Kajira of Gor coc-19

by John Norman

  There was much applause in the room. Drusus Rencius turned angrily away. He stood to one side, his fists clenched.

  “That is not the one whom the sleen selected,” said Hassan.

  Drusus Rencius spun about. “True!” he said.

  “May I speak?” inquired Ligurious.

  “Speak,” said Claudius.

  “I anticipated some difficulty in the matter of the sleen,” he said. “First of all, we must understand that the sleen are merely following a scent. They recognize a scent, of course, but not know, in a formal or legal sense, whose scent they are following. For example, a sleen can certainly recognize the scent of its master but it, being an animal, does not know, of course, whether its master is, say, a peasant or a Ubar. Indeed, many sleen, whereas they will respond to their own names, do not even know the names of their masters. I am sure the type of point I am making is well understood. Accordingly, let us suppose we now wish a sleen to locate someone, say, a Tatrix. We do not tell the sleen to look for a Tatrix. We give the sleen something which, supposedly, bears the scent of the Tatrix, and then the sleen follows that scent, no differently than it might the scent of a wild tarsk or a yellow-pelted tabuk. The crucial matter then is whether the sleen is set upon the proper scent or not. Now fifteen hundred gold pieces is a great deal of money. Can we not imagine the possibility, where so much money is at stake, that a woman closely resembling the Tatrix, as this woman, for example, might be selected as a quarry in a fraudulent hunt? It would not be difficult then, in one fashion or another, to set sleen upon her trail. A scrap of clothing would do, a bit of bedding, even the scent of a footprint. The innocent woman is then captured and, later, presented in a place such as this, the reward then being claimed.”

  Claudius, the Ubar of Argentum, turned to Hassan. “Your integrity as a hunter has been impugned,” he said.

  All eyes were upon Hassan.

  “I am not touchy on such matters,” said Hassan. “I am not a warrior. I am a businessman. I recognize the right of Claudius and the high council to assurances in these matters. Indeed, it is their duty, in so far as they can, to protect Argentum against deception and fraud. Much of what Ligurious, the former first minister of Corcyrus, has told you is true, for example, about sleen, and their limitations and utilities. These are, even, well-known facts. The crucial matter, then, would seem to be the authenticity of the articles used to provide the original scent. When I was in Corcyrus and I received from Menicius, her Administrator, clothing which had been worn by the Tatrix, I divided it into two bundles and had each sealed with the seal of Corcyrus. A letter to this effect, signed by Menicius, and bearing, too, the seal of Corcyrus, I also obtained. One of these bundles I broke open in Ar, and used it to locate and capture the former Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

  “She whom you claim is the former Tatrix,” said Ligurious.

  “Yes,” said Hassan.

  “Do you still have the second bundle, unopened, and the letter from Menicius, Administrator of Corcyrus, in your possession?” asked Claudius of Hassan.

  “I anticipated these matters might be sensitive,” said Hassan. “Yes.”

  Hassan was truly a professional hunter. I had heard the name ‘Menicius’ somewhere before, but I could not place it.

  He, whoever he might be, was now apparently Administrator in Corcyrus.

  Claudius regarded Hassan.

  “I will fetch them,” said Hassan, rising to his feet.

  “I, too, have clothing from Corcyrus,” said Ligurious, “but it is authentic clothing, clothing actually once worn by the true Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

  “Please be so kind as to produce it in evidence,” said Claudius.

  “I will be back shortly,” said Ligurious.

  “Bring guard sleen and meat,” said Claudius to one of the guards in the room.

  In a few Ehn Hassan and Ligurious had returned. Too, but moments later, two sleen, with keepers, had entered the hall. The feast slaves and dancers shrank back against the walls. Such beasts are used to hunt slaves.

  I, too, shrank back, fearfully, in my chains. I, too, was a slave.

  “As you will note,” said Hassan to Claudius and the high council, “the seal on this bundle has not been broken. Here, too, is the letter from Menicius.”

