Rebels of Gor

by John Norman

  I had doubted that that was true.

  Tajima had speculated that Lord Yamada, in defeat, would have had recourse to the ritual knife.

  This, too, had been doubted, by Nodachi.

  If Lord Yamada was dead, it seemed the contest, if it existed, betwixt wagering Priest-Kings and Kurii had been decided. I knew not what this might bode for the future of Gor. Indeed, I was not clear on which side either force had placed its wager. Did Priest-Kings favor Lord Temmu or Lord Yamada? Which, if either, was favored by Kurii? Surely both Kurii, or some Kurii, and Priest-Kings, or some Priest-Kings, had collaborated in the readying of, and the flight of, the iron dragon. It seemed Kurii, or some Kurii, might have favored Lord Temmu, as I had been brought within his compass on a northern beach long ago, in a ship departed from a steel world. But was this in virtue of an agreement between Priest-Kings and Kurii? Tiny bits of evidence suggested one interpretation, and tiny bits of evidence suggested another. Perhaps, for all I knew, there was no wager, only the suspicion of, or the rumor of, a wager. And if there was a wager, I had no assurance that its outcome would be respected by either Priest-Kings or Kurii. Were these not independent, powerful, sovereign species, under no shared law, subject to no common sovereign, capable of imposing its will, but rather stood opposite one another in a state of nature, rather as two larls might face one another, snarling, contesting territory. And who would presume to give law to the savage larl?

  She who had been the Lady Kameko was outside, in the corridor, kneeling, bent over, bound. The name ‘Kameko’ had been put on her, as a slave name. The tie in which she had been placed was an efficient and familiar slave tie. In it the slave leash is utilized. The slave is knelt. Her head is to the floor and the leash is taken back, before and under her body, and then used, tautly, to tie her ankles together. By the taut leash her head is held in place, tightly, down to the floor. Her wrists were left as they had been, tied behind her back. One has then, before one, a helpless, aesthetically attractive, compact slave package or bundle, so to speak. It is a tie in which a woman is in little doubt that she is a slave.

  “We have not found Haruki,” I said.

  “He is in the garden, at work,” said Nodachi.

  “Even in a time of madness, dissolution, the failure of discipline, of social and military chaos?” I said.

  “It is well that the garden be tended,” said Nodachi.

  “Does he know that you are free?” I asked.

  “No,” said Nodachi.

  “You think that Lord Yamada remains in the palace?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Nodachi. “He is shogun.”

  “Perhaps you think he will come here, to revel in his trophies?” I asked.

  “To console himself with past glories?” asked Tajima.

  “Lord Yamada is shogun,” said Nodachi. “He looks to the future.”

  “He has no future, Master,” said Tajima.

  “He will then die, attempting to bring it about,” said Nodachi.

  I was uneasy in the trophy room, and Pertinax sat near the door, so to speak, where we had pivoted the wall.

  I thought the air was better there, near the corridor.

  The former Lady Kameko, now Kameko, was, as noted, outside, in the corridor, where she would await the pleasure of masters. Pertinax had removed her clothing before binding her.

  Slaves are animals, and animals need not be clothed.

  There were, I conjectured, more than two hundred heads in the trophy room, on shelves, on tables, suspended from the ceiling. The air in the trophy room was oppressive with the perfumes used to preserve, and anoint, the heads. The long black hair of each was oiled and combed carefully. The teeth of several had been dyed black, which, in the eyes of some, particularly high ladies, I had learned, is accounted a beautification, a fashionable and aristocratic embellishment, an enhancement of charms, rather, I suppose, like the drug-dilated pupils of Renaissance ladies, or, depending on the culture, whitening powders, rouges, lipsticks of motley colors, eye shadows, and other variations of cosmetic ingenuity. The eyes of several of the heads had been replaced with jewels or precious stones, mostly, it seemed, jade.

  “The palace is large,” I said.

  “Lord Yamada will be in the room of the great dais,” said Nodachi, “in the prime audience chamber, where taxes and tributes are presented, where vassal daimyos are received.”

  “He is not hiding?” I said.

  “Lord Yamada does not hide,” said Nodachi.

