Plunder of Gor (64 page)

“Yes,” he said, “and your back, belly, and legs should remind you of that.”

“They do,” I said.

“Good,” he said.

“Does Master care for Phyllis?” I asked.

“Not particularly,” he said.

“Would you,” I asked, “in such a situation, as that between Master Surtak and Lyris, have cast me from the bridge?”

“No,” he said.

“Then perhaps Master cares for Phyllis, a little,” I said.

“Of what use is a crushed, lifeless slave?” he asked. “I would not cast you from the bridge. I would sell you, for a handful of tarsk-bits, or whatever you are worth.” He then spoke to Lord Grendel. “They have their weapons by now,” he said. “And continue on their way.”

“Of course,” said Lord Grendel.

“Then we are safe,” said Kurik.

“I do not think so,” said Lord Grendel. His head was back, and his nostrils were wide.

“What do you smell?” asked Kurik.

“Kurii,” said Lord Grendel.

Chapter Fifty-Four

“What do you smell?” had asked Kurik.

“Kurii,” had said Lord Grendel.

“Let us hasten to our weapons,” said Kurik.

“It is no use,” said Lord Grendel. “They will have been upon them shortly after we abandoned them.”

“We are betrayed,” said Kurik, bitterly.

“Not really,” said Lord Grendel. “The rendezvous was fairly met, and the exchange conducted as agreed.”

“So this exhibits the honor of Surtak,” said Kurik.

“I do not see Surtak in this matter,” said Lord Grendel. “I see Lord Agamemnon.”

“Failing to win your oath by gifts and power, or by intimidation, threats, and guile,” said Kurik, “he would respond to your resistance with steel.”

“Do not think poorly of Lord Agamemnon,” said Grendel. “It is not his way to endure misfortune with equanimity.”

“He would make an example, it seems,” said Kurik, “of those who would brook his will.”

“Influence can be brought to bear in many ways,” said Lord Grendel.

“Doubtless,” said Kurik.

“He was the Eleventh Face of the Nameless One,” said Lord Grendel.

“We must withdraw,” said Kurik.

“Do not be foolish, dear friend,” said Lord Grendel. “If the way forward, toward our weapons, is blocked, the way back will be closed, as well. We are trapped on the bridge.”

“Phyllis,” said Kurik, “stay behind me, as you can. If there are men in this, it will be no more than a change of collar for you.”

“I do not want a change of collar!” I said.

“Be silent,” he said. “You are a slave. You are a beast, nothing. Understand that. It will be done with you as masters please.”

“Yes, Master,” I wept.

“I do not think there will be men in this,” said Lord Grendel.

“With the bow,” said Kurik, “I could charge them a high price for my life.”

“A bridge, in a high city,” said Lord Grendel, “is not a bad place to die. One feels the wind. One sees the towers, the clouds, the sky.”

“What of Eve?” asked Kurik.

“Poor Eve,” said Lord Grendel.

He then approached the beast, Eve, and gently, very tenderly, put his paw on her shoulder. “Forgive me, Beautiful Thing,” he said to her. “I spoke brutally to you, to convince Surtak that you were nothing to me, that he would not think of utilizing you in some way to influence me, as Lord Agamemnon tried to do with a free woman, she called ‘Bina', whom I protect and care for, as one might care for, and protect, an amoral, innocent, naive, wanton child. Know, lovely creature, that you are the dearest, most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. You are a thousand times more beautiful than Lyris, the most beautiful Kur female I have ever seen. In seeing you I am reconciled to myself.”

Eve regarded him, wide-eyed. “My eyes,” she said, “my hands, my voice.”

“Your eyes,” he said, “are beautiful, the gray, tinged with blue, the sky awakening in the early morning. Your hands are lovely. What matters it if you have five fingers and not six? Five is natural for you, as for many fine forms of life. Cannot five fingers hold, grasp, caress, and touch as well as six? Your voice is soft, and not harsh; it can utter Kur, and make human sounds, as well. It can do both. How many humans can speak in Kur, how many Kurii in the tongues of the humans?”

“I am a monster,” she said.

“You have been told so,” he said, “but you are not. You are merely different, as I am different. We bring two bloods together and, in doing so, become a new blood, strong, fine, and wondrous.”

“I am not ugly, I am not terrible?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “You are not ugly, you are not terrible. You are beautiful, you are fine.”

“I am afraid to see myself as I am,” she said.

“I see you as you are,” he said, “beautiful, and fine.”

“It cannot be,” she said.

“It is,” he said. “The mighty tarn soars in the sky, putting clouds beneath its wings. The larl rules the mountains and forests. Do not judge the tarn by the larl, or the larl by the tarn. The tarn is not a failed larl, nor the larl a tarn gone awry. Each is different. Each is magnificent, and right. You are not life gone wrong, but life born anew.”

