Beasts of Gor

by John Norman

  "Now lick and kiss the chain, Slave," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she whispered.

  She bent her head to the chain and, delicately, sobbing with emotion, licked and kissed at the metal. Her tears fell among the links.

  I locked the sirik on Audrey. She looked at me, desperately.

  "Later," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Go to the sled, Slave," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  They, still in sirik, would be fastened in fur sacks and tied on sleds. Later, after the first ice camp had been constructed, they would be freed from sirik, and used in the huts. Later, given garments, they would trek, in neck coffle, beside the sleds.

  I took the chains from Arlene, pulling them from her, and, with five snaps, locked them roughly on her body.

  I smelled the womanhood of her. She looked at me. "Later," I said. "Go to the sled, Slave."

  "Yes, Master," she said, moaning.

  Men about me were enacting similar ceremonies of enslavement with other embonded wenches. Ram, I saw, took none. He was satisfied with lovely Tina, who had been the Lady Tina of Lydius. Drusus, I saw, had put a pair of beauties in sirik. He sent them to the sled on which he had been allotted space for his belongings, including two slave girls.

  I threw another sirik to the floor before me.

  Barbara, the blond Earth girl, knelt before me. "I am a slave," she said. "I beg your chains."

  "Pick them up," I said.

  She did so, and kissed them.

  I locked them on her.

  "Go to the sled," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  I threw another sirik to the floor before me.

  Constance, the Gorean slave, blond and lovely, knelt before me. "I am a slave," she said. "I beg your chains."

  "Pick them up," I said.

  She did so, and kissed them.

  I locked them on her.

  "Go to the sled," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  I threw the fifth of the six sets of chains which I held on my shoulder to the floor.

  Belinda, whom I had used in the corridor, hurried to me, kneeling before me.

  She was joyful. I would permit her, at least for the time, at my feet.

  Soon, in sirik, she made her way toward my sled.

  I threw the last sirik to the tiles before me.

  The graceful and aristocratic girl, she who had been the Lady Rosa, came and knelt before me. "I am a slave," she said. "I beg your chains."

  "Pick them up," I said.

  She did so, and, looking at me, pressed them to her lips. Then she put her head down and, delicately, licked and kissed them.

  I locked the collar on her neck, and the two wrist rings, one after the other, on her small wrists. I then took the chain between her legs and, crouching behind her, snapped the two ankle rings shut on her fair ankles. I then stood up and stood before her. I looked down at her, my hands on my hips. "Whose slave are you?" I asked. "Yours, Master," she said. "Go to the sled, Slave," I said. "Yes, Master," she said.

  "We must hurry," said Imnak. "In two Ahn this place will be no more."

  Outside the room which had been used for slave selection by the victors, I took a dart-firing weapon from one of the red hunters.

  "Where are you going?" asked Imnak.

  "To the chamber of Zarendargar," I said. I slipped one of the darts into the weapon's breech, and let the bolt spring shut.

  "Why?" he asked.

  I shrugged. "In the disruption consequent upon this place's destruction," I said, "his death would be hideous."

  I went to the chamber of Zarendargar, the weapon in hand. Imnak followed.

  At the chamber of Zarendargar I pressed open the portal with my foot and lifted the weapon, to fire at the figure which would be recumbent upon the blood-soaked, furred dais.

  I was startled. I leaped into the room. Weapon in hand I scanned the room, the walls, the high poles threaded over my head.

  I shook.

  Zarendargar was gone.

  "I will have the rooms and halls searched!" cried Imnak. He hurried away, out of the room.

  I walked slowly to the stained, furred dais. I had placed on it a glass of paga before I had left the room. I saw, against a steel wall, the shattered remnants of such a glass. But on the dais there was another glass, it, too, filled with paga.

  I laughed loudly.

  I bent and picked up the second glass. I lifted it to the empty room, in both a toast and a salute.

  Then I downed the paga. Then I threw the glass against the steel wall, where it shattered, and fell, its fragments showering downward, mingling with those of the other glass.