  The letter was examined. Claudius himself then broke the seal on the bundle and handed clothing to one of the sleen keepers. One soldier came and crouched down behind me, holding me from the back by the upper arms. Another so served Sheila, to my left. We were not to be permitted to move from our places. I saw one of the keepers holding the clothing beneath the snout of one of the sinuous, six-legged beasts.

  The specific signals between masters and sleen, signals which, in effect, convey such commands as “Attack”, “Hunt”, “Stop”, “Back,” and so on, are usually verbal and private. Verbality is important, as many times the sleen, intent upon a scent, for example, will not be looking at the master.

  The privacy of the signals is important to guarantee that not just anyone can start a sleen on a hunt or call one away from it. The signals to which they respond, then, are idiosyncratic to the given beast. They are generally not unique however, to a given man and beast. For example, in an area where there are several sleen and several keepers, the keepers are likely to know the signals specific to the given beasts. In his fashion any beast may be controlled by any of the associated trainers or keepers. These signals, too, are usually kept written down somewhere. In this fashion, if a keeper should be slain, or change the locus of his employment, or something along those lines, the beast need not be killed.

  Suddenly the beast, on its chain leash, leapt towards us. Sheila and I screamed, pulling back. I actually felt the body of the beast, its oily fur, the muscles and ribs beneath it, brush me, lunging past me. Sheila tried to scramble back, wild in her chains, but, held, could not do so. She threw her head back, her eyes closed, sobbing and screaming, begging the masters for mercy. The frenzied sleen tried to reach Sheila. Its claws scratched and slipped on the tiles. It snapped and bit at her, its eyes blazing, its fangs, long, wild, white, moist, curved, gleaming, were but inches from her enslaved beauty.

  A word was spoken. The sleen drew back. It was thrown meat. Sheila, her eyes glazed, hair before her face, looked numbly at the animal. She was still held by the soldier. Had she not been I think she might have slumped to the tiles How helpless we are, naked and in our chains, before masters. How they can do with us whatever they wish!

  “The clothing with which the sleen was put on the scent of the woman on our right could have been imbued with her scent at any time, of course,” said Ligurious. “For example, it could have been put in the sack with her for a night, when she was being brought to Argentum. I have here, however and I now break the seal, clothing which is actually that of the former Tatrix of Corcyrus. See? Already she cringes and shrinks back. She knows that by this clothing she will be exactly and incontrovertibly identified as the former true Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

  I watched in horror as Ligurious tossed the clothing, piece by piece, to one of the sleen keepers.

  One of the pieces was the brief, sashed, yellow-silk robe I had been fond of. It was the first garment I had ever worn on Gor.

  “That one garment,” said Miles of Argentum, indicating a scarlet robe, with a yellow, braided belt, “appears to be that in which she put her curves on the day of my audience with her, that having to do with the scrolls of protest.”

  “It is,” Ligurious assured him.

  I also saw there garments which looked like those I had worn to the song drama with Drusus Rencius, and had worn later with him on the walls of Corcyrus.

  “Surely you recognize that garment?” asked Ligurious, indicating a purple robe with golden trim, and a golden belt. “Yes,” said Miles of Argentum. “That is the garment she wore when she was captured.”

  “By you,” said Ligurious.

  “Yes, by me,” said Miles.

  “But she did not wear it lon
g, did she?” asked Ligurious. “No,” he grinned. There was laughter from the tables.

  I did not doubt but what these garments were genuine. The last garment, for example, was undoubtedly really that which had been taken from me in the throne room of Corcyrus, before the very throne itself, before I had been taken naked and In chains outside, into the courtyard, to be placed in a golden cage. These garments, Ligurious had informed me in the throne room of Argentum, before placing me in the golden sack, from which I had been rescued by Drusus Rencius, had been smuggled out of Corcyrus. He had probably paid much to obtain them.

  The last pieces were all items of intimate feminine apparel, which had been worn next to my body.

  I was embarrassed to see them. Now that I was a slave, of course, I would have been grateful to have even so much to wear publicly. But when I had worn them they had been the garments of a free woman. Thus, when I saw them now it was as one who had once been a free woman that I was embarrassed. Few free women care to have their intimate garments exhibited publicly before men.

