Authors: John; Norman
When Paula had finished her repast, she crawled to Drusus Andronicus, and lay lovingly beside him.
He put his hand on her head.
“Master,” she breathed.
“Perhaps later, delicious, curvaceous slut,” he said.
I lay beside my master, and thought of what Drusus Andronicus had said. On Earth I would never have thought of shy, quiet, gentle, diffident, intelligent, book-reading Paula as a “slut.” Surely she projected no such image to the world. That designation would have seemed the absolute opposite of what she was, or, perhaps better, of what she seemed to be. But who knew the interior life of such a person, her dreams, her wants, her needs? Who would know that she wanted to kneel at the feet of a master, in his chains? On Gor Paula had found herself as she wanted to be, collared, and owned. I suspected that in many women there is a “slut,” or, perhaps better, and far more helpless and vulnerable, and far more desirable and exciting, a slave?
We spoke softly.
The Lady Bina, sitting on an improvised chair, formed from a box, fastidiously licked her fingers. Most Gorean free women would kneel, their knees closely together. Both Kurik, my master, and Drusus Andronicus, sat about, cross-legged, which is common with Gorean men. In taverns, and most domiciles, at least in the “high cities,” the tables are low, and men sit about them cross-legged, and free women kneel at them. Part of our circle, so to speak, the fire pit to one side, restfully crouching, as might Kurii, was Lord Grendel and, beside him, touching him, making tiny loving sounds from time to time, was Eve.
“It is now dark,” said the Lady Bina. “Surely it is about time.”
I did not understand this remark.
“Patience, dear lady,” said Lord Grendel.
The spines on the ruined parasol, once the possession of a Lady Alexina, which the Lady Bina had carried to the amusements of Decius Albus, had been carefully wiped clean of their lethal coating by Lord Grendel and the entire accessory had been discarded. This was thought judicious, given the damage to the object and the attendant risk of an inadvertent contact with the spines. One would not wish, for example, to have envenomed ost fangs lying about in one's immediate vicinity. Too, the Lady Bina refused to carry such an object, in its condition, as it would compromise her ensemble.
Suddenly I noted that Lord Grendel had flicked on his translator.
“Yes,” said Eve, her ears lifted.
At the moment this made little sense to me, as he and Eve, at least in our presence, commonly discoursed in Gorean, and, if they wished the privacy of communicating in Kur, there would be no point in activating a translator. Then an instant later the hair on the back of my neck, and on my forearms, lifted, and I was terribly alert, and not a little frightened. Paula, too, was visibly alarmed. The others seemed relatively at ease, Lord Grendel and the men rose to their feet, looking out, into the darkness beyond the slave pool.
I saw a light flash three times, perhaps fifty yards away, and then, a moment later, it flashed three times again.
Clearly, somewhere out there, there was a dark lantern, a lantern whose light can be shielded, or revealed, given the opening or closing of a plate or door on the lamp.
Lord Grendel stirred the fire, and then lifted a glowing brand, and then, three times, slowly, lifted it and lowered it.
We continued to look into the darkness.
Paula and I rose to our knees.
The men made no effort to put out the fire.
Presently we saw a large, dark, rather bent shape emerging from the darkness. Behind it, flanking it, were four or five other shapes, and perhaps more, but they remained back, avoiding the light of the fire. As the first shape approached the light of the fire, the fire was reflected from a broad metal surface, that of the large, double-edged ax it bore. This shape was attended by, heeling it, a somewhat slighter shape.
As Lord Grendel, doubtless for the benefit of the humans present, had activated his translator, we followed much of what occurred.
“Tal,” said Lord Grendel.
“Tal,” said Surtak.
He gestured, and Lyris, in her collar, lay on her belly, beside him.
“It seems,” said Surtak, “you have made your escape from Ar.”
“One might hope so,” said Lord Grendel.
“I am first amongst others,” said Surtak.
“I see it is so,” said Lord Grendel, peering out, beyond the slave pool.
This change of command had been effected at the games of Decius Albus.
“I pray you, speak of Ar,” said Lord Grendel.
“The trade advisor has recovered,” said Surtak. “He recruits men. He has designs on the throne of Ar.”
“Perhaps he has forgotten the events of the games,” said Lord Grendel.
