John Norman - Gor 11 Read online

  Thurnus held out his cup. I prepared to put Sul paga in the cup. Then he held the cup closer to him. I must needs approach more closely.

  Exciting men is a price a girl pays for her beauty. I was more than willing to pay that price. I was joyful to pay that price. Yet I knew that beauty on a world such as Gor was not without its risks. I suddenly wished I wore a name collar, like Eta, that would make it clear to whom I belonged. My master had not even bothered to put a collar on me. I was a collarless slave.

  "Come closer, little beauty," said Thurnus.

  I crept a bit closer to him, on my knees, with the paga. I wore the scandalously brief, torn, hooked, sleeveless Ta-Teera, which so displayed a girl's charms.

  I feared Thurnus. I had seen his eyes on me often.

  I poured Sul paga into his goblet, my head bending quite near to him. My hair was longer now than when I had come to Gor. It was still shorter than that of most slave girls. Most slave girls wear their hair long and loose, though sometimes it is held back with a headband or tied behind the head with a string or ribbon, in a ponytail. My hair fell before my shoulders, over the Ta-Teera.

  My master, with his lieutenants, sat cross-legged in the large, thatched hut of Thurnus. It was high, and conical, and floored with rough planks, set some six or seven feet on poles above the ground, that it might be drier and protected from common insects and vermin. The entrance was reached by a flight of rough, narrow steps. The entrances to many of the huts in the village, similarly constructed, were reached by ladders. Thurnus was caste leader. In the center of the hut was a large flat, circular piece of metal, on which, on legs, might sit braziers or the small, flattish cooking stoves, using pressed, hardened wood, common in the villages north and west of Ar. About the walls were the belongings of the house, in coffers and bales. Elsewhere about the village were storage huts and animal pens. Mats covered the rough planks. From the walls hung vessels and leathers. A smoke hole in the top of the hut permitted the escape of fumes. The hut, probably because of its construction, was not smoky. Also, though it was windowless and had but one door, it was not, at this time of day, dark. Through the straw of its roof and sides there was a considerable, delicate filtering of sunlight. The hut in the summer is light and airy. The frame of such a hut is constructed of Ka-la-na and Tem wood. The roof is rethatched and the walls rewoven every third or fourth year. In the winters, which are not harsh at this latitude, such huts are covered on the outside with painted canvas or, among the richer peasants, with ornamented, painted bosk hides, protected and glossed with oil. The village of Tabuk's Ford lay some four hundred pasangs generally north and slightly west. The Vosk road was the road used many years ago by the horde of Pa-Kur, in its approach to the city of Ar. We had traveled the Vosk road after crossing the Vosk on barges. It is wide, and built like a great wall, sunk in the earth. It is marked with pasang stones. It is, I suppose, given its nature, a military road leading to the north, broad enough to accommodate war tharlarion, treading abreast, and the passage, two or three, side by side, of thousands of supply wagons and siege engines, without unduly, for more than several pasangs, extending and exposing the lines of the march. Such roads permit the swift movement of thousands of men, useful either in the defense of borders, the meeting of armies, or in the expansions of imperialism, the conquests of the weak.

  Thurnus looked at me.

  "You may kiss my cup, Slave," said he. I pressed my lips to his cup, which he held in his hand. I was weak. I was a girl. I was at the mercy of men.

  On the wall of the hut, behind Thurnus, hung the great bow, of supple Ka-la-na. It was tipped with notched bosk horn. It was now unstrung, but the string, of hemp, whipped with silk, lay ready, looped loose upon the broad, curved yellow wood. Near the bow hung a mighty quiver, in which nestled flight and sheaf arrows, and many of each thereof. Such a weapon I could not even bend. It required, too, not simply the strength of a man, but of a man who was un-usually strong. Most men, no more than a woman, could use such a fearsome device. It was a common weapon among peasants. It is often called the peasant bow. The other common peasant weapon is the great staff, some six feet in length, some two inches in width. Two such staffs rested to one side, inclining upright against the wall, between a yellow box, about a foot high, and a roll of coarsely woven rep-cloth.

  "And do not remove your lips from the cup," said Thurnus, "until given permission."

