the iron had bitten her. Her scream brought laughter from some of the other
bond-maids. She was then thrust to the anvil and thrown to her knees beside it:
I saw the young, broad-shouldered thrall, who had been standing to one side, go
to the slender blond girl. He lifted her to her feet. "I see, Thyri," said he,
"that you are now a woman whose belly lies beneath the sword." "Wulfstan," she
said. "I am called Tarsk here," he said. He fingered the collar on her throat.
"The proud Thyri," he said, "a bond-maid!" He smiled. "You refused my suit,"
said he. "Do you recall?" She said nothing. "You were too good for me," he said.
He laughed. "Now," said he, "doubtless you would crawl on your belly to any man
who would free you." She looked at him angrily. "Would you not?" he asked. "Yes,
Wulfstan," she said. "I would!" He held her by the collar. "But you will not be
freed Thyri," he said. "You will continue to wear this. You are a bond-maid."
She looked down. "It pleases me," said he, "to see you here." He stepped back
from her. She lifted her eyes, angrily, to look upon him. "A brand," said he,
"improves a woman. It improves you Thyri. Your collar, too, the iron on your
neck, it against the softness of your body, is quite becoming." "Thank you,
Wulfstan," said she. "Women," said he, "belong in collars." Her eyes flashed.
"Sometimes," said he, "to discipline a bond-maid, she is hurled naked among the
thralls." He smiled. "Do not fear. Should this be done to you I, in my turn,
shall use you well Bond-maid. Quite well." She shrank back from him. The last
blows of the smith's hamrner rang out and Aelgifu, by the hair, was pulled from
the anvil, wearing a collar of black iron. "Hurry, bond-maids!" cried Ivar
Forkbeard. "Hurry, lazy girls! There is a feast to be prepared!" The bond-maids,
Thyri and Aelgifu among them, fled, like a frightened herd of tabuk, across the
short, turflike green grass, to the gate of the palisade, to be put to work.
Ivar Forkbeard roared with laughter, his head back. On his lap, naked, cuddling,
sat she who had been Aelgifu, her arrns about his neck, her lips to the side of
his head; her name had now been changed; the new name of the daughter of Gurt,
Administrator of Kassau, was Pudding. On his other side, stripped, her collar of
black iron at her throat, her arms about his waist, rubbing herself against his
belt, was the bond-maid Gunnhild. I held the large drinking horn of the north.
"There is no way for this to stand upright," I said to him, puzzled. He threw
back his head again, and roared once more with laughter. "If you cannot drain
it," he said, "give it to another!" I threw back my head and drained the horn.
"Splendid!" cried the Forkbeard. I handed the horn to Thyri, who, in her collar,
naked, between two of the benches, knelt at my feet. "Yes, Jarl," said she, and
ran to fill it, from the great vat. How marvelously beauhful is a naked,
collared woman. "Your hall," said I to the Forkbeard, "is scarcely what had
expected." I had learned, much to my instruction, that my conception of the
northern halls left much to be desired. Indeed the true hall, lofty,
high-beamed, built of logs and boards, with its benches and high-seat pillars,
its carvings and hangings, its long fires, its suspended kettles, was actually
quite rare, and, generally, only the richest of the Jarls possessed such. The
hall of Ivar Forkbeard, I learned, to my surprise, was of a type much more
common. Upon reflection, however, it seemed to me not so strange that this
should be so, in a bleak country, one in which many of the trees, too would be
stunted and wind-twisted. In Torvaldsland, fine tlmber is at a premium. Too,
what fine lumber there is, is often marked and hoarded for the use of
shipwrights If a man of Torvaldsland must choose between his hall and his ship,
it is the ship which, invariably, wins his choice. Furthermore, of course, were
it not for goods won by his ship or ships, it would be unlikely that he would
have the means to build a hall and house within it his men "Here, Jarl," said
Thyri, again handing me the horn. It was filled with the mead of Torvaldsland,
brewed from fermented honey, thick and sweet The hall of Ivar Forkbeard was a
longhouse. It was about one hundred and twenty feet Gorean in length. Its walls
formed of turf and stone, were curved and thick, some eight feet or more in
thickness. It is oriented north and south. Thls reduces its exposure to the
north wind, which is partlcularly important in the Torvaldsland winter. A fire,
in a rounded pit, was in its center. It consisted, for the most part, of a
single, long room, which served for living, and eating and sleeping. At one end
was a cooking compartment, separated from the rest of the house by a partition
of wood. The roof was about six feet in height, which meant that most of those
within, if male, were forced to bend over as they moved about. The long room,
besides being low, is dark. Too, there is usually lingering smoke in it.