  “But you are here,” I said.

  “I have been waiting for you,” he said. “Arm yourselves.”

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  What Occurred in the Audience Chamber

  “Greetings, great and noble lord,” said Nodachi, bowing. “I have come to kill you.”

  The audience chamber, though I had not seen it before, probably because it was reserved for formal occasions, state functions, and such, was surely a centerpiece in the palace of Lord Yamada. It was a large room, spacious, and deep. The dais was a foot or so above the level of the general flooring. The boards of the flooring, and those of the dais, were of dark, polished wood, and the walls, also of dark wood, were ornamented by numerous characters, designs, and images of light wood, inlaid in the darker wood. The characters were in Pani script, in which they transcribe Gorean, rather as those in the Tahari transcribe Gorean in their own flowing script. These characters were unintelligible to me. The designs seemed on the whole, to me, swirling and abstract, though they may have been meant to suggest the surging of waves and the curling, startling movements of wind. The images were of natural objects, such as trees, flowers, and animals, predominantly birds, and, amongst them, predominantly, of water fowl. The dais itself was sternly severe. There were various portals in the room through which it might be entered or left. Nodachi had entered through the main portal, facing the dais, walked to the dais, bowed, and politely announced himself. The light in the chamber seemed poor to me. It was supplied by small lamps, some of which were mounted in the walls, and some of which hung from the ceiling, descending, in some cases, to within a yard or so of the floor. One would, in such a case, move carefully amongst them. Perhaps they were intended to illuminate small tables about which one might sit, cross-legged. But there were no such tables in the room now. Given the lighting, I would not, personally, have preferred such a venue for the work of steel. Better an open court, on an overcast day, where one need not be concerned with the glare of the sun. Occasionally there was a screen in the room, near the walls, which screens were decorated rather in the fashion of the walls, save that the screens were paneled with silk, and the images, and such, were painted on the silken panels.

  “How dare you, magician, and charlatan,” said Lord Yamada, “enter my presence unannounced?”

  “Forgive me, great lord,” said Nodachi, “but I announced myself.”

  Lord Yamada sat cross-legged on the dais, richly and formally robed, as though holding court, as though he might be expecting a loyal daimyo or some petitioning ambassador, and not vengeful, deadly enemies, perhaps hundreds, to appear before him.

  “The house of Yamada has fallen on hard times,” said Nodachi.

  “It stands,” said Lord Yamada.

  “Only as long as you,” said Nodachi.

  There were two with Lord Yamada, standing, behind him, one on either side. In a sense I knew both. One was Yasushi, whom I knew from the battle of the inn, before we were taken into custody by Kazumitsu, the special officer of Lord Yamada, who had been searching for Sumomo and her abductor. The other was Katsutoshi, whom I recalled from the village, where Nodachi had twice divided a grain of rice, once with the companion sword, and once with the field sword. Katsutoshi, as I recalled, had identified himself as the captain of the shogun’s guard.

  “Where are your armies, great lord?” inquired Nodachi.

  “Regrouping in the south,” said Lord Yamada.

  “I fear not,” said Nodachi. “The iron dragon has flow
n. Many, officers and warriors, have fled to lesser, farther islands. Roads are filled with roving bands. Daimyos have withdrawn to their holdings. Dismayed warriors seek new daimyos. Ashigaru have returned to villages.”

  “I now dismiss them, all,” said Lord Yamada. “They have failed. I order them away.”

  “You are not heavily defended,” observed Nodachi.

  “Did my guards not object to your passage?” asked Lord Yamada.

  “They object no more,” said Nodachi.

  “I gave no command that you be released,” said Lord Yamada.

  “The door of my cell was left open,” said Nodachi.

  “By your friends?” said Lord Yamada.

  “It is so,” said Nodachi.

  “Greetings, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Lord Yamada. “And to your fellows, Tajima san, and the noble barbarian, Pertinax san.”

  We three bowed to Lord Yamada, acknowledging his greeting.

  “The palace was overrun, by peasants,” said Nodachi.

  “None dared to enter this chamber,” said Lord Yamada.

  “Why have you not fled, great lord?” I asked.

  “I am shogun,” he said.

