by John Norman
“The beasts do not look lightly upon treason,” said another.
“Let us leave singly, and inconspicuously,” said another.
At this point we heard a rushing about in the hall outside, a snarling, much roaring, and the jangle of weapons.
“Ela!” said a man. “They have come for us!”
“No,” said Desmond. “Listen! Weapons clash!”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Beware! Back!” cried Desmond of Harfax, thrusting me to the side of the hall.
Four Kurii, claws scratching on the smooth tiles of the hall flooring, hurried by. They carried improvised shields of nailed wood and spears. One turned about, surveying us, eyes bright, determined that we were human, growled, and rejoined his fellows. A kajira, Chloe, sped past us, in the other direction.
“What is going on?” I asked.
“War,” said Master Desmond, “but it seems one in which we are not implicated.”
“I do not understand,” I said.
“One in which we are not yet implicated,” he said.
Astrinax appeared at our side.
“This is our opportunity,” he said, “to escape the Cave. I have been to the great portal. It is no longer guarded.”
“What of the guards?” asked Desmond.
“One is dead,” he said. “I do not know the whereabouts of the other.”
“Four Kurii, armed, passed us, a moment ago,” said Desmond.
“I think some beasts have left the Cave,” said Astrinax. “I fear chaos reigns.”
“Back,” said Desmond, and we shrank back against the wall.
“What is it?” said Astrinax.
“I do not know,” said Desmond.
“The machine,” I said. “You have not seen it. I know the sound. It is the machine!”
Approaching down the corridor, moving carefully, the stalk-like eyes rotating about, scanning, came the machine, accompanied by two shield-bearing, ax-carrying Kurii, Timarchos and Lysymachos.
“Aii!” said Astrinax.
The machine paused, and the stalk-like eyes turned toward us, but then it, and its fellows, passed us, as had the previous Kurii, but in the other direction.
I supposed that it was reconnoitering or looking for isolated foes.
I did see that the large pincer-like appendages were wet with blood. If the barbed darts with their thin cables had been fired, they had now been withdrawn into the torso of the device.
“It does exist,” said Astrinax.
“You see,” said Desmond. “Slaves can speak the truth, without the assistance of torture.”
“That is Agamemnon?” said Astrinax.
“Yes,” said Desmond.
“He is a machine?” said Astrinax.
“Now,” said Desmond. “He might have many bodies.”
“Let us gather men, who will be our allies,” said Astrinax, “acquire supplies, warm clothing, and depart. Pausanias and his wagons have gone. We have the kaissa sheets. They must be distributed. Gor must be warned.”
“We must exercise caution,” said Desmond.
“The great portal is clear,” said Astrinax.
“It is not obvious we may leave with impunity,” said Desmond. “Too, I suspect most of the men will not care to desert their gold.”
“Some may flee,” said Astrinax.
“Alone, into the mountains, with gray winter on the horizon?”
“Before the snows,” said Astrinax.
“Let them,” said Desmond. “I will remain.”
“Why?” said Astrinax.
“To kill Agamemnon,” said Desmond.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I clutched the bars of the slave cage in which Desmond of Harfax had placed me. I shook the bars, as I could. “Come back, Master!” I had cried. “Come back, release me, Master!” But he had gone.
He had thrust me into the cage, and then swung shut the gate, securing me within. How helpless one feels in such a cage! I had turned about, quickly, to regard him. He was standing back, contemplating me. The shadow of the bars fell across my body. He was grinning. He liked to see me so, naked, caged. “I hate you!” I said.
“Lie down,” he said. “On your side. Curl, kajira.”
I did so.
“You are a pretty little bundle,” he said. “How high your hip, the lovely curve to your love cradle, your calves, your small feet.”
He smiled.
My eyes must have flashed fire.
“Yes,” he said, “pretty.”
“I hate you,” I said. “I hate you!”
He had then turned away.
It was then that I had risen to my knees, clutched the bars, and called after him, but he had not come back.
