Magicians of Gor (18 page)

which Goreans take seriously, wagons are not permitted on certain streets, and

on many streets only during certain hours, usually at night or in the early

morning. Indeed, most deliveries, as of produce from the country, not borne on

the backs of animals of peasants, are made at night or in the early morning.

This is also often the case with goods leaving the city, such as shipments of

pottery and linens.

We were walking in the Metellan district, and then turned east toward the Avenue

of Turia. Phoebe was heeling Marcus.

This morning, some Ahn before dawn, a convoy of wagons had rattled past our

lodgings in the Metallan district, in the insula of Torbon on Demetrios Street.

Our room, like many in an insula, had no window there, overlooking the street.

Below, guided here and there by lads, with lanterns, were the wagons. There had

been a great many of them. Demetrios Street, like most Gorean streets, like no

sidewalks or curbs but sloped gently from both sides to a central gutter. The

lads with the lanterns, their light casting dim yellow pools here and there on

the walls and paving stones, performed an important function. Without some such

illumination it is only too easy to miss a turn or gouge a wall with an axle.

Marcus had joined me after a time. The wagons were covered with canvas, roped

down. It was not the first such convoy which we had seen in the past weeks.

“Well,” Marcus had asked, “what is being borne?”

“Who knows?” I had asked.

He laughed.

To be sure, we knew, generically, what was being borne. It was not difficult to

tell. Normal goods, exports of bar iron, and such, do not move in the city in

such numbers. It is true, of course, that sometimes wagons would congregate at

meeting places near gates, the wagons, say, of various manufacturers and

merchants, and then travel on the roads in convoys, as a protection against

brigandage, but in such a case the wagons, having different points of origin,

would not form their convoy until in the vicinity of the gates, and, indeed,

sometimes outside them, in order to avoid blocking streets. But the formation of

such convoys, too, are usually advertised on the public boards, this information

being of interest to various folks, say, merchants who might wish to ship goods,

teamsters, guards, and such, who might wish employment, and folks wishing to

book (pg. 103) passage. Sometimes, incidentally, rich merchants can manage a

convoy by themselves, but even so they will usually accommodate the wagons of

others in their convoys. There is commonly safety in numbers and the greater the

numbers usually the greater the safety. A fee is usually charged for entering

wagons in a convoy, this primarily being applied to defray the costs of guards.

Too, in some cases, it may be applied to tolls, drinking water, provender for

animals, and such. Some entrepreneurs make their living by the organization,

management and supply of convoys. But these convoys, those of the sort now

passing, were not such convoys. For example, they were not advertised. Indeed,

many in Ar might not even be aware of them. Another clue as to the sort of

convoys they were was that the wagons were not uniform but constituted rather a

diverse lot. Some were even street wagons, and not road wagons, the latter

generally of heavier construction, built for use outside the city where roads

may be little more than irregular paths, uneven, steep, rugged and treacherous.

Some Goreans cities, for example, perhaps as a military measure, in effect

isolate themselves by the refusal to allocate funds for good roads. Indeed, they

often go further by neglecting the upkeep of even those tracks that exist. It

can be next to impossible to reach such cities in the spring, because of the

rains. Besnit is an example. Beyond this, although many of the wagons were

unmarked, many others, in the advertising on their sides, bore clear evidence of

their origins, the establishments of chandlers, carders, fullers, coopers,

weavers, millers, bakers, and so on, wagons presumably commandeered for their

present tasks. As a point this convoy, and those which had preceded it on other

days, seemed overstaffed, particularly for the city. Instead of having one

driver, or a driver and a fellow, a relief driver or one to help with the

unloading, and perhaps a lad to help through the city in the darkness, each

wagon had at least four or five full-grown men with it, armed, usually two or

three on the wagon box, and another two or three on the cargo itself, on the

canvas, or, in some cases, holding to the wagon, riding on sideboards or the

step below the wagon gate. Others, too, here and there, were afoot, at the

sides.

“Ar bleeds,” said Marcus.

“Yes,” I had said.

“Where are we going?” asked Marcus, following me.

“I want to see what is going on at the walls,” I said.

“The same thing,” said he, “as was going on last time.”

“I wish to see what progress is being made,” I said.

“You merely wish to observe the flute girls,” he said.

(pg. 104) “That, too,” I admitted.

In a few Ehn we were on the Avenue of Turia, one of the major avenues in Ar. It

is lined with Tur trees.

“What a beautiful street!” exclaimed Phoebe. The vista, when one comes

unexpectedly on it, particularly after the minor side streets, is impressive.

Marcus turned about, sharply, and regarded her. She stopped.

“Are you in a collar?” he asked.

“Yes, Master!” she said.

“Are you a slave?” he asked.

“Yes, Master!” she said.

“Do you think,” he asked, “that just because I did not slay you on the day of

the victory of Cos, that I am weak?”

“No, Master!” she said.

“Or that you may do as you please?”

“No, Master!”

“I decided then to think of you as merely what you are, a slave girl.”

“Of course, Master,” she said.

“Do you think that any of the fellows of Cos about would free you because you

were once of Cos?” he asked.

“No, Master,” she said, “for I am now no longer of Cos. I am now no more than an

animal, no more than a slave.”

“Perhaps then,” he said, “you will consider such matters before you next speak

without permission.”

“Yes, Master,” she said.

We then continued on our way.

