Marauders of Gor (34 page)

           
The soft flesh of the human female, I knew, was regarded as a delicacy among the Kurii.

           
"We have better uses for our bond-maids," said Svein Blue Tooth, "than to feed them to Kurii."

           
There was great laughter in the field.

           
I knew, however, that if such a levy was agreed upon, the girls would be simply chained and, like the cattle they would be given to the Kurii
 
march camps. Female slaves are at the mercy of their masters, completely.

           
But I did not expect men of Torvaldsland to give up female slaves. They were too desirable. They would elect to keep them for themselves.

           
"We will require, too," said the Kur, "one thousand male slaves, as porters, to be used, too, in their turn, as provlslons.

           
"And if all this be granted to you," asked Svein Blue Tooth, "what will you grant us in return?"

           
"Your lives," said the Kur.

           
There was much angry shouting. The blood of the men of Torvaldsland began to rage. They were free men, and free men of Gor.

           
Weapons were brandished.

           
"Consider carefully your answer, my friends," said the Kur. "In all, our requests are reasonable."

           
He seemed puzzled at the hostility of the men. He had apparently regarded his terms as generous.

           
And I supposed that to one of the Kurii, they had indeed been generous. Would we have offered as much to a herd of cattle that might stand between us and a desired destination?

           
I saw then the man of Ivar Forkbeard, whom he had earlier sent from his side, climbing to the platform. He carried a wooden bucket, and another object, wrapped in leather. He conferred with Svein Blue Tooth, and the Blue Tooth smiled.

           
"I have here," called Svein Blue Tooth, "a bucket of Sa-Tarna grain. This, in token of hospitality, I offer to our guest."

           
The Kur looked into the bucket, at the yellow grain. I saw the claws on the right paw briefly expose themselves, then, swiftly, draw within the softness of the furred, multiple digited appendage.

           
"I thank the great Jarl," said the beast, "and fine grain it is. It will be our hope to have such good fortune with our own crops in the south. But I must decline to taste your gift for we, like men, and unlike bosk, do not feed on raw grain."

           
The Jarl, then, took, from the hands of Ivar Forkbeard's man, the leather-wrapped object.

           
It was a round, flat, six-sectioned loafof Sa-Tarna bread.

           
The Kur looked at it. I could not read his expression.

           
"Feed," invited Svein Blue Tooth.

           
The Kur reached out and took the loaf. "I shall take this to my camp," it said, "as a token of the good will of the men of Torvaldsland."

           
"Feed," invited Svein Blue Tooth.

           
The two Kurii behind the speaker growled, soft, like irritated larls.

           
It made the hair on my neck rise to hear them, for I knew they had spoken to one another.

           
The Kur looked upon the loaf, as we might have looked on grass, or wood, or the shell of a turtle.

           
Then, slowly, he put it in his mouth. Scarcely had he swallowed it than he howled with nausea, and cast it up.

           
I knew then that this Kur, if not all, was carnivorous.

           
It then stood on the platform, its shoulders hunched; I saw the claws expose themselves; the ears were back flat against its head; its eyes blazed.

           
A spear came too close to it. It seized it, ripping it from the man, and, with a single snap of its teeth, bit the shaft in two, snapping it like I might have broken a dried twig. Then it lifted its head and, fangs wild, like a maddened larl, roared in fury. I think there was not a man in the field who was not, for that instant, frozen in terror. The roar of the beast must have carried even to the ships.

           
"Do we, free men of Torvaldsland," called our Svein Blue Tooth, "grant permission to the Kurii to traverse our land ?"

           
"No!" cried one man.

           
"No," cried others.

           
Then the entire field was aflame with the shouts of angry men.

           
"A thousand of you can die beneath the claws of a single Kur!" cried the Kur.

           
There were more angry shouting, brandishing of weapons. The speaker, the Kur, with the golden spiral bracelet, turned angrily away. He was followed by the two others.

           
"Fall back!" cried out Svein Blue Tooth. "The peace of the thing is upon them!"

           
Men fell back, and, between them, shambling, swiftly moved the three Kurs.

           
"We are done with them," said Ivar Forkbeard.

           
"Tomorrow," called Svein Blue Tooth, "we will award the talmits for excellence in the contests." He laughed. "And tomorrow night we shall feast!"

           
There was much cheering, much brandishing of weapons.

           
"I have won six talmits," Ivar Forkbeard reminded me.

           
"Will you dare to claim them?" I asked.
 

           
He looked at me, as though I might be mad. "Of course," said he, "I have won them."

           
In leaving the thing field I saw, in the distance, a high, snow-capped mountain, steep, sharp, almost like the blade of a bent spear.

           
I had seen it at various times, but never so clearly as from the thing field. I suppose the thing field might, partly, have been selected for the aspect of this mountain. It was a remarkable peak.

           
"What mountain is that?" I asked.

           
"It is the Torvaldsberg," said Ivan Forkbeard.

           
"The Torvaldsberg?" I asked.

           
"In the legends, it is said that Torvald sleeps in the mountain," smiled Ivar Forkbeard, "to awaken when, once more, he is needed in Torvaldsland."

