Kur of Gor (91 page)

"Yes, Master."

"And that permission is rarely, if ever, granted."

"Yes, Master."

"Did your master give you that permission?"

"No, Master."

"And he will not do so."

"Yes, Master."

"The names of free persons are not to be soiled in such ways, by appearing on the lips of slaves."

"No, Master. Forgive me, Master."

"Your faults,” said Cabot, “are numerous and heinous."

"Yes, Master."

"Perhaps you think you are a free woman?"

"No, Master, I do not think I am a free woman!"

"What are you, then?"

"A slave, Master, a slave!"

"Anything else?"

"No, Master, only that! Nothing else. Only that!"

"And most seriously,” said Cabot, “and as you have acknowledged, you did something preposterously foolish, something incomprehensibly stupid, the seriousness of which I doubt you understood, something the gravity of which you, unfamiliar with your collar, no more than an ignorant, naive slut, fresh from Earth, newly under the whip, could perhaps not even have begun to comprehend, something foredoomed to failure, impossible of success, something fraught with inevitable and profound peril, something of which an informed, knowledgeable girl, aware of her collar, and its meaning, and the realities of her world, would not even dare to think."

"I was angry,” she said. “I was foolish. I made a terrible mistake. I did not know any better. I fled."

"What could you have accomplished, other than perhaps to fall into the power of another master?"

"Nothing, Master,” she said.

"Perhaps you thought you might escape,” said Cabot.

"I did not even think,” she whispered.

"There was no escape for you,” said Cabot.

"No, Master,” she said.

"I gather you now know that,” he said.

"Yes, Master,” she said. “I know that now. I am branded and collared, and am a slave. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to go. Even were I to escape one master I would fall to another. I am slave, and must remain so. This world will have it so."

"And so would Gor,” said Cabot.

"Gor?” she said.

"It is a world more beautiful than you can imagine,” said Cabot.

"And on that world would I, too, be a slave?"

"More securely and perfectly, and more helplessly, than you could conceive,” said Cabot. “On Gor they know what to do with Earth women."

"As on Earth they do not?"

"Yes,” said Cabot, “as on Earth they do not."

"Will you take me to Gor?"

"Perhaps,” said Cabot. “Certainly there are better markets for selling you on Gor."

"
Selling me
?"

"Yes,” said Cabot. “You are a slave."

"Please do not sell me, Master!” she cried, lifting her head.

But then, as she lifted her head, her eyes suddenly widened, and she flung a small hand before her mouth, and screamed, shrinking back.

Cabot turned, in an unhurried fashion, and picked up the ax, and rose to his feet, to face Flavion.

"My dear Flavion,” he said.

"Lord Flavion,” said Flavion.

Flavion carried a Kur ax. It was of solid metal, and of a piece. A human could not easily lift such a tool, let alone put it to practical use.

"I have been waiting for you,” said Cabot.

"You were a fool to not face the gate, and to leave it open,” said Flavion.

"How better to lure you within?” asked Cabot.

The slave, at a gesture from Cabot, scrambled, on all fours, to the side.

"You positioned the slave, that you might be warned,” said Flavion. The slave, it may be recalled, had faced the gate. But in her misery, distracted, sobbing, her head down, scarcely daring to raise her eyes from the dirt, she had not immediately detected the presence of the Kur.

"No,” said Cabot, “your left foot drags in the dirt. This scratching, this slow scuffling sound, which you so vainly tried to conceal, is as readily detected as the stroke of a broom, the dragging of a rake."

"The sleen let me pass,” said Flavion.

"Of course,” said Cabot. “You were once of this camp, and so you would be admitted, as before."

"You counted on that?"

"Certainly,” said Cabot.

"I could have killed it,” said Flavion, lifting the ax a bit.

"How easily he handles that tool,” thought Cabot.

"That is possible,” said Cabot, “if you knew it was about, were expecting an attack, and such."

"But I came through, without difficulty."

"As I wished,” said Cabot.

"I think you are mad,” said Flavion.

"Should you raise that weapon against me,” said Cabot, “you have repudiated the amnesty."