“That is unlikely,” said Surtak.
“He wished to ally himself with Kurii,” said Lord Grendel.
“It was hoped,” said Surtak, “we might have been mutually helpful.”
“Decius Albus,” said Lord Grendel, “abetted the ambitions of Lucilius and Aelius.”
I recalled Lucilius had slain Aelius when the latter had sought the relative safety of the box of honor at the games.
“Very much so,” said Surtak.
“I trust you will not oath to him,” said Lord Grendel.
“I would have his throat,” said Surtak.
“Are you prepared to oath to Lord Arcesilaus?” asked Lord Grendel.
“No,” said Surtak. “Are you prepared to oath to Lord Agamemnon?”
“I think not,” said Lord Grendel. “I suspect you are displeased.”
“Somewhat,” said Surtak.
“I am sorry,” said Lord Grendel.
“I owe you my life, and that, too, of this worthless slave at my feet,” said Surtak, kicking the prostrate form of Lyris, who lay beside him. “Thus, we need not fight to the death.”
“I am pleased,” said Lord Grendel.
“Indeed,” said Surtak, “I respect you, even as a womb brother, despite your grotesque deformities.”
“The noble Surtak is not only generous, but kind,” said Lord Grendel. “What of Lord Agamemnon?”
“He is absent, we know not where,” said Surtak. “I suspect he is acquiring, and learning, a new body.”
“That is a fearful thing to contemplate,” said Kurik, from the side.
These remarks made little sense to me.
“Where is Lucilius?” asked Lord Grendel.
“I think,” said Surtak, “he fled to Decius Albus.”
“An anomalous alliance,” said Lord Grendel.
“But a dangerous one,” said Surtak. “Particularly for humans.”
“The Ubar?” said Lord Grendel.
“I fear so,” said Surtak.
“He denied the ring challenge,” said Lord Grendel.
“I want him in the rings,” said Surtak, “in the rings.”
“As he declined the challenge,” said Lord Grendel, “you would be denied a third ring.”
“I do not want a third ring,” said Surtak. “I want his blood.”
“Within the rings?”
“Of course.”
“Forgive me,” said Lord Grendel. “I have been inhospitable. There is still meat in the pot. May we offer you something?
Ela
, we do not have enough for your fellows.”
“No,” said Surtak, “but permit my homely, worthless slave to serve meat to you and your party.”
“Surely not to humans, and to such as Eve and I, supposed monsters,” said Lord Grendel. “Consider her former station, her antecedents.”
“She is no longer accorded harnessing,” said Surtak. “She is collared. She is now a slave, no different from other Kur females embonded on the Metal World. It will be a good lesson for her, that she serve inferiors, that she, once a superior, must now serve inferiors, and that she is now a slave, and now immeasurably inferior to inferiors.”
“Dear, noble Surtak,” said Lord Grendel, “Eve and myself, and the humans here, putting aside the slaves, do not regard ourselves as inferiors.”
“Oh?” said Surtak.
“No,” said Lord Grendel.
“But, is it not obvious?” asked Surtak.
“No,” said Lord Grendel.
“Interesting,” said Surtak.
“Not particularly,” said Lord Grendel.
“As you wish,” said Surtak. He then scowled down at Lyris. “Serve, Lyris,” he said.
“Please, no, Master,” she begged.
“Be about it,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
Lyris then, head down, took the pan of cubical chunks of meat, and held it, first, to the Lady Bina.
“Long ago,” said the Lady Bina, selecting a cube of meat from the pan, “I was a Kur pet, and groomed my master, and bit the lice from his pelt. Now I am served by a Kur, before whom, once, I would not have dared to raise my eyes.”
“I am now a slave, Mistress,” said Lyris.
“You may now serve the men,” said the Lady Bina, indicating Drusus Andronicus and Kurik, of Victoria.
“Yes, Mistress,” said Lyris.
She then brought the cubes to Drusus Andronicus and Kurik, of Victoria. Each selected a cube of meat, but paid her no further attention, as she was a slave.
How that would have hurt me, and yet I knew I deserved no better. I was a slave.
Lyris looked up, agonized, at Surtak, but Surtak gestured impatiently toward Eve and Lord Grendel.
