running line, as the girls, under the whips of Kurii, fled, terrified, seeing
the axes, the leveled weapons, toward them, made a sign no bond-maid of the
north mistakes, the belly sign. Almost as one the girls, crying out, flung
themselves to their bellies among the bodies and the charge of the men of
Torvaldsland, missing not a step, took its way over them, striking the startled
Kurii with an unimpeded impact. I cut down one of the Kurii with its whip. "When
the whip is put to the back of slaves," I told it, "it is we who shall do so."
There was, instantly, fierce fighting, in and among, and over, the bodies of the
tethered bond-maids. Those who could covered their heads with their hands.
Bodies, human and Kur, fell bloodied to the grass. Bond-maids, half crushed,
some with broken bones, screamed. They struggled, some to rise, but, tethered,
few could do so. Most lay prone, trembling, as the feet shifted about them,
weapons clashing over their heads. The Kurii, some seventeen or eighteen hundred
of them, fell back. "Cut the wenches free," ordered Svein Blue Tooth. Blades
swiftly freed the prone, hysterical bond-maids. Many were covered with blood.
Svein Blue Tooth, and others, by the hair, hurled bond-wenches to their feet.
"Get to the pen!" he cried. They stumbled away, hurrying to the pen. "Help her!"
ordered the Blue Tooth to two frightened girls. They bent to lift and support
one of their sisters in bondage, whose leg was broken, binding fiber still
knotted about the ankle. "Tarl Red Hair!" wept Gunnhild. My blade flashed at her
throat, cutting the tether that bound her, on either side, to two other girls.
"Get to the pen," I told her. "Yes, my Jarl!" she cried, running toward the pen.
The girls, those who could, fled the field, to return to the pen in which the
Kurii had originally confined them. Those who could not walk were, under the
orders of-men, by other bond-maids, carried or aided to the pen. I saw Pretty
Ankles put out her hand to Ivar Forkbeard. Severed binding fiber was knotted
tight about her belly. "To the pen," commanded the Forkbeard. Weeping, she
hurried to the pen. "They charge!" cried a man. With a great howling, again
Kurll ran toward us. Our lines buckled but, again, after minutes of terrible
fighting, they fell back. On one side of me fought the mighty Rollo, his lips
foaming, his eyes wild, on the other side he who called himself Hrolf, from the
East, the bearded giant with bloodied spear. Well did he acquit himself. Then
others stood with me. Rollo went to the signal spear. He who spoke of himself as
Hrolf disappeared. Twice more were there charges, once by Kurii, once by men. We
were thrown back from the shield wall with devastating losses. Had it not been
for the force of Svein Blue Tooth, the power of his voice, the mightiness of his
presence, Kurii might then have taken the initiative. "Form lines!" he cried.
"Regroup! Spears to the second line!" A hedge of spears, projecting from the
lines of men, men with axes between them, waited for Kurii, should they try to
press their advantage. Then the spear line faced the shield wall. A hundred
yards of bloodied grass, of bodies, of men and Kurii, separated two species of
warring animal. Kurii from within the camp, where they could, streamed to join
their comrades. Men, too, where they could break away from small battles,
individual combats, found their way to our lines. It seemed startling to me that
we had stood against Kurii, but we had. The Kurii showed no signs of emerging
from the shield wall. It consists of two lines, one on the ground, the other at
chest level, of overlapping shields. The shields turn only for the blows of
axes. We could see the two front lines, one kneeling, one standing, of Kurii.