  I turned about and left the room. Outside Imnak was trying to organize a search of the complex.

  "There is no time," I said.

  "But the beast," he said.

  "There is no time," I said. "We must make away."

  "Yes," said he, "Tarl, who hunts with me." He hurried away, calling to the red hunters.

  The snow sleen were already harnessed.

  I paused there, alone, at the portal of the chamber of Zarendargar, Half-Ear, war general of the Kurii. I looked within, once, at the blood-stained dais, and the steel wall, at the foot of which, mingled, lay the fragments of two glasses.

  Then quickly I turned about and strode from the area. The trek must be initiated.

  37

  We Have Left the Complex;

  We Will Make Our Way Toward the Permanent Camp

  "Look!" cried Imnak.

  I turned the sled about. Others, too, turned about, the long sleds, like clouds, on the bleak ice.

  Many of those with us cried out in wonder and alarm.

  Behind us, in the winter sky, looming, streaming hundreds of pasangs upward into the sky, shimmering and flickering, extended vast, subtle curtains of chromatic lights, yellows, and pinks and reds.

  "It is not the season," said a hunter.

  Then men cried out with awe. Some women screamed. Children hid their faces.

  For an instant, in that lofty, panoramic display, there had appeared, only for an instant, etched in light, the gigantic head of a Kur. One ear, the left, had been half torn from its head. The lips drew back, exhibiting the Kur's fearful sign of pleasure. Then the fearsome head was gone.

  We then saw, I, and the others, and the People, on the pack ice more than an Ahn's trek from the complex, a blast of light which, in the darkness of the polar night, made us cry out with pain, half blinded.

  For a terrible instant it had seemed as bright as day, with a brightness that most of the People, in their northern regions, had never known, a brightness that might have struck the white sands of the blazing Tahari or the green jungles of the rain forests of the eastern Cartius.

  Then the lights in the sky were gone and the polar night had returned, save for a long, shimmering volume of yellowish smoke that reared from the distant ice.

  "Lie down!" I cried to those standing about me. "Behind the sleds!"

  The shock wave of the blast, in some seconds, struck us. It drove ice and pelting, granular snow before it. It tore at our furs. I held the sled, bracing it against the blast. Arlene cried out with terror as the sled twisted and half-tipped. She, like others of her kind, women, slaves, and slaves to be, was absolutely helpless. She was confined in two fur sacks, one placed within the other, the layer of warm air between them acting as insulation. She could not escape from the two sacks, and they were tied on the sled. Within the sacks she was naked, and in sirik. There was no danger that women such as she would escape on the ice. The sleen harnessed to the sled squealed with fury, scratching, thrown from its feet, twisted and tangled in the traces. We were in the blast of air for only some seven seconds. And then it passed as quickly as it had come.

  I cuffed the sleen on its snout and, holding it by the harness, jerked it up, disentangling it from the traces. A single sleen is kept in two traces, or a double tr
ace. When more than one sleen, or girl, pulls the sled, they are commonly kept on a single trace. This conserves leather and diminishes the amount of tangling that might otherwise occur.

  I turned the sled back to face where the complex had been. I stood on the rear runners, lifting myself for a better look. Arlene struggled, as she could, to see. My other girls, Audrey, Barbara, Constance, Belinda, and the girl who had once been the Lady Rosa, were tied on the sleds of other hunters. Arlene had been quite proud that she had been the one I had chosen to bind on my own sled. Too, she was the first one, of all the loot girls, on whom I had locked my chains. After the first camp we would remove the girls from sirik and use them; when we set out again they would be furred, and in neck coffle. Sometimes I thought I might let Audrey lead the coffle, and sometimes Arlene. I would enjoy playing the two Earth girls off against one another, each one striving more desperately, more helplessly, to please me than the other.

  I smiled.

  Women with deep feminine needs are mercilessly exploited by Gorean men.

  It was a pleasant game. They are so helpless.

  And yet how lovely they are. One must strive to remain strong with them.

