John Norman - Counter Earth01 - Tarnsman Of Gor

by Tarnsman Of Gor(Lit)

  "Remove your clothing," I said.

  She looked at me in rage.

  "I told you," I said, "I am not going to take any more a chances with you. I have to find out if you have any more weapons."

  "No man may look upon the daughter of the Ubar," she said.

  "Either you will remove your robes," I said, "or I shall."

  In fury the hands of the Ubar's daughter began to fumble with the hooks of her heavy robes.

  She had scarcely removed a braided loop from its hook when her eyes suddenly lit with triumph and a sound of joy escaped her lips.

  "Don't move," said a voice behind me. "You are covered with a crossbow."

  "Well done, Men of Ar," exclaimed the daughter of the Ubar.

  I turned slowly, my hands away from my body, and found myself facing two of the foot soldiers of Ar, one of them an officer, the other of common rank. The latter had trained his crossbow on my breast. At that distance he could not have missed, and if he had fired at that range, most probably the quarrel would have passed through my body and disappeared in the woods behind. The initial velocity of a quarrel is the better part of a pasang per second.

  The officer, a swaggering fellow whose helmet, though polished, bore the marks of combat, approached me, holding his sword to me, and seized my weapon from its scabbard and the girl's dagger from my belt. He looked at the signet on the dagger hilt and seemed pleased. He placed it in his own belt and took from a pouch at his side a pair of manacles, which he snapped on my wrists. He then turned to the girl.

  "You are Talena," he said, tapping the dagger, "daughter of Marianna?''

  "You see I wear the robes of the Ubar's daughter," said the girl, scarcely deigning to respond to the officer's question. She paid her rescuers no more attention, treating them as if they were no more worthy of her gratitude than the dust beneath her feet. She strode to face me, her eyes mocking and triumphant, seeing me shackled and in her power. She spat viciously in my face, which insult I accepted, unmoving. Then, with her right hand, she slapped me savagely with all the force and fury of her body. My cheek felt as though it had been branded.

  "Are you Island?'' asked the officer, once again, patiently. "Daughter of Marianna?''

  "I am indeed, Heroes of Am,'' replied the girl proudly, turning to the soldiers. "I am Talena, daughter of Marlenus, Ubar of all Gor."

  "Good," said the officer, and then nodded to his subordinate. "Strip her and put her in slave bracelets."

  8

  I Acquire a Companion

  I LUNGED FORWARD, BUT WAS checked by the point of the officer's sword. The common soldier, setting the crossbow on the ground, strode to the daughter of the Ubar, who stood as though stunned, her face drained of color. The soldier, beginning at the high, ornate collar of the girl's robes, began to break the braided loops, a, ripping them loose from their hooks; methodically he tore her robes apart and pulled them down and over her shoulders; in half a dozen tugs the heavy layers of her garments had been jerked downward until she stood naked, her robes in a filthy pile about her feet. Her body, though stained with the mire. of the swamp, was _ exquisitely beautiful.

  "Why are you doing this?" I demanded.

  "Marlenus has fled," said the officer. "The city is in chaos. The Initiates have assumed command and have ordered that Marlenus and all members of his household and family are to be publicly impaled on the walls of Ar."

  A moan escaped the girl.

  The officer continued: "Marlenus lost the Home Stone, the Luck of Ar. He, with fifty tarnsmen, disloyal to the city, seized what they could of the treasury and escaped. In the streets there is civil war, fighting between the factions that would master Ar. There is looting and pillaging. The city is under martial law."

  Unresisting, the girl extended her wrists, and the soldier snapped slave bracelets on them-light, restraining bracelets of gold and blue stones that might have served as jewelry if it had not been for their function. She seemed unable to speak. In a moment her world had crumbled. She was nothing now but the abominated daughter of the villain in whose reign the Home Stone, the Luck of Ar, had been stolen. Now she, like all other members of the household of Marlenus, slave or free, would be subjected to the vengeance of the outraged citizens, citizens who had marched in the processions of the Ubar in the days of his glory, carrying flasks of Kalana wine and sheaves of Sa-Tarna grain, singing his praises in the melodious litanies of Gor.

  "I am the one who stole the Home Stone," I said.

  The officer prodded me with the sword. "We presumed so, finding you in the company of the offspring of Marlenus." He chuckled. "Do not fearthough there are many in Ar who rejoice in your deed, your death will not be pleasant or swift."

  "Release the girl," I said. "She has done no harm. She did her best to save the Home Stone of your city."

  Talena seemed startled that I had asked for her freedom.

  "The Initiates have pronounced their sentence," said the officer. "They have decreed a sacrifice to the Priest

  Kings to ask them to have mercy and to restore the Home Stone."