Marcus, enamored even as he was with every glance and movement, every word and

wisp of hair, of his slave, was determined, I was pleased to note, to keep her

under perfect discipline. To be sure, he had not beaten her. On the other hand,

she had had her warning, and might, the next time, be taught the penalties for

such an infringement, in a sense, a daring to exceed her station. Sometimes a

girl will court the whip, and even provoke her master. After her whipping,

reassured of the strength of her master, and that she will be kept in her place,

where she belongs, and wishes to be, she curls gratefully, lovingly, at his

feet, eager to serve in all way, his to command. To be sure, I think that

Phoebe’s outburst was genuinely inadvertent. I was now sure what I would have

done in Marcus’ place. Perhaps the same thing. Perhaps, on the other hand, I

would have cuffed her. I do not know. There are, of course, inadvertences and

inadvertences. Usually a girl can tell when she has an implicit permission to

speak, that is, for example, (pg. 105) when the master would not be likely to

object to it, or would even welcome it, and when it would be wise to ask for

such permission explicitly. When she is in doubt it would be wise to ask. I

myself, incidentally, am occasionally inclined to encourage a certain

inventiveness and spontaneity on the part of slaves. On the other hand the girl

must always be clearly aware that she is subject, at any time. she is, after

all, a slave.

“Did you notice the haircut of that young fellow we just passed?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “It is done in the style of Myron, the polemarkos.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Here are public boards,” said Marcus.

Such are found at various points in Ar, such as the vicinity of squares and

plazas, near markets, and on major streets and avenues.

“Is there anything new?” I inquired. I would prefer for Marcus to make out the

lettering. He read Gorean fluently.

“Not really,” said Marcus. “The usual things, quotations from various officials,

testimonials of fidelity to both Cos and Ar, declarations of chagrin and shame

by various men of not concerning the crimes of Ar under Gnieus Lelius.”

“I see,” I said. It was now some two months since the entry of Myron into the

city and the subsequent triumph of Lurius of Jad, celebrated a day later in his

name by Myron, the polemarkos, in which triumph he, Myron, acting as proxy for

Lurius of Jad, was joined by Seremides and Talena, and several weeks after the

ascension of Talena to the throne of Ar, as Ubara. Her coronation may have been

somewhat less spectacular then Myron’s entry into the city and Lurius’

subsequent triumph, which may have grated upon her somewhat, but I think it had

been impressive enough. The crown of Tur leaves was placed upon her head by

Myron, but on behalf of the people and councils of Ar. Seremides and most

members of the High Council were in attendance. Certain other members of the

High Council were asserted to be indisposed. Some rumors had it that they were

under house arrest. A medallion of Ar was also placed about Talena’s neck but

the traditional medallion, which had been worn by Marlenus, and which he had

seldom permitted out of his keeping, and which he may have had with him upon his

departure from the city long ago, had not been found. Too, the ring of the Ubar,

which in any event would have been too large for the finger of Talena, was not

found. But that ring, it was said, had not been in Ar for years. Indeed, it had

been rumored (pg. 105) in Ar, even before the disappearance of Marlenus, that it

had once been lost in the northern forests, upon a hunting expedition. After the

medallion, Talena had been given the Home Stone of Ar, that she might hold it in

her left hand, and a scepter, a rod of office, signifying power, that she might

hold in her right. Her coronation was followed by a declaration of five

holidays. The triumph of Lurius of Jad, as I recall, had been followed by ten

such days. The chief advisors of the new ubara were Myron of Cos, and Seremides,

once of Tyros.

“Here is something,” said Marcus, “though I do not gather its import.”

“What?” I asked.

“There is a charge to the citizens and councils of Ar to consider how they might

make amends for their complicity in the crimes of their city.”

“Reparations?” I asked.

“I do not know,” said Marcus.

“I would have thought that Ar had already made considerable amend,” I said.

I recalled the convoys of wagons which had passed by the insula of Torbon on the

street of Demetrios.

“Be careful what you say,” said a man near me.

“We are guilty,” said a man.

“Yes,” said another.

“It is only right,” said another, “that we should attempt to make amends to our

good friends of Cos and others whom we may have injured.”

“True,” said another man.

Marcus and I then, followed by Phoebe, continued on our way.

“The Home Stone of Ar’s Station is no longer exhibited publicly,” said Marcus,

gloomily.

“I think it will be again,” I said.

“Why do you say that?” he asked, interested.

“I have my reasons,” I said. “Do not concern yourself with it now.”

“The wall seems very bare there,” said Marcus, as we passed a public edifice, a

court building.

There were also numerous small holes in the wall, chipped at the edges.

“Surely you have noted similar walls,” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Decorative reliefs, in marble, have been removed from them,” I said. “As I

recall the ones here, they celebrated the feats of Hesius, a perhaps legendary

hero of Ar.”

(pg. 107) “He for whom the month of Hesius is named,” said Marcus.

“I presume so,” I said. The month of Hesius is the second month of the year in

Ar. It follows the first passage hand. In Ar, as in most cities in the northern

hemisphere, the new year begins with the vernal equinox.

“Were the marbles here well done?” asked Marcus.

“Though I am scarcely a qualified judge of such things,” I said, “I would have

thought so. They were very old, and reputed to be the work of the master,

Aurobion, though some have suggested they were merely of his school.”

“I have heard of him,” said Marcus.

“Some think the major figures profited from his hand and that portions of the

minor detail, and some of the supportive figures, were the work of students.”

“Why would the marbles be removed?” asked Marcus.

“They have antiquarian value, as well as aesthetic value,” I said. “I would

suppose that they are now on their way to a museum in Cos.”

“The decorative marbles on the Avenue of the Central Cylinder, and those about

the Central Cylinder itself, and on the Cylinder of Justice are still there,” he

said.

“At least for the time,” I said. The building we had just passed was an

extremely old building. Many in Ar were not sure of its age. It may have dated