Similar lines, fierce, obdurate, protective, extended about the formation, on
all sides, forming the edges of the Kurii war square. Within the square, formed
into ragged "Hands," "Kurii," and "Bands," with their appropriate leaders, were
massed a considerable number of Kurii, ready to charge forth should the shield
wall open, or to support it if it seemed in danger of weakening. It was my
supposition that their square contained, now, better than twenty-three hundred
beasts. "Let us again attack the square!" cried a man. "No," said Svein Blue
Tooth. "We cannot break the square." "They will wait for night," said Ivar
Forkbeard. Men shuddered. The Kur has excellent night vision. Men would, for
practical purposes, be blind. "They will slaughter us with the fall of night,"
said a man. "Let us withdraw now," said another. "Do you not think they will
hunt us in the darkness?" asked Svein Blue Tooth. He looked up. "It is past
noon," he said. Then he said, "I am hungry." He looked to some of his men. "Go
to Kurii fallen. Cut meat. Roast it before our lines." "Good," said Ivar
Forkbeard. "Perhaps they will break the square for us." But the square did not
break. Not a beast moved. Svein Blue Tooth threw Kur meat into the dirt, in
disgust. "Your plan has failed," said Ivar Forkbeard. "Yes," said Svein Blue
Tooth grimly, "they are waiting for night." I saw the general within their
square, the huge Kur whom I had seen before, in the hall of Svein Blue Tooth, it
with the golden ring on the left arm. The ring of gold, as far as I knew, had no
military significance. Many Kurii wear such rings, and necklaces and earrings.
That no ring of reddish alloy was worn, which would distinguish the leader of a
Band or March was of interest. The leader of a Band wears two welded, reddish
rings, the leader of the March, which contains twelve Bands, only one. The
general in the form tion against which we stood wore not even one reddish rin
Surely he was not a "Blood" of a "People." Yet there w little doubt of his
authority, or his right to such authority expected he stood as a commander from
one of the stcworlds themselves, sent to unite and command native Kur
"Sometimes," said I. "Kurii react to blood, reflexively.' "They have had their
fill of blood," said Ivar Forkbeard. "The air is heavy with it." Even I could
smell blood, mixing with the smoke of fires, where Kurii lodges burned. But the
Kurii square held. It did not move. "They are patient," said Svein Blue Tooth.
"They wait for night." At the same time Ivar Forkbeard and myself looked one
another. I smiled. He grinned. "We shall break the square," I told Svein Blue
Tooth, "We shall do so in one Ahn. Find what food and water you can. Feed the
men. Give them drink. Be ready." He looked at us, as though we might be mad. "I
shall," he said, fingering the stained tooth of the Hunjer whale whi ch hung
about his neck. Kurii lifted their heads, apprehensive. They heard 1 bellowing,
before it came to the ears of men. The earth began to tremble. Dust, like smoke,
like the earth was burning, rolled in the air. They looked to one another. Then
the air was filled with the thunder of hoofs, bellowing of the bosk. The bosk,
in their charging hundreds, heads down, hooves pounding, maddened, relentless,
driven, struck the square. We heard, even from behind the herd, Ivar, and I, and
a hundred men, screaming and shouting, the howling, the startled shrieks of
Kurii, the enraged roars of Kurii. We heard the scraping of horns on me
tal, the
screams of gored Kurii; the howls of Kurii fallen beneath the hoofs. Nothing on
Gor withstands the charge of the maddened bosk. Larls themselves will flee
before it. The herd thrust through the square and, half milling, half still
running, emerged from its other side, making for the slopes of the valley.
Dazed, injured Kurii, their formations disrupted, reeled, only to find, among
them, screaming men, the launched horde of Svein Blue Tooth. His charge was
unleashed while the last of the bosk were still striking the western edge of the
square, and other animals were streaming, bellowing, goring, through it.
Screaming men, axes raised, emerged from the dust, running, falling upon the
devastated Kurii. Not an instant had they been given to regroup themselves.