Lyris approached Eve, and head down, held up the plate.
“You are very beautiful,” said Eve kindly, taking one of the cubes of meat.
“I am a slave, Mistress,” said Lyris, gratefully.
Did Lyris not know slaves were beautiful? Did she think there was no relationship between being beautiful and being fastened in a collar?
Lyris then approached Lord Grendel, and, offering him the meat, looked up, her eyes wide, and a soft, begging noise escaped her.
I was startled. It was not unlike a slave whimper, a plea to be found pleasing. Are masters not familiar with such sounds, from a slave at their feet?
There was a sudden, ferocious shriek from Eve and she leaped upon Lyris, seized her, the pan of meat flying away, and hurled her to the ground on her belly, pushed her head down to the dirt, and snapped at the back of her neck. In unweaponed combat amongst Kurii each goes for the other's throat or neck. It is a common martial tactic to attempt to get behind the opponent, slipping to the side, or such, for then it is difficult for the opponent to protect himself. From this position the back of the neck can be conveniently bitten through, this breaking the connection between the spinal cord and the brain. A sound of furious frustration escaped Eve as her fangs closed, scratching, about Lyris' collar. Lord Grendel had leaped up at almost the same moment that Eve had left her position, taken hold of Eve and pulled her back, and away, from the helpless, terrified Lyris. He held Eve back, off the ground, by the arms, she squirming, snapping, hissing, and snarling at the distraught, imperiled Lyris. “No,” he said, “no, sweet, gentle Eve! Desist. Do not kill her!”
I then realized that it was not only Lord Grendel who carried in his veins the dark, fiery blood of the Kur, but Eve, as well.
Never had I seen Eve so provoked, so wild, so bestial.
“Steady, steady, my sweet, my gentle, precious beloved!” said Lord Grendel, softly, soothingly.
Lyris scrambled up, and hid herself, cowering, behind Surtak.
Surtak himself leaped up and down with pleasure, and slapped his thighs, again and again, with delight. A roar of staccato noises escaped him, like an avalanche of uncontrolled sound. Lord Grendel's translator appeared to emit nothing but unintelligible static. I shuddered. I was in the presence of what I recognized, half fainting with fear, as Kur merriment. Surtak was beside himself with mirth.
“Forgive her, noble Surtak,” begged Lord Grendel. “It was but an impulse, the matter of a rash moment.”
Surtak struggled to regain his composure.
Eve, now released, had returned to her place, but she continued to regard Lyris balefully, and, from time to time, uttered what could be nothing but a menacing growl.
“I am sorry,” said Lord Grendel.
“I trust your friend did not injure her fangs,” said Surtak.
“I am sure all is well,” said Lord Grendel.
There was a bit of blood on the left side of Eve's jaw. It was clear her fangs were unharmed, as one could make out, from her occasional baring of them in the direction of Lyris. I think she had cut the side of her jaw on the collar.
“I am pleased,” said Lord Grendel to Surtak, “that you managed to keep our prearranged appointment, at the agreed-upon caravanserai, that we might be apprised as to what has ensued in Ar.”
“I owe you much,” said Surtak. “I like you. You will make a fine enemy.”
“And you, too, I fear,” said Lord Grendel.
Surtak then looked down at Lyris, at his feet. She quickly put her head down.
“And you, beautiful slave,” he said, “we will see if you like the way you are chained tonight.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“We shall now leave,” said Surtak. “We have far to go before light. It pleases me you have made good your escape. I feared it might not be so. You are now safe.”
“I wish you well,” said Lord Grendel.
“And you are so wished, as well,” said Surtak.
He then turned about, and moved away, into the darkness beyond the yard. The others, in the night, his cohorts, had apparently withdrawn farther. He, in his departure, was heeled by Lyris, his slave. We could then see them no more.
“A fine Kur,” said Kurik.
“Would he were of our faction,” said Lord Grendel.
“In one respect, he was seriously misinformed,” said Drusus Andronicus.
“Yes,” said Lord Grendel.
“May I speak?” I asked.
“Certainly,” said Lord Grendel.
“In what respect,” I asked, “was Master Surtak misinformed?”
“In that we had made good our escape, that we are safe,” said Lord Grendel.
