had made the suggestion was probably from the river port of Ar’s Station. In the
country, impalement is often used, the pole usually being set up near a
crossroads.
“Let them be trampled by tharlarion,†sad a fellow.
“No, let them be torn apart by them,†said another. In this fashion ropes are
tied separately to the victim’s wrists and ankles, these ropes then attached to
the harnesses of two different tharlarion, which are, of course, then driven in
opposite directions.
“Yes, that is better,†agreed the first.
If one shares a Home Stone with the victim, of course, the punishment is often
more humane. A common punishment where this mitigating feature obtains is to
strip the victim, tie him to a post, beat him with rods and then behead him.
This, (pg. 15) like the hanging in chains, the exposure on boards, and such, is
a very ancient modality of execution.
I saw a knife leave a sheath in the driving rain. “There is no time,†said a
man. “I will cut their throats now.â€
There were murmurs of assent.
The brigands looked up, bound, from their knees.
“There is no time to waste,†said a man. “If the storm ceases, and the cloud
cover scatters, the tarnsmen of Artemidorus may strike at the columns.â€
Artemidorus was a Cosian, the captain of a band of flighted mercenaries.
“In a few Ahn it will be morning,†said a man.
The fellow with the knife stepped forward, but I blocked his path.
“These prisoners are mine,†I said.
“They are known in this area,†said the man with the knife.
“Step aside,†said another. “Let justice be done.â€
“Move the wagons!†called a fellow in the back.
“There are many of us here,†said the fellow with the knife, not unpleasantly.
“The wagon is still off the road,†I said, indication the left wheels. “Let us
move the column forward.â€
“To cut three throats will take but three Ihn,†said the fellow.
“Help me return the wagon to the road,†I said.
“You are clever,†said the fellow in the rain. “You would enlist our support,
and thus have us be your fellows, and thus deny us our will.â€
“You will not help?†I said.
“Get ten men to help!†said he. “I will not be deterred.â€
“Move the wagons!†called a man from behind him. I heard tharlarion snorting and
bellowing, even in the rain. There were some five lanterns where we were. I
could see others lit, farther back in the arrested line.
“I myself am prepared to cut throats if we do not move in two Ehn,†said a
fellow. “I have a companion in my wagon, and two children. I would get them to
safety.â€
“You will not help?†I asked the fellow with the knife.
“No,†said he.
“Stand back,†I said. I then bent over, and backed under the rear of the wagon.
(pg.16)â€Do not,†said the fellow of the driver, who held one of the lanterns.
“He is mad,†said another.
“Look!†cried another.
I straightened up slowly, lifting the laden wagon. I looked at the man with the
knife. The wheel of the wagon, that to my right, spun slowly, free, the rain
glistening in the lantern light on its iron rim. The men were quiet in the rain.
I moved to my left, inch by inch. I then slowly, observing the man with the
knife, lowered the wagon to the road. It settled on the blocks of fitted stone.
I emerged from beneath the end of the wagon. Painfully I straightened up. I
looked down at the fellow with the knife.
He stepped back. He resheathed his knife. “They are your prisoners,†he said.
“Get to the wagon box,†I said to the fellow of the driver. “Lose no time. Get
out of here. When you can I would hood the prisoners, coarse sacking, cloth,
anything, and tie it down securely about their necks. Do not let them be
recognized for a hundred pasangs. If they are slain on you they will fetch
little from the master of a work gang.â€
“Our wagon was that of Septimus Entrates,†he said.
“Very well,†I said. That meant nothing to me.
“I wish you well!†he said, hurrying around the wagon.
“I wish you well,†I said after him, and drew my pack from the back of the
wagon. In a moment I heard the snap of the whip, and the cries of the beast.
Other men, too, hurried back to their wagons. The heavy wagon trundled away. I
stood on the road, watching it leave, my pack in hand. Some men hurried after
it, to strike and kick at the prisoners, who were only too willing to hurry
after the wagon. They had been brigands, accumulating loot. Now, in a way, they
themselves were loot, and would bring something good, at long last, to honest
men, their captors. I continued to look after them, for a time. Yes, they were
now themselves loot, as much more commonly were women.
“Perhaps you will now permit us to proceed,†said a man.
“In a moment,†I said. I wanted the wagon to get a bit down the road. With the
slow going, and the storm, and its start, it was not likely another wagon would
catch up quickly with it.
(pg.17) “Had some of you lost goods to those fellows?†I asked.
“I have,†said a man.
“Most of a wagonload of loot,†I said, speaking in the rain, “was emptied down
there, by the ditch. Perhaps you fellows would like to see if you can reclaim
anything.â€
“The loot of Andron!†cried a man.
