by John Norman
“Oh, men!” we heard cry. “Men! Men! Please help me! Take pity on me! Help me!”
“Look, Master!” cried Alice. “There, near the shore! A white girl!”
She was slender-legged and dark-haired. She wore brief skins. She ran down to the edge of the water. Her hands were not bound together but, from each wrist, there hung a knotted rope. It was as though she had been bound and, somehow, had been freed.
“Please save me!” she cried. “Help me!”
I examined the condition of the skins she wore. I noted, also, that she wore a golden armlet and, on her neck, a necklace of claws. She also had, about her waist, a belt, with a dagger sheath, though the sheath was now empty.
“Save me, please, noble sirs!” she wept. She waded out a few feet into the water. She extended her hands to us piteously. She was quite beautiful.
I considered the forest behind her. The trees were thick, the brush, near the river, heavy.
Kisu and I dipped our paddles into the water. “Master!” cried Janice. “Surely you cannot leave her here?”
“Be silent, Slave Girl,” I said to her.
“Yes, Master,” she said. She choked back a sob. She again dipped her paddle into the water.
“Please, please help me!” we heard the girl cry.
Then we had left her behind.
“Master,” sobbed Janice.
“Be silent, Slave Girl,” I said.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Look!” cried Alice. “There is another!”
Now, on the shore, standing at a post, chains about her body, we saw a blond girl. “Please help me!” she cried, straining against the chains. She, like the first, was dressed in brief skins and, like the first, was ornamented, with an armlet and necklace. Too, about her left ankle, there was a golden bangle.
We removed the paddles from the water.
“A beautiful wench,” said Kisu.
“Yes,” I said.
“Please help me!” cried the girl, straining against the chains. “Save me! Save me! Take pity on me! I have been left here to die! Take pity on me! Save me! Please, save me!”
“Have mercy on her, Master, please,” begged Janice. “You cannot simply leave her here to die.”
“I think we have lingered here long enough,” said Kisu, looking about. “This is a dangerous place.”
“Agreed,” I said.
“Do not leave without her, please, noble masters,” begged Janice. “Please, Master,” begged Alice. “Please, Master,” begged Tende.
“What little fools you all are,” said Kisu. “Can you not see that it is a trap?”
“Master?” asked Tende.
Kisu threw back his head and laughed.
“Master?” asked Janice.
“They speak Gorean,” I pointed out. “Thus they are not originally of the jungle. The color of their skins alone, white, should make that clear to you. Consider the first girl. The lengths of rope dangling from her wrists seemed rather long for any usual form of binding. Eighteen inches of rope is quite sufficient for tying a girl’s hands either before her body or behind. Too, it is common to loop a wrist binding, and use a single knot, rather than tie each wrist separately.”
“Perhaps she was tied about a tree,” said Janice.
“Perhaps,” I said. “But, too, the rope was cut, not frayed. How would it have been cut?’
“I do not know, Master,” she said.
“Consider also,” I said, “that she retained her belt and dagger sheath. A normal captor would surely have discarded these. What need has a captured woman for such accouterments?”
“I do not know, Master,” she said.
“Too,” I said, “she, like the girl at the post, there on the shore, wore clothing and ornaments. One of the first things a captor commonly does with a woman is to take away her clothing. She is not to be permitted to conceal weapons. Also, it helps her to understand that she is a captive. Also, of course, a captor commonly wishes to look upon the beauty of his capture. This pleases him. Also, of course, he may wish to form a conjecture as to its market value or the amount of pleasure he will force it to yield to him. At the very least it seems reasonable that her ornaments, and in particular those of gold, would be removed from her. One does not expect to find rich ornaments of gold on the body of a captured woman. Surely such things belong rather in the loot sank of her captor. She might, of course, wear them later, as her master’s property, he using them then to decorate his slave. Consider, too, the nature and condition of their garments. The garments are not ripped or torn. They show no signs of a struggle or of the abuse of their owner. Too, they are skins, of the sort which might be worn by free women, huntresses, not rep-cloth or bark cloth, not rags, of the sort which might be worn by slaves.”
“Their bodies, too,” said Kisu, “showed no signs of lashings or bruises. Presumably, then, they were not fresh captures.”
I nodded. Sometimes a free woman must be taught that she is now subject to discipline. Some women refuse to believe it until the whip is on them.
“Other clues, too,” I said, “suggest that they are not what they seem. Consider the girl at the post. Her hands are not fastened over her head, which would lift and accentuate the beauty of her breasts. You must understand that a post is often used to display a girl, not merely to secure her. As it is, we do not even know if her hands are truly fastened behind her or not. We simply cannot see. Too, captors in the forests, natives of these jungles, would not be likely to have chains to secure their captures.”
“Please help me!” called the girl, plaintively.
“How long have you been at the post?” I called to her.
“For two days,” she wept. ‘Take pity on me! Help me, please!”
“Have you any doubt now?” I asked. “Consider her condition. It is prime. Does she truly seem to have been at the post for two days?”
“No, Master,” said Janice.
“Too,” I said, “had she been at the post overnight is it not likely that tharlarion would have discovered her and eaten her from the chains?”