  I kept my lips pressed to the cup, my head bent to the side. A Gorean slave girl dares not disobey.

  "Thurnus," said his free companion, a large, heavy woman, in a rep-cloth veil, kneeling to one side. She was squat and heavy. She was not much pleased.

  There was a kennel nearby, where Thurnus kept his girls. He did not tend his fields alone.

  "Be quiet," said Thurnus, to her, "Woman."

  To one side, against the wall of the hut, there rested, on a small table, a piece of plain, irregularly shaped rock, which Thurnus, years earlier, when first he had founded the farm, later to be the community, of Tabuk's Ford, had taken from his own fields. He had, one morning, years ago, bow upon his back and staff in hand, seed at his thigh, after months of wandering, come to a place which had pleased him. It lay in the basin of the Verl. He had been driven from his father's village, for his attendance upon a young free woman of the village. Her brother's arms and legs had he broken. The woman had followed him. She had become his companion. With him, too, had come two young men, and two other women, who saw in him, the young, raw-boned giant, the makings of a caste leader. Months had they wandered. Then, following Tabuk, in the basin of the Verl, he had come to a place which had pleased him. There the animals had forded the river. He had not followed them further. He had driven the yellow stake of claimancy into the dark soil, near the Verl, and had stood there, his weapons at hand, beside the stake, until the sun had reached the zenith and then, slowly, set. It was then he had reached to his feet and picked up the stone, from his own fields. It now rested in his hut. It was the Home Stone of Thurnus.

  "Thurnus," said his companion.

  He paid her no attention. It had been many years ago that she had followed him from the village of her father. It had all been many years ago. In the fashion of the peasants he kept her. She had grown slack and fat. She could no longer in honor return to the village of her brother.

  I kept my lips pressed to Thurnus's cup. He drew the cup more closely to him. I must needs follow.

  I knew he had girls he kept in a kennel.

  Thurnus was a strong man, of the sort who must either have many women, or incredibly much from one woman. His companion, I supposed, was tio longer attractive to him, or, perhaps, in the prides of her freedom, was too remote to be much in his attention. It is easiest for a man to see a woman who is at his feet, begging to be seen.

  "You are a pretty little slave," said Thurnus to me.

  I could not speak, for my lips were pressed to his cup.

  "What is her name?" asked Thurnus of my master.

  "She does not have a name," he responded.

  "Oh," said Thurnus. Then he said, "She is a pretty little thing." I felt his hand on my leg.

  Angrily, Melina, who was the free companion of Thurnus of Tabuk's Ford, rose to her feet and left the hut.

  I shuddered under the intimate touch of Thurnus. I could not withdraw from his caress for my lips must needs remain pressed to his cup.

  "Perhaps we should give her a name," suggested Marla.

  "Perhaps," said one of the lieutenants, looking at me.

  "What do you think of Stupid Girl?" asked Marla.

  The men laughed.

  "Or Clumsy Girl!" she urged.

  "Better," said one of the lieutenants.

  How angry I was at Marla, and how jealous of her. She was a saucy slave. Had I so spoken, so freshly and without permission, I might have been whipped.

  She was high slave.

  "You are right," said my Master. "She is both stupid and clumsy, but she is growing in intelligence, and in
beauty and grace."

  I flushed with pleasure to hear him say this.

  "Let us give her a name more suitable to a slave girl, who, one day, will perhaps be capable of pleasing men."

  My lips remained pressed to Thurnus's cup. I could not withdraw from his caress. I began to become aroused. I was a slave. I could not help myself.

  Thurnus laughed. He then, with his peasant's humor, suggested two names, both descriptive, both embarrassing.

  My thighs moved. How furious I was! I was a slave. I could not help myself.

  I was furious, too, at the laughter which greeted Thurnus's proposals. Yet I knew that if I were given either of those intimate, obscene names, I would have to wear it. They would simply be my name.

  "Let us think further," chuckled my master. He was Clitus Vitellius, of the caste of warriors, of the city of Ar.

  I began to move helplessly under the touch of Thurnus. I could not help myself. I was slave.