Chapter Sixty-Five
“Master?” I asked.
“Strip,” said Kurik, “bathe, both of you.”
“We have already bathed,” I said.
I was held by the hair, and cuffed three times, once with the palm of his right hand, then with its back, and then, again, with the palm. I tasted blood at my lip.
“Forgive me, Master,” I said. I had been slow to obey.
Paula had already slipped from her tunic.
I hastily pulled off the tunic.
Kurik then stood between us, and took us by the hair. His left hand was tight in my hair and his right hand was doubtless the same in Paula's hair. I winced. Then our heads were thrust down. We were bent over, our heads at his waist. We were in leading position, one on each side of the master.
Long hair is favored in slave girls, for several reasons. Doubtless the first reason is aesthetic, as such hair is lovely in a girl. Certainly long hair tends to raise the price of a slave. Too, in the furs, much can be done with long hair to please a master, it brushing against him, and such. Too, as in leading, long hair makes it easier to control the slave. Indeed, sometimes a slave is bound with her own hair. Too, of course, a girl, if only in her vanity, wishes to retain her hair, and will do much to keep it. A shaved head not only punishes a girl but marks her out to other slaves as having been a displeasing slave. She is then likely to be the object of much derision and contempt. Lastly, it might be noted that the shorn hair of slaves, commonly marketed as the hair of free women, may be used by free women for various cosmetic purposes, such as wigs and falls. Woman's hair, too, makes the best catapult cordage, being resilient, strong, and weather-resistant. Indeed, when a city is besieged, even free women may donate their own hair for such a purpose.
We were led, half stumbling, by Kurik, my master, toward the slave pool, with Drusus Andronicus now preceding us. He undid the gate, and we were thrust through the gate, into the water, and almost before we could turn, standing in the now-cold, waist-high water, we heard the gate close and the snap of the two heavy locks that held it in place. We were again locked in the domed, cage pool. It was dark about, but we could see into the yard, illuminated by the fire pit, now containing a smaller fire, see the Lady Bina, still seated, and, closely behind her, the wagon. All this was within a few yards.
“Kajirae,” said Drusus Andronicus.
“Master,” we said, acknowledging that we were to be spoken to.
“You have been caged for your own protection,” said Drusus Andronicus. “The bars should protect you. In the heat of what may ensue, perhaps abruptly and unexpectedly, you might be injured. If I were you, I would endeavor to remain relatively unobtrusive. Do not call attention to yourselves. We will brook no interference. You should survive. You are not free. Your collars should protect you.”
“Release us, Master,” I wept, standing in the water, clutching the bars.
“They know you are of our party,” said Drusus Andronicus. “They will search for you. So, let them learn where you are. If you were loose, and fled, you would be soon apprehended, and might be hamstrung as fugitive slaves, if only by the guards of the caravanserai.”
“What is going on, Master?” begged Paula, plaintively, but Drusus Andronicus had turned away from her.
The two at the gate, Drusus Andronicus and Kurik, of Victoria, were joined by Lord Grendel.
“Might it not have been wise, dear Grendel,” said Kurik, “to have solicited the aid of Surtak, and those with him?”
“I am sure they would have looked favorably on such a request,” said Drusus Andronicus.
“No,” said Lord Grendel. “All might have died. Their participation would have been anticipated by Decius Albus and Lucilius, and the intruders will be prepared, equipped with bows and quarrels. An ax is small protection against a quarrel flighted at a pace's distance. Too, Surtak and his cohorts, despite their reservations pertaining to Decius Albus, are oathed to Lord Agamemnon. I think their participation, ill-fated as it would have been, would have compromised their oathing.”
“Then we are alone,” said Kurik.
“We have an ally,” said Lord Grendel, “the fear of those who will breach the camp.”
“Let us put our plan into effect,” said Drusus Andronicus.
“I shall prepare the wagon,” said Kurik.
“Master!” I called.
He turned back to face me.
“You fear an attack,” I said.
“Surely,” he said.
“Perhaps you are mistaken,” I said. After all, the minions of Decius Albus would not know we had left the city, or when we might have left, or what route we might choose. Too, there had been no obvious evidence of pursuit. The trip had been uneventful. And Surtak had supposed our exit from Ar had been successfully effected.