Ventilation is supplied, as it is generally in Torvaldsland, by narrow holes in
the roof. The center of the hall, down its length, is dug out about a foot below
the ground level. In the long center are set the tables and benches. Also, in
the center, down its length are two long rows of posts, each post separated from
the next by about seven feet, which support the roof. At the edges of the hall,
at ground level, is a dirt floor, on which furs are spread. Stones mark sections
off into sleeping quarters. Thus, in a sense, the hall proper is about a foot
below ground level, and the sleeping level, on each side, is at the ground
level, where the walls begin. The sleeping levels, which also can accommodate a
man'sgear, though some keep it at the foot of the level, are about eight feet in
length. The hall proper, the center of the hall, is about twelve feet in width.
The two bond-maids, stripped, too, like the others, for the feast, Pretty Ankles
and Pouting Lips, struggled down the length of the smoky, dark hall, a spitted,
roasted tarsk on their shoulders. They were slapped by the men, hurrying them
along. They laughed with pleasure. Their shoulders were protected from the heat
of the metal spit by rolls of leather. The roasted tarsk was flung before us on
the table. With his belt knife, thrusting Pudding and Gunnhild back, Ivar
Forkbeard addressed himself to the cutting of the meat. He threw pieces down the
length of the table. I heard men laughing. Too, from the darkness behind me, and
more than forty feet away, on the raised level, I heard the screams of a raped
bond-maid. She was one of the new girls. I had seen her being dragged by the
hair to the raised platform. Her screams were screams of pleasure. "Well," said
Ivar Forkbeard to me, "I am an outlaw." "I did not know that," I said. "That is
one reason," said he, "that my hall is not of wood." "I see," I said. "But you
have at least a palisade," I said. He threw me a piece of meat. He cut two small
pieces, and thrust them in the mouths of Pudding and Gunnhild. They ate
obediently, his pets. "The palisade," he said, "is low, and the cracks are
filled with daub." I tore a piece of meat from what Ivar had thrown me and held
it to Thyri. She smiled
at me. She was trying to learn how to please a man.
"Thank you, my Jarl," she said. She took the meat, delicately, in her teeth. I
grinned, and she looked down, frightened. She knew that soon she might be
taught, truly, how to please men. "You are rich," I said, "and have many men.
Surely you could have a hall of wood, if you wished." "Why did you come to
Torvaldsland?" suddenly asked Ivar Forkbeard. "On a work of vengeance," I told
him. "I hunt one of the Kurii." "They are dangerous," said Ivar Forkbeard. I
shrugged. "One has struck here," said Ottar, suddenly. Ivar looked at him. "Last
month," said Ottar, "a verr was taken." I knew then that it could not be the one
of the Kurii I sought. "We hunted him, but failed to find him," said Ottar.
"Doubtless he has left the district," said Ivar. "Do the beasts often bother
you?" I asked. "No," said Ivar. "They seldom hunt this far to the south." "They
are rational," I told him. "They have a language." "That is known to me," said
Ivar. I did not tell Ivar that those he knew as Kurii, or the beasts, were
actually specimens of an alien race, that they, or those in their ships, were
locked in war with PriestKings for the domination of two worlds, Gor and the
Earth. In these battles, unknown to most men, even of Gor, from time to time,
ships of the Kurii had been shattered and fallen to the surface. It was the
practice of Priest-Kings to destroy the wrecks of such ships but, usually, at
least, they did not attempt to hunt and exterminate survivors. If the marooned
Kurii abided by the weapon and technology laws of Priest-Kings, they, like men,
another life form, were perrmitted to survive. The Kurii I knew were beasts of
fierce, terrible instincts, who regarded humans, and other beasts, as food.
