John Norman - Gor 11 Read online

  "You are still clothed," said Bran Loort observing me.

  "Let me tear away my clothes before you," I begged, "that the beauty of a poor slave girl may be bared to you."

  "Do so," he said.

  I cried out in anguish. Again the ropes would not let me strip myself.

  "You have apparently not yet learned your lesson," he said.

  "Please, Master!" I wept.

  "Let the thorn brush strip her," said Bran Loort.

  "No!" I cried.

  By the ropes I was dragged into the midst of tenacious, barbed brush, that thicket of such. I screamed with misery. I begged mercy. I was shown none. The brush tore at my clothing and body. Rudely I was drawn through it. I cried out, throwing my head from side to side. I kept my eyes closed, that I be not blinded. "Please, Masters!" I cried. They did not see fit to show a girl mercy. Bloodied, my body a welter of scratches and linear wounds, I was pulled from the brush. The Earth-girl slave was now naked.

  They hit me with the ropes and again we continued our journey. They sang as they conducted me to the place of their feast, on the grass by the stream.

  There they held my wrists about a tree and, striking many times, put me under rope-discipline. Held against the tree, feeling its bark with the side of my cheek, weeping, shuddering under the blows of the coiled rope, I wondered what I had done to them that they should be so cruel to me.

  They then took me and threw me to the grass on my back. My ankles, by the rope leashes tied on them, held by two boys, were pulled widely apart. Bran Loort looked down upon me.

  I realized then that I, a slave girl, had, days ago, eluded them in the game of girl catch. I had, in that game, by my cleverness, bested them. I did not now feel clever. I would now pay for my cleverness. How foolish of a slave girl to attempt to best a free man. Does she not know she may someday come into his ownership!

  I cried out. Bran Loort was the first to have me.

  "Come out, Thurnus!" called Bran Loort. "See what I have for you."

  I lay at the feet of Bran Loort, my knees drawn up, on my side in the dirt. My hands were tied behind my back. I was naked, and my body was covered with dried blood and dirt. A rope, knotted, ran from my neck to his hand. My cheek was in the dust. I was cold, and my body ached, from the rope beatings and abuse to which it had been subjected. I think I was partly in shock. I could no longer cry. The only flicker of feeling left in me was a fear of free men. I, a slave girl, had once bested free men in the game of girl catch. I had learned my lesson well. Never again would I try to best free men. They were master. I was slave.

  "Come out, Thurnus!" called Bran Loort. "See what I have for you!"

  My head jerked as Bran Loort, emphasizing his words, drew on the rope tied on my neck. I put my head down, shoulders trembling.

  "Thurnus! Come out!" cried Bran Loort.

  I shuddered.

  I lay in the dirt before the hut of Thurnus.

  It was night now, and men stood about, with torches. There were the eight young men of Bran Loort, and others, too, gathered from the village. The free men and women were there, and some slaves, not yet caged for the night. Sandal Thong was there, and Turnip, and Verr Tail and Radish. Melina had wanted them to see what was to occur. There were no children present. Bran Loort stood forward, his staff in his left hand, my neck rope in his right. His eight young men stood near to him, each with his staff. Ringing us were villagers and slaves. All eyes turned to the doorway of Thurnus's hut. Melina emerged from the hut and descended the stairs to the ground. Thurnus's hut was near to the center of the village, near its clearing. I could smell the sleen in the cool, night air. It was chilly.

  My back and legs were covered with welts from the rope lashings I had been given. My thighs were sore.

  Melina stood at the bottom of the stairs. She, too, turned to face the opening.

  I looked at Bran Loort. He looked very splendid, proud and strong, a girl's neck rope in his hand, she, proof of his manhood, at his feet. The staff he held was over six feet in length and some two to three inches in width. "I am going to be first in Tabuk's Ford," had Bran Loort once said to me. I recalled, too, something else he had said. "When I am first," he had said, "Melina will give you to me."

  "Come out, Thurnus," called Melina, from the foot of the stairs below the hut.

  I looked to the doorway of the hut. It was dark, empty.

  The eyes of all looked at the opening to the hut.

  Thurnus did not appear.

  Men stood about, with torches. It was silent, save for the crackle of the torches. I lay bound. The ropes on my wrists, holding them closely behind my back, were very tight.

  I heard a sleen squeal from some eighty yards away, behind the huts, in the cage areas.

  There was a change in the breathing of the crowd. Thurnus stood now in the entrance to his hut.

  "Geetings, Thurnus," called Bran Loort.

  "Greetings, Bran Loort," said Thurnus.

  Bran Loort's heavily sandaled foot struck into my belly. I cried out with pain.

  "On your knees, Slave Girl," said Bran Loort.

  I struggled to my knees. He took up the slack in the neck rope, coiling it, holding my head a foot from his thigh. My vision blurred, and then cleared. I saw Thurnus looking down at me.

  He regarded me.

  Much and well had the young men of Tabuk's Ford pleasured themselves with the girl from Earth, the former Judy Thornton, now the helpless Gorean slave girl, Dina.

