Beasts of Gor coc-12

by John Norman

  “Come!” cried the first guard.

  They ran down the hall.

  Other guardsmen appeared.

  “To the hall!” I cried.

  They fled past me.

  In a moment I was at the double portal, the first barred, of the house of Samos.

  “What is it, Captain?” asked one of the guards there.

  “I think it is nothing,” I said. “A new guardsman, affrighted at a shadow or noise sounded the alarm.”

  “Is it a false alarm?” said the man.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “Perhaps a sleen is loose,” said another guard.

  “That would be serious,” I admitted.

  “Perhaps we should assist,” said one of the guards.

  “I think you should remain at your post,” I said.

  “He is right,” said another.

  “Is my boat ready?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said one of the guardsmen. He opened the interior gate, and then the heavy iron portal.

  “Stop him!” we heard. “Stop him!” These shouts came from down the hall.

  “It sounds as though there is an intruder,” I said.

  “He will not get past us,” said one of the guardsmen.

  “Good man,” I commended him.

  “I wish you well, Captain,” said the man.

  “I wish you well, too, Guardsman,” said I. Then I stepped across the narrow court before the house of Samos and down into the waiting longboat.

  “To the house, Captain?” asked Thurnock.

  “Yes,” I said.

  6. Two Girls Are Made Slaves; I Proceed Northward To Lydius

  I lay on my belly before the small pond, and, with the palm of my hand, lifted water to my mouth.

  When I heard the sound of the tharlarion, some four or five of them, I rose to my feet.

  “Have you see aught of a sport slave?” she asked.

  “No,” I said.

  She was very lovely and attractive in her hunting costume, brief tunic and long hose, brown, a scarlet cape and cap, the cap with a feather. She carried a short, yellow bow, of Ka-la-na wood, which could clear the saddle of the tharlarion, its missile being easily released to either side. Her black boots, slick and shining, were spurred. A quiver of arrows, yellow, was at the left of her saddle.

  “Thank you, Warrior,” she said, and wheeled the light saddle tharlarion, its claws scattering pebbles by the side of the pond.

  She was with four men, also on upright tharlarion. They followed her as she sped away.

  She had had dark hair, dark eyes.

  I did not envy the sport slave

  I stood in the midst of fields south of the Laurius river, some forty pasangs inland from the shore of Thassa, some one hundred and twenty pasangs south of the river port of Lydius, lying at the mouth of the Laurius river, on its farther side. My tarn was foraging. I had brought it inland where game was more plentiful.

  I had had at that time no intention of stopping at Lydius. My business lay far to the north.

  I did not know how long it would take my tarn to make a kill and return. Usually this can be done within the Ahn. There is little scarcity of game on Gor, save in relatively populated areas. Usually one spots game from the saddle and calls “Tabuk,” which is the tarn’s hunting signal. I had, however, spotted little suitable game, and so had released the tarn to do his own foraging. When the tarn takes game one may either retain the saddle or not. If there is no press of time I have usually surrendered it, if only to stretch my legs. Too, the feeding of a tarn is not pleasant to witness.

  From a distance, approaching, I could see a small retinue, not more than some fourteen persons.

  A free woman, robed in white, veiled, was being carried in a sedan chair by four draft slaves. Beside the chair, on either side, afoot, walked a girl. Each was veiled but bare-armed. From the fact that their arms had been bared to the gaze of men I knew they were slaves.

  The journey from Port Kar north had been long.

  I felt in a good humor.

  Besides the women and the draft slaves, the latter chained by the wrists and neck to the sedan chair, there were seven warriors, six spearmen and their captain.

  I walked about the edge of the pond, to meet them. They were approaching the pond, presumably to draw water.

  I waited, standing, my helmet over my back, my shield behind my left shoulder, leaning on my spear.

  The retinue stopped, seeing me. Then, at a gesture from the robed figure in white, it proceeded again. It stopped some fifteen feet from me.

  “Tal,” said I, lifting my right hand to them, palm facing the left.

