Read Nomads of Gor Online

Authors: John Norman

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Adventure, #Gor (Imaginary Place), #Cabot; Tarl (Fictitious Character), #Outer Space, #Nomads, #Outlaws

Nomads of Gor (44 page)

 
into the wagon. Bring slave bracelets and a whip. Then go to

 
the wheel."

 
She looked at him, but did not appear afraid. "Why?" she

 
asked.

 
Kamchak dismounted. "You were overly long in fetching

 
water," he said.

 
Elizabeth and Aphris had gone into the wagon.

 
"She was wise to return," said Kamchak.

 
I agreed with him but would not say so. "It seems she was

 
fetching water," I pointed out.

 
"You like her, don't you?" asked Kamchak.

 
"l feel sorry for her," I said.

 
"Did you enjoy her yesterday?" asked Kamchak.

 
"I did not see her after she left the enclosure of the

 
dance," I said.

 
"If I had known that," said Kamchak, "I would have had

 
the sleen out last night."

 
"Then," I said, "it is fortunate for the girl that you did not

 
know it.

         
"Agreed," smiled Kamchak. "Why did you not make use

         
of her?" he inquired.

         
"She is only a girl," I said.

         
"She is a woman," said Kamchak, "with blood."

         
I shrugged.

       
  
By this time Elizabeth had returned with the whip and

         
bracelets, and had handed them to Kamchak. She then went

         
to stand by the left, rear wheel of the wagon. There

         
Kamchak braceleted her wrists thigh over her head about the

         
rim and over one of the spokes. She faced the wheel.

         
"There is no escape from the wagons," he said.

         
Her head was high. "I know," she said.

         
"You lied to me," he said, "saying you went to fetch

         
water."

     
    
"I was afraid," said Elizabeth.

         
"Do you know who fears to tell the truth?" he asked.

         
"No," she said.

         
"A slave," said Kamchak.

         
He ripped the larl's pelt from her and I gathered that she

         
would wear the garment no longer.

         
She stood well, her eyes closed, her right cheek pressed

         
against the leather rim of the wheel. Tears burst from be-

         
tween the tightly pressed lids of her eyes but she was superb,

         
restraining her cries.

         
She had still uttered no sound when Kamchak, satisfied,

         
had released her, but fastening her wrists before her body

         
with the bracelets. She stood trembling, her head down. Then

         
he took her braceleted hands and with one hand raised her

         
hands over her head. She stood so, her knees slightly flexed,

         
head down.

         
"You think," said Kamchak to me, "she is only a girl."

         
I said nothing.

         
"You are a fool, Tarl Cabot," said he.

 
        
I did not respond.

         
Coiled, in his right hand, Kamchak still held the slave whip.

         
"Slave," said Kamchak.

         
Elizabeth looked at him.

         
"Do you wish to serve men?" he asked.

 
        
Tears in her eyes she shook her head, no, no, no. Then her

         
head fell again to her breast.

         
"Observe," said Kamchak to me.

         
Then, before I could realize what he intended, he had

         
subjected Miss Cardwell to what, among slavers, is known as

         
the Whip Caress. Ideally it is done, as Kamchak had, unex-

pectedly, taking the girl unawares. Elizabeth suddenly cried

out throwing her head to one side. I observed to my amaze-

ment the sudden, involuntary, uncontrollable response to the

touch. The Whip Caress is commonly used among Slavers to

force a girl to betray herself.

"She is a woman," said Kamchak. "Did you not see the

secret blood of her? That she is eager and ready that she

is fit prize for the steel of a master that she is female, and,"

he added, "slave?"

"Nor" cried Elizabeth Cardwell. "Nor" But Kamchak was

pulling her by the bracelets toward an empty sleen cage

mounted on a low cart near the wagon, into which, still

braceleted, he thrust her, then closing the door, locking it.

She could not stand in the low, narrow cage, and knelt,

wrists braceleted, hands on the bars. "It is not truer" she

screamed.

Kamchak laughed at her. `'Female slave," he said. She

buried her head in her hands and wept. She knew, as well as

we, that she had showed herself that her blood had leaped

within her and its memory must now mock the hysteria of

her denial that she had acknowledged tows and to herself,

perhaps for the first time, the incontrovertible splendor of her

beauty and its meaning.