           
Then he put his arm about my shoulder. "Come to my camp," said he. "You must still learn to break theJarl's Ax gambit."

           
I smiled. Not yet had I mastered a defense against this powerful gambit of the north.

           
Chapter 12
      
lvar Forkbeard introduces himself to Svein Blue Tooth

           
About my forehead were bound two talmits, one which I had won in wrestling, the other in archery.

           
The men of the Forkbeard, and many others, clapped me on the back. I was much pleased. On the other hand I was not certain that I had much longer to live. Soon it would come the time to award the talmits to the mysterious Thorgeir of Ax Glacier.

           
Two men of Svein Blue Tooth rose to their feet and silenced the crowd with two blasts on curved, bronze signal horns, of a sort often used for communication between ships. The men of Torvaldsland have in common a code of sound signals, given by the horns, consisting of some forty messages. Messages such as "Attack," "Heave to," "Regroup," and "Communication desired" have each their special combination of sounds. This sort ofthing is done moreeffectively, in my opinion, in the south by means of flags, run commonly from the prow cleats to the height of the stern castle. Flags, of course, are useless at night. At night ship's lanterns may be used, but there is no standardization in their use, even among the ships of a given port. There are shield signals, too, however, it might be mentioned, in Torvaldsland, though these are quite limited. Two that are universal in Torvaldsland are the red shield for war, the white for peace. The men of Torvaldsland, hearing the blasts on the bronze horns, were silent. The blasts had been the signal for attention.

           
On the wooden dais, draped in purple, set on the contest fields, in heavy, carved chairs, sat Svein Blue Tooth and his woman, Bera. Both wore their fnery. About them, some on the dais, and some below it, stood his high officers, and his men of law, his counselors, his captains, and the chief men from his scattered farms and holdings; too, much in evidence, were more than four hundred of his men-at-arms. In the crowd, too, in their white robes, were rune-priests.

           
Svein Blue Tooth rose to his feet, standing before the heavy, carved wooden chair. Bera remained sitting. About his neck, on its golden chain, hung the tooth of the Hunjer whale, dyed blue.

           
"Never in the history ofthe thing," called Svein, "has there
 
been so high a winner in the contests as he whom we now
 
proceed to honor."

           
I was not surprised that this was true.

           
Ivar Forkbeard had won six talmits.

           
He had won a talmit for climbing the "mast," a tall pole of needle wood; it was some fifty feet high, and was peeled and smoothed; he had won one for "leaping the crevice," which was actually a broadjump, performed on level ground; one for walking the "oar," which was actually a long pole; two in contests of the spear, one for distance and one for accuracy; and one in swimming. He had done less well in singing, poetry composition, rhyming and riddle guessing. He had come in, however, in second place in riddle guessing.

           
"This man," called out Svein Blue Tooth, obviously impressed, "has earned in these contests six talmits. Never in the history of the thing has there been so high a winner." Svein Blue Tooth was of Torvaldsland himself. He well understood the mightiness of the winner's exploits. It was rare for one man to win even two talmits. Thousands entered the contests. Only one, in each contest, could achieve the winner's talmit. "I distinguish myself, and enter into the history of our land," said the Blue Tooth, "in being the high Jarl to award these talmits in the games. As we honor this man we, in doing this, similarly do honor unto ourselves." This was cultural in Torvaldsland. One is regarded as being honored when one rightly bestows honor. It is not like one man taking some thing from another, so much as it is like an exchanging of gifts. To a somewhat lesser extent, it might be mentioned, this is also cultural in the south.

           
Svein Blue Tooth was obviously pleased that it had been in hisJarlship that six talrnits had been won at the thing by a single, redoubtable champion.

           
Ivar Forkbeard, large, robed in gray, hooded in gray, stood beside me. His features could not be well seen.

           
From a leather box, proffered to him by a high officer, who, too, had been the presiding official at the contests, Svein Blue Tooth lifted a fistful of talmits.

           
There was much cheering, much shouting, much lifting of weapons. Spear blades struck the surfaces of the round, painted, wooden shields.

           
There were steps leading to the dais.
 

           
"He who calls himself Thorgeir of Ax Glacier," proclaimed Svein Blue Tooth, "let him approach!"

           
Ivar Forkbeard eagerly bounded up the stairs toward the dais. There was not one of his men who did not tense, and reach to his weapons, reassuring himself as to their readiness, I looked about, considering the most opportune paths of flight.

           
If one is immersed in boiling tharlarion oil one dies quickly. On the other hand, if it is heated slowly, over a tiny fire, this same process consumes several hours. I studied the face of Svein Blue Tooth. I had little doubt that he was a patient man.

           
I shuddered.

           
Ivar Forkbeard, Thorgeir of Ax Glacier, now stood, hooded, on the top stair of the dais, before his enemy. I hoped that Svein Blue Tooth would simply hand him the talmits and he might rapidly back down, and we might run for the ship.

           
My heart sank.

           
It was obviously the intent of Svein Blue Tooth, himself, to honor this great winner, to bind on his forehead, with his own hands, the talmits.