  “I fear the men of Temmu may march south,” I said.

  “They do,” said Lord Yamada. “They have defiled the road for days.”

  “There is still time to flee,” I said.

  “I am shogun,” he said.

  It was my surmise that the wager betwixt Kurii and Priest-Kings, if it existed, would not be considered resolved until either the house of Yamada or that of Temmu would be crushed into a nullity.

  “How magician,” asked Lord Yamada of Nodachi, “did you survive the test of twelve arrows?”

  “Does that concern you, great lord?” asked Nodachi.

  “Yes,” said the shogun.

  “One must care for the arrow, understand the arrow, think as the arrow, and be as the arrow,” said Nodachi.

  “That is absurd,” said Lord Yamada.

  “The test was passed,” said Nodachi.

  “If the men of Lord Temmu have been on the road for days,” I said. “They must be near.”

  “It is expected,” said Lord Yamada, “that they will arrive within the Ahn.”

  “And you choose to receive them here?” I said.

  “Certainly,” he said. “It is my audience chamber.”

  “You are ill defended,” said Nodachi.

  “One cannot be better defended than by those who are loyal,” said Lord Yamada.

  “I have no quarrel with two brave men,” said Nodachi.

  “Nor they with you,” said Lord Yamada. “I am expecting visitors. I permit you to withdraw.”

  “You understand,” said Nodachi, “that I have come to kill you.”

  “I recall you have said so,” said Lord Yamada.

  “Your garden is lovely,” said Nodachi.

  Lord Yamada inclined his head, politely.

  “Let us repair to the garden,” suggested Nodachi.

  “Why?” asked Lord Yamada.

  “I think it would be a good place to die, amidst the flowers and trees,” said Nodachi.

  “There is no good place to die,” said Lord Yamada.

  “We must loosen steel,” said Nodachi. “I insist.”

  “It is improper,” said Lord Yamada. “You are a peasant, a charlatan, a magician, a mountebank. I would dishonor my steel.”

  “Perhaps, great lord,” said Tajima. “You might find it within the perimeter of your honor to lift your sword in certain circumstances, say, to avenge a grievous insult to your house?”

  “Perhaps,” said Lord Yamada.

  “Excellent,” said Tajima. He then turned curtly about, and exited the chamber, only to return a moment later, dragging the leashed, naked, bound Kameko behind him. He then threw her to her knees before the dais. “Perhaps you recognize this naked, bound slut!” he said.

  “Certainly,” said Lord Yamada, “though I am accustomed to seeing her more fully dressed.”

  “She was an exalted, high lady in your house!” said Tajima.

  “Once,” said Lord Yamada.

  “Be outraged! Be enflamed! Fight!” cried Tajima. Then, as Lord Yamada did not move, but seemed impassive, Tajima, in disgust, threw the leash to the floor.

  “Have I taught you nothing, dear friend?” said Nodachi. “It is you who are enflamed, not the great lord. Steel does not well obey the furious hand. As you are, you might not survive three touches of engaging steel.”

  At this point, the leash loose, Kameko leaped to her feet, ran to the dais, ascended it, and put herself to the feet of Lord Yamada.

  “Save me, save me, great lord!” she cried.

  She put her head to his leg, sobbing.

  We tensed, but made no move.

  Lord Yamada said something to Katsutoshi, who left the shogun’s side, and shortly returned, carrying an object, wrapped in cloth.

  She who had been the Lady Kameko raised her head to the shogun. “Please, great lord,” she said, “remove this hated rope from my neck, this degrading leash, cut my hands free, clothe me, and then kill them! Kill them all!”

  “Turn about, as you are, on your knees,” he said, “that your back is to me, and your face to our visitors.”

  She was then facing us.

  Lord Yamada rose to his feet, behind her.

  “Are you a slave?” asked the shogun.

  “No!” she cried. “No!”

  “Slaves,” he said to her, “may be punished for attempting to escape, and for lying.”

  “Great lord?” she said.

  “Is she a slave?” asked Lord Yamada.

  “Yes,” said Pertinax.

  “Whose slave?” asked Lord Yamada.