"You are a fool,” said Flavion, “to rely on the amnesty for your security. Do you truly think I would fear to violate it, here, far from the habitats, here, in the forest?"

"My intention,” said Cabot, “is not to rely on the amnesty for my security, but rather that matters be so arranged that I may see it explicitly repudiated."

"None will know,” said Flavion, “or none who matter,” he added, glancing to the slave, crouched fearfully to the side.

"Run!” cried Cabot to the slave, and pointed to the opened gate.

With a cry of misery she sprang to her feet and ran toward the gate.

Flavion intercepted her, seizing one arm by which she was swung about, and hurled yards away, tumbling over and over in the dirt.

Doubtless Cabot wished that the slave might have reached the safety of the forest, a desiderated outcome, where she might, a fleet, collared human female, have managed to elude a lame Kur, but he was not surprised when she failed to do so.

He had, of course, gathered some intelligence from her attempt. The Kur, despite his lameness, had moved with great agility. This was noted by Cabot, and gave him a better idea of what he might expect from such a foe.

"Ah, dear Flavion,” said Cabot, “you are quicker than I might have supposed."

"Lord Flavion,” said Flavion.

Cabot shrugged, and watched while Flavion went to the gate, swung it shut, and secured it shut. It would take some moments to undo that latching.

Flavion then stood before the gate, his back to it, and regarded Cabot.

"You are a fool to have come here alone,” said Flavion. The slave, of course, did not count.

"I did not think you would care to resume your games amongst the habitats,” said Cabot.

"If necessary, I would have,” said Flavion. “I owe you much."

"Was it you who threw a knife, in a feast?” asked Cabot.

"That would not have been enough for me,” said Flavion. “That cast was flung to a wall by a drunken rowdy, to test the balance of a throwing blade, offered to him by another rowdy, another drunken ruffian, for a coin, both killer humans. I feared only it might strike you."

"I appreciate your solicitude,” said Cabot.

Killer humans, successful in the arena, were awarded coins, with which they might purchase women, commonly penned naked within their view, prizes awaiting the victorious. This is not that unusual on Gor, either, I am told, that a successful arena fighter, say, may be awarded a lovely slave. On Gor, however, as I understand it, she is not purchased but bestowed, rather as might be a wreath, or a piece of gold. The killer humans, then, had this additional difference, or advantage, that they might, out of a pool of women, buy she who might most please them. The female, of course, had no choice as to who might purchase them, no more than other slaves. They could, of course, through the bars, attempt to interest one male more than another, hoping that he might then spend his coins accordingly. Gorean slaves, exhibited on slave shelves, often behave similarly, eager to be purchased by a particular master, perhaps a handsome fellow whose eye they hope to catch. And their owners, the merchants, might upon occasion indicate a particular fellow in the crowd, who looks well robed and affluent, to be accosted with posings, assurances of pleasure, the customary “Buy me, Master,” solicitation, and such. To be sure, the master's choice might not be the slave's choice, but she does not wish to feel his whip either. The women of the killer humans, it might be noted, were not expended in the arena, nor trained in any form of combat or weaponry. They existed merely to encourage greater diligence and zest in the males, that they might have an additional motivation for success in the arena. They were commonly taught to go to all fours before males, to be neck-roped, and such. They were subject, like cattle, to the will of the male. It maybe recalled that Cestiphon, the leader of his group of killer humans, had four such women. The killer humans, now, of course, the males, were no longer arena animals matched for the sport of Kurii. They were now, the males, free men, dangerous, formidable, and armed. No longer pitted against one another in blood sport they had become comrades in arms. Many would in time seek their fortunes on Gor. The women, of course, as suggested earlier, were to be much improved by the refinements of civilization, cleanliness, grooming, brands, collars and such. The filth, neck-ropes, and sticks of their savage condition had now been well superseded. For example, a collar and chain is a considerable improvement over a neck-rope, which might be chewed through. In time Cabot did not doubt but what many of the women of the killer humans, who were very lovely, would be indistinguishable on a slaver's necklace from their hitherto more-civilized sisters. After the loosing of the killer humans in the revolution coins would be of less import as the women might then, man against man, or group against group, be fought for openly. The number of women on a fellow's rope, or a group's rope, would then become a mark of prestige, rather as the number of kaiila in one's herd, or in one's tribe's herds, would become a mark of wealth and status amongst the warriors of the Red Savages. To be sure, they might also keep white women, in their beaded collars, identifying their masters, as slaves. Coins, of course, were not now unknown, either, amongst the killer humans. Many a slain Kur's pouch had been rifled for such goods.