  I then saw the sleen, a different sleen, thrust its snout deeply into the pile of garments. I could hear it snuffling about in them. I saw the keeper, too, take the intimate garments, wadded in his hand, and thrust them beneath the animal’s snout. He then held one of the longer, slip-like garments open from the bottom, and, to my horror, I saw the beast, sniffing and growling, thrust its snout deeply into the garment. My scent, from my intimacies, would doubtless be strongest in such a place.

  I shrank back, even further. The hands of the soldier behind me, on my arms, forbade me further retreat.

  In a moment the sleen leaped forward. I closed my eyes and screamed. I felt the hot breath of the animal on my breasts. I seemed surrounded by its snarling. I heard the scratching and slipping of its claws on the tiles, the rattle and tightening, and rattle and tightening, again, of the links of the chain leash, in its lunges toward me. I sensed its force, its terribleness, its eagerness. I heard the snapping of its jaws. Could the keeper judge the distances unerringly? Could he hold the animal? What if the chain broke?

  I opened my eyes. In that instant the beast was again lunging toward me. In that instant, in a flash, I saw the cavernous maw, the fangs, the long, dark tongue, the blazing eyes, the intentness, the single-mindedness, the power, the eagerness of the beast. I threw back my head and screamed miserably. “Pity!” I begged. “I beg mercy, my masters!” I cried, a terrified slave, addressing them all, in my terror, as though they might be my legal masters.

  Then the sleen, with a word, was withdrawn, and thrown meat. I trembled. Were it not for the hands of the soldier behind me, on my arms, I might have collapsed. I saw Drusus Rencius looking at me with scorn. I did not care. I was not a warrior. I was a girl, and a slave.

  “Thus, you see,” said Ligurious, “who was the true Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

  “Each woman, it would seem,” said Claudius, “has been identified as such, one in virtue of the articles of Hassan and one in virtue of the articles with which you have furnished us.”

  “Examine the seals,” said Ligurious, triumphantly. “See which bears the true seal of Corcyrus!”

  The broken seals were brought to Claudius. He put them on the table before him. Members of the high council crowded about him.

  “The seal broken from the package of Ligurious,” he said, “is the seal of Corcyrus.”

  “That cannot be,” said Hassan.

  “Perhaps you will be given two Ahn in which to leave Argentum,” said Ligurious.

  “I have the letter from Menicius!” said Hassan.

  “It, too, doubtless, will bear the same seal as was on the package,” said Ligurious.

  “Yes,” said Hassan.

  “I, too, have such a letter, but a genuine one,” said Ligurious, “describing and authenticating the garments I have produced for you. That letter bears the signature of Menicius and is marked with the true seal of Corcyrus.” He reached within his robes and produced a letter, wrapped with a ribbon, the ribbon and the flaps of the letter secured with a melted disk of wax, this wax bearing the imprint of a seal.

  The seal was examined.

  “It is the seal of Corcyrus,” said Claudius.

  The letter was opened and examined.

  “The descriptions tally with the garments brought to us by Ligurious,” said one of the members of the high council.

  “Who has signed the letter?” inquired Ligurious.

  “Menicius,” said one of the members of the high council, looking up.

  “I think not,” said a voice.

  All eyes turned to the back of the room. There, the guest who had been hooded rose to his feet.

  “Who would dare to gainsay me in this?” inquired Ligurious.

  With two hands the guest brushed back his hood.

  “I think that I am known to several in this room,” he said. “Some of you were present at my investiture as Administrator of Corcyrus.”

  “Menicius!” cried more than one man.

  Ligurious staggered backwards.

  “My dear Ligurious,” said Menicius, “your confederate in Corcyrus is now in custody. He has confessed all. I deemed, accordingly, it might be of interest to venture incognito to Argentum. I did so with the papers of a minor envoy, bearing my own signature.”

