeffers
Beige by Cecil Castellucci
The Search for Bridey Murphy by Bernstein, Morey


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024