"Do you think you can stand against a Kur, with an ax?” asked Flavion.

"I do not know,” said Cabot.

"First,” said Flavion, “I will cut off your left foot, that in vengeance for what you did to mine. Then I will cut off your right foot. Then your left hand, and then your right hand. I will try to staunch the bleeding, for a time. Then, when it pleases me, and I am tired of your screams and pleas, I will open your stomach and hang you from the gate by your own intestines."

"I am impressed,” said Cabot, “that you have given some thought to the matter."

"A great deal of careful and delicious thought,” said Flavion. “I owe you much."

"Spare the slave,” said Cabot.

"Who would kill an animal, which has some value?” asked Flavion.

"Indeed,” agreed Cabot.

"She is, I gather,” said Flavion, “the sort of thing which is not without interest to human males."

"To some human males,” said Cabot.

The animal was to the side. She had risen to all fours, and was regarding the males fearfully.

"I have ascertained, from human males,” said Flavion, “men of Peisistratus, that she might well bring in the neighborhood of two silver tarsks."

"Perhaps on a good day,” said Cabot.

"Too,” said Flavion, “I gather that such things have been done to her that she, no longer capable of controlling herself, will now leap obediently in the arms of any human male."

"Commanded, properly caressed,” said Cabot.

A sob escaped the slave.

"It is true,” said Cabot to her, sharply.

"Yes, Master,” she said.

"She is a slave,” said Cabot, matter-of-factly.

"I will take her to Gor with me, to sell her,” said Flavion.

"You must obtain her, first,” said Cabot.

"Of course,” said Flavion.

"I see you have your pouch,” said Flavion. “And there is a pack, too, if I am not mistaken. Perhaps you have some rubies left, from the trial of Lord Pyrrhus."

"Yes,” said Cabot, “several."

"Why not offer them to me, to buy your life?” suggested Flavion.

"Would they suffice?” inquired Cabot.

"Who knows?” said Flavion.

"To what purpose might they be put?” asked Cabot.

"On Gor,” said Flavion, “we will form a new enclave of Kurii, unreconciled adherents of Lord Agamemnon."

"You will join them?"

"I will lead them."

"As rubies are rare,” said Cabot, “and valuable, I doubt that you would choose to dispose of them here, in the world. There might be questions raised, as to their provenance, whence they were obtained, such things."

"True,” said Flavion. “But on Gor, you see, they will be unquestioned, and, on a street of coins, will have great value."

"You, and some others, then, will buy passage to Gor?"

"I, and several,” said Flavion. “Do not fear, we have the coins. We find ourselves unwelcome in the habitats. Political reservations obtain against us. Gor will be better for us, more open, providing some advantages denied us here, affording us greater opportunities for political activity, more scope for intrigue and ambition. In our plans the rubies will obviously have their role."

"But you must obtain them, first,” said Cabot.

"Of course,” said Flavion, “but I anticipate no difficulty in that regard."

"I would suppose that there must be already on Gor some such enclaves as you mention, doubtless established there in the past by Agamemnon, long before the war, to assist in his several projects."

"For a human, you are perceptive,” said Flavion.

"You will make contact with them?"

"Certainly."

"But will form, as well, a new enclave."

"Of course,” said Flavion, “for I must be first, I must be leader."

"Lord Flavion?” said Cabot.

"Yes,” said Flavion. “Lord Flavion."

"Shall we adjudicate our differences now?” inquired Cabot.

"Would you not like, first, to kneel before me, offer me rubies, plead for your life, and such?"

"No,” said Cabot.

"If you plead nicely, I might be persuaded to finish you quickly,” said Flavion.

"Let us fight,” said Cabot.