  “Mine,” said Pertinax. “This very day she declared herself slave, following which irrevocable act, I, perhaps foolishly, put claim on her.”

  “There are witnesses, of course,” said the shogun.

  “I,” I said.

  “And I,” said Tajima.

  The shogun then seized Kameko’s long hair and, with a stroke or two of his blade, cut much of it away. He then put out his hand for the object which Katsutoshi had brought to the dais. Katsutoshi slipped the cloth away, and handed the object to the shogun.

  He then lifted the object over her head, and then down, and about her neck, and snapped it shut.

  Kameko cried out with misery, collared.

  The shogun threw the tiny key to the floor before Pertinax, who retrieved it, and slipped it in his pouch.

  He then threw the slave from the dais, and she rolled to the feet of Pertinax.

  “There is your slave,” he said.

  “My thanks, great lord,” said Pertinax.

  “I trust,” said the shogun, “you will see that she is suitably punished for attempting to escape, and for lying.”

  “Yes,” said Pertinax.

  “As she is now collared,” said Lord Yamada, “I trust that there will be no further confusion or doubt as to the fact that she is a slave. I would also advise you to have her marked as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, great lord,” said Pertinax.

  “And, my dear,” said the shogun to the distraught slave, “I suspect it will be a long time before you are permitted clothing.”

  Pertinax then bent to the slave and, with the leash, tied her ankles together. She had, thus, been placed in a variation of the most common slave tie, which is simply, usually with two short thongs, ropes, straps, laces, or such, to bind the slave hand and foot. This is a comfortable tie, but, in it, the slave is bound helplessly, and efficiently. A less pleasant version of this tie is to pull back the ankles and tie them, rather closely, to the hands, behind her.

  “You understand, magician,” said Lord Yamada to Nodachi, “that I cannot cross swords with you, as you are not of my level.”

  “I must beg your permission to permit me to do so,” said Nodachi.

  “Yasushi,” said the shogun, resuming h
is sitting position, cross-legged, “kill the peasant.”

  “Ela, lord,” said Yasushi. “I cannot, for he is my teacher, the master, Nodachi. The bond between student and master is inviolate.”

  “True,” said the shogun. “I did not understand. Forgive me.” He then turned to Katsutoshi. “Loyal Katsutoshi,” he said, “you are the finest sword in my guard.”

  I had no doubt as to the skills of Katsutoshi, were he the finest sword in the shogun’s guard. This distinction, I gathered, had become his following the demise of the warrior, Izo, in the market town, Chrysanthemum of the Shogun. Izo, as it may be recalled, had been dispatched with ease by Nodachi. Blades had not even touched.

  The shogun then indicated Nodachi. “Go,” he said, “kill him.”

  Katsutoshi bowed to the shogun. “You send me to my death,” he said. “I go.”

  “I have no quarrel with this brave man,” said Nodachi. “Please be so good as to interfere.”

  Both Tajima and Pertinax whipped out companion swords, taken from the trophy room, and stepped between Nodachi and Katsutoshi, who descended, lightly, from the dais.

  “Be behind me,” I said to them.

  “No,” said Nodachi. “They must learn.”

  Tajima first engaged Katsutoshi. Blades, under the lamps, flashed. I was much impressed with both combatants. I soon realized how it might have been that Katsutoshi had won his captaincy, at least in part.

  Suddenly Tajima had lost the blade, and it struck the floor.

  Katsutoshi put his foot upon the blade, and Tajima backed away.

  “The blade is to be held neither too lightly nor too tightly,” said Nodachi. “Held too tightly the wrist locks, the blade is less nimble; held too lightly, the blade may fly away, like a startled vulo.”

  “I have failed, Master,” said Tajima.

  “Not at all,” said Nodachi. “I am proud of you. Few could stand against you. Your opponent is a master swordsman.”

  Pertinax stepped forward.

  “You must be as in the dojo, alert, and calm, cool, quick, steady, but not as in the dojo,” said Nodachi, “for here you must be more, even more, for here it is different, for here you are facing steel which intends to cut you, swift steel intent upon entering your flesh, quick steel which is intent upon shedding your blood, clever, cunning steel which wants to kill you.”