Norman, John - Gor 19 - Kajira of Gor.txt

Norman, John - Gor 19 - Kajira of Gor.txt Page 44

by Kajira of Gor [lit]

  smiles, the curvaceous interests of a woman to sway his judgment?”

  “No,” said Drusus Rencius. -

  “I think you have succumbed to the charms of a slave,” said Miles.

  “No!” said Drusus Rencius.

  “She has made you weak,” said Miles.

  “No!” said Drusus Rencius.

  I looked at Drusus Rencius. I was only a naked slave, and In chains, How could I

  make such a man weak?

  “The evidence is clear,” said Miles of Argentum to the Ubar, Claudius, to the

  members of the high council, to the others in the room. “I rest my case.” He

  then pointed to me. “Behold she who was the Tatrix of Corcyrus!”

  There was much applause in the room. Drusus Rencius turned angrily away. He

  stood to one side, his fists clenched.

  “That is not the one whom the sleen selected,” said Hassan.

  Drusus Rencius spun about. “True!” he said.

  “May I speak?” inquired Ligurious.

  “Speak,” said Claudius

  “I anticipated some difficulty in the matter of the sleen,” he said. “First of

  all, we must understand that the sleen are merely following a scent. They

  recognize a scent, of course, but not know, in a formal or legal sense, whose

  scent they are following. For example, a sleen can certainly recognize the scent

  of its master but it, being an animal, does not know, of course, whether its

  master is, say, a peasant or a Ubar. Indeed, many sleen, whereas they will

  respond to their own names, do not even know the names of their masters. I am

  sure the type of point I am making is well understood. Accordingly, let us

  suppose we now wish a sleen to locate someone, say, a Tatrix. We do not tell the

  sleen to look for a Tatrix. We give the sleen something which, supposedly, bears

  the scent of the Tatrix, and then the sleen follows that scent, no differently

  than it might the scent of a wild tarsk or a yellow-pelted tabuk. The crucial

  matter then is whether the sleen is set upon the proper scent or not. Now

  fifteen hundred gold pieces is a great deal of money. Can we not imagine the

  possibility, where so much money is at stake, that a woman closely resembling

  the Tatrix, as this woman, for example, might be selected as a quarry in a

  fraudulent hunt. It would not be difficult then, in one fashion or another, to

  set sleen upon her trail. A scrap of clothing would do, a bit of bedding, even

  the scent of a footprint. The innocent woman is then captured and, later,

  presented in a place such as this, the reward then being claimed.”

  Claudius, the Ubar of Argentum, turned to Hassan. “Your integrity as a hunter

  has been impugned,” he said.

  All eyes were upon Hassan.

  “I am not touchy on such matters,” said Hassan. “I am not a warrior. I am a

  businessman. I recognize the right of Claudius and the high council to

  assurances in these matters. Indeed, it is their duty, in so far as they can, to

  protect Argentum against deception and fraud. Much of what Ligurious, the former

  first minister of Corcyrus, has told you is true, for example, about sleen, and

  their limitations and utilities. These are, even, well-known facts. The crucial

  matter, then, would seem to be the authenticity of the articles used to provide

  the original scent. When I was in Corcyrus and I received from Menicius, her

  Administrator, clothing which had been worn by the Tatrix, I divided it into two

  bundles and had each sealed with the seal of Corcyrus. A letter to this effect,

  signed by Menicius, and bearing, too, the seal of Corcyrus, I also obtained. One

  of these bundles I broke open in Ar, and used it to locate and capture the

  former Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

  “She whom you claim is the former Tatrix,” said Ligurious.

  “Yes,” said Hassan.

  “Do you still have the second bundle, unopened, and the letter from Menicius,

  Administrator of Corcyrus, in your possession?” asked Claudius of Hassan.

  “I anticipated these matters might be sensitive,” said Hassan. “Yes.”

  Hassan was truly a professional hunter. I had heard the name ‘Menicius’

  somewhere before, but I could not place it.

  He, whoever he might be, was now apparently Administrator in Corcyrus.

  Claudius regarded Hassan.

  “I will fetch them,” said Hassan, rising to his feet.

  “I, too, have clothing from Corcyrus,” said Ligurious, “but it is authentic

  clothing, clothing actually once worn by the true Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

  “Please be so kind as to produce it in evidence,” said Claudius.

  “I will be back shortly,” said Ligurious.

  “Bring guard sleen and meat,” said Claudius to one of the guards in the room.

  In a few Ehn Hassan and Ligurius bad returned. Too, but moments later, two

  sleen, with keepers’, had entered the’ hall. The feast slaves and dancers shrank

  back against the walls. Such beasts are used to hunt slaves.

  I, too, shrank back, fearfully, in my chains. I, too, was a slave.

  “As you will note,” said Hassan to Claudius and the high council, “the seal on

  this bundle has not been broken. Here, too, is the letter from Menicius.”

