permit it, in love. Bera went to the next man, to fill his cup with mead, from
the heavy, hot tankard, gripped with cloth, which she carried. She was sweating.
She was barefoot. The bond-maid was happy. I drank. The wench Leah again pressed
herself against me. I looked down upon her. "You are a wanton slave," I said.
She looked up at me, laughing. "A girl in a collar is not permitted
inhibitions," she said. It was true. Slave girls must reveal their sexual
nature, totally. Do they not do so, they are beaten. On Earth, Leah had been a
prim girl, reserved, even haughty and formal. I had forced these truths from
her. But on Gor, as with others of her ilk, such lies and false dignities were
not permitted her. On Gor, should the girl be so unfortunate as to fall into
slavery, the total depth of her needs, her sensations, her deepest and most
concealed sensualities, must expose themselves helplessly to the master, even
though he may, if he choose, mock her cruelly, to her misery, for her
vulnerabilities. An example will make this clear. Every woman, of glandular
normality, has an occasional desire, often frightening her, to writhe
lasciviously, naked, before a powerful male. Should she miserably fall to
slavery the passion dance of a nude slave girl will surely be among the least of
what is commanded of her. Consider then the plight of the girl. She is forced,
to her shame, to do what she has, for years in the secret heart of her, yearned
to do. But how helpless, how vulnerable, she is! The dance ended, she falls to
the sand, or tiles. Has she pleased him? She can do no more. She looks up. Her
pride is gone, like her clothing, save for brand and collar, stripped away.
There are tears in her eyes. She is at his mercy. If he repudiates her, she is
shamed; she has failed as a female. Probably she will be sold in disgust. But if
she discovers, to her terror, that she has pleased him, and he gestures her to
him, she knows that she, after such a performance, cannot be respected but can
be only a slave in his arms. She has danced as a slave; she will be used as a
slave. She is a slave. Leah looked up at me. I kissed her again, full on her
rouged slave mouth. She kissed well, trembling. And earlier, too, she had danced
well. And then, too, later, at first given no choice, then, excited, helplessly
aroused, unrestrainable, abandoned, uncontrollable, had performed superbly,
serving me well, in the furs. I looked down upon her. Eyes moist, she lifted her
lips, eagerly, to mine. I kissed her again. I was pleased that the Forkbeard had
given her to me. "I would speak!" called Svein Blue Tooth, rising to his feet,
lifting a horn of mead. "Outlawry," said he, "once proclaimed by the hall of
Blue Tooth against the person of Ivar Forkbeard, he of Forkbeard's Landfall, is
herewith, in this hall, in this place, in the name of Svein Blue Tooth, Jarl of
Torvaldsland, lifted!" There was a great cheer. "Charges appertaining thereto,"
roared the Blue Tooth, spilling mead, "are revoked!" There were more cheers
among the ashes, the blackened, fallen timbers, of the Blue Tooth's razed hall,
amidst which the benches and tables of the feast were set. Many were the lamps,
bowls on spears, which burned, and torches, too. And brightly glowed the long
fire in the hall, over which tarsk and bosk, crackling and glistening with hot
fat, roasted, turned heavily on spits by eager, laughing bond-maids. "Svein Blue
Tooth and I," said Ivar Forkbeard, rising, spilling Hilda from his lap, "have
had our differences." There was much laughter. The Forkbeard had had a price on
his head. The Blue Tooth had sought his life. "Doubtless," said he, "it is
possible we shall have them again." There was again much laughter. "For a man,
to be great, needs great enemies, great foes." The Forkbeard then lifted his
mead to Svein Blue Tooth. "You are a great man, Svein Blue Tooth," said he, "and
you have been a great enemy." "I shall now," said the Blue Tooth, "if it be
within my power, prove to be so good a friend." Then the Blue Tooth climbed to
the table's top and stood there, and the Forkbeard, astonished, climbed, too, to