  I put my head down, under the gaze of my master. But I was not to be permitted this courtesy. The rope, Bran Loort's fist in it, at my neck, the knot, under the left side of my jaw, pulled my head up.

  I was to be displayed to Thurnus.

  "I have something here of yours," said Bran Loort.

  "I see," said Thurnus.

  "She is a hot little slave," he said, "juicy and pretty."

  "That is known to me." said Thurnus.

  "She kneels now at my feet," said Bran Loort.

  "I see that, Bran Loort," said Thumus.

  Swiftly Bran Loort then discarded the rope and, with his foot, thrust me to one side. I fell sprawling in the dirt, and turned, lying on one side, to watch.

  Bran Loort stood with both hands on his staff, one hand grasped in its center, the other hand, his left, some eighteen inches below the center of the staff. But Thurnus had not moved.

  No one stirred in the crowd. I heard the crackle of the torches.

  Bran Loort seemed for a moment unsteady. He looked from one of his cohorts to another.

  Then he again turned to face Thurnus, who stood, not speaking, at the height of the stairs, some six or seven feet above the level of the ground, in the doorway to his hut.

  "I have abused your slave," said Bran Loort.

  "That is what slaves are for," said Thurnus.

  "We took much pleasure in her!" said Bran Loort, angrily.

  "Did you find her pleasing?" asked Thurnus.

  "Yes," said Bran Loort. He gripped the long, heavy staff more firmly, standing ready.

  "Then," said Thurnus, "it will not be necessary for me to beat or slay her."

  Bran Loort looked puzzled.

  "Surely you know, Bran Loort," said Thurnus, "it is the duty of a slave girl to be fully and completely pleasing to men. Were she not so she would be subject to severe punishment, including even torture and death, should it be the master's wish."

  "We took her without your permission," said Bran Loort.

  "In this," said Thurnus, "you have committed a breach of code."

  "It does not matter to me," said Bran Loort.

  "Neither a plow, nor a bosk, nor a girl may one man take from another, saving with the owner's saying of it," quoted Thurnus.

  "I do not care," said Bran Loort.

  "What is it, Bran Loort, that separates men from sleen and larls?" asked Thurnus.

  "I do not know," said Bran Loort.

  "It is the codes," said Thurnus.

  "The c
odes are meaningless noises, taught to boys," said Bran Loort.

  "The codes are the wall," said Thurnus.

  "I do not understand," said Bran Loort.

  "It is the codes which separate men from sleen and larls," said Thurnus. "They are the difference. They are the wall."

  "I do not understand," said Bran Loort.

  "You have left the shelter of the wall, Bran Loort," said Thurnus.

  "Do you threaten me, Thurnus of Tabuk's Ford?" asked Bran Loort.

  "You stand now outside the shelter of the wall," said Thurnus.

  "I do not fear you!" cried Bran Loort.

  "Had you asked of me my permission, Bran Loort," said `Thurnus, indicating me with a gesture of his head, "willingly and without thought, gladly, would I have given you temporary master rights over her."

  I lay in the dirt, my hands bound behind my back, the rope on my neck, watching. It was true what Thurnus had said. I could have been loaned to Bran Loort, and would have had to serve him as though he were my own master.

  "But you did not ask my permission," said Thurnus.

  "No," said Bran Loort, angrily, "I did not."

  "Before, too, you have done such things, you, and these others, though not to the degree nor with the intent of this day."

  It was true. Sometimes the boys had caught us, Thurnus's girls, or those of others, too, and roped us together and raped us in the furrows of the fields, but it had been done in the bullying rowdyism of their youth, having slave girls at their mercy. There had been no intent of insult, or umbrage, in it. It had been the hot, fierce, innocent sport of strong young men, powerful and excited, who held brief-tunicked, branded girls, in rope collars, in their arms, nothing more. Does a slave girl not expect slave rape? Some masters enjoy having their girls raped occasionally; it serves to remind them that they are slaves. This sort of rape is not uncommon in a peasant village. It is usually taken for granted and ignored, save perhaps by the abused girls, but they are only slaves. Indeed, it is sometimes encouraged, to pacify young men whose natural aggressions otherwise might turn aside into destructive channels. It is also regarded, at times, as an aid in helping young males attain their manhood. "If she pleases you, run her down, and take her, son," is a not uncommon piece of paternal advice in a peasant village. I had heard this twice, though it had not been I on whom the young man had been set. Verr Tail had been caught and raped on her back, struggling, in the stream, once, and Radish had been caught and forced to give pleasure between the sleen cages. Each of these young men had walked differently following their conquest. I had shrunk back when they had approached. I knew they were now men, and I was only a slave. These two young men were not among the cohorts of Bran Loort. But what had been done today to me was clearly different in its intent and gravity from the casual, expected, fierce exhibitions of male aggression to which imbonded girls such as I must become accustomed.