  My master watched me. "There is something to be said of course," said he, "for the suggestions of Thurnus."

  I moaned with misery.

  "But I think," said he, smiling, "we may look further."

  I tried to restrain myself, to keep from responding to the touch of Thurnus. I could not do so. I thought of Elicia Nevins, who had been my lovely beauty rival in the college on Earth. How amused the haughty Elicia would have been to see me now, a half naked slave girl, clad in the scandalous Ta-Teera, her lips pressed to a cup, responding so helplessly to a man's touch. How humiliated and embarrassed I was to even think of the proud, serene, contemptuous Elicia in my present predicament. How pleased I was that she could not see her old rival now.

  Thurnus moved the cup a bit closer to him, maneuvering me into a yet more helpless position. My hands were clenched on the wrist that held the cup. I felt the cup with my teeth.

  "Marla is a pretty name," said my Master. He looked at Marla, in his arms. "Do you not think Marla is a good name for a slave?"

  "Oh, yes, Master," she whispered. "Marla is a superb name for a slave." She began to kiss him about the throat and chin.

  "Perhaps I should call her `Marla,'" said he.

  I knew that, in an instant, my name might be Marla. I shuddered.

  "But we already have one Marla among our girls," smiled my Master, looking down into the beautiful, uplifted dark eyes of the lovely Marla.

  "Yes, Master," she whispered.

  I did not know what name I would wear.

  "If the nameless slave interests you in the least," said my master to Thurnus, indicating me with his head, "you may, of course, do what you wish with her."

  I shuddered, a slave girl on Gor.

  "But," said Thurnus, laughing, "you have come to examine sleen."

  My master shrugged. "That is true," he admitted.

  "Let us then waste no more time sporting with slave girls," said Thurnus, "but turn our attention to more serious business." Thurnus looked at me. "You may remove your lips from the cup, Girl," he said.

  I withdrew my lips from the cup. He removed his hand from my body, and stood up.

  I knelt on the floor. My eyes were wide. My teeth were gritted. I wanted to scratch at the mats on the floor with my fingernails.

  My master rose to his feet, and his lieutenants with him. Marla angrily, pouting, put her legs beneath her, and knelt. We were only girls. The men had business. There were more important things for them to attend to than us.

  I wanted to roll on the floor and scream.

  I looked at the Home Stone in the hut. In this hut, for it was here that his Home Stone resided, Thurnus was sovereign. In this hut, even had he been a lowly man or beggar, he, because of the presence in it of his Home Stone, was Ubar. A palace without a Home Stone is but a hovel; a hovel which contains a Home Stone is a palace.

  In this house, this hut, this palace, Thurnus's was the supremacy. Here he might do as he pleased. His rights in this house, his supremacy in this place, was acknowledged by all guests. They shared the hospitality of his Home Stone.

  Had Thurnus requested me my master, in such a situation, would have granted me to him immediately. Not to have done so would have been inexcusably rude, a betrayal, a boorish breech of hospitality and good manners.

  Yet Thurnus, though I had little doubt he found me of more than casual interest, had not asked for me. I wondered if he had, in his openness with me, been testing my master, to learn him better. Thurnus impressed me as a shrewd man. My master had well respected the house of Thurnus, and his sovereignty within it. Satisfied then with the acknowledgement of this power, which was rightfully his in this house, Thurnus neither put me to his purposes, nor requested of my master his permission to do so, a permission which would have assuredly been promptly and willingly tendered. Having thus certified my master's recognition of his rights, he chose, magnanimously and nobly, as is often done, not to exercise them. I was, after all, my master's property. In this simple manner these two strong men had shown one another, in the Gorean mode, respect.

  But Gorean males, I knew, in such situations, not only respected one another, but were often generous with one another.

  In the feast to come tonight, Eta had warned me, there would be a general exchange of slave girls, the bond girls of the village being made available to my master's men, and his own girls, among whom I was one, being made available to the young lads of the community. We would be run between the huts within the palisade.

  The men prepared to leave the hut.

  My master snapped his fingers and Maria sprang to her feet and went out the door of the hut. His lieutenants followed her.