He had left me in a cage, a cage, as it had pleased him!
I recalled how he had looked upon me! How boldly! He had looked upon me as what I was, an animal, a pretty animal, which might be bought and sold, which might be done with as a master might please. I held the bars. I pressed myself against them.
I was caged, and helpless.
How strong are men! How they look upon us! How much we are at their mercy! How I hated him! How I wanted to kiss his feet. How I wanted to please him, as a naked slave!
* * * *
We had not anticipated a Kur revolt, the rising of several of the iron-chain Kurii against the silver- and gold-chain Kurii. Indeed, we had not been clear, for more than a day, what was occurring. We did know that there was skirmishing in the halls, and that some Kurii had attacked others. The humans in the Cave, I am sure, would have been muchly pleased to have remained neutral in such an altercation, as a single human, or even two or three, was a sorry match for a Kur. But, as may often be the case in such affairs, neutrality was not acceptable to committed belligerents. The choice accorded to humans was, in effect, certain death or participation in the conflict, supporting one faction or the other. I suppose this had partly to do with Kur distrust of humans, partly with an unwillingness that some might profit in safety and comfort from the pain and blood of others, and partly with the fanatic conviction of each party in its righteousness, which justified the impressment of reluctant allies. Which side a given fellow found himself on seemed to be largely an accident, a matter of vicinity. Master Desmond, though, with his fellows from the secret meeting, including Astrinax, Lykos, Trachinos, Akesinos, and Kleomenes, had worked his way through to the positions held by the adherents of Agamemnon. The point of this, I gathered, was to gain access to the container so that he might, when the opportunity afforded itself, open it and destroy its contents.
It was four days into the revolt before we learned that the leader of the revolutionaries was Lucius himself, whom many of us had taken to be high Kur in the Cave. His ambition it was, it seems, to replace Agamemnon, and further the schemes which Agamemnon had put in place. It was not a question of overthrowing a state, or relinquishing its intrigues and projected imperialisms, but appropriating a state with its established strengths. He was less interested, so to speak, in overthrowing a throne than in changing its occupant. I had been aware, for some time, of the jealousy, envy, and resentment felt by many lesser Kurii for those placed above them, for whatever reason it might be, intelligence, energy, vision, some conception of merit, success in some form of competition, blood connections, the machinations of politics, the accidents of time or place, or simple fortune. If they could not wear a golden chain why should anyone? Let there be a golden chain for everyone, or no golden chains. I supposed that golden chains, so to speak, would always exist, though perhaps not always be displayed. They did not realize that not every golden chain is visible. The imposition and consolidation of equality requires equality enforcers, and this introduces a new inequality. But that would become visible only when the new establishment was in place. Order is essential; it is only a question as to who will impose it. The mass, manipulated and utilized, aroused and employed, harrowed and bled, when the disruption and killing is done, when the entertainment is over, remains the ma
ss.
Chapter Forty
I lay, naked, in the cage.
Other kajirae, as well, were so incarcerated. As animals, we would await the decisions of masters.
Things were muchly unsettled in the Cave.
The door of the slave quarters moved a little, not much. Then I heard Jane scream. I forced my face against the bars to my right, trying to see to the door. Jane was across the room, and could easily see what was in the threshold.
I heard another girl scream.
Then I saw it, large, four-legged, some six or seven feet at the shoulder, with a wide, triangular-shaped head, lowered now, sunk now between its shoulders. It had a heavy, silken, reddishly tawny coat. Its paws were broad and thickly matted. Such a creature could move comfortably on rocky slopes, on ice, through snow. For all its size it moved with the sinuous, stealthy grace one might have expected of a smaller animal. The eyes were large, and the ears, tufted, bent forward. It sunk to its belly, and its long tail moved back and forth. The beast seemed passive, except that the agitation of the tail bore witness to an inward excitement. I had never seen such a beast this close. I had seen one, perhaps this one, weeks ago, on a slope across from the Cave’s main portal, perhaps three or four hundred paces away.
