Plunder of Gor

by Norman, John;

  “I understand,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “Too,” said Lord Grendel, “I need not abide by the code of the Assassin, to make no kill from which I cannot slip away in safety. I can be careless of my life, and thus, sufficiently motivated, might kill several, publicly, before I could be brought down.”

  “I understand,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “I can understand the possible reluctance of Decius Albus to invest several men in an effort that might prove difficult to explain, if not scandalous. On the other hand, he could use one, or two, and that would attract little attention. It could always be ascribed to a misadventure of independent thieves, with no obvious link to the house of Albus.”

  “As I understand it,” said Drusus Andronicus, “something of that sort was attempted, on Emerald.”

  “Unsuccessfully,” said Kurik.

  “One could always try again,” said Lord Grendel.

  “Of course,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “So now,” said Lord Grendel, “let me explain to you the nature of your ‘hiatus’.”

  “Please,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “Lord Agamemnon has withdrawn,” he said. “Else there would be no hiatus. I do not know where he has gone, nor why, but I suspect. He troubled himself here to obtain a recruitment he thought might be profitable. He is now through with the business. Something more important has emerged. I think he was in Ar, waiting for word, which has now been received. So he has withdrawn. He is no longer in Ar. The hiatus is presumably brought about by Surtak, who bears me little, if any, ill will.”

  “You killed several of his minions,” said Drusus Andronicus. “The Sleen’s Back Bridge.”

  “You know little of the ways of the Kur,” said Lord Grendel. “Surtak has stood in the rings. It was a good fight.”

  “You think he is your friend?” asked Drusus Andronicus.

  “As enemies can be friends,” said Lord Grendel. “You are of the Scarlet Caste, are you not?”

  “I am,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “I know one of the Scarlet Caste,” said Lord Grendel. “He would understand such words.”

  “I did not think such things obtained amongst beasts,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “From the point of view of the High Ones, the Kurii,” said Lord Grendel, “it is such as you who are the beasts.”

  “Forgive me,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “I speculate as follows,” said Lord Grendel. “Were Lord Agamemnon in Ar, there would be no hiatus. I know him. From the proposal of the hiatus, we may infer he is no longer in Ar. But what would take him from Ar? What might lead him to abandon Ar, an ideal center for clandestine operations, a repository of gold and diverse resources, and a fortress of relative safety, given the houses of Decius Albus, and the protection of his power in Ar, to accept the risks of travel and discovery? I think I know. I fear I know. And the hiatus, as I see it, is a proposal of Surtak, who, in the absence of Lord Agamemnon, sees little profit in pursuing projects of dubious importance or value.”

  “It may be so,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “But,” said Lord Grendel, “you are scarcely here to inform us of what is already obvious, that a cessation of hostilities has taken place, and that a truce of sorts is in effect. Have we not already met, and without bloodshed, representatives of Decius Albus? Have we not already released the Lady Alexina, and seen to her safe return to the House of a Hundred Corridors?”

  “It is as you say,” said Drusus Andronicus, “and, beyond this, let it be known that the noble Decius Albus, grateful for the return of his protégé, the lovely Lady Alexina, salutes you, and wishes you well.”

  “All then is at peace,” said Kurik. “The war is done.”

  Eve, happily, crept a bit closer to Lord Grendel.

  “Please convey to the noble Albus,” said Kurik, “that his salutation is accepted, that it is returned, and that his kind wishes are reciprocated, most heartily.”

  “I shall do so,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “Our meeting is now at an end,” said Lord Grendel.

  “Not quite,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “I did not think so,” said Lord Grendel.

  “I bear word, a message,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “That is the true purpose of your visit here,” said Lord Grendel.

  “I fear so,” said Master Drusus.

  “Word from the noble Decius Albus,” said Lord Grendel.

  “No,” said Master Drusus, “from another.”

  “Who?” asked Kurik.

  “From he known as ‘Surtak’,” said Master Drusus.

  “Of course,” said Lord Grendel, and he quietly uttered, in Kur, the true name of he whom I knew only as Surtak, apparently an officer, quite possibly a high officer, in the service of Lord Agamemnon.

  “Surtak, officer of Lord Agamemnon,” said Drusus Andronicus, “proposes a feast of amity, a banquet in which pledges of peace and friendship may be formally exchanged, this occasion to recognize and seal the current truce. This feast is to take place four days from this day, at the fourteenth Ahn, at the house of Decius Albus, that which is a pasang from the Viktel Aria, which house is known to you.”

  “It is known to us,” said Lord Grendel.

  “I shall convey to the noble Albus,” said Drusus Andronicus, “that you thank him for his invitation but, due to pressing matters, must decline to accept.”