Eve began to sob in his arms.

“Grendel,” said Kurik, “I can see, behind us, approaching on the bridge, Kurii.”

Lord Grendel rose up then to his full height, and looked back. In that moment there was something awesome, mighty, and fearfully Kurlike in his mien. “Yes,” he said, “six.”

“The two groups will trap us between them,” said Kurik, “those by our weapons, and those approaching.”

“Scarcely,” said Lord Grendel.

“I do not understand,” said Kurik.

“Do not fear, little Phyllis,” said Lord Grendel, looking down, towering over me. “If your collar is changed, it will be because your master decides to rid himself of you, to give you away or sell you, as is his right.”

I did not respond, but feared some disorder, occasioned by the hopelessness of our situation, had unsettled the mind of Lord Grendel. It was true, of course, that my master could do with me as he pleased. He was master. I was slave. On this world I was what I should be, and should have been, as well, on my former world, had it been naturally and rightfully ordered, property.

“We are lost,” said Kurik.

“Not at all,” said Lord Grendel.

“I do not understand,” said Kurik.

“You see the Kurii behind us,” said Lord Grendel. “It will take them some time to reach this point.”

“Doubtless,” said Kurik, looking back.

“You know, I assume,” said Lord Grendel, “that Kurii possess impressive weaponry.”

“Of course,” said Kurik.

“Gases, explosive substances, rays, and such.”

“I suppose so,” said Kurik. “I know little of it.”

“One such weapon,” said Lord Grendel, “could, in a matter of two or three Ihn, turn this bridge, and the cylinders it connects, into plunging, falling, air-scalding molten metal and stone.”

“I know little of such things,” said Kurik.

“But such things, surely, for the most part,” said Lord Grendel, “are on the steel worlds, or carried in the ships of the steel worlds.”

“The Kurii behind us grow nearer,” said Kurik.

“Did you know,” asked Lord Grendel, “that such devices still figure in wars amongst the steel worlds?”

“No,” said my master, looking back. “I did not know that wars might exist amongst the steel worlds.”

“Old habits,” said Lord Grendel, “are hard to break. I think sometimes the only thing that maintains the peace, such as it is, amongst the steel worlds, is the hope to obtain Gor.”

I had come to gather that the Kurii, those whose orbiting domiciles, far off, were concealed in the River of Stones, whatever that might be, coveted Gor.

“And what stands between the Kurii and Gor?” inquired Lord Grendel.

“The Priest-Kings,” said Kurik.

“And that is why,” said Lord Grendel, “we are going to live.”

“I do not understand,” said Kurik. He then looked back, again, uneasily. “Those approaching, I conjecture,” he said, “are some one hundred paces distant.”

“Few Kurii, on Gor,” said Lord Grendel, “will risk the bearing of a forbidden weapon. The laws of the Priest-Kings are strict. Their enforcement is merciless. Doubtless their surveillance, limited as to resources and interest, is incomplete and sporadic, but it exists. There have been several well-documented instances of the Flame Death. No, Kurii on Gor are very much aware, even more so than humans I suspect, of the Weapon and Technology Laws of the Priest-Kings and the hazards of contravening them. Many humans do not believe in the existence of Priest-Kings, supposing them to be no more than an invention of Initiates, to deprive the simple and trusting of their coins, but no Kur doubts their existence. Their evidence is irrefutable, destroyed fleets and devastated landing forces.”

“Those behind,” said Kurik, grimly, “are within fifty paces and approach in confident leisure.”

“Surely, dear Kurik,” said Lord Grendel, “you have been following what I have been saying.”

“I could not avoid it,” said Kurik.

“The purport,” said Lord Grendel, “is that the armament of our friends, those before us, and those behind us, is unlikely to be in violation of the laws of the Priest-Kings. It is almost certain to fall within the perimeters of permissible weaponry, knives, swords, pikes, spears, staffs, axes, and such, and most likely axes, for Kurii, like the men of Torvaldsland, are fond of the ax.”

“As are you,” said Kurik, continuing to look back.

Lord Grendel had left his ax behind when he had advanced to meet Surtak's party, to effect the exchange. Kurik, too, had left his weapons behind.

“In twenty paces,” said Kurik, “those behind will have reached this point.”

“And they will find it empty,” said Lord Grendel.

“How so?” asked Kurik.

I dared not look over the edge.

“We will first engage those before us,” said Lord Grendel, “for it is there our weapons lie.”

“They are armed,” said Kurik. “We will be unable to reach our weapons. We will be cut down. We have no weapons.”

“But we do have a weapon,” said Lord Grendel, “a most fearsome weapon, one that I, in their place, would not care to encounter, particularly on this narrow field of battle.”

I saw no ax, no staff, no club, not even a knife, in the grasp of Lord Grendel. Again I feared our predicament might have disordered his mind.