I suspected that the portal now was not guarded, or only sporadically guarded.
I shrank back in the cage, as the beast, head down, moved a little toward me, and then crouched down. It moved a little more toward me, again, and was then again still. It did not pounce or charge. It did put its broad face near the bars. I saw its nostrils widen. It then put its snout literally against the bars, while I stayed as far back as I could. It made a small noise, as if puzzled. One large paw was put to the bars, but they were closely enough set that it could not enter the cage. I did see fangs. There was no blood about them. It then backed away, looked about the room, and exited through the gate.
My heart began to pound. I gasped, trying to breathe. Then I think I lost consciousness.
Chapter Forty-One
In fifteen days the revolt was muchly suppressed.
Many of the iron-chain Kurii had not supported the insurrection organized by Lucius. There were presumably several reasons for this, but one supposes loyalty and discipline were significantly involved. Many Kurii recognized the need for societal order, and recognized their role in maintaining that order. Rather than regarding themselves as the oppressed and exploited dupes of a tyrannical establishment, as they were encouraged to do, they saw themselves as the reliable and confident defenders of a valuable, proven tradition. Too, one supposes that the charisma of the almost legendary Agamemnon, whom many had followed on another world, was unlikely to be eclipsed by a renegade upstart. The fact that Lucius had been a golden-chain Kur, too, might have given some cause for reflection. He was not truly of the iron-chain Kurii. But is it not often the case that a disgruntled scion of the elite, one of station, if not of principle, eager for greater power, will seek to exploit the discontent and resentments of others for his own purposes? Demagogues are unstinting and lavish, careless and generous, in expending the blood of others. It is not their own. Behind how many gleaming veils, emblazoned with rhetorical embroideries, lurk secret, unbespoken realities? Too, societal life, like organic life, I supposed, had its inertias and habits, and balances, emerging over generations, sustained over time, vindicated in practice. Perhaps such things are best changed only incrementally, and then only with circumspection. Change is part of life; but an advantageous metamorphosis is rare. How simple the complexity of the world seems to the simple, and arrogant. The law of gravity may be objectionable, but with what is it to be replaced?
In any event, whatever might be the cause, most insurrections fail, and those that succeed seldom do more than restore the past with new bodies and different labels.
We kajirae had been uninvolved in the small war in the Cave. We, as vulos and verr, were not combatants. We were generally confined to the slave quarters, and sometimes caged. As indicated, men had been recruited, or impressed, by each faction and some, forced into battle, had been slain in the fighting. On the other hand, it was clear to the Kurii that humans made indifferent allies in a quarrel that had little, if anything, to do with them. That, doubtless, was the motivation for Agamemnon’s issuance of an amnesty for all humans who had served under Lucius or his lieutenants. Their coming, weaponless, to the lines of Agamemnon, had been a not inconsiderable blow to the insurgents. A similar amnesty had been granted to the Kurii who had served with Lucius, but only five availed themselves of this offer. These, as we learned later, had been disemboweled and strangled with their own intestines.
In any event, after some fifteen days, the fighting had diminished to an occasional skirmish in the halls. Lucius, and his followers, now reduced to a small number, were still at large in the Cave, but it was not clear where. Lucius, from his former position of authority, was extremely familiar with the Cave, not only with its open halls, and its less open, or more restricted, halls, but, too, as it turned out, with a diversity of less recognized passageways, several of which were obscure and unfamiliar, if not secret.