“I suspect not,” said Kurik. “Decius Albus has spies. He is well informed.”
“Still,” I protested.
“There was a wagon,” he said, “that soon followed us from Ar, a fine brown wagon, long-bedded and wide, lacquered, with two lanterns, drawn by two fine tharlarion, displaying the selling banner of itinerant cloth workers.”
I knew nothing about a selling banner of cloth workers, itinerant or otherwise, but I knew the wagon, for Paula and I, earlier in the day, had noted its presence, with some concern.
“It matched its pace to ours, despite the traffic. This was easily determined, from the back of the wagon. When we rested, it ceased to move, and so on.”
“Paula and I noticed such a wagon,” I said. “But these congruences were a matter of coincidence.”
“Cloth workers do not sell from such a wagon,” said Kurik. “Itinerant cloth workers are peddlers. They would have a smaller wagon, or, more likely, a cart, not so fine a wagon. It would be unusual peddlers, indeed, who could afford so splendid a wagon and such a brace of prime tharlarion.”
“Coincidence, Master,” I said, “surely coincidence.”
“I should hate to trust my life to your coincidences,” he said.
“The wagon passed us,” I said, “and came to lodge at the caravanserai, before we arrived.”
“The road could be watched,” he said. “If we passed the caravanserai, it would be a simple matter to renew the pursuit. If we did not pass, how better to conceal the pursuit, than by appearing independently lodged, thus suggesting indifference or disinterest?”
“It could still be a coincidence,” I said.
“Certainly,” said Kurik. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must prepare for the attack.”
He then turned about and went across the yard, and began to busy himself about the wagon.
“I do not understand what is going on,” I said. “If some attack is imminent, and we are likely to be outnumbered, surely we should flee.”
“And be again pursued?” said Paula. “And again, and again, always fearing small sounds, an unrecognized step, an unfamiliar face? They will take a stand, one calculated to discourage pursuit.”
“I see no hope in this,” I said.
“Who would walk blindfolded amongst osts?” she said.
“The water is cold,” I said.
“Hsst,” whispered Paula.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Perhaps half an Ahn had passed since we had been locked in the cage of the slave pool.
We saw torches approaching through the wagons, approaching the yard where we had camped.
“I count eight torches,” said Paula, “and each torch bearer illuminates the way for a bowman.”
“The other shape,” I said, “with the great ax, hideous amongst them.”
“Kur, kur,” said Paula.
“Lucilius?” I said.
“Doubtless,” said she.
“We should have fled,” I moaned, softly.
“It will be done with us as men please,” said Paula. “We are caged. We are beasts, slaves.”
I, standing in the water, clutched the bars, looking out, through them. We could not affect the outcome of what might ensue.
“We must stand by,” I said. “We can do nothing. We are helpless.”
“We are only beasts, slaves,” said Paula.
The Lady Bina remained as she had been, sitting, near the fire, the wagon a yard or two behind her.
“We must call out,” I said.
“No,” said Paula, “remember the instructions of the masters.”
“But the Lady Bina,” I said.
“She is as aware as we of the torches, the men,” said Paula. “They make no effort to conceal their presence.”
“She is alone,” I said. “She has been deserted.”
“Seemingly so,” said Paula.
There was no sign of Lord Grendel, or Eve, or of Drusus Andronicus, or of Kurik, my master, in the camp.
“The others have fled,” I said. “Leaving the Lady Bina, a free woman, to the intruders, to the mercy of the minions of Decius Albus.”
“Then we, as well,” said Paula.
“We can effect nothing critical,” I said. “They were outnumbered. Their opponents have bows. Flight is rational. It was wise to flee.”
“And abandon the Lady Bina, a free woman?” she asked.
“It seems so,” I said.
“Why would they not take her with them?” she asked.
“She might encumber their flight,” I said.
“Then,” she said, “they are cowards.”
“How can it be otherwise?” I said.
“I know little or nothing of he whom you call âLord Grendel', and she whom you call âEve',” said Paula, “but Drusus Andronicus and Kurik are Goreans, masters.”
“They have left the Lady Bina,” I said.
“No coward is worthy of owning a woman,” she said.
“On this world,” I said, “it is easy to buy a woman.”