“Perhaps the tracks of the wagon, too, might lead to some cache, or hideaway,†I
said.
Men lifted lanterns.
“There is something down there,†said a man. Almost immediately he began to
descend the embankment. Two other men followed him. “Take the wagon ahead,†said
another man. “I will catch up with you later.†He then followed the others. I
moved to one side as the wagons, then, began to pass. “The loot or Ardon,†I
heard someone say. “Where?†asked another. “Where those men are,†said another.
Two more men left the road. The wagons continued to move by. The fellow who had
had the knife looked at me. “Is there really anything down there?†he asked.
“Yes,†I said. “Well,†said he, “perhaps I shall get something for the evening,
after all.†He slipped down the embankment, to join the others. I went then
again to the left side of the road and, when a wagon trundled by, unknown to the
driver, I put my pack in it, and, again, as I had before, held to its right side
with my left hand, to keep from falling in the road.
I thought the storm might have abated a bit but the rain was still heavy. Too,
from time to time, lightning shattered across the sky, suddenly bathing the road
and countryside in flashes of wild, white light, this coupled almost
momentarily, sometimes a little sooner
, sometimes a little later, with a
grinding and explosion of thunder.
“It seems the Priest-Kings are grinding flour,†laughed a man near me.
“It would seem so,†I said.
This was a reference to an old form of grinding, for some reason still
attributed to Priest-Kings, in which a pestle, striking down, is used with a
mortar. Most Sa-Tarna is now ground in mills, between stones, the top stone
usually turned by water power, but sometimes by a tharlarion, or slaves. In some
villages, however, something approximating the old mortar and pestle is
sometimes used, the two blocks, a pounding (pg.18) block strung to a springy,
bent pole, and the mortar block, or anvil block. The pole has one or more ropes
attached to it, near its end. When these are drawn downward the pounding block
descends into the mortar block, and the springiness of the pole, of course,
straightening, then raises it for another blow. More commonly, however, querns
are used, usually, if they are large, operated by two men, if smaller, by two
boys. Hand querns, which may be turned by a woman, are also not unknown.
The principle of the common quern is as follows: it consists primarily of a
mount, two stones, an overhead beam and a pole. The two stones are circular
grinding stones. The bottom stone has a small hub on its upper surface which
fits into an inverted concave depression in the upper stone. This helps to keep
the stones together. It also has shallow, radiating surface grooves through
which the grindings may escape between the stones, to be caught in the sturdy
boxlike mount supporting the stones, often then funneled to a waiting
receptacle, or sack. The upper stone has two holes in it, in the center a
funnel-shaped hole through which grain is poured, and, near the edge, another
hole into which one end of the turning pole is placed. This pole is normally
managed by two operators. Its upper portion is fitted into an aperture in the
overhead beam, which supplies leverage and, of course, by affording a steadying
rest, makes the pole easier to handle. The principle of the hand quern is
similar, but it is usually turned with a small wooden handle. The meal or flour
emerging from these devices is usually sifted, as it must often be reground,
sometimes several times. The sifter usually is made of hide stretched over a
wooden hoop. The holes are punched in the hide with a hot wire.
Most Goreans, incidentally, do not attribute lightning and thunder to the
grinding of flour of Priest-Kings. They regard such things as charming myths,
which they have now outgrown. Some of the lower castes, however, particularly
that of the peasants, and particularly those in outlying villages, do entertain
the possibility that such phenomena may be the signs of disunion among
Priest-Kings and their conflicts, the striking of weapons, the rumbling of their
chariots, the trampling of their tharlarion, and such. Even more sophisticated
Goreans, however, if not of the Scribes or Builders, (pg.19) have been noted to
speculate that lightning is the result of clouds clashing together in the sky,
showering sparks, and such. Few people, I suppose, see the unity of such
phenomena as lightning and the crackling in the stroked fur of a hunting sleen.
In the wagon ahead, briefly illuminated, I saw, swinging from its strap, slung
over a hook on the rear axle housing, a narrow, cylindrical, capped “grease
bucket,†the handle of the brush protruding though a hole in the cap. Such
accessories are common on Gorean wagons. The “grease†in such a container is
generally not mineral grease but a mixture of tar and tallow. Applied with a
brush it is used, as would be mineral grease, were it more commonly available,
to lubricate the moving parts of the wagon, in particular the axles, and where
the rare wagon has them, metal springs, usually of the leaf variety. Some Gorean
“coaches,†and fee carts, not many, are slung on layers of leather. This gives a
reasonably smooth ride but the swaying, until one accommodates oneself to it,
can induce nausea, in effect, seasickness. This seems to be particularly the
case with free women, who are notoriously delicate and given to imaginary
complaints.