  The letter was examined. Claudius himself then broke the seal on the bundle and

  handed clothing to one of the sleen keepers. One soldier came and crouched down

  behind me, holding me from the back by the upper arms. Another so served Sheila,

  to my left. We were not to be permitted to move from our places. I saw one of

  the keepers holding the clothing beneath the snout of one of the sinuous,

  sixlegged beasts. The specific signals between masters and sleen, signals which,

  in effect, convey such commands as “Attack,” “Hunt,” “Stop,” ‘Back,” and so on,

  are usually verbal and private. Verbality is important as many times the sleen,

  intent upon a scent, for exaniple, will not be looking at the master. The

  privacy of ~he signals is important to guarantee that not just anyone can start

  a sleen on a hunt or call one away from it. The signals to which they respond,

  then, are idiosyncratic to the given beast. They are generally not unique;

  however, to a given man and beast. For example, in an area where there are

  several sleen and several keepers, the keepers are likely to know the signals

  specific to the given beasts. In his fashion any beast may be controlled by any

  of the associated trainers or keepers. These signals, too, are usually kept

  written down somewhere. In this fashion, if a keeper should be slain, or change

  the locus. of his employment, or something along those lines, the beast need not

  be killed.

  Suddenly the beast, on its chain leash, leapt towards us Sheila and I screamed,

  pulling back. I actually felt the body of the beast, its oily fur, the muscles

  and ribs beneath it, brush me, lunging past me. Sheila tried to scramble back,

  wild in her chains, but, held, could not do so. She threw her head back, her

  eyes closed, sobbing and screaming, begging the masters for mercy. The frenzied

  sleen tried to reach She
ila Its claws scratched and slipped on the tiles. It

  snapped and bit at her, its eyes blazing, its fangs, long, wild, white, moist,

  curved, gleaming, were but inches from her enslaved beauty.

  A word was spoken. The sleen drew back. It was thrown meat. Sheila, her eyes

  glazed, hair before her face, looked numbly at the animal. She was still held by

  the soldier. Had she not been I think she might have slumped to the tiles How

  helpless we are, naked and in our chains, before masters. How they can do with

  us whatever they wish!

  “The clothing with which the sleen was put on the scent of the woman on our

  right could have been imbued with her scent at any time, of course,” said

  Ligurious. “For example, it could have been put in the sack with her for a

  night, when she was being brought to Argentum. I have here, however and I now

  break the seal, clothing which is actually that of the former Tatrix of

  Corcyrus. See? Already she cringes and shrinks back. She knows that by this

  clothing she will be exactly and incontrovertibly identified as the former true

  Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

  I watched in horror as Ligurious tossed the clothing, piece by piece, to one of

  the sleen keepers.

  One of the pieces was the brief, sashed, yellow-silk robe I had been fond of. It

  was the first garment I had ever worn on Gor.

  “That one garment,” said Miles of Argentum, indicating a scarlet robe, with a

  yellow, braided belt, “appears to be that in which she put her curves on the day

  of my audience with her, that having to do with the scrolls of protest.”

  “It is,” Ligurious assured him.

  I also saw there garments which looked like those I had worn to the song drama

  with Drusus Rencius, and had worn later with him on the walls of Corcyrus.

  “Surely you recognize that garment?” asked Ligurious, indicating a purple robe

  with golden trim, and a golden belt. “Yes,” said Miles of Argentum. “That’ is

  the garment she wore when she was captured.”

  “By you,” said Ligurious.

  “Yes, by me,” said Miles.

  “But she did not wear it long, did she?” asked Ligurious. “No,” he grinned.

  There was laughter from the tables.

  I did not doubt but what these garments were genuine. The last garment, for

  example, was undoubtedly really that which had been taken from me in the throne

  room of Corcyrus, before the very throne itself, before I had been taken naked

  and In chains outside, into the courtyard, to be placed in a golden cage. These

  garments, Ligurious had informed me in the throne room of Argentum, before

  placing me in the golden sack, from which I had been rescued by Drusus Rencius,

  had been smuggled out of Corcyrus. He had probably paid much to obtain them.

  The last pieces were all items of intimate feminine apparel, which had been worn

  next to my body.

  I was embarrassed to see them. Now that I was a slave, of course, I would have

  been grateful to have even so much to wear publicly. But when I had worn them

  they had been the garments of a free woman. Thus, when I saw them now it was as

  one who had once been a free woman that I was embarrassed. Few free women care

  to have their intimate garments exhibited publicly before men.

  I then saw the sleen, a different sleen, thrust its snout deeply into the pile

  of garments. I could hear it snuffling about in them. I saw the keeper, too,

  take the intimate garments, wadded in his hand, and thrust them beneath the

  animal’s snout. He then held one of the longer, sliplike garments open from the

  bottom, and, to my horror, I saw the beast, sniffing and growling, thrust its

  snout deeply into the garment. My scent, from my intimacies, would doubtless be

  strongest in such a place.