  They did not respond.

  The captain stepped forth. They did not seem then to me to be pleasant fellows.

  “Who are you?” asked the captain.

  “One who has greeted you,” I said.

  “Tal,” said he, lifting his hand.

  “Tal,” I rejoined.

  “We have seen nothing of the sport slave,” he said.

  “I do not hunt him,” I said.

  “Where is your tharlarion?” asked one of the men.

  “I have none,” I said.

  “Do not block our way,” said the captain.

  “I mean you no harm,” I said. “I greet you in peace and friendship.”

  “Who are you?” asked the captain.

  “I am one who is of the warriors,” I said. “And I am a traveler, a visitor now in this country.”

  “What is your business?” he asked.

  “It lies in the north,” I said.

  “He is a brigand from the forests north of Laura,” said the lady.

  “No, Lady,” said I, deferentially. I inclined my head to her, for she was free, and obviously of high station.

  “You have been greeted,” she said, icily. “Now stand aside.”

  I thought her tone surly.

  I did not move.

  “This is the retinue of Constance, Lady in Kassau, enroute to Lydius, returning from the sights of Ar.”

  “She must be rich,” I said. Surely this was true, for her to travel as she did, not in public caravan.

  “Stand aside,” said the captain.

  “A moment, Captain,” said I. I looked to the free woman. “I am a man, dear lady,” said I, “and am of the warriors. I have journeyed far.”

  “I do not understand,” she said.

  “I assume,” said I, “that you will linger briefly here, to fill the flasks of water, if not camp for the night.”

  “What does he want?” she asked.

  “He is of the warriors, milady,” said the captain.

  “Forgive me, Lady,” said I, “but my need is much upon me.”

  The two slave girls, bare-armed and veiled, quickly glanced to one another.

  “I do not understand,” said the graceful figure in the sedan chair. She was free.

  I grinned at her. “I have food,” I said. “I have water. But I have not had for four days a woman.”

  She stiffened. The night before I had left Port Kar I had had Vella sent naked to my room. I had used her ruthlessly several times, before sleeping and, early in the morning, when I had awakened. “Take me with you,” she had begged. “So that you might with another Bertram of Lydius,” I asked, “conspire against me?” “He tricked me, Master,” she wept. “He tricked me.” “I should have you lashed to within an inch of your life, Slave Girl,” I had told her. “I am innocent, Master,” she had wept I had then turned my back on her and left her, naked, chained in the furs at the foot of my couch.

  But that had been four days ago

  I gestured to the two girls with the free woman. One of them slightly lowered her veil.

  “I will pay well for the use of one of these slaves,” I said to the free woman.

  “They are my personal slaves,” she said.

  “I will give a silver tarsk for the brief use of one, either that you might indicate,” I said.

  The war
riors looked at one another. The offer was quite generous. It was unlikely that either of the girls would bring so much on the block.

  “No,” said the free woman, icily.

  “Permit me then to buy one,” I said, “for a golden tarn.”

  The men looked at one another, the draft slaves, too. Such a coin would fetch from the block a beauty fit for the gardens of a Ubar.

  “Stand aside,” said the free woman.

  I inclined my head. “Very well, Lady,” said I. I moved to one side.

  “I deem myself to have been insulted,” she said.

  “Forgive me, Lady,” said I, “but such was not my intent If I have done or said aught to convey that impression, however minutely, I extend to you now the deepest and most profound of apologies and regrets.”

  I stepped back further, to permit the retinue to pass.

  “I should have you beaten,” she said.

  “I have greeted you in peace and friendship,” I said. I spoke quietly.

  “Beat him,” she said.

  I caught the arm of the captain. His face turned white. “Have you raised your arm against me?” I asked.

  I released his aim, and he staggered back. Then he slung his shield on his arm, and unsheathed the blade slung at his left hip.

  “What is going on!” demanded the woman.

  “Be silent, foolish woman,” said the captain.

  She cried out with rage. But what did she know of the codes?