Kurii, howling, fled, knots of men following individuals. "Press them! Press
them!" screamed the Blue Tooth. "No quarter. No quarter!" Once again the camp
became a melee of small combats, only now the Kurii, where they could, fled. If
they fled north, they were permitted to do so, for north lay the "bridge of
jewels." Since morning this "bridge" had lain in wait, more than four hundred
archers surmounting the pass. That there is an apparent avenue of escape serves
to make the enemy think in terms of escape; a cornered foe, desperate, is doubly
dangerous; a foe who thinks he may, by swift decision, save himself, is less
likely to fight with ferocity; he is quicker to abandon his lines, quicker to
give up the combat. Ivar and I strode through the burning camp, axes in our
hand. Men followed us. Where we came on them we killed Kurii. We passed the
poles of the vast pen. Within it, looking through the bars, not daring to leave
it, were hundreds of bond-maids. We saw Pouting Lips within. Behind her was
Leah, the Canadian girl. Ivar blew Pouting Lips a kiss, in the Gorean fashion,
brushing the kiss with his fingertips toward her. She extended her hands through
the poles but we turned away, leaving her, and the Canadian girl, behind them.
We saw a sleen herding a girl back to the pen. She was turning about, crying,
scolding it, but it, snarling, relentless,snapped at her, cutting at her heels
with its fangs. She: before it, weeping, running to the pen. Ivar and I laughed.
"They are useful beasts in herding women," he observed. "My Jarl," said a voice.
We turned about. Hilda knelt before Ivar Forkbeard, her hair to his feet. "May I
not follow my Jarl?" she begged. "A lowly bond-maid begs to heel her Jarl."
"Then, heel," said Ivar, good-naturedly, turning away "Thank you, my Jarl!" she
wept, leaping to her feet, falling into step on his left, two steps behind him.
We heard, behind a tent, the snarl of a Kur. Ivar and I swiftly, circled the
tent. It was a large Kur, brownish, with blazing eyes, rings its ears. In its
right hand it dragged a human female. It was Thyri. Ivar motioned me back.
Blocking the path of the Kur was a man, in a kirtle of white wool, a collar of
black iron at his throat. He held his ax lifted. The Kur snarled, but the man,
Tarsk, Thrall of the Forkbeard, once Wulfstan of Kassau, did not move. More than
once today had I seen the fellow Tarsk at work in the fighting. In the lines of
Svein Blue Tooth, once he had fought not more than six men from my right. His
ax, and his kirtle, were much bloodied. Many times had his ax in the ferocities
of combat drunk the blood of Kurii. The Kur threw the girl to one side. In her
collar she f whimpering, her eyes filled with terror. The Kur cast about and
suddenly darted its great hand down and clutched an ax, a Kur ax. Wulfstan did
not strike. He waited. The lips of the Kur drew back. He now had the ax firmly
in his two heavy fists. He snarled. Thyri lay on her side, the palms of her
hands on the ground, her right leg under her. She watched the two beasts
contesting her, the Kur and the human beast, terrible with the bloodied ax,
Wulfstan of Kassau. The fight was swift and sharp. Ivar was pleased. "You did
well," he told the young man. "You did well earlier today, and now. You are free
At his feet lay the bloodied Kur. He stood over it, a free man. "Wulfstan,"
cried Thyri. She sprang to her feet and ran to him, burying her head, weeping,
in her hair against his chest. "I love you," she wept. "I love you!" "The wench
is yours," laughed Ivar Forkbeard. "I love you," wept Thyri. "Kneel," said
Wulfstan. Startled, Thyri did so. "You are mine now," said Wulfstan. "But surely
you will free me, Wulfstan!" she cried. Wulfstan lifted his head and uttered a
long, shrill whistle, of the sort with which Kurii summon herd sleen. One of the
animals must have been within a hundred yards for it came immediately. Wulfstan
lifted Thyri by one arm and threw her before the beast. "Take her to the pen,"
said Wulfstan to the animal. "Wulfstan!" cried Thyri. Then the beast, snarling,
half-charged her, stopping short, hissing, eyes blazing. "Wulfstan!" cried
Thyri, backing away from the beast, shaking her head. "No, Wulfstan!" "If I
still wish you later," he said, "I will retrieve you from the pen, with others
which I might claim as my share of the booty." "Wulfstan!" she cried,
protesting. The sleen snapped at her, and, weeping, she turned and fled to the
pen, the beast hissing and biting at her, driving her before it. The three of us
laughed. Ivar and I had little doubt that Wulfstan, upon reflection, would
indeed retrieve his pretty Thyri, vital and slim, from the pen, and, indeed,
perhaps others as well. Once the proud young lady of Kassau had spurned his
suit, regarding herself as being too good for him. Now he would see that she
served him completely, deliciously, helplessly, as a bond-maid, an article of
his property, his to do with as he wished, and perhaps serve him as only one of
several such lowly wenches. We laughed. Thyri would wear her collar well for a
master such as Wulfstan, once of Kassau, now of Torvaldsland. We looked after
her. We saw her, furious, running helplessly for the pen, the sleen at her
heels. Ivar Forkbeard, followed by Tarl Red Hair and Wulfstan of Torvaldsland,
heeled by the bond-maid, Hilda, picked his way toward the burned, looted tents
of Thorgard of Scagnar. In the valley there burned, still, a thousand fires.
