Conspirators of Gor (39 page)

“No,” I said.

“Give me the candy,” she said. “Just for a little bit. I will not keep it. If it is hard, as you say, it will last a long time. I will give it back to you.”

“It has a soft center,” I said.

“No matter,” she said.

“Very well,” I said, and I freed the small candy from its wrapper, the candy and wrapper extracted from a tiny sleeve inside the hem of my tunic.

Antiope looked about.

We were the only slaves at the troughs now, and it was late afternoon. In an Ahn or so the curfew bar might sound.

Our laundry was piled to the side.

I shivered a little, as it seemed to be cooler now.

“You know about the killings?” asked Antiope.

“Very little,” I said.

“Some beast, or beasts, is in the city,” she said. “Eight or ten men, some women, have been torn to pieces, in different places, in different districts.”

“Could a larl be in the city,” I asked, “or a wild sleen?”

“Unlikely,” she said. “The work does not suggest the attack of such beasts.”

“Something different?” I said.

“What is wrong?” she asked.

I must have turned white, for I thought of the beast, Grendel. Such a thing would be fully capable of such work. How did I know the beast remained on the roof of the dwelling of Epicrates? It would be easy for something of its size, agility, and power to descend to the street. I knew it tended to leave the domicile only at night.

Antiope, holding the candy delicately, touched her tongue to the candy, her eyes closed.

“The bodies were not robbed,” she said. “They were partly eaten.”

“A larl then,” I said, “or a sleen?”

“No,” she said, “the larl, the sleen, kill in their own ways. Some of the bodies were crushed, others had the neck broken.”

“You thought it came from the sewers?” I said.

“It is thought so,” she said.

The candy disappeared into Antiope’s mouth. “Good,” she said.

“Make it last,” I said. I wanted some of it back.

“I will,” she said. She then removed it from her mouth, and again savored it, tongue-wise. In this way it would last a very long time, as it would not too soon melt away. It is a trick of slaves.

“Then tharlarion,” I said.

Some tharlarion, usually found in rivers, or along shores, are squat, heavy, sinuous, patient, and capable, under certain conditions, of brief bursts of speed.

“It does not seem so,” she said.

“Why do they think the sewers?” I asked.

“Where else?” she said. “Too, some thieves, some well known, in broad daylight, even within view of the praetor’s platform, pushing aside a grating, rushed from a sewer, to be shortly apprehended by rings of spear-bearing guardsmen. Shortly were the thieves manacled and neck-chained.”

“Why did they so emerge?” I asked.

“Something in the sewers they feared, and never saw,” she said.

“It was the beast, or beasts?” I said.

“Perhaps,” she said.

“Guardsmen, with lanterns, have surely traversed the sewers,” I said.

“It seems they found nothing,” she said. “Two never returned.”

I conjectured then that two had apparently found something, or had been found by something.

“There is one thought, but much rejected,” she said, licking at the candy.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Some months ago,” she said, “hunters in the Voltai, seeking larl, found an unusual beast in their net, almost man-like, but larger, covered with hair, large-jawed, fanged and clawed, fierce, twisting, and howling. Such a beast had never been seen. It was returned, caged, to Ar, and purchased for a carnival.”

I immediately recalled the faded, half-torn poster, the remains of which were affixed to the wall opposite one of the rear entrances to Six Bridges.

“It was a large, dangerous, stupid, simple thing,” she said, “and, as it proved, at least at the time, untrainable, it was kept for exhibition.”

“It was irrational?” I said.

“Clearly,” she said.

I was not sure of that.

“It then seemed docile, and bided its time,” she said. “Then, one day, when it was to be fed, it reached through the bars and seized a keeper’s arm, and broke him against the bars, and tore at his belt, where dangled his keys, but others intervened with spear butts, striking at the beast, and it, roaring, tore away the keeper’s arm, and fed on it, and the keeper died moments later, of shock and loss of blood.”

“It was reaching for the keys,” I said.

“No,” she said, “it only seemed so, as it was naught but a mindless, violent beast.”

“It later escaped?” I said.

“Its danger was recognized, and the owner of the carnival, who was also its chief trainer, to neutralize and pacify it, had it blinded, with hot irons.”

“What then?” I said.

“Weeks went by,” she said. “Then it was noticed one evening that the blinded beast was turning about, and moving, in time to the carnival music, when the kaiila were performing, and later, the striped urts. This was brought to the attention of the owner, the chief trainer, who brought a flautist to the vicinity of the cage, and, behold, the beast danced to the music of the flute. Thereafter this was one of the attractions in the carnival. Further, this suggested to the chief trainer that the beast might now prove susceptible to training. Apparently this proved to be the case, and, eventually, the beast, led on a leash, was brought regularly, in its turn, to the area of performance, surrounded by the crowd. There it performed simple tricks, to the snapping of a whip, jumping up and down, rolling over, turning about, climbing on boxes, and such. Then one evening, it turned on the chief trainer and tore out his eyes, and then, blindly, awkwardly, rushed through the crowd. Guardsmen, and others, were about, and the beast was wounded, cut, and slashed time and time again. Then it disappeared, bleeding, and limping, into the darkness.”

“Then it escaped,” I said, uneasily.

“In its flight,” she said, “it killed four, and injured several others.”

“It escaped,” I said.

“It is thought not,” she said. “It was struck many times. It is thought nothing could long live so grievously wounded, so copiously bleeding.”

“The body was not recovered,” I said.

“Blood led to the sewers,” she said. “It doubtless died in the sewers.”

“But that is not known,” I said.

“No,” she said, “that is not known.”