  I was on my hands and knees. There were tears in my eyes. I lifted my hand to my master.

  "I am afraid I have aroused your slave," said Thurnus, looking back at me.

  "Please, Master," I whispered.

  "It doesn't matter," he said. Then he turned and went down the stairs. "Let us look at sleen," he said.

  Thurnus looked at me. "You are a pretty little slave," he said. Then he, too, turned, and, descending the steps, left the vicinity of the hut.

  In the hut, alone, I struck the mats with my fists. In a short time, one of the men of my master entered the hut. He tied my hands behind my back.

  "Simmer and cook until the feast, Little Pudding," he said. "You will then be well ready."

  7

  Clitus Vitellius

  "Do not run me, Master," wept Slave Beads. "I was once a free woman!"

  "To the line," said my master.

  Slave Beads stumbled. to the long line scratched in the in the village of Tabuk's Ford. She wore the shreds of what had once been the last undergarment beneath her robes of concealment. Its sleeves had been torn away; it had been rent at the side; it had been cut short, and later torn even shorter, until it hung high upon her thighs, exposing even the left hip; at the throat it had been ripped open down, down to the belly, two inches below the navel. She was barefoot, as is common among slave girls.

  "Where will we run?" wailed Slave Beads to me.

  "There is nowhere to run," I told her. The village was surrounded by a palisade, the gate of which was barred.

  "I do not want to be run as a slave girl," wept Slave Beads. She covered her eyes with her hands.

  "Stop blubbering," said Lehna.

  "Yes, Mistress," said Slave Beads. She was frightened of Lehna. One of the first things that had been done with her after her branding was to be put in a Sirik and given over to Lehna for a disciplinary switching.

  My master, with his men, in a bold coup, had several weeks ago stolen the Lady Sabina of Fortress of Saphronicus from among her retainers, on her journey to be joined in companionship to Thandar of Ti, of Ti, of the Four Cities of Saleria, those comprising the Salerian Confederation. The motivation for this abduction, as well as the motivation for the companionship originally, was apparently political. The companionship was to weld commercial and political relationships between Fortress of Saphronicus and the Salerian Confed
eration, which was an aggressive and expanding league of cities northeast of the Vosk. The growing power of the Salerian Confederation was not viewed with favor by the city of Ar, which, lying in Gor's northern hemisphere, is the major power between the Vosk and the Cartius, and between the Voltai Range and Thassa, the sea. The Ubar of Ar, whose name is Marlenus, is said to be an ambitious and brilliant man, proud and courageous, and imperialistic. He might view the Salerian Confederation as eventually being capable, if it continued to expand, of posing a threat to Ar, either to its security or to its ambitions. As geopolitical matters now stood a plurality of disunited cities, most of them rather small, lay scattered in the territories north of the Vosk. This created, for a strong state, such as Ar, defensively, a reasonably stable, secure border, and, with respect to her possible ambitions, an attractive, exploitable power vacuum. The growth of the Salerian Confederation, on the other hand, might conceivably alter this situation to the detriment of Ar. If the cities of Saleria should multiply and grow strong, their power might balance or exceed that of great Ar itself. Armies and tarn cavalries might then move south. Already, only some years ago, Ar had tasted the bitterness of enemies within her walls, when, in the political confusion following the temporary loss of her Home Stone and the deposition of her Ubar, Marlenus, there had been a revolt of tributary cities, organized and led by Pa-Kur, Master of the Caste of Assassins. The horde of Pa-Kur, as it is spoken of, had set siege to glorious Ar. Initiates, inept and cowardly, then holding power in Ar, had surrendered the city, an act which to this day in Ar has tended to damage the prestige of that caste. On the day of Ar's surrender itself was she saved, by the uprising of her very citizens, violent in the streets, abetted by the forces of certain cities of the north, notably Ko-ro-ba and Thentis. This is told of in the songs. One of the heroes in the songs is called Tarl of Bristol. Marlenus, too, is a hero in such songs. He later retook the throne of Ar, following upon the forcible, civil overthrew of Cernus of Ar, declared a false Ubar. He sits now upon the throne of Ar. He is sometimes spoken of as the Ubar of Ubars.