  I shrank back, even further. The hands of the soldier be-hind me, on my arms,

  forbade me further retreat.

  In a moment the sleen leaped forward. I closed my eyes and screamed. ‘I felt the

  hot breath of the animal on my breasts. I seemed surrounded by its snarling. I

  heard the scratching and slipping of its claws on the tiles, the rattle and

  tightening, and rattle and tightening, again, of the links of the chain leash,

  in its lunges toward me. I sensed its force, its terribleness, its eagerness. I

  heard the snapping of its jaws. Could the keeper judge the distances unerringly?

  Could he hold the animal?

  What if the chain broke? I opened my eyes. In that instant the beast was again

  lunging toward me. In that instant, in a flash, I saw the cavernous maw, the

  fangs, the long, dark tongue, the blazing eyes, the intentness, the

  single-mindedness, the power, the eagerness of the beast. I threw back my head

  and screamed miserably. “Pity!” I begged. “I beg mercy, my masters!” I cried, a

  terrified slave, addressing them all, in my terror, as though they might be my

  legal masters.

  Then the sleen, with a word, was withdrawn, and thrown meat. I trembled. Were it

  not for the hands of the soldier behind me, on my arms, I might have collapsed.

  I saw Drusus Rencius looking at me with scorn. I did not care. I was not a

  warrior. I was a girl, and a slave.

  “Thus, you see,” said Ligurious, “who was the true Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

  “Each woman, it would seem,” said Claudius, “has been identified as such, one in

  virtue of the articles of Hassan and one in virtue of the articles with which

  you have furnished us.”

  “Examine the seals,” said Ligurious, triumphantly. “See which bears the true

  seal of Corcyrus!”

  The broken seals were brought to Claudius. He put them on the table before him.

  Members of the high council crowded about him.

  “The seal broken from the package of Ligurious,” he said, “is the seal of

  Corcyrus.”

  “That cannot be,” said Hassan.

  “Perhaps you will be given two Ahn in which to leave Argentum,” said Ligurious.

  “I have the letter from Menicius!” said Hassan.

  “It, too, doubtless, will bear the same seal as was on the package,” said

  Ligurious.

  “Yes,” said Hassan.

  “I, too, have such a letter, but a genuine one,” said Ligurious, “describing and

  authenticating the garments I have produced for you. That letter bears the

  signature of Menicius and is marked with the true seal of Corcyrus.” He reached

  within his robes and produced a letter, wrapped with a ribbon, the ribbon and

  the flaps of the letter secured with a melted disk of wax, this wax bearing the

  imprint of a seal.

  The seal was examined.

  “It is the seal of. Corcyrus,” said Claudius.

  The letter was opened and examined.

  “The descriptions tally with the garments brought to us by Ligurious,” said one

  of the members of the high council.

  “Who has signed the letter?” inquired Ligurious.

  “Menicius,” said one of the members of the high council, looking up.

  “I think not,” said a voice.

  All eyes turned to
the back of the room. There, the guest who had been hooded

  rose to his feet.

  “Who would dare to gainsay me in this?” inquired Ligurious.

  With two hands the guest brushed back his hood.

  “I think that I am known to several in this room,” he said. “Some of you were

  present at my investiture as Administrator of Corcyrus.”

  “Menicius!” cried more than one man.

  Ligurious staggered backwards.

  “My dear Ligurious,” said Menicius, “your confederate in Corcyrus is now in

  custody. He has confessed all. I deemed, accordingly, it might be of interest to

  venture incognito to Argentum. I did so with the papers of a minor envoy,

  bearing my own signature.”

  How startled I was! I now recognized, and clearly, the hitherto unknown guest. I

  had known him as Menicius, of the Metal Workers. He was the man whose life I had

  spared when he had spoken out so forcibly against the Tatrix, on that day, so

  long ago, when I had been in the palanquin with Ligurious, that day in which, in

  the glory of a state procession, we had been carried through the streets of

  Corcyrus Doubtless Drusus Rencius, who had prevented him from reaching the

  palanquin, remembered him well, for his courage and his opposition to the rule

  of the Tatrix.

  “I was interested to hear that you were the leader of the opposition to the rule

  of the Tatrix,” said Menicius to Ligurious. “I, myself, had thought that that

  honor was mine.” Ligurious looked about himself. He took one or two steps

  backward.

  “I suggest that that man be put in shackles,” said Menicius. “Do it,” said

  Claudius. Two guardsmen moved swiftly to Ligurious. In a moment his wrists had

  been shackled behind him.

  “The seals,” said Menicius, “on the package and letter of tile Hassan were

  genuine. It is natural, however, that they were unfamiliar to you. They are

  imprints of the new seal of Corcyrus. It was discovered, after the institution

  of the new regime in Corcyrus, that the old seal was missing. Presumably it had

  been taken by Ligurious in his flight from the city That now seems evident. For

  this reason, and also to commemorate the rise of a new order in Corcyrus, it was

  changed.”

 

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