  I touched the side of Arlene's head with my mitten. Her head was within two hoods, parts of the fur sacks, tied on the sled, within which she lay chained.

  She turned her head to look up at me, and smiled.

  "Do you want to be respected?" I asked.

  "You will never respect me," she laughed. "I am a slave."

  "Do you want to be respected?" I asked.

  "No man respects a woman who knows what else to do with her," she said.

  "It is a Gorean saying," I said.

  "I know," she said.

  "You are an insolent wench," I said. "Perhaps I should whip you."

  "I know that you will whip me, if you wish to do so," she said. "And that thrills me. Also, it makes me determined to try to please you, completely, and totally, so that you will not wish to do so."

  "Good," I said. I looked at her. "Would you like to be returned to Earth?" I asked.

  "Master jests, I trust," she said.

  "Of course," I said, "for you are a luscious slave, fit for chains and markets."

  "No," she said, "I would not like to be returned to Earth. I have never been so sensuously alive as here, at the mercy of men. I pity even the free women of this world, who cannot know the joys and loves of the female slave. I do not wish to return to Earth, to adopt again the role of pretending to be a man. What has Earth to offer that is worth more than joy and happiness?"

  "I may sell you," I said.

  "You may do so if you wish, Master," she said, "for I am only a slave. If you do sell me, I shall hope that I will please another."

  "You speak scarcely like an Earth girl," I said.

  "I am no longer an Earth girl," she said. "I am a Gorean slave girl."

  "True," I said.

  She snuggled down in the furs. I saw the furred sacks, in which she was confined, move under the ropes which bound them on the sled. I heard the small sound of the chain from within the furred sacks.

  "You have not answered my question," I said.

  "What question?" she asked.

  "Do you want to be respected?" I asked.

  "No," she said. She smiled up at me. "I want to be loved, and treasured. I want to be mastered."

  I laughed.

  "I want to be a woman," she said.

  "Do not fear, lovely slave girl," I said. "This is not Earth. This is Gor. On Gor you, in bondage, will be given no alternative other than to fulfill the deepest and most profound needs of your sex."

  "Yes, Master. Yes, Master," she said.

  Red hunters were turning their sleds about. "Look!" said Imnak. I saw that the sleen was lifting its paws, water dripping from them.

  "It is only hot air," I said, "hugging the ice, low, from the destruction of the complex."

  "No," said Imnak, "there!"

  He pointed far off. There, steam roiled upward from the water.

  I saw piles of layered pack ice slipping into the water.

  "See the ice," he said. "The water is boiling!"

  Suddenly, near us, a lead, a great crack in the ice, broke open.

  I looked back to the complex. Smoke billowed upward. In the upper atmosphere, it had now spread out, broadly, like an umbrella opened in the thin air. The mushroom-shaped cloud was disconcertingly familiar. A nuclear device, or a nuclear-type device, it seemed, had been involved in the destruction of the complex.

  I watched the great mountain of ice, which had been the sheathing of the complex, slip downward into the sea.

  "The water there is boiling!" cried Imnak.

  "Nothing could live in it," I said.

  "The beast is dead," he said.

  "Perhaps," I said.

  "You saw the face in the sky," he said.

  "The mechanism to project that image," I said, "could have been preset."

  "The beast is dead," said Imnak. "If it did not die in the rooms and halls, surely it died, scalded or drowned, in the surrounding waters."

  "Nothing could live there," said a hunter.

  "The beast is dead," said Imnak.

  "Perhaps," I said. "I do not know."

  The ice beneath our feet began to buckle and groan.

  "Hurry!" cried Imnak.

  I took one last look at the distant, churning, steaming waters, erupting and boiling, where the polar sea, as though offended and startled, hissing in indignation, recoiled from the fiery touch of a mechanism contrived paradoxically by the wit of rational creatures.

  The Priest-Kings have set limits to the devices of men upon this world. They favor the spear and the bow, the sword and the steel of the knife. But Kurii lived not under their ordinances. I wondered from what shaggy Prometheus, long ago, Kurii had accepted fire. I wondered at what it might mean, fire kindled in the paw of a beast.