the surface of the table. Then the men strode to one another, meeting one
another and, weeping, embraced. Few eyes, I think, in the ruins of that hall,
under the torchlight, beneath the stars, the height of the Torvaldsberg in the
distance, illuminated in the light of the three moons, were dry. Svein Blue
Tooth, his arms about the Forkbeard, cried out, hoarsely. "Know this, that from
this day forward, Ivar Forkbeard stands among the Jarls of Torvaldsland!?' We
stood and cheered the fortune, the honor, that the Blue Tooth did unto the
Forkbeard. Ivar, no longer outlaw, now stood among the Jarls of the north. Spear
blades rang on shields. I stood proudly, strong in my happiness for the fortune
of my friend. But as the men cried out, and cheered, and the weapons clashed on
shields, I looked to a place in the hall where, mounted on a great stake, was
the huge, savage head of the Kur, which I had slain on the Skerry of Vars. For a
man to be great, had said Ivar Forkbeard, he must need great enemies. I looked
at the huge, somber, shaggy head of the Kur, mounted on its stake, some eight
feet from the ground. I wondered if men, truly, knew how great their enemies
were. And I wondered if men, in ways so weak, so puny, were adequate to such
foes. The Kur, it seemed to me, in virtue of its distant, doubtless harsh
evolution, was well fitted to be a dominant form of life. It would prove indeed
to be a great foe. I wondered if man could be so great a foe, if he in his own
terribleness, his ferocity, his intelligence, could match such a beast. On his
own worlds, in a sense, man had no natural enemies, save perhaps himself. I
regarded the huge, somber head of the Kur. Now he had one, a predator, a foe.
Could man be a match for such a beast? I wondered on what might be the magnitude
of man. "Gifts!" cried Ivar Forkbeard. His men, bearing boxes, trunks, bulging
sacks, came forward. They spilled the contents of these containers before the
table. It was the loot of the temple of Kassau, and the sapphires of Schendi,
which had figured in the wergild imposed upon him by Svein Blue Tooth in the
days of his outlawry. Knee deep in the riches waded Ivar and, laughing, hurled
untold wealth to those in the hall. Then his men, too, distributed the riches.
Then, too, naked slave girls were ordered to the riches, to scoop up sapphires
in goblets and carry them about the tables, serving them to the men, kneeling,
head down, arms extended, as though they might be wine, and the warriors,
iaughing, reached into the cups and seized jewels. I saw Hrolf, from the East,
the giant, mysterious Torvaldslander, take one jewel from the goblet proffered
him, kneeling, by a naked, collared beauty. He slipped it in his pouch, as a
souvenir. Ivar Forkbeard himself came to me, and pressed into my hand a sapphire
of Schendi. "Thank you," said "Ivar Forkbeard," I, too, slipped the sapphire
into my pouch. To me, too, it was rich with meaning. "Ivar!" called Svein Blue
Tooth, when the loot was distributed, pointing to Hilda, who, in her collar,
stripped cuddled at the Forkbeard's side, "a
re you not, too, going to give away
that pretty little trinket?" "No!" laughed the Forkbeard. "This pretty little
trink this pretty little bauble, I keep for myself!" He then took Hilda in his
arms and, holding her across his body, kissed her. She melted to him, in the
fantastic, total yielding of the slave girl. "Guests!" shouted a man. "Guests to
enter the hall Svein Blue Tooth!" We looked to where once had stood the mighty
portals the hall of Svein Blue Tooth. "Bid them welcome," said the Blue Tooth,
and he himself left the table, taking a bowl of water and towel to meet the
guests at the portal. "Refresh yourselves," said he to them, "and enter." Two
men, with followers, acknowledged the greeting Svein Blue Tooth; they washed
their hands, and their faces and they came foward. I stood. "We have sought
you," said Samos of Port Kar. "I had feared we might be too late." I did not
speak He turned to regard the huge, shaggy head of the Kur mounted on its stake.