Blood, as to the shark, was an agitant to their systems. They were extremely
powerful, and highly intelligent, though their intellectual capacities, like
those of humans, were far below those of Priest-Kings. Fond of killing, and
technologically advanced, they were, in their way, worthy adversaries of
Priest-Kings. Most lived in ships, the steel wolves of space, their instincts
bridled, to some extent, by Ship Loyalty, Ship Law. It was thought that their
own world had been destroyed. This seemed plausible, when one considered their
ferocity and greed, and what might be its implementation in virtue of an
advanced technology. Their own world destroyed, the Kurii now wished another.
The Kurii, of course, with which the men of Torvaldsland might have had
dealings, might have been removed by as much as generations from the Kurii of
the ships. It was regarded as one of the great dangers of the war, however, that
the Kurii of the ships might make contact with, and utilize, the Kurii of Gor in
their schemes. Men and the Kurii, where they met, which was usually only in the
north, regarded one another as mortal enemies. The Kurii not unoften fed on men,
and men, of course, in consequence, attempted to hunt and slay, when they could,
the beasts. Usually, however, because of the power and ferocity of the beasts,
men would hunt them only to the borders of their own districts, particularly if
only the loss of a bosk or thrall was involved. It was usually regarded as quite
sufficient, even by the men of Torvaldsland, to drive one of the beasts out of
their own district. They were especially pleased when they had managed to harry
one into the district of an enemy. "How will you know the one of the Kurii whom
you seek?" asked Ivar. "I think," I said, "he will know me." "You are a brave,
or foolish, man," said Ivar. I drank more of the mead. I ate, too, of the roast
tarsk. "You are of the south," said Ivar. "I have a proposition, a scheme."
"What is that?" I asked. The bond-maid, Olga, laughing and kicking, thrown
helplessly over the shoulder of an oarsman, was carried past. I saw several of
the bond-maids in the arms of Ivar's men. Among them, too, some trying to
resist, were the new girls. One, who had irritated an oarsman, her hands held,
was beaten, crying out, with his belt. Released, she began to kiss him, weeping,
trying to please him. Men laughed. Another of the new girls was thrown over one
of the benches; she lay on her back; her head was down, her dark hair, lon wild,
was in the dirt and reeds, strewn on the floor of the hall; her head twisted
from side to side; her eyes were close her lips were parted; I saw her teeth.
"Do not stop, ~ Jarl," she begged. "Your bond-maid begs you not to stop! "I am
an outlaw," said Ivar. 'In a duel I killed Fin BroadbeIt." "It was in a duel," I
said. "Finn Broadbelt was the cousin of Jarl Svein Blue Tooth. "Ah," I said.
Svein Blue Tooth was the high jarl of Torvaldsland, in the sense that he was
generally regarded as th e most powerful. In his hall, it was said he fed a
thousand men. Beyond this his heralds could carry the war arrow, it was said, to
ten thousand farms. Ten ships he had at his own wharves, and, it was said, he
could sumrnon a hundred more "He is your Jarl?" I asked. "He was my Jarl," said
Ivar Forkbeard. "The wergild must be high," I speculated. The Forkbeard looked
at me, and grinned. "It was set so high," said he, "out of the reach of custom
and law, against the protests of the rune-priests and his own men, that none, in
his belief, could pay it." "And thus," said I, "that your outlawry would remain
in effect until you were apprehended or slain?" "He hoped to drive me from
Torvaldsland," said Ivar. "He has not succeeded in doing so," I said. Ivar
grinned. "He does not know where I am," said he. "If he did, a hundred ships
might enter the inlet." "How much," asked I, "is the wergild?" "A hundred stone
of gold,'' said Ivar. "You have taken that much, or more," said I, "in the sack
of Kassau's temple." "And the weight of a full-grown man in the sapphires of
Schendi," said the Forkbeard. I said nothing. "Are you not surprised?" asked
Ivar. "It seems a preposterous demand," I admitted, smiling. "You know, however,
what I did in the south?" asked Ivar. "It is well known," I said, "that you
freed Chenbar, the Sea Sleen, Ubar of Tyros, from the chains of a dungeon of
Port Kar, your fee being his weight in the sapphires of Schendi." I did not
mention to the Forkbeard that it had been I, as Bosk of Port Kar, admiral of the
city, who had been responsible for the incarceration of Chenbar. Yet I admired
the audacity of the man of Torvaldsland, though his act, in freeing Chenbar to
act against me, had almost cost me my life last year in the northern forests.