  "I have been patient with you, Bran Loort," said Thurnus. "We are grateful for your patience," said Bran Loort. He looked about, at his cohorts, grinning. He set his staff, butt down, in the dirt.

  I sensed that the codes were to be invoked. What Bran Loort and his fellows had done exceeded the normal rights of custom, the leniencies and tacit permissions of a peasant community; commonly the codes are invisible; they exist not to control human life, but to make it possible. The rapes of Verr Tail and Radish, interestingly, had not counted as code breaches, though in neither case had explicit permission for their conquest been granted by Thurnus; such permission, in such cases, was implicit in the customs of the community; it did not constitute a "taking from" but a brief use of, an "enjoyment of," without the intent to do injury to the honor of the master; "taking from," in the sense of the code is not, strictly, theft, though theft would be "taking from." "Taking from," in the sense of the codes, implies the feature of being done against the presumed will of the master, of infringing his rights, more significantly, of offending his honor. In what Bran Loort had done, insult had been intended. The Gorean peasant, like Goreans in general, has a fierce sense of honor. Bran Loort had known exactly what he had been doing.

  "I am disposed to be merciful, Bran Loort," said Thumus, looking at me. "You may now request my permission for what you have done to this slave."

  "But," said Bran Loort, "I do not request your permission."

  "I must then call the council," said Thurnus, "that we may consider what is to be done with you."

  Bran Loort, throwing his head back, laughed, as did his fellows.

  "Why do you laugh, Bran Loort?" inquired Thurnus.

  "Only the caste leader may call the council," said Bran Loort. "And I do not choose to summon it into session."

  "Are you caste leader in Tabuk's Ford?" asked Thumus.

  "I am," said Bran Loort.

  "Who has said this?" inquired Thurnus.

  "I have said it," said Bran Loort. And he gestured to his fellows. "We have said it," he added.

  There were nine of them, including Bran Loort. They were large, strong young men. "Yes," said more than one of them.

  "I am sorry," said Thurnus. "I had thought that you had in you the makings of a caste leader."

  "I am caste leader," said Bran Loort.

  "In what village is that?" asked Thurnus.

  "In Tabuk's Ford," said Bran Loort, angrily.

  "Have you conveyed this intelligence to Thurnus of Tabuk's Ford?" inquired Thurnus.

  "I do so now," said Bran Loort. "I am first in Tabuk's Ford."

  "I speak for Thurnus, caste leader in the village of Tabuk's Ford," said Thurnus. "He speaks it not so."

  "I am first here," said Bran Loort.

  "In the name of Thurnus, he of the peasants, caste leader of the village of Tabuk's Ford," said Thurnus, "I speak. He, Thurnus, is first"

  "I am first!" cried Bran Loort.

  "No," said Thurnus.

  Bran Loort turned white.

  "Will it be the test of five arrows?" asked Thurnus.

  In this the villagers, with the exception of the two contestants, leave the village and the gate is closed. Each contestant carries in the village his bow, the great bow, the peasant bow, and five arrows. He who opens the gate to readmit the villagers is caste leader.

  "No," said Bran Loort, uneasily. He did not care to face the bow of Thurnus. The skill of Thurnus with the great bow was legendary, even among peasants.

  "Then," asked Thurnus, "it will be the test of knives?"

  In this the two men leave the village and enter, from opposite sides, a darkened wood. He who returns to the village is caste leader.

  "No," said Bran Loort. Few men, I thought, would care to meet Thurnus in the darkness of the woods armed with steel. The peasant is a part of the land. He can be like a rock or a tree. Or the lightning that can strike without warning from the dark sky.

  Bran Loort lifted his staff. "I am of the peasants," he said.

  "Very well," said Thurnus. "We shall subject this matter to grim adjudication. The staff will speak. The wood of our land will decide."

  "Good!" said Bran Loort.

  I noted that Sandal Thong had slipped from the crowd. None other seemed to note her going.

  Slowly, step by step, Thurnus descended the stairs from his hut.

  Melina, eyes glittering, stepped back from the foot of the stairs. Men, and villagers all, and slaves, cleared a space near the hut of Thurnus.

  "Build up the village fire," said Thurnus. Men hurried to do this. Thurnus opened his tunic, then pulled it down about his waist. He flexed his arms, and hitched up the skirt of the tunic, higher in his belt, until it was high on his thighs. Bran Loort, too, did these things.

  Thurnus came to me and lifted me to my feet, his hands on my arms. "Is it because of your beauty, little slave," he asked, "that this has come about?"

  I could not answer him, so miserable I was. I could not stand without his holding me.

  "No," said Thurnus. `There is more involved here." He turned me about and untied my wri
sts, and unknotted the rope from my neck, throwing it away.

  I stood in my brand and rope collar before him.

  I looked up at him. He had been kind to me.

  "Gag her and put her in the rape-rack," he said to a man.

  I regarded him, startled, as I was dragged from his presence. I would be secured in the rape-rack, the ready spoils for the victor. I did not know why I would be gagged.