At that point, Lucilius, bearing his ax, entered the yard. He was flanked by two torch bearers, and two bowmen, quarrels readied in guides. The others, torch bearers and bowmen, appeared, alert, ranging about. The yard was well illuminated. The humans were not in the livery of Decius Albus. Their projected action was apparently to be accomplished anonymously. About the neck of Lucilius was a translator, doubtless that he might communicate with his fellows.
Lucilius looked about.
“Are you not late?” inquired the Lady Bina.
“Where is Grendel, the beast, the beast, Eve, the loathsome humans?” demanded Lucilius.
“I have been waiting for you,” said the Lady Bina.
“No,” said Lucilius, “you are taken unawares, surprised.”
“Scarcely,” said the Lady Bina.
“Astonished,” said Lucilius.
“We have been aware of your presence since early this morning,” said the Lady Bina. “It would have been easier to overlook the presence of a sleen in a vulo coop, or that of a draft tharlarion in a slave market.”
“Where is Grendel, who would not oath to Lord Agamemnon, Grendel, who freed the traitor, Surtak, Grendel, who disturbed the games of Decius Albus? Where, too, are the others of your party, the monster, Eve, and the two humans?”
“They will return shortly,” said the Lady Bina.
“Good,” said Lucilius. “We shall wait.”
“Are you sure you wish to wait?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Lucilius.
“What is your business with sweet, gentle Grendel?” asked the Lady Bina.
“I will meet him, ax to ax,” said Lucilius.
“Excellent,” said the Lady Bina. “Then dismiss your bowmen.”
“They are with me,” said Lucilius.
“Once,” said the Lady Bina, “when I was in dire straits, dear Grendel was kind enough to stand as my champion, in an arena, on the Metal World. Perhaps you witnessed the events of that afternoon, or are familiar with an account of them.”
“I do not fear him,” said Lucilius.
“Neither would I,” said the Lady Bina, “if he were pierced by eight crossbow bolts, before he could lift his ax.”
“We will wait,” said Lucilius.
“You may be prepared to die,” said the Lady Bina, “but your fellows may be less willing to do so.”
“I do not understand,” said Lucilius.
His men looked about, and at one another, uneasily.
“You have led your men, poor fellows, unwittingly to be sure, so they should not really blame you,” said the Lady Bina, “into a lethal trap.”
The torch bearers and bowmen stirred, looking apprehensively about.
“Stay where you are, do not move!” said Lucilius.
“I suggest,” said the Lady Bina, “that some of you fellows bring those torches a bit closer and lift them higher. That done, please examine the wagon, in particular, the emblem with which it is emblazoned, and the banner it flies.”
There were cries of dismay from several of the fellows about.
“The sign of Mintar, Mintar of Ar!” cried a man.
“Anticipating our meeting,” said the Lady Bina, “we arranged with the house of Mintar to transmit some parcels on his behalf to Besnit.”
I was sure this was false. But Lucilius, and certainly his cohorts, might be less certain of the matter.
I now suspected the nature of some of the mysterious objects carried in the wagon, paint, perhaps, in the cylindrical containers, and, surely, the pole and banner, which must have resided in the long, rectangular box.
“Further,” said the Lady Bina, “we informed the agents of the great merchant, Mintar, that we anticipated the appearance of caravan bandits.”
“We are not caravan bandits!” cried a man, clearly alarmed, looking about.
“Then I regret that a tragic misunderstanding has taken place,” said the Lady Bina. “I am very sorry.”
At that point, from the darkness, a voice called out, “Deploy, Sleen of Mintar, the urts are in the trap!”
Lucilius may have understood little of this, but the men with him were only too aware of the might of the merchant, Mintar, his vast web of agents and informants, his generous rewards for the apprehension of those who might be so foolish as to harrow his wagons, and the numbers and tenacity of his hunters, trained killers known for the relentless pursuit of their quarry, pursuits sometimes prolonged for years. More than one road had been lined with the impaled bodies of their prey. Too, it was rumored that Mintar had access to the resources of the state, as well. Surely it was clear that he was highly placed in the estimation of the state. It was said, even, that he occasionally enjoyed a game of kaissa with Marlenus, the Ubar himself.