  How startled I was! I now recognized, and clearly, the hitherto unknown guest. I had known him as Menicius, of the Metal Workers. He was the man whose life I had spared when he had spoken out so forcibly against the Tatrix, on that day, so long ago, when I had been in the palanquin with Ligurious, that day in which, in the glory of a state procession, we had been carried through the streets of Corcyrus. Doubtless Drusus Rencius, who had prevented him from reaching the palanquin, remembered him well, for his courage and his opposition to the rule of the Tatrix.

  “I was interested to hear that you were the leader of the opposition to the rule of the Tatrix,” said Menicius to Ligurious. “I, myself, had thought that that honor was mine.” Ligurious looked about himself. He took one or two steps backward.

  “I suggest that that man be put in shackles,” said Menicius. “Do it,” said Claudius. Two guardsmen moved swiftly to Ligurious. In a moment his wrists had been shackled behind him.

  “The seals,” said Menicius, “on the package and letter of Hassan were genuine. It is natural, however, that they were unfamiliar to you. They are imprints of the new seal of Corcyrus. It was discovered, after the institution of the new regime in Corcyrus, that the old seal was missing. Presumably it had been taken by Ligurious in his flight from the city. That now seems evident. For this reason, and also to commemorate the rise of a new order in Corcyrus, it was changed.”

  Ligurious, shackled, looked down at the tiles.

  Menicius came about the tables. He stopped before Sheila and myself. We, slaves, put our heads to the tiles. “Lift your heads, Slaves,” he said. We complied.

  “We meet again,” said Menicius to me.

  “Yes, Master,” I said.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “My master is Miles of Argentum,” I said. “He has named me ‘Sheila.’”

  “You look well in slave chains, Sheila,” he said.

  “Thank you, Master,” I said.

  He turned to Sheila. “Who are you?” he asked. “My master is Hassan, of Kasra,” she said. “He has named me ‘Sheila.’”

  “You look well in slave chains, Sheila,” he said.

  “Thank you, Master,” she said.

  He then, from his robes, removed a package and, opening it, exhibited soft and silken contents.

  She drew back, shuddering in her chains.

  “These are further garments from Corcyrus,” he said “They were taken from among the belongings of the Tatrix of Corcyrus, found in her suite of rooms in the palace.” He turned to regard Sheila. “Perhaps, you recognize them?” he asked.

  “Admit nothing!” called Ligurius.

  “Consider the nature of the
se garments,” he said. “They are clearly, in a fashion, slave garments. This may be determined from their lightness, their softness and thinness. On the other hand, there are some anomalies here. For example, note that here there is a nether closure. That would certainly be unusual in a garment permitted by a Gorean master to a female slave.”

  There was laughter here.

  “They are barbarian garments,” he said. The garments he was exhibiting to those at the tables were undergarments of sorts common to free women of Earth. I had not really thought before, of how feminine they were and how appropriate to slaves. Who but a slave would permit such delicious delicate and silken things to touch their bodies?

  “But few barbarian girls, as nearly as we can tell, come to Gor clothed and, if they do, they are seldom permitted to retain their clothing, or the bits of clothing left to them at that point, past the sales block, on which, one supposes, it might be removed from them.”

  There was some acknowledgement of this from the tables. There is a Gorean saying that only a fool buys a woman clothed.

  “The Tatrix of Corcyrus, on the other hand, though a barbarian, was apparently permitted to keep this clothing. Similarly she was permitted to keep her freedom. That was removed from her only recently by Hassan of Kasra.”

  Men at the tables looked at one another.

  “Some of us,” said Menicius, “are familiar with the rumors, the frightening rumors, that there are forces on Gor and elsewhere, who would challenge the power of the Priest Kings themselves, rulers of Gor from time immemorial.

  Men looked at one another, fearfully. Sometimes it seemed likely to me that the Priest-Kings were mythical entities. Surely they mixed, as far as I could tell, little in the affairs of Gor. On the other hand, it was also clear to me that someone, or something, must be in opposition to the forces which had brought me to Gor. Those forces, for example, had mastered space flight. Surely Goreans, with their swords and spears, by themselves, could not have resisted them. Their clandestine efforts, for all their power, suggested the existence of a formidable counter-power. That counter-power, I suppose, for want of a better name, might be referred to as that of Priest-Kings.