  In that moment I detested the Initiates of Ar, who, ` like other members of their caste throughout Gor, were only too eager to seize some particle of the political '.power they had supposedly renounced in choosing to wear the white robes of their calling. The real purpose of the "sacrifice to the Priest-Kings" was probably to F remove possible claimants to the throne of Ar and thereby strengthen their own political position.

  The officer's eyes narrowed. He jabbed me with his sword. "Where," he demanded, "is the Home Stone?"

  "I don't know," I said.

  The blade was at my throat.

  Then, to my amazement, the daughter of the Ubar spoke. "He tells the truth." ,.

  The officer regarded her calmly, and she blushed, realizing her body was no longer sacred in his sight, no longer protected by the power of the Ubar.

  She raised her head and said quietly, "The Home 'Stone was in the saddle pack of his tarn. The tare escaped. The Stone is gone."

  The officer cursed under his breath.

  "Take me back to Ar," said Talena. "I am ready." ' She stepped from the pile of filthy garments at her feet: and stood proudly among the trees, the wind slightly moving her long dark hair.

  The officer looked her over, slowly, carefully, his eyes gleaming. Without glancing at the common soldier, he ordered him to leash me, to fasten around my throat the leading chain often used on Gor for slaves and prisoners.

  The officer sheathed his sword, not taking his eyes from Talena, who drew back. "This one I'll leash myself," he said, drawing a leading chain from his pouch and approaching the girl. She stood still, not quivering.

  "The leash will not be necessary," she said proudly.

  "That is for me to decide," said the officer, and laughed as he snapped the chain on the throat of the girl. It clicked shut. He gave it a playful tug. "I never thought that I would have my chain on Talena, the daughter of Marlenus," he said.

  "You beast!" she hissed.

  "I see that I must teach you to respect an officer," he said, putting his hand between her throat and the chain, drawing her to him. He suddenly, savagely, thrust his mouth on her throat, and she screamed, being pressed backward, down to the clover. The common soldier was watching with delight, perhaps expecting that he, too, might take his turn. With all the weight of the heavy manacles on my wrist, I struck him across the temple, and he sank to his knees.

  The officer turned from Talena, scrambling to his feet and growling with rage, unsheathing his blade. It was only halfway from its sheath when I leaped upon him, my manacled hands seeking his throat. He struggled furiously, his hands trying to pry apart my fingers, his sword slipping from the sheath. My hands were on his throat like the talons of a taro. His hand drew Talena's dagger from his belt, and, manacled as I was, I could not have prevented the blow.

  Suddenly his eyes emitted a wordless scream, and I saw a bloody stump at the end of his arm. Talena had picked u
p his sword and struck off the hand that held the dagger. I released my grip. The officer shuddered convulsively on the grass and was dead. Talena, naked, still held the bloody sword, her eyes glassy with the horror of what she had done.

  "Drop the sword," I commanded harshly, fearing it would occur to her to strike me with it. The girl dropped the weapon, sinking to her knees and covering her face with her hands. The daughter of the Ubar was apparently not as inhuman as I had supposed.

  I took the sword and approached the other soldier, asking myself if I would kill him if he was still alive.

  I suppose now that I would have spared him, but I was not given the opportunity. He lay on the grass, motionless. The heavy manacles had broken in the side of his skull. He hadn't bled much.

  I fumbled through the officer's pouch and found the key to the manacles. It was hard to put the key in the lock, restrained as I was.

  "Let me," said Talena, and took the key and opened the lock. I threw the manacles to the ground, rubbing my wrists.

  "I ask your favor," said Talena, standing meekly by my side, her hands confined in front of her by the colorful slave bracelets, the leading chain still dangling from her throat.

  "Of course," I said. "I'm sorry." I dug about in the pouch and found the tiny key to the slave bracelets, which I opened immediately. I then removed her leading chain, and she removed mine.

  I examined with greater detail the pouches and equipment of the soldiers.

  "What are you going to do?" she asked.

  "Take what I can use," I said, sorting out the articles in the pouches. Most importantly, I found a compass-chronometer, some rations, two water flasks, bowstrings, binding fiber, and some oil for- the mechanism of the crossbow. I decided to carry my own sword and the soldier's crossbow, which I unwound, relaxing the tension on the metal span. His quiver contained some ten quarrels. Neither soldier had carried a spear or shield. I didn't want to be burdened with a helmet. I tossed to one side the leading chains, manacles, and slave bracelets that Talena and I had worn. There was also a slave hood, which I similarly discarded. I then carried the two bodies down to the swamp and pitched them into the mire.

  When I returned to the glade, Talena was sitting in the grass, near the garments that had been ripped from her. I was surprised that she had not tried to dress herself.

  Her chin was on her knees, and when she saw me she asked-rather humbly, I thought, "May I clothe myself?"

  "Surely," I said.

  She smiled. "As you can see, I carry no weapons."

  "You underestimate yourself," I said.