“You will please follow behind me,” said Lord Grendel to Kurik, “and, if possible, retrieve your bow. It may deter those behind. And you, dear, beautiful Eve, and you, Phyllis, pretty collared barbarian, follow us, and wish us well.”

“And where, dear friend, is your weapon?” asked Kurik.

“We will approach them at great speed, violent speed,” said Lord Grendel, “and beware the compass of my weapon, the spinning hurricane I will hold in my hands. Should it strike you you would be swept a hundred feet from the bridge.”

“Ai!” said Kurik, softly.

Lord Grendel reached down to the floor of the bridge and lifted up the heavy linkage of the chain that had lain, looped, seemingly discarded, at his feet. As it had held Lyris, it might, as well, have held a dozen male Kurii. I now realized that it had not been simply cast aside, as I had thought, but, in its looping, had been fashioned into a long, heavy cordage of iron, like a mountain's necklace, a necklace set with stones of iron, shackles, manacles, and the collar. This length he doubled, so that two strands hung together.

“You feared treachery,” said Kurik.

“I know Lord Agamemnon,” said Lord Grendel.

He then, with a wild cry, which I feared was a war cry of Kurii, the great chain spinning about, hissing in the air, almost invisible, a blur in the morning sky, rushed upon his startled foes.

Chapter Fifty-Five

The great cry that had rent the morning air, as Lord Grendel had rushed upon his foes, terrified me, in its sudden, unexpected, thunderous loudness, in its nearness, in its might and bestiality. For a moment afterwards it seemed I could hear nothing, as though lightning had struck near me, shattering a roof or tree, so frightening and deafening had been the sound. Too, I could not move, surely for an Ihn or two, for the moment in which I heard that cry, so close, and wild, I was shocked, paralyzed, immobile, frozen in place, despite the obvious need to hurry in his wake. Would not such a cry, as the roar of the larl, startle and momentarily immobilize a quarry, or foe, allowing for the rapid, unchallenged advance, the strike or pounce, of the predator, the assailant? I suspected it was an ancient cry, such as might well have antedated the working of metals, a cry that might have first been heard on a far world, one perhaps now destroyed or sterile, a cry that might have rung out in primitive, brutal combat, in small, isolated wars, fought between small groups with sharpened poles and stakes, with clubs and cast rocks.

I was almost pulled off my feet as Eve swept by and seized me, half dragging me behind Lord Grendel and Kurik. I heard bestial cries, too, from behind us, and a scratching of claws on the bridge's surface. Surely those behind us had now expedited their pace! The Kur is not only larger and more agile than a human but it can, for a short distance, outrun a human. It tends, however, unless trained, to have less stamina than a human. When not encumbered it falls to all fours and races on its feet and the knuckles of its forelimbs. It is, for short distances, capable of remarkable bursts of speed. Those about now, however, were armed, with axes, and thus could not use all their limbs in their running. The weight of the axes, too, and the great hafts, must militate against speed. Too, those behind had been climbing the arch of the bridge, a climb that would, I supposed, take its toll of wind and muscle. It is likely that humans, or their predecessors, after the loss of the forests, were pack hunters, who might pursue and harry a prey for pasangs, until it collapsed, exhausted, and the pack would close in for the kill. Much was doubtless learned from the wolf, with which species, and its scions, humans would form their bond of thousands of years.