Sarus of Tyros, acting under his orders, had struck to capture both Marlenus of
Ar and myself. He had failed to capture me, and I had, eventually, managed to
free Marlenus, his men and mine, and defeat Sarus. "Now," laughed Ivar
Forkbeard, "I expect that these nights Svein Blue Tooth rests less well in his
furs." "You have already," I said, "accumulated one hundred stone of gold and
the weight of Chenbar of Tyros, the Sea Sleen, in the sapphires of Schendi."
"But there is one thing more which the Blue Tooth demanded of me," said Ivar.
"The moons of Gor?" I asked. "No," said he, "the moon of Scagnar." "I do not
understand," I said. "The daughter," said he, "of Thorgard of Scagnar, Hilda the
Haughty." I laughed. "Thorgard of Scagnar," I said, "has power comparable to
that of the Blue Tooth himself." "You are of Port Kar," said Ivar. "My house is
in that city," said I. "Is Thorgard of Scagnar not an enemy of those of Port
Kar?" he asked. "We of Port Kar," I said, "have little quarrel generally with
those oi Scagnar, but it is true that the ships of this Thorgard have preyed
with devastation upon our shipping. Many men of Port Kar has he given to the
bosom of Thassa." "Wou!d you say," asked Ivar, "that he is your enemy?" Yes, I
said, "I would say that he is my enemy." 'You hunt one of the Kurii," said Ivar
"Yes," I said. "It may be dangerous and difflcult," he said "It is quite
possible," I admitted. "It might be good sport," said he, "to engage in such a
hunt.' "You are welcome to accompany me," I said. Is it of concern to you
whether or not the daughter oi Thorgard of Scagnar wears a collar?" "It does not
matter to me," said I, "whether she wears a collar or not." "I think, soon,"
said he, "his daughter might be fetched to the hal1 of Ivar Forkbeard." "It will
be difficult and dangerous," I said. "It is quite possible," said he. "Am I
welcome to accompany you?" I asked. He grinned. "Gunnhild," said he, "run for a
horn of mead. "Yes, my Jarl," said she, and sped from his side In a moment,
through the dark, smoky hall, returned Gurmhild, bearing a great horn of mead.
"My Jarls," said she. The Forkbeard took from her the horn of mead and,
together, we drained it. We then clasped hands. "You are welcome to accompany
me," said he. Then he rose to his feet behind the table. "Drink!" called he to
his men. 'Drink mead to Hilda the Haughty, daughter of Thorgard of Scagnar!" His
men roared with laughter. Bond-maids, collared and naked, fled about, filling
horns with mead. "Feast!" called Ivar Forkbeard. "Feast!" Much meat was eaten;
many horns were drained. Though the hall of Ivar Forkbeard was built only of
turf and stone, and though he himself was outlaw, he had met me at lts door,
after I had been bidden wait outside, in his finest garments of scarlet and
gold, and carrying a bowl of water and a towel. "Welcome to the hall of Ivar
Forkbeard," he had said. I had washed my hands and face in the bowl, held by the
master of the house himself, and dried myself on the towel. Then invited within
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