  She seemed flattered, then bent to the task of poking about in that pile of heavy, filthy garments. They must have been as offensive to her nostrils as to mine. At last she took a relatively unsoiled undergarment, something blue and silk, bare at the shoulders, and drew it on, belting it with a strip of what had been her veil. It was all she wore. Surprisingly, she no longer seemed as concerned about her modesty. Perhaps she felt it would be foolish after her utter exposure. On the other hand, I think that Talena was actually pleased to be rid of the encumbering, ornate robes of the daughter of the Ubar. Her garment was, of course, too long, as it had originally reached to the ground, covering the absurd platform like shoes she- had worn. At her request I cut the garment until it hung a few inches above her ankles.

  "Thank you," she said.

  I smiled at her. It seemed so unlike Talena to express any consideration.

  She walked about in the glade, pleased with herself, and twirled once or twice, delighted with the comparative freedom of movement she now enjoyed.

  I picked some Ka-la-na fruit and opened one of the packages of rations. Talena returned and sat beside me on the grass. I shared the food with her.

  "I'm sorry about your father," I said.

  "He was a Ubar of Ubars," she said. She hesitated for a moment. "The life of a Ubar is uncertain." She gazed thoughtfully at the grass. "He must have known it would happen sometime."

  "Did he speak to you about it?" I asked.

  She tossed her head back and laughed. "Are you of Gor or not? I have never seen my father except on the days of public festivals. High Caste daughters in Ar are raised in the Walled Gardens, like flowers, until some highborn suitor, preferably a Ubar or Administrator, will, the bride price set by their fathers."

  "You mean you never knew your father?" I asked.

  "Is it different in your city, Warrior?"

  "Yes," I said, remembering that in Ko-ro-ba, primitive though it was, the family was respected and maintained. I then wondered if that might be due to the influence of my father, whose Earth ways sometimes seemed at variance with the rude customs of Gor.

  "I think I might like that," she said. Then she looked at me closely. "What is your city, Warrior?"

  "Not Ar," I replied.

  "May I ask your name?" she asked tactfully.

  "I am Tarl."

  "Is that a use-name?"

  "No," I said, "it is my true name."

  "Talena is my true name," she said. Of High Caste, `it was natural that she was above the common superstitions connected with revealing one's name. Then she asked suddenly, "You are Tarl Cabot of Ko-roba, are you not?" a

  I failed to conceal my astonishment, and she laughed merrily. "I knew it," she said.

  "How?" I asked.

  "The ring," she said, pointing to the red metal band that encircled the second finger of my right hand. "It bears the crest of Cabot, Administrator of Ko-ro-ba, and you are the son, Tarl, whom the warriors of Ko-ra-ba were training in the arts of war."

  "The spies of Ar are effective," I said.

  "More effective than the Assassins of Ar," she said.: "Pa-Kur, Ar's Master Assassin, was dispatched to kill. you, but failed."

  I recalled the attempt on my life in the cylinder of my father, an attempt that would have been successful except for the alertness of the Older Tarl.

  "Ko-ro-ba is one of the few cities my father feared," said Talena, "because he realized it might someday be effective in organizing other cities against him. We of Ar thought they might be training you for this work, and so we decided to kill you." She stopped and looked at me, something of admiration in her eyes. "We never believed you would try for the Home Stone."

  "How do you know all this?" I asked.

  "The women of the Walled Gardens know whatever happens on Gor," she replied, and I sensed the intrigue, the spying and treachery that must ferment within the gardens. "I forced my slave girls to lie with soldiers, with merchants and builders, physicians and scribes," she said, "and I found out a great deal." I was dismayed at this-the cool, calculating exploitation of her girls by the daughter of the Ubar, merely to gain information.

  "What if your slaves refused to do this for you?" I asked.

  "I would whip them," said the daughter of the Ubar coldly.

  I began to divide the rations I had taken from the pouches of the soldiers.

  "What are you doing?" asked Talena.

  "I am giving you half of the food," I said.

  "But why?" she asked, her eyes apprehensive.

  "Because I am leaving you," I said, shoving her share of the food toward her, also one of the water flasks. I then tossed her dagger on top of the pile. "You may want this," I said. "You may need it."

  Fox the first time since she had learned of the fall of Marlenus, the daughter of the Ubar seemed stunned. Her eyes widened questioningly, but she read only resolve in my face.

  I packed my gear and was ready to leave the glade. The girl rose and shouldered her small bag of rations. "I'm coming with you," she said. "And you cannot prevent me."

  "Suppose I chain you to that tree," I suggested.

  "And leave me for the soldiers?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "You will not do that," she said. "Why I do not know, but you will not do that."

  "Perhaps I shall," I said.

  "You are not like the other warriors of Ar," she said. "You are different."

 
"Do not follow me," I said.

  "Alone," she said, "I will be eaten by animals or found by soldiers." She shuddered. "At best, I would be picked up by slavers and sold in the Street of Brands."