The great chain, in its air-lacerating hiss, like a hurtling flail, an almost invisible scythe, each link an ax, struck two Kurii from the bridge, plunging, twisting, through the air, howling, to the street far below, and the four others fell back upon themselves, jumbled, half-fallen, impeding one another, and the chain lashed down on them, again and again, like fierce, black lightning and limbs were broken, and a head crushed. I was barely aware of Kurik, on hands and knees, crawling toward the weapons he and Lord Grendel had left on the bridge before advancing to the rendezvous. It was over these that the Kurii had taken their stand. Lord Grendel spun about. “Down!” cried Eve, and pulled me to the surface of the bridge. Lord Grendel, the chain dangling in his grasp, was regarding the Kurii who had been approaching from behind. They were now within five or six yards of us. Lord Grendel snarled. The chain hung easily in his grasp. He was breathing heavily. Clearly the pursuers had taken caution from what they could make of what had just occurred on the bridge. Their hitherto rapid pace had been arrested, abruptly. Lord Grendel turned back, seemingly to see the three remaining of the six who had held the bridge before us. Eve cried out in dismay but I think, truly, that Lord Grendel's apparent lapse of attention to those who had been behind us was not what it had seemed, given his swift turn, which preceded Eve's outcry, to face the Kur scrambling forward, from those behind, ax raised. The charging Kur was struck fully on the side of the neck by that storm of chain, and I screamed for the headless body, blood pumped by that mighty heart showering into the air, staggered toward us, two, and then three, steps, paws outstretched, and then fell before Lord Grendel, who swept the trunk through the blood with one huge, clawed foot, to the edge of the bridge, and then tumbled it over the edge. He then turned about, again, quickly, but of the three only one seemed a likely foe. One was clearly crippled, and must support his body with one foot, and his paws, his right leg useless, and another's arm flopped uselessly at his side. Neither had his ax. “I will watch!” called Kurik, who had now retrieved his bow, had drawn the cable, and fitted a quarrel to the guide. The bolt of such a weapon, whether metal or wood, well-lodged, can fell a Kur as easily as a man. The leader of the six who had followed us, now five, lowered his ax, and called out, in Kur. A brief exchange took place in Kur. “What is going on?” I asked Eve. “Leave is asked to pause, to negotiate,” said Eve. “Wait,” she said. “Grendel requests that the minion of Lord Agamemnon activate his translator, that his ally, the human, Kurik, may be apprised of what occurs.” I shortly thereafter saw the hand, or paw, of the Kur move to the translator. “It is only a human,” came from the translator. “But,” responded Lord Grendel, “it is a human armed, and a human armed is a human who must be reckoned with.” “As you wish,” came from the Kur's translator. “Speak,” said Lord Grendel. “I am authorized,” said the Kur, “to accept your oath, on behalf of Lord Agamemnon. Put down your weapon, advance unarmed, and swear.” “And then perish beneath five axes,” said Lord Grendel. “No,” said the other. “Surely not.” “Lord Agamemnon is generous,” said Lord Grendel. “As always,” said the Kur. “Were such an offer authentic,” said Lord Grendel, “it would have been tendered at the time of the exchange, by the officer, Surtak.” “We are six,” said the Kur, “five here, one behind you. You are one.” “Before,” said Lord Grendel, “you were twelve.” “If you care for those with you,” said the Kur, “the two humans, and the monster, surrender.” “I do care for them,” said Lord Grendel, “and thus I decline to surrender.” “Then,” said the Kur, “you leave me no choice.” “You are mistaken,” said Lord Grendel, “it is you who leave me no choice.” “I do not understand,” said the Kur. With a wild cry Lord Grendel, the chain aflight, was upon the Kurii. Eve clutched me, and looked away, and I buried my head in her fur. I heard cries of pain, and war, both ahead of us and behind us. There had been five Kurii behind us, those who had been approaching, but when I dared to look, the bridge was clear of bodies, save for one inert body, which I saw Lord Grendel, snarling, thrust from the bridge. “I am afraid of him,” said Eve. “He is Kur, Kur.” I rose to my feet. Kurik was standing, his bow discharged. “Master?” I asked. He faced three bodies, two were severed asunder, and the third lay on its back, just the metal fins of a quarrel visible in his chest. “The crippled two, I think,” said Kurik, “were ordered to attack, but either refused to do so, or were unable to do so. The third then put them to the ax.” “It is the Kur way,” said Eve, shuddering. “Kurii have no place in their dens for the old, the weak, the ill, the useless.” “Well done,” said Lord Grendel, coming up behind us. “One is unlikely to miss at this range,” said Kurik. Lord Grendel then approached Eve, who shrank back. He touched her with great tenderness. “Are you all right?” he asked. “You are Kur,” she said. “I saw.” “I am Grendel,” he said. “You are Eve. We are what we are.”

“I am afraid of you,” said Eve.

“I would die for you,” he said.

“I am still afraid of you,” she said.

“Would you prefer for me to pretend to be what I am not?” he asked.

“No,” she said, “but I am still afraid.”

Lord Grendel then, the chain in its two loops, in one hand, or paw, went to the three bodies left on the bridge.

One after another he thrust them from the bridge.

“Would Master similarly die for Phyllis?” I asked.

“Do not be ridiculous,” he said. “Phyllis is a slave. One would be better advised to die for an urt.”

“Perhaps Master cares for Phyllis, a little,” I said.

“I shall try to make it as little as possible,” he said.

“Then a little?” I said.

“No,” he said. “I have rethought the matter. Not even a little.”

“I see,” I said. I recalled he had put me behind him, before advancing, shielding me, averring that I would only be subjected to a change of collar, at least if men were to be amongst the pursuers.

“Phyllis is worthless,” he said. “That was clear even on the Slave World.”

“Yet,” I said, “it seems Phyllis was not without interest to Master, even on the Slave World.”

“Perhaps Phyllis would like to be lashed again,” he said.

“No, Master,” I said.

“But Phyllis, as others of her sort, has her uses,” he said.

“Perhaps Phyllis then,” I said, “as others of her sort, may hope to be soon put to one or more of her uses.”

“We shall see,” he said.

“The way is clear,” said Lord Grendel, calling to us. “Let us be on our way.”