It is interesting to not that this “delicacy,†this pretentious frailty, or what
not, and such “complaints,†usually disappear as soon as they have been
enslaved. That is probably because they are then where they belong, in their
place in nature. Too, looking up from their knees at their master they may
realize he has little patience for such things. Similarly, circumstances can
apparently make a great deal of difference. For example, it has been noted that
the same person who makes a disgusting spectacle of herself as a free person
traveling one way on a leather-slung fee cart is likely on the return journey,
if then a slave, perhaps tied in a sack, or placed hooded, and bound, hand and
foot, on the floor of such a cart, between the feet of the passengers on
opposite benches, is likely to remain orally continent, even desperately so. If
she does not, of course, she, within the sack or hood, heard the consequences of
her own actions, after which she is likely to be kicked or struck while still
inside the sack, or beaten while still in the hood, after which the sack might
be hung over the back of the fee cart or she herself bound vulnerably on her
stomach, her upper body over its rear guard (pg.20) rail. Afterwards, too, of
course, eventually, she will clean both herself and the sack, or hood,
thoroughly, before crawling back into the sack, to again become its prisoner, or
having the hood again drawn over her head and having it fastened on her. She
seldom had the same accident twice.
To be perfectly fair, however, most Goreans, and not just free women, will
prefer the simple, jolting progress of a springless wagon to the often more
rapid progress of a leather-slung fee cart. In the flash of lightning in which I
had seen the “grease bucket†on its hook I had also seen, under the same wagon,
ahead of that to which I clung, two children in a large, suspended hide. They
were peeping out, frightened. Their eyes were very large. Such hides are not
unusual under Gorean wagons. It is unusual, however, to carry children, or any
passenger, or even a slave, in them. They normally serve to carry fuel, which is
collected here and there along the route. The children were there now,
doubtless, to shelter them from the storm.
In the next flash of lightning I did not see the children any longer. They had
apparently decided to pull their heads in, I did not much blame them. I recalled
the brigands, now in the custody of the driver and his fellow, those who had
been of the wagon of “Septimus Entrates.†Perhaps that had been the driver’s
name, or the name of the owner of the original wagon, that which had fallen into
the brigand’s trap, where the stones had been removed, that which had slid into
the ditch and overturned. Its axle had been broken. I had not, as far as I could
recall, heard the name before. It was an unusual name. It suggested the sorts of
names no
t uncommon in many of the Vosk towns, however, names reflecting the
cultural mixtures of many such places, reflecting influences as diverse as those
of the island urbarates, such as Cos and Tyros, on one hand, and those of the
southern cities, such as Venna and Ar on the other.
The brigand’s loot wagon substituted for their own incapacitated vehicle the
fellows, their load transferred, had continued on their way. They had seemed
like good fellows. I recalled that the brigands, after having descended to prey
upon them, had been prepared to withdraw, hearing that the wagon carried a Home
Stone. Those with a Home Stone in their keeping are commonly formidable
adversaries. Few men (pg.21) will knowingly interfere with the progress of such
a person, let alone threaten or attack them. Warning them that he carried a Home
Stone indicated that the driver suspected their intentions. It had been that
announcement, too, which had encouraged me to enter into the matter. I wondered
if the driver had actually been carrying a Home Stone or if his assertion had
been merely a trick to discourage predation. At any rate the driver and his
fellow were now better off than they had been. they had an extra tharlarion,
three extra purses and three fellows, hurrying behind them, naked and bound,
ropes on their necks, whom they could now sell to the master of a work chain,
perhaps for as much as a silver tarsk apiece. Hopefully, if the driver and his
fellow wanted to get the brigands to such a master, they would have them hooded
by the time it grew light. If they were recognized they might be treated to
summary justice.
It had been a narrow thing a few Ehn ago, back on the road. I did not think a
little hard labor would hurt the brigands. There were one or more work chains, I
knew, in the neighborhood of Venna, to the south. She was repairing her walls. I
had heard as I had come north, that Ionicus of Cos, the master of several such
chains, was currently buying. Such chains, incidentally, are regarded as
politically neutral instruments. Thus, Venna, an ally of Ar, might employ such a
chain, even though its master was of Cos. I supposed that if the Cosians did not
mind, there was no point in Venna, who could use cheap labor, becoming exercised
about the matter either.
It is not universal, but it is quite common, incidentally, for Goreans to strip
Norman, John - Gor 23 - Renegades of Gor.txt Page 2