"What is this?" he asked. "Grendel," I said to him. "I do not understand," he
said. "It is a joke," I said. Beside me, naked, in her collar, Leah shrank back,
her hand before her mouth. I look at her. "Yes," I said. She had been of Earth,
a free girl until brought as a slave to Gor. She understood my meaning. New
understanding, new recognition, figured in her eyes. The wars of Priest-Kings
and Others, the Kurii, were of an cient standing. I did not know, nor I suppose
did others, outside the Nest, when the first contacts had been made, the first
probes initiated, the first awareness registered on the part of Priest-Kings
that there were visitors within their system, strangers at the gates, intruders,
dangerous and unwelcome, threatening, bent upon the acquisition of territories,
planetary countries. It seemed to me not unlikely that the Grendel of legend had
been a Kur, a survivor perhaps of a forced landing or a decimated scouting
party. Perhaps, even, as a punishment, perhaps for impermissible murder or for
violation of ship's discipline, he had been put to shore, marooned. "How is it
that you have sought me?" I asked. "The poison," said he, "that which lay upon
the blades of the men of Sarus of Tyros, lurks yet in your body." "There is no
antidote," I told him. "This I had from Iskander of Turia, who knew the toxin."
"Warrior," said the man who stood with Samos, "I bring the antidote." "You are
Sarus of Tyros," I said. "You sought my capture, my life. We have fought as foes
in the forests." "Speak," said Samos to Sarus. Sarus regarded me. He was a lean
man, hard, scarred, with clear eyes. He was not of high family in Tyros, but had
risen through the ranks to captainship in Tyros. His accent was not of high
caste; it had been formed on the jetties of the island Ubarate of cliffed Tyros,
where he had for years, I had learned, led gangs of ruffians; caught, he had
been dragged before Chenbar, the Sea Sleen, for sentencing to impalement;
rather, Chenbar had liked the looks of him and had had him taught the sword;
swiftly, given his skills and intelligence, had the young, rugged brigand risen
in the service of the Ubar; they were as brothers; there was; I was sure, no man
in Tyros more loyal to her Ubar than Sarus. It was to him, as soon as Chenbar,
freed of the dungeon of Port Kar, to which I had seen him consigned, had
returned to Tyros, that the task had been given to hunt and capture the Ubar of
Ar, Marlenus, and an Admiral of Port Kar, Bosk. Of these matters I have
elsewhere written. "The weapons of my men and myself, unknown to us, before we
left Tyros," said he, "were treated with a toxin of the compounding of Sullius
Maximus, once a Ubar of Port Kar." Sullius Maximus had been one of the five
Ubars of Port Kar, whose reigns, dividing the city, had been terminated when the
Council of Captains, under the leadership of Samos, First Captain of Port Kar,
had assumed the sovereignty. The others had been Chung, Nigel, Eteocles, and
Henrius Sevarius, the last of which, however, had ruled in name only, the true
power being controlled by his uncle, Claudius, acting in the role of regent.
Eteocles had fled; I had known him last to be in terraced Cos, an advisor to her
Ubar, gross Lurius, of the Cosian city of Jad. Nigel and Chung were in Port Kar,
though now only as powerful captains, high in her council. They had fought
against the united fleets of Tyros and Cos and, without their help, doubtless
Port Kar could not have won the great victory of the 25th of Se'Kara, in the
first year of the reign of the Council of Captains, in the year 10,120 Contasta
Ar, from the Founding of Ar. Claudius, who had been regent for Henrius Sevarius,
and had slain his father, and sought the life of the boy, had been slain by a
young seaman, a former slave, named Fish, in my house. The whereabouts of
Henrius Sevarius, on whose head a price had been set, were unknown to the
Council of Captains. The boy named Fish, incidentally, was still in my service,
in Port Kar. He now called himself Henrius. Sullius Maximus, most cultured ofthe
former Ubars of Port Kar, a chemist and poet, and poisoner, had sought refuge in
Tyros; it had been granted him. "I swear to you that this is so," said Sarus.
"We of Tyros are warriors and we do not deal in poisons. Upon my return to
Tyros, Sullius inquired if our foes had been wounded, and I informed him that
indeed we had struck you, drawing blood. His laughter, as if demented, he
turning away, alarmed me. I forced the truth from him. I was in agony. It was to
you that my men and myself, those who survived, owed their lives. Marlenus would
have carried us to Ar for mutilation and public impalement. You were
magnanimous, honoring us as warriors and sword brothers. I demanded an antidote.