  I met his attack, turning it, and he fell, shield loose, at my feet. I had not chosen to kill him.

  “Aiii!” cried one of the draft slaves.

  “Kill him! Kill him!” cried the free woman. The slave girls screamed.

  Men shouted with rage.

  “Who is next?” I asked.

  They looked at one another.

  “Help me,” said the captain. Two of the men went to him and lifted him, bleeding, to his feet. He looked at me, held between his men.

  I stood ready.

  He looked at me, and grinned. “You did not kill me,” he said.

  I shrugged.

  “I am grateful,” he said.

  I inclined my head.

  “Too,” said he, “I know the skills of my men. They are not poor warriors, you understand.”

  “I am sure they are not,” I said.

  “I do not choose to spend them,” he said. He looked at me. “You are a tarnsman,” he said.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I thought it would be so,” he said. He looked at me. “I give you greetings of the caste of warriors,” he said.

  “Tal,” said I.

  “Tal,” said he.

  “Kill him!” cried the free woman. “Kill him!”

  “You have wronged this man,” said the captain. “And he has labored within the permissions of his codes.”

  “I order you to kill him!” cried the free woman, pointing to me.

  “Will you permit us to pass, Warrior?” asked the captain.

  “I am afraid, under the circumstances,” I said, “that is no longer possible.”

  He nodded. “Of course not,” he said.

  “Kill him!” cried the free woman.

  “We are six now who can fight,” said the captain. “It is true that we might kill him. I do not know. But never have I crossed swords with one such as he. There is a swiftness, a sorcery, a savageness in his steel which in a hundred fights to the death I have never encountered. And yet I now stand alive beside your chair to explain this to you, who are incapable of understanding it.”

  “He is outnumbered,” she pointed out.

  “How many will he kill?” asked the captain.

  “None, of course!” she cried.

  “I have crossed steel with him, Lady,” said the captain. “Do not explain to me the nature of swordplay and odds.” He looked to his men. “Do you wish to fall upon him, Lads?” he asked, smiling wryly.

  “Command us, and we shall attack,” said one of the men.

  I thought their discipline good.

  The captain shook his head ruefully. “I have crossed steel with him, Lads,” said he. “We shall withdraw.”

  “No!” screamed the free woman.

  The captain turned, supported by two men.

  “Cowards!” she cried.

  The captain turned to face her. “I am not a coward, Lady,” said he. “But neither am I a fool.”

  “Cowards!” she cried.

  “Before I send men against one such as he,” said the officer, “it will be to defend a Home Stone.”

  “Coward! Cowards!” she screamed.

  “I have crossed steel with him,” said the captain. He then, held between his men, withdrew. More than one of them cast glances at me over their shoulder. But none, I think, wished to return to do contest.

  I resheathed the blade.

  “Turn about,” said the free woman to the draft slaves. She would follow the retreating warriors.

  “Do not turn about,” I said to them.

  They obeyed me. The sedan chair stayed as it was. “Why did you not kill them?” asked one of the draft slaves.

  “You were of the warriors?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said he.

  “It seems not fitting you should be chained to a lady’s chair,” I said.

  He grinned, and shrugged.

  “Will you not permit me to withdraw, Warrior?” asked the free woman.

  “These seem fine fellows,” I said. “Doubtless you have the key to these chains in your possessions.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Give it to her,” said I, indicating one of the slave girls. This was done, and, at my gesture, the girl freed the draft slaves.

  They rubbed their wrists, and moved their heads, no longer in the iron circle of the collars.

  The sedan chair rested still on their shoulders. They looked at me, well pleased.

  “I will let you have the use of one of the girls for a silver tarsk,” said the free woman.

  I looked up at her. “It is a bit late for that, my dear Lady Constance,” I said.

  “I will sell one of them to you for a golden tarn,” she said.

  “That seems a high price to ask for a slave girl,” I said.

  She lifted up her veiled head. “You may have the use of one or both for free,” she said.

  “Lady Constance is generous,” I said.