“One is then left with the mystery of the killings,” I said.

“Yes,” she said.

“What sort of beast was it?” I asked.

“Of an unusual sort,” she said.

“What was it doing in the Voltai?” I asked.

“I do not know,” she said.

“It is growing cold,” said Antiope.

“It is getting late,” I said.

I shivered, again.

We saw two guardsmen some yards away.

“Ho, kajirae,” called one of the guardsmen.

“Master?” said Antiope.

“Is your work done?” he inquired.

“Yes, Master,” said Antiope.

“Dawdle not then,” he said, “lest your collars be read.”

“Yes, Master,” we said, and hurried to gather up the laundry.

In leaving, it seemed we must pass them. Sometimes it is difficult to pass a free male, under certain conditions, without a kiss or a slap.

“Give me back the candy,” I whispered to Antiope.

“We must not dawdle,” she said.

“I am not dawdling,” I said, standing up.

“There is not much left,” she said.

“Give it to me,” I said.

“The masters may be displeased,” she said, uneasily.

“Approach,” called one of the guardsmen.

“They are displeased,” said Antiope, apprehensively.

We were then standing before the guardsmen. One of them had lifted his right hand, slightly, the palm up, so we did not kneel. I, and perhaps Antiope, as well, was uneasy at this, as one commonly kneels before a free person, often with the head down.

It was obvious to us that we were being looked upon, as the slaves we were.

Antiope was quite attractive, and I, surely, had often enough seen the eyes of men upon me.

“What is in your mouth?” asked one of the guardsmen of Antiope.

“A candy, Master,” she said.

“It is mine, Master,” I said.

“Please do not take it away from us,” said Antiope.

“Who would wish a candy which has been soiled by the mouth of a slave,” said a guardsman.

“You are dawdling slaves,” said the other. “You should be switched.”

“No, Master,” we assured them.

“The streets are dangerous,” said the first guardsman. “The curfew bar will sound in a bit.”

“Hasten to your cages,” said the other. “You will be safe there.”

“My master does not cage me,” said Antiope.

“Surely a manacle awaits,” said the first guardsman, “hoping to be warmed by your slender, lovely ankle.”

“Thank, you, Master,” said Antiope. “A slave is pleased, if she finds favor with a master.”

“Go,” said the first guardsman.

“Oh!” said Antiope.

“Oh!” I said.

Then we hurried on.

“He does not own me!” said Antiope, smarting.

“Nor the other, me,” I said.

Still, we knew such things were done only when a slave was found attractive. One supposed one should find some gratification, or reassurance, in that.

We were then about a corner, and out of the sight of the guardsmen.

“Give me the candy,” I said.

“I fear,” said Antiope, “it is gone.”

“I see,” I said. To be sure, we had been delayed by the guardsmen.

“But I will tell you a last thing,” said Antiope.

“What is that?” I said.

“Of all the killings, in the streets, men and women,” she said, “all were free.”

“No slave was set upon?” I said.

“No,” she said.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“I do not know,” she said.

“It is a coincidence,” I said.

“The attacks are commonly at night,” she said. “I think, then, slaves would be on their chains, in their kennels, in their cages, such housings.”

“That is doubtless it,” I said.

“But sometimes,” she said, “attacks are in the day, particularly in less frequented districts, and sometimes slaves are abroad at night.”

I supposed that were so.

Usually, of course, they would be in the company of their masters, or, say, keepers, if they might be returning late from feasts, serving slaves, flute slaves, kalika slaves, brothel girls, dancers, or such.

Too, it was not unknown for a neglected slave, if unconstrained, to prowl the streets, hoping for a secret tryst, to relieve her needs.

Sometimes, too, they might be dispatched under the cover of darkness to carry messages for their mistresses, pertaining to projected rendezvous.

To be sure, it was unusual for an unaccompanied slave to be abroad at night. But then, indeed, few, slave or free, if solitary, essayed the streets after dark, particularly in certain districts. One, if sufficiently affluent, and lacking his own men, might hire guards, and a lantern bearer. There were establishments to provide such a service. Too, such conveniences were sometimes available, gratis, to the clientele of certain residences. One such residence was Six Bridges.

“No slaves have been attacked?” I said.

“Not to my knowledge,” said Antiope.

I found that of interest.

“It will soon be curfew,” said Antiope.

We then wished one another well, and, bearing our laundries, took leave of one another.

Chapter Twelve

I dipped the first of the two buckets into the fountain of Aiakos, where I usually drew water. It is at the intersection of Clive and Emerald, and is the nearest fountain to the shop of Epicrates.

It, as many fountains, has two basins, water flowing first into the high basin, and then running over to the lower basin. As an animal I was permitted to drink only from the lower basin, but there was no difficulty in filling the buckets in the upper basin, and we invariably did so, as it was deeper and fresher. The water entered the fountain through eight spouts, oriented to the eight major points of the Gorean compass. Below each spout, on the adjacent stone rim, there are two shallow depressions, or worn areas, the one on the right deeper than that on the left. This difference takes place over generations, as right-handed persons tend to brace the right hand on the rim while leaning over to drink, and left-handed persons tend to place their weight on the left hand as they lean forward to drink. Similar worn places do not appear on the lower rim as slaves, sleen, kaiila, and such, are expected to drink while on all fours. The water is brought in from the Voltai Mountains, or Red Mountains, which at that time I had not seen, far north and east of Ar, by means of long, towering aqueducts, most of which are more than seven hundred pasangs long. The Builders, the “Yellow Caste,” one of the five castes commonly regarded as high castes, engineered these remarkable constructions, and are charged with their supervision, upkeep, and repair.