  "Hurry!" cried Imnak. "Hurry!"

  Nature transcended is perhaps nature outraged.

  "Hurry!" cried Imnak. He shook my shoulder. "The beast is dead!" he cried. "Hurry!"

  I recalled the chamber of Zarendargar, and two glasses, drained of paga, dashed against a wall of steel.

  I lifted my hand to the roiling, steaming waters in the distance, beneath the high, spreading cloud.

  "Hurry!" cried Imnak.

  I turned the sled about, and cracked the whip over the head of the sleen. "On!" I cried. "On!"

  The sleen, clawing and scratching at the ice, threw its weight against the harness.

  The ice split behind me, and my foot, protected in its sleenskin boot, splashed in water, and I thrust the sled up and onto solid ice, and, crying out at the sleen, cracking the whip, sped away.

  38

  I Shall Return to the South

  I gently closed the door of the feasting house. I did not think my departure would be noticed.

  Inside the people of Imnak's camp disported themselves. There was much boiled meat and stew. Inside there was laughter and song. Outside a gentle snow had begun to fall. I could hear the noises of pleasure from within the low, half-buried feasting house. I looked out to the shore of the polar sea, that northern extending branch of Thassa. The stars were bright in the moonlit sky.

  I made my way to the sleds.

  Inside the feasting house Imnak was singing. This pleased me. No longer was he intimidated by the mountain which had once seemed to rear before him. No longer did he fear to sing, for now the mountain welcomed him. "No one knows from where songs come," as the People say. But now songs had come to Imnak. He was no longer lonely of songs. They welled from within him, like the surfacing of the great Hunjer whale, like the dawning of the sun after the long night, like the bursting of the tundra into flower, the tiny white and yellow flowers emerging from their snowy cocoonlike buds.

  In the feasting house Imnak sang. Poalu was there, too. I checked the harness on the snow sleen on my sled.

  "I am not greater
than the mountain," said Imnak, "and yet the mountain cannot sing without me. It is only through me, and others, too, that the mountain can see, and can sing. Only through me can the mountain know how beautiful it is. I must tell the mountain of its beauty. Songs come from me now, telling me their names and stories. One is glad that they come. One is pleased to be a friend of songs. No one can climb to the top of the mountain. One climbs a little higher than another, but that is all. It is enough for a hunter, one small and frail, to stand on the lower slopes and sing. No one climbs much higher than another, and no one can truly speak the glory and beauty of the mountain. It is enough to stand on the lower slopes and sing. Who could ask more from life than the opportunity to stand for a time on the slope of the mountain and sing?"

  The harness on the snow sleen was secure. The beast was restless.

  There were some eight sleds there. Ram and Drusus had their sleds, and, besides mine, there were the sleds of five hunters, men who would accompany us south, across Ax Glacier. Tied by the neck to the left-hand, rear upright of Ram's sled, clad in furs, was Tina. Tied by the necks to the left-hand, rear upright of the sled of Drusus, clad in furs, were the two beauties he had selected and chained in the complex of the Kurii. Various girls were tied similarly to the sleds of the hunters who would accompany us. They were girls from the complex, some of whom had been free women, who would be taken south as trade goods. Tied to the left-hand, rear upright of my own sled, too, was a coffle line. On it, neck-secured, were six girls. It was a double coffle line; the last girl is placed on it first; the double line is knotted about her neck and then the two strands are taken forward; the fifth girl was next neck-knotted into the line and the two strands taken forward again, and so on; when the first girl is put in the coffle, the two strands are then taken forward again and knotted about the left-hand, rear upright of the sled; this way the only free ends of the bond, by means of which it might be untied, knotted together, fall at the left hand of the driver, and are easily within his view. This is a useful coffle tie when the girls' hands are not tied behind their backs. We wanted their hands free to help with the sled, when it became necessary to haul or push it over rough ground or through heaps of ice or broken snow.