  “Not at all,” said Lord Grendel. “Inform him that we are delighted to accept.”

  “Surely not,” said Master Drusus.

  “But surely so,” said Lord Grendel.

  “I wish you well,” said Drusus Andronicus, rising.

  “We wish you well,” said Lord Grendel.

  Drusus Andronicus then turned about, went to the stairs, and descended to the street.

  Paula leapt up, smiled, gave me a quick kiss, and followed him down the stairs.

  I looked about.

  I was decidedly uneasy.

  “You cannot be serious,” said the Lady Bina to Lord Grendel. Eve whispered something to Lord Grendel, in Kur. I could not understand her meaning, but the monitory and concerned aspect of her communication was evident.

  “May I speak?” I asked. I was anxious to convey my misgivings, that such an invitation had been accepted.

  “No,” said my master, and I, disconcerted and miserable, forbidden to speak, was reminded that I was a slave.

  “Grendel?” asked Kurik.

  “Surtak,” said Lord Grendel, “has honor.”

  “Are you sure?” said Kurik.

  “He has stood in the rings,” said Lord Grendel. “I am confident. Such an invitation would not be extended if not in good faith. We need fear nothing from such an invitation tendered by Surtak.”

  “You are familiar with the saying, I take it,” said Kurik, “that many a track leads into the den of the larl but few lead out.”

  “Yes,” said Lord Grendel, “but let me add to the saying, that those tracks that lead out may be awash with the blood of the larl.”

  “I advise, most strenuously, that we decline the invitation,” said Kurik.

  “It is accepted,” said Lord Grendel.

  “Why?” asked Kurik.

  “Surtak has honor,” said Lord Grendel. “He is not Lord Agamemnon. Lord Agamemnon would propose a truce, or amnesty, and then slaughter those who would be so foolish as to avail themselves of it. He is honorable only when it suits his convenience. Lord Agamemnon sees honor only as a weapon by means of which to control, deceive, trick, and manipulate others. I do not read Surtak as Lord Agamemnon. He is not Lord Agamemnon.”

  “Perhaps Lord Agamemnon is about,” said Kurik.

  “I do not think so,” said Lord Grendel.

  “Why?” asked Kurik.

&nbs
p; “The hiatus,” said Lord Grendel.

  “You said,” said Kurik, “you feared you knew why Lord Agamemnon had withdrawn, why he was no longer in Ar.”

  “Yes,” said Lord Grendel. “But I may be wrong. I want to be wrong. Let us hope that I am wrong.”

  “What is it you fear?” asked Kurik. “You seem harrowed by your suspicions.”

  “I dare not speak,” said Lord Grendel. “The prospect is too fearful.”

  “I do not understand,” said Kurik.

  “It is a frightful, terrible thing,” said Lord Grendel.

  “What?” asked Kurik.

  “I think it best not to speak of it,” said Lord Grendel.

  “I do not think it was wise, dear Grendel,” said the Lady Bina, “to have accepted the invitation.”

  “We had no choice, dear lady,” said Lord Grendel. “The matter must be finished somehow. We are vulnerable. We do not wish to live in hiding, in fear. In peace all are victors, in war, only one, if that. One must have this business done, one way or another.”

  “And it will be done, one way or another?” said Kurik.

  “Yes,” said Lord Grendel, “near the fourteenth Ahn, four days from now, a pasang or so from the Viktel Aria.”

  “You place great confidence in the honor of Surtak,” said Kurik.

  “I do,” said Lord Grendel.

  “Then what is there to fear?” asked Kurik.

  “Only that the invitation did not come from Surtak,” said Lord Grendel.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  “Welcome, noble friends,” called out Decius Albus, hurrying forward, under the shading latticework through which the afternoon sun stroked the laden tables with a melody of light and shade. Certain streets in Ar, in certain districts, are similarly sheltered from the sun, though with vines clinging to the latticework, and then, usually, here and there, there are stands of fruits and vegetables lining the walls. I was familiar with one such street, the Street of Dinas, near the theater of Elbar, for I had shopped there. Frequently assignations take place in such streets, which, in their way, constitute lovely, extended bowers, half lit even in the noonday sun. Some, such as the Street of Dinas, are fragrant with flowers.

  “Noble Albus,” said Lord Grendel, in intelligible Gorean.

  “Noble Albus,” said my master.

  By one of the tables, heaped with viands and blossoms, I beheld a Kur, in festive harness. It quickly turned away.