Her response had been that of an utter woman.

"It's not true!" she whispered over and over, sobbing as

she had not from the cruel strokes of the whip. "It's not

truer"

Kamchak looked at me. "Tonight," lie said, "I shall call

the Iron Master."

"Don't," I said.

"I shall," he said.

'Why?" I asked.

He smiled at me grimly. "She was too long in fetching

water."

I said nothing. Kamchak, for a Tuchuk, was not unkind.

The punishment of a runaway slave is often grievous, some-

times culminating in death. He would do no more to Elizabeth

Cardwell than was commonly done to female slaves among

the wagons, even those who had never dared to speak back

or disobey in the least particular. Elizabeth, in her way, was

fortunate. As Kamchak might have said, he was permitting her

to live. I did not think she would be tempted to run away again.

I saw Aphris sneaking to the cage to bring Elizabeth a

dipper of water. Aphris was crying.

         
Kamchak, if he saw, did not stop her. "Come along," he

         
said. "There is a new kaiila I want to see near the wagon of

         
Yachi of the Leather Workers' Clan."

         
It was a busy day for Kamchak.

         
He did not buy the kaiila near the wagon of Yachi of the

         
Leather Workers though it was apparently a splendid beast.

         
At one point, he wrapped a heavy fur and leather robe-about

         
his left arm and struck the beast suddenly on the snout with

         
his right hand. It had not struck back at him swiftly enough

         
to please him, and there were only four needlelike scratches

         
in the arm guard before Kamchak had managed to leap back

         
and the kaiila, lunging against its chain, was snapping at him.

         
"Such a slow beast," said Kamchak, "might in battle cost a

         
man his life." I supposed it true. The kaiila and its master

         
fight in battle as one unit, seemingly a single savage animal,

         
armed with teeth and lance. After looking at the kaiila

         
Kamchak visited a wagon where he discussed the crossing of

         
one of his cows with the owner's bull, in exchange for a

         
similar favor on his own part. This matter was arranged to

         
their mutual satisfaction. At another wagon he haggled over

         
a set of quiva, forged in Ar, and, obtaining his price, ar-

         
ranged to have them, with a new saddle, brought to his

         
wagon on the morrow. We lunched on dried bask meat and

         
Paga and then he trooped to the wagon of Kutaituchik,

   
      
where he exchanged pleasantries with the somnolent figure on

         
the robe of gray boskhide, about the health of the bask, the

         
sharpness of quivas and the necessity of keeping wagon axles

         
greased, and certain other matters. While near Kutaituchik's

         
wagon, on the dais, he also conferred with several other high

         
men among the Tuchuks. Kamchak, as I had learned before,

         
held a position of some importance with the Tuchuks. After

         
seeing Kutaituchik and the others, Kamchak stopped by an

         
Iron Master's wagon, and, to my irritation, arranged for the

         
fellow to come by the wagon that very night. "I can't keep

         
her in a sleen cage forever," Kamchak said. "There is work

         
to be done about the wagon." Then, to my delight,

         
Kamchak, borrowing two kaiila, which he seemed to have no

         
difficulty doing from a Tuchuk warrior I had not even seen

         
before rode with me to the Omen Valley.

         
Coming over a low, rolling hill, we saw a large number of

         
tents pitched in a circle, surrounding a large grassy area. In

         
the grassy area, perhaps about two hundred yards in diame-

         
ter, there were literally hundreds of small, stone altars. There

         
was a large circular stone platform in the center of the field.

 
On the top of this platform was a huge, four-sided altar

 
which was approached by steps on all four sides. On one side

 
of this altar I saw the sign of the Tuchuks, and on the others;

 
that of the Kassars, the Kataii and the Paravaci. I had not

 
mentioned the matter of the Paravaci quiva which had al-

 
most struck me last night, having been in the morning dis-

 
turbed about the disappearance of Elizabeth Cardwell and in

 
the afternoon busy following Kamchak about in his rounds. I

 
resolved to mention the matter to him sometime but not

 
this evening for I was convinced this would not be a good

 
evening for anyone in the wagon, except perhaps for

 
Kamchak, who seemed pleased about the arrangements he

 
had made with the herder pertaining to crossing livestock and

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