“Yes, Master,” said Janice.
“I am, too, made uncomfortable by the thickness of the brush and trees in these areas, both before and now. They seem fit to conceal the numbers of an ambuscade.”
“Perhaps we should hurry on,” said Tende, looking about.
“Take up your paddles,” said Kisu. “Continue on.”
“Please, stop!” begged the girl in chains. “Do not leave a poor woman here to die!”
“But can we truly leave her?” asked Janice.
“Yes,” said Kisu.
“Yes,” I said.
Janice moaned.
“Paddle,” I told her.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
As our canoe moved away we looked back. “After them!” cried the girl. She slipped from her chains and bent to the grass beside her, seizing up a light spear. From the, brush about her appeared numbers of girls similarly. clad and armed. We saw canoes being thrust into the water.
“Perhaps now you will paddle with a better will,” I said.
“Yes, Master!” said Janice.
There were now some eight canoes behind us. In each canoe there were five or six girls. In the prow of the first canoe was the blond girl who had seemed to be chained at the post. In the prow of the second was the slender-legged, dark-haired girl whom we had seen earlier. She still had the dangling ropes knotted on her wrists.
“Will they overtake us?” cried Alice.
“It is unlikely,” I said. “In no canoe there are there more than six paddlers. In this canoe, too, there are six paddlers, and three of these are men.”
In less than a quarter of an Ahn we had considerably lengthened our lead on our pursuers;
“Do you not recall, Janice,” I asked, “in one of the villages long ago, one of the men inquired if you were a taluna?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Those behind us,” I said, “
are talunas.”
In half an Ahn the canoes of the pursuers had fallen far back. In a few Ehn more they ceased the pursuit.
“I am exhausted, Master,” said Alice.
Janice and Tende, too, could no longer keep the stroke. They gasped for breath. They could scarcely lift their arms. “The paddle is like iron in my grasp,” said Janice. Tende sobbed. “Forgive me, Master,” she begged Kisu. Her paddle struck the side of the canoe. She almost lost it in the water. Then she put her head down, gasping. “Forgive me, Master,” she begged.
“Rest,” said Kisu to her.
“Rest,” I said to Janice and Alice.
The girls, then, sick with the misery of their labor, placed their paddles in the canoe. Alice and Janice threw up into the water. Then, trembling and gasping, the girls lay down in the canoe.
Ayari, Kisu and I continued to paddle.
44. The Small Men; Our Camp Has Been Attacked
“Join me!” she laughed, splashing in the water.
It was a lagoon, opening off the river, some hundred yards away. I stood on the shore, with one of the raider’s spears in my hand. There seemed no tharlarion or danger about, but it would not hurt to maintain a vigilance in such a respect.
She was very lovely, bathing in the water.
We were not now with the main group. We had separated off, as we did upon occasion, to hunt. Also, it is sometimes pleasant, you must understand, to be alone with a delightful slave.
“Clean yourself well, Slave,” I called to her, “that you may be more pleasing to my senses.”
“Yes, Master,” she laughed. “What of you?” she called.
“It is you who are the slave,” I told her.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
I thought I heard a rustling in the forest behind me. It did not sound like the passage of a man or animal. It seemed more like a wind, moving among leaves. Yet there seemed to be no wind.
I turned and walked a few yards into the forest. I did not now hear the sound. It had been caused, I assumed, by an unusual current of air.
Suddenly the girl, from the lagoon, uttered a scream. Immediately I spun about and ran to the edge of the trees.
“Come to shore!” I called to her.
At the far end of the lagoon, where its channel leads to the river, I saw what had alarmed the girl. It was a large fish. Its glistening back and dorsal fin were half out of the water, where it slithered over the sill of the channel and into the lagoon.
“Come to shore!” I said. “Hurry!”
I saw the large fish, one of the bulging-eyed fish we had seen earlier, a gigantic gint, or like a gigantic gint, it now having slipped over the channel’s sill, disappear under the water.
“Hurry!” I called to her.
Wildly she was splashing toward the shore. She looked back once. She screamed again. Its four-spined dorsal fin could be seen now, the fish skimming beneath the water, cutting rapidly towards her.
“Hurry!” I called.
Sobbing, gasping, she plunged splashing through the shallow water and clambered onto the mud and grass of the bank.
“How horrible it was!” she cried.
Then she screamed wildly. The fish, on its stout, fleshy pectoral fins, was following her out of the water. She turned about and fled screaming into the jungle. With the butt of the spear I pushed against its snout. The bulging eyes regarded me. The large mouth now gulped air. It then, clumsily, climbed onto the bank. I stepped back and it, on its pectoral fins, and lifting itself, too, by its heavy tail, clambered out of the water and approached me. I pushed against its snout again with the butt of the spear. It snapped at the spear. Its bulging eyes regarded me. I stepped back. It lunged forward, snapping. I fended it away. I then retreated backward, into the trees. It followed me to the line of trees, and then stopped. I did not think it would wish to go too far from the water. After a moment or so it began to back away. Then, tail first, it slid back into the water of the lagoon. I went to the water’s edge. There I saw it beneath the surface, its gills opening and closing. Then it turned about and, with a slow movement of its tail, moved away. Ayari and Kisu referred to such fish as gints. I accepted their judgment on the matter. They are not to be confused, however, that is certain, with their tiny brethren of the west.