The greatest victory of the insurgents had occurred on the ninth day of the insurrection, when they had managed to trap, attack, and destroy the most recent body of Agamemnon, the large, mobile, crab-like machine which had been, as it turned out, fearsomely effective in the halls. A portion of the corridor had been undermined, to the degree that it could not withstand the weight of the machine. Moreover, the ceiling above this point had been prepared in such way that when the trap was sprung the ceiling, connected to the trap, would collapse. Kurii concealed nearby were then to rush forth and attack the device with axes. Agamemnon had sent two of his cohorts forward to scout his path. The floor, of course, could sustain this weight, even of two large Kurii. The bait for the trap was Lucius himself who let it appear that he was surprised in the corridor, and had then fled. To secure the very leader of the enemy was seemingly too great a prize to be ignored, and the machine, following its two scouts, abandoned its hitherto stately pace. The result was that the machine dipped into the trap, stalled, and, a moment later, was half buried in the rubble of the collapsing ceiling. The two scouts, advanced, unable to block the charge of several ax-bearing Kurii, were cut down in place, and the machine was struck by blow after blow of the axes. The machine, of course, was supported by Kurii loyal to Agamemnon, including Timarchos and Lysymachos, and the ax-bearing Kurii were soon forced to withdraw. The container which had been incorporated within the steel body of the machine was rescued by Timarchos, who bore it to safety. The machine, however, which apparently contained a large amount of intricate circuitry, could not be repaired. We did not know, after that, whether or not Agamemnon possessed another body. Doubtless, on his former world, he may have had a variety of bodies. Here, however, in effect, in exile, his resources were presumably limited. He did retain, of course, the loyalty of his followers, who doubtless associated him with a body, but no particular body.
I knocked, lightly, on the door of the small room which had been assigned to Desmond of Harfax. In my hands I held a deck of cards. It had been given to me by Astrinax, and I was to deliver it to Master Desmond.
“Who is there?” said Desmond.
“Allison,” I said.
“Is that how you identify yourself?” he asked.
“Forgive me, Master,” I said, frightened. I knew that I could be punished, if I had not been found pleasing, and I feared I might not have been found pleasing. How different it is with free women!
“Knock, again,” he said.
I did so.
“Who is there?” he said.
“Allison, a slave, Master,” I said.
“What is your errand?” he asked. It would be a bold slave, indeed, who would approach a free man, unbidden, without suitable justification. To be sure, a slave may approach her master thusly, perhaps to beg to be caressed, but I was not his slave.
“I bring a deck o
f cards, from Master Astrinax,” I said.
“Are you kneeling?” he asked.
The door was between us.
“I am now,” I said.
Thus, when the door was opened, I would be suitably positioned, slave before free, property before person.
He opened the door, and I lifted the deck of cards to him.
“Head down,” he said, “arms extended.”
I then lowered my head, humbly, between my two arms, and lifted the deck to him, it held in two hands.
He looked about, and then said, “Inside.” Then he said, “Kneel there.”
“It is an ordinary deck of cards,” I said.
“Do not be foolish,” he said.
I did know that messages were somehow conveyed in some decks of cards, but, as far as I could tell, this was an ordinary deck. It did have the speckling about the edges of the deck, which I had seen in the Cave, but I had seen such cards, as well, in the house of chance. Indeed, many decks came decorated, in one fashion or another.
“You are illiterate,” he said.
“Yes,” I said.
“But you can read cards, can you not?”
“I can tell the colors,” I said, “and recognize the pictures, the Tarn, the Sleen, and such.”
“The deck is presumably arranged in order, as might be a new deck, a sealed deck,” he said, “from White Tarn to Red Ost.”
“That would be Initiate’s Tarn through Warrior’s Ost,” I said.
“Yes,” he said, “and that will make your work easier.”
“My work?” I said.
He drew forth a small sheet of paper, with tiny writing on it. It was one of several such sheets. These were removed from a small chest, which contained some tunics, and, in a drawer-like tray, a handful of nondescript objects. The room was very bare. It contained this chest, a stool, a small table, and a simple couch. I did note that the couch did contain a slave ring, with a loop of chain. Also, on the wall, on its peg, there hung a slave whip. I had never been in this room before. And I hoped no kajira had been fastened at the slave ring, at least by Desmond of Harfax. The sheet of paper, one of several, which had been removed from the chest, had been taken not only from the tray, but from beneath a paper which had seemed to floor the tray. Thus, a cursory search might not have revealed these papers.