Laughing, Sullius Maximus, adjusting his cloak, informed me that there was none.
I determined to slay him, and then take ship to Port Kar, that you might then,
if you chose, cut my throat with your own hands. When my blade lay at the heart
of the poisoner Chenbar, my Ubar, aroused by his weeping, bade me desists.
Swiftly did I inform my Ubar of the shame that Sullius Maximus had wrought upon
the Ubarate. 'I have ridded you of an enemy!" cried Sullius. 'Be grateful!
Reward me!"Poison,' said Chenbar, 'is the weapon of women, not warriors. You
have dishonored me!' 'Let me live!' cried the poisoner. 'Do you, Sarus, retain
the poisoned steel?' inquired my Ubar. 'Yes, my Ubar,' replied I. 'In ten days,
wretched Sullius,' decreed my Ubar, 'your flesh will be cut with the steel of
Sarus. On the tenth day, if you would again move your body of your own will, it
would be well for you to have devised an antidote.' Sullius Maximus, then,
shaken, white-faced, tottering, was hurried by guards to his chambers, his vials
and chemicals." Sarus smiled. He removed a vial from his pouch. It contained a
purplish fluid. "Has it been tested?" asked Samos. "On the body of Sullius
Maximus," said Sarus. "On the tenth day, on his arms and legs, and twice,
transversely, across his right cheekbone, that his face be scarred and his shame
known, I drew the poisoned blade, drawing blood with each stroke." I smiled.
Sullius Maximus was a handsome man, extremely vain, even foppish. He would not
&nb
sp; appreciate the alteration of his physiognomy, wrought by the blade of Sarus.
"Within seconds," said Sarus, "the spiteful fluid took its effect. The eyes of
Sullius were wild with fear. 'The antidote! The antidote!' he begged. We sat him
in a curule chair, vested as a Ubar, and left him. We wished the poison to work,
to be truly fixed within his system. The next day, when the bar of noon was
struck on the wharves, we administered to him the antidote. It was effective. He
is now again in the court of Chenbar, much chastened, but serving again as
laureate and advisor. He is not much pleased, incidentally, with the scarring of
his countenance. Much amusement on account of it is taken at his expense by his
fellows of the court. He holds little affection for you, or for me, Bosk of Port
Kar." "He called you 'Bosk of Port Kar, " said Ivar Forkbeard, standing near me.
I smiled. "It is a name I am sometimes known by," I said. Sarus proffered to me
the vial. I took it. "There is, I discover, attendant upon its assimilation,"
said Sarus of Tyros, "delirium and fever, but, in the end, the body finds itself
freed of both poison and antidote. I give it to you, Bosk of Port Kar, and with
it the apologies of my Ubar, Chenbar, and those of myself, a seaman in his
service." "I am surprised," I said, "that Chenbar, the Sea Sleen, is so
solicitous of my welfare." Sarus laughed. "He is not solicitous of your welfare,
Warrior. He is solicitous, rather, of the honor of Tyros. Little would please
Chenbar more than to meet you with daggers on the fighting circle of Tyros. He
owes you much, a defeat, and chains and a dungeon, and he has a long memory, my
Ubar. No, he is not solicitous of your welfare. If anything, he wants you well
and strong, that he may meet you, evenly, with cold steel." "And you, Sarus?" I
inquired. "I," said Sarus, simply, "am solicitous of your welfare, Bosk of Port
Kar. You gave, on the coast of Thassa, freedom, and life, to me and my men. I
shall not, ever, forget this." "You were a good leader," I said, "to bring your
men, some wounded, from high on Thassa's coast to Tyros." Sarus looked down.
"There is place in my house in Port Kar " I said, "for one such as you, if you
wish to serve me." "My place," said Sarus, "is in Tyros." Then he said, "Drink,
Norman, John - Gor 09 - Marauders of Gor.txt Page 36