“Help me!” I heard, it was the voice of Janice. I moved rapidly toward the sound of her voice. Some fifty yards into the jungle I stopped. There, ringing a depression, were more than a dozen small men. They wore loincloths with vine belts. From loops on the belts hung knives and small implements. They carried spears and nets. I do not think any of them were more than five feet in height. I doubt that any of them weighed more than eighty pounds. Their features were negroid but their skins were more coppery than dark brown or black. They did not seem to be one of the black races, which are usually tall, long-limbed and supple, but their racial affinities seemed clearly to be more aligned with one or more of those groups than any others.
“Help me!” I heard Janice cry.
I looked at the small men. They did not seem threatening. “Tal,” said one of them.
“Tal,” I said. “You speak Gorean.”
“Master,” cried Janice.
I went to the edge of the depression. There, a few feet below me, suspended in a gigantic web, was Janice. One of her legs was through the web, and an arm. It was not simply the adhesiveness of the web’s strands which prevented her from freeing herself but, also, its swaying and elasticity, sinking beneath her as she tried to press against it.
I looked at the small men. They seemed friendly enough. Yet none of them made any move to help Janice.
“Master!” screamed Janice.
I looked down. The web was now trembling. Approaching her now, moving swiftly across the web, was a gigantic rock spider. It was globular, hairy, brown and black, some eight feet in thickness. It had pearly eyes and black, side-hinged jaws.
Janice threw back her head and screamed with misery. I slid down the side of the depression to the edge of the net. I drew back the spear I carried. I flung it head-on into the spider. It penetrated its body and slid almost through. It reached up with its two forelegs and drew it out. It then turned toward me. As soon as it had turned in my direction, away from the girl, the small men, howling and shrieking, began to hurl their small spears into its body. It stood puzzled on the web. I scrambled about the side of the depression, slipping once, and retrieved the spear. It was wet with the viscous body fluids of the arachnid. It turned again and I, slashing with the spear blade, cut loose a jointed segment of its leg. It charged and I thrust the spear blade into its face. Some of the small men then hurried about the depression striking at the beast with palm leaves, distracting it, infuriating it. As it turned toward them I cut another segment of one of its rear legs from it. It then, unsteadily, again moved toward me. I slipped to the side and cut at the juncture of its cephalo-thorax and abdomen. It began to exude fluid. It retreated sideways from me. It turned erratically. The side-hinged jaws opened and shut. A strand of webbing from one of its abdominal glands began to emerge meaninglessly. I then, as it dragged itself backward on the web, cut away at its head. the small men then flooded past me, clambering on the web itself, and began to crawl upon the beast with their knives, cutting it to pieces. I went then to the height of the depression, the spear in hand, the fluids of the beast drying upon it. Janice lay naked, trembling, in the web. The great arachnid now lay on its back, the small men swarming over it. Some stood to their knees in its body. I cleaned the shaft and blade of the spear with moist leaves. When I returned the small men had rolled the carcass of the beast to one side. It reposed there, gigantic and globular, in the fashion of the rock spider, its legs tucked beneath it. The small men then stood again about the upper edge of the depression. “Tal,” said their leader to me, grinning. “Tal,” I said to him.
“Master,” called Janice. “I cannot free myself.”
I looked down at her. She was tangled and could get no foot
ing.
I made as though to hold down to her, that she might grasp it, the shaft of the raider’s spear.
Immediately the small men rushed to me, shaking their heads. They tried to pull me away. “No,” said their leader. “No, no!”
I was puzzled. The small men, I recalled, had originally stood about the upper edge of the depression, impassively observing Janice’s predicament. They had made not the least effort to help her, even when the eight-legged monster had emerged to claim her as his trapped quarry. Yet when I had fought the monster, and when he had turned upon me, they had sprung vigorously to my aid. They had hurled their spears into the beast and had, helping me, distracted it in its ferocities. Then they had rushed past me and, with their knives, had boldly finished the creature. But now it seemed they, though obviously disposed to be friendly towards me, did not wish to free Janice, the slave. They wished me, for some reason, to leave her there, helpless, unable to free herself, lying there at the mercy of the jungle, surely either to starve or thirst to death,. or, more likely, to fall victim to some new predator.
I brushed the small men back. “Get back,” I told them. They moved back. They were not pleased but, too, it did not seem they would try to stop me. I extended the shaft of the spear to Janice and she, seizing it with one hand, her free hand, was drawn upward, out of the net, to the safety of the jungle floor.
Then, to my surprise, when she stood safe, trembling beside me, the small men crowded about her and knelt down, putting their heads to the ground.
“What does it mean?” she asked.
“They are showing you respect or obeisance,” I said.
“I do not understand,” she said, frightened.
“Of course!” I said. “Now it is clear!”
“What?” she asked, frightened.
“Stand! Stand!” I told the small men. “Get up! Get up!”
Terrified, the small men rose to their feet.