  She did not lower her head to so much as glance upon me. “I give them to you,” she said.

  “Lower the chair,” I said to the draft slaves. The chair was lowered.

  “Free them,” I said, indicating the draft slaves.

  They stood about her, looking at her. She sat nervously in the chair. “You are free,” she said. “You are free.”

  They grinned, and did not move.

  “You may go,” she said. “You are free.”

  I nodded to them and, together, grinning and striking one another in their pleasure, they withdrew. One remained for a moment. “My thanks, Warrior,” he said.

  “It is nothing,” said I, “—Warrior.”

  He grinned, and turned, hurrying after the others.

  The two slave girls looked at one another.

  “Remove your veils,” said the free woman.

  The two girls pulled away their veils. Both were pretty.

  I smiled at them. They blushed, basking in my smile.

  “They are yours, of course, if you wish,” said the free woman, gesturing with her head to the two girls.

  One of the girls looked at me, and I nodded.

  “No!” cried the free woman. One of the girls had lifted aside the first of the free woman’s veils, and the other had brushed back the first of her hoods.

  “No!” cried the free woman. Then, despite her protest, the first girl drew aside the last veil which concealed her features, and the second girl brushed back the final hood, revealing her hair, which was blond. The free woman’s blue eyes looked at me, frightened. She had been face
-stripped. I saw that she was beautiful.

  “Stand,” I said to her.

  She stood.

  “I will pay you well to conduct me to safety,” she said. Her lip trembled.

  “If the beauty of your body matches that of your face,” I said, “it is the collar for you.”

  “It will be the collar for her, Master!” cried one of the slave girls, delightedly:

  “Fina!” cried the free woman.

  “Forgive me, Mistress!” said the girl.

  The two girls lifted aside the free woman’s robes, until she stood displayed before me.

  I walked about her. “Yes,” I said, “it is the collar for you, Lady Constance.”

  “Daphne! Fina!” cried the free woman. “Protect me!”

  “Do you not know enough to kneel before your master, foolish slave?” chided Fina.

  Numbly the Lady Constance knelt.

  “In my belongings, over there,” I said to one of the girls, she called Daphne, “there is a collar. Bring it.”

  “Yes, Master,” she cried happily, running to where I had indicated, a place beside a small tree some fifty yards from the pond. I had made a temporary camp there, while awaiting the return of the tarn. I scanned the skies. It was not in sight.

  “On your hands and knees, head down,” I said to the Lady Constance.

  She assumed this posture, her blond hair hanging forward, downward, over her head.

  I roughly collared her and she sank moaning to her stomach in the grass.

  I then tied the hands of the two slave girls behind their backs and knelt them by the sedan chair. I then took what valuables and moneys there were in the chair, kept in the cabinets at its sides, and slung them, some scarfed and others placed in pouches, about the necks of the two slave girls. I was surprised. The owner of the chair had been rich indeed. There was a fortune there, and the notes for other fortunes. I would keep none of this. I had what I wanted. She lay collared in the grass.

  “Stand,” I said to the two slave girls.

  They stood, obediently. I pointed off, over the grass. The former slaves could be seen in the distance. “Do you see the men?” I asked. “Yes, Master,” they said. “Here in the wilderness, bound, alone, you will die,” I pointed out. “Yes, Master,” they said, frightened. “Follow the men,” I said to them. “Beg them to keep you, and the riches you bear.” “We shall, Master,” they said. “I think they will be agreeable,” I conjectured. “Yes, Master,” they said, looking down. “And that you may appear more worth keeping about, and to facilitate your pursuit of the men,” I said, “I will take the liberty of shortening your tunics.” “Yes, Master,” they said, pleased. But when I had finished my work they looked at me, frightened. They shrank back. “Hurry now,” said I, “after the men, before I rape you myself.” They laughed and turned and ran after the men. “Overtake them before dark,” I said, “for sleen may soon be prowling.” “Yes, Master,” they cried. I laughed, watching them stumble, weighted with riches, after the former draft slaves.