Here and there, mounted on stakes, were the heads of Kurii. W stepped over
broken axes, shattered poles, torn leather, from the lodges of the Kurii. We
passed a dozen men emptying kegs of ale. It had become cloudy. We heard a ship's
song from two hundred yards to our right. We passed a group of men who had
captured a Kur. A heavy block of wood had been thrust into its jaws and, with
leather, bound there. It was bleeding at the left side of its face. Its paws had
been tied together at its belly and its legs tied in leather ankle shackles.
They were beating it back and forth between them with the butts of spears.
"Down! Roll over!" commanded one of the men. It was beaten to its knees and then
belly. Prodded by spears it rolled over. A girl fled past us, a sleen, brown and
black, padding at her heels. I slipped once. The dirt, in many places, was soft,
from the blood. We picked our way among bodies, mostly those of Kurii, for the
sur prise, the fury, had been ours. We pass
ed five men, about fire, roasting a
haunch of Kur. The smell was heavy, and sweet, like blood. In the distance,
visible, was the height the Torvaldsberg. I saw Hrolf, from the East, the
bearded giant who had joined our forces, asking only to fight with us, leaning
on his spear, soberly, surveying the field. In a other place we saw a framework
of poles set on the field. From the crossbar, hung by their ankles, were the
bodies five Kurii. Two were being dressed for the spit; two, as yet had been
untouched; blood was being drained into a helm from the neck of the fifth. "Ivar
Forkbeard!" cried the man holding the helmet. He lifted the helmet to Ivar. Over
the helmet Ivar doubled a nd held his fist, making the sign of Thor. Then he
drank, a handed to me the helmet. I poured a drop from the helm to the reddish,
muddied earth. "Ta-Sardar-Gor," said I, " the Priest-Kings of Gor." I looked
into the blood. I saw nothing. Only the blood of a Kur. Then I drank. "May the
ferocity of the Kur be in you!" cried the man. Then, taking the helmet back, and
throwing his head back, he drained it, blood running at the side of his mouth,
trickling to the fur at the collar of his jacket. Men about cheered. "Come,"
said Ivar to us. "Look," said a man nearby. He was cutting, with a ship's knife,
a ring of reddish alloy from the arm of a fallen Kur. The knife could not cut
the ring. He lifted it, obdurate and bloody. It was the only ornament the beast
wore. "A high officer," said Ivar. "Yes," said the man. Be hind him stood a
blond slave girl, naked, her hair falling to her waist. I gathered she belonged
to him. "We are victorious!" said the man to her, brandishing the ring. Over her
iron collar she wore a heavy leather Kur collar, high, heavily sewn, with its
large ring. He thrust her two wrists, before her body, into the ring he had cut
from the Kur. He then tied them inside, and to, the ring. He then, from his
belt, took a long length of binding fiber and, doubling it, looped it, securing
it at its center to the ring, leaving two long ends. He then threw her, on her
back, over the body, head down, of the fallen Kur. He took the two loose ends of
the binding fiber and, taking them under the body of the fallen Kur, dragged her
wrists, elbows bent, over and above her head; he then, bending her knees, tied
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