  I was tunicked, and well scrubbed, brushed, and combed. I stood, lithe, supple, and graceful. I was not a free woman. I was collared. On Gor, as I had not on Earth, I had discovered the joy of being honestly and freely what I was. How different we were from men, and how wonderful! And how marvelous and wonderful were men, so different from us! How they were, unreduced and uncrippled, our rightful owners, our masters! I had not become a true woman until I had been put in a man’s collar. I could almost pity free women. How little they had, how much they missed! The tunic was brief, even for a slave tunic, for my master liked me in such tunics. After all, I was an animal, so why should I not be displayed as one? Why should he not, if he wished, display an animal he owned? Were the men of Earth not proud of their dogs?

  “Help yourselves from the tables,” said Decius Albus. “Eat well, drink freely.”

  “Where is the noble Surtak?” inquired Lord Grendel.

  “He is detained,” said Decius Albus. “He will be here shortly. In the meantime, feast, enjoy yourselves. Here and there you will note, placed on the ground, near or below the tables, bowls of slave gruel, and slaves may join the feast, feeding there, feeding, of course, as slaves.”

  “The noble Albus is most thoughtful,” said my master.

  “I must now attend to my other guests,” said Decius Albus.

  “Surely,” said Kurik.

  “Entertainment will be afforded later,” said Decius Albus.

  “We shall look forward to it,” said Kurik.

  There were several men about the tables, under the latticework. I recognized some of the men, from the Commerce Court, one of several receiving chambers, I had gathered, in that palace known as the House of a Hundred Corridors, when my master had been introduced under the name of Tenrik of Siba, a representative of a Lord Grendel, a trade envoy from Mytilene, a supposed city located somewhere in the Farther Islands. What rendered me more apprehensive was the positioning of several guards, clearly armed, with spear and sword, about the fringes of the sheltered area. The day was hot, one of those days in which a free woman, if not for modesty, might envy a slave her tunic. The house itself could be seen in the distance.

  “Surtak should be here,” said Lord Grendel.

  “He is not,” said Kurik, looking about.

  I was hobbled.

  This had been done shortly after we had descended from the closed wagon, closed to conceal the presence of Lord Grendel, which wagon Kurik had rented to carry us to the feast.

  “Hold!” had called a guard, the leader of some five guards. “Descend, to be conducted to the feast.” From the wagon, we could see what must be the feasting area, an open, sideless, shaded, temporary structure, hung with banners, ribbons, and garlands, ahead and to the left. The house was beyond that, and to the right. “No weapons are permitted at the feast,” we were informed. “Of course,” had said Kurik. We had then descended from the wagon. Neither he nor Lord Grendel, given the nature of the event, had come armed. Two of the guards then examined the wagon, determining that it was empty. “Your wagon will be placed with the others,” we were told, “and your beast will be stalled and fed.”

  “It seems we are not the only guests,” said Kurik.

  “The slave is to be hobbled,” said he who seemed to be first amongst the guards.

  “Why?” asked Kurik.

  “She is a slave,” said the guard.

  “We are outside the walls of Ar,” said another.

  “She might helplessly run in terror, at the sight of some of our guests,” said another.

  “I see,” said Kurik.

  The clasps were put on my ankles, the bar between. All of these answers, I supposed, had their point. One needs no justification for binding, roping, chaining, hobbling, or in any other way restraining a slave. She is a slave. Such things convince her of her bondage, and deepen her sense of being owned, of being a helpless property. These things make her a better slave, and more wholly a slave. It is part of what it is to be a slave. Too, of course, it excites men to see her so, and excites the slave in being so, knowing herself vulnerable and helpless, at the mercy of a master. With respect to the walls of Ar, those walls not only preclude the convenient entry of an intruder but lock within, and protect, valuables, amongst which are slaves. The same wall that keeps an intruder without keeps a slave within. For example, unescorted slaves are not allowed to exit the city. Whereas, given the collaring, clothing, and marking of a girl, the closely knit nature of the society, the acceptance and approval of bondage in the culture, and the culture’s unquestioned support of, and enforcement of, the rigors of the institution of bondage, there is no escape for the Gorean slave girl, escapes are occasionally attempted, either from ignorance or desperation. The best that might be hoped for would be to fall into the chains of a different master who, realizing she was a runaway, would be likely to be far more cruel to her than her former master. Indeed, there are even fugitive brands, and it is not in the best interest of a girl to have one put in her body. Thus, outside the walls, where escape might seem more likely to the uninformed or naive, it is not unusual for a girl to be hobbled, chained to a wagon, or such. Thirdly, most Gorean slave girls have never seen a Kur, and do not even know they exist. Thus, it is quite possible that the first sight of such a creature might precipitate flight, as from a larl or sleen. Hobbling, obviously, militates against a girl’s acting freely from some hysterical response. I recalled that the Lady
Bina had made certain that Paula’s ankles had been bound before she was given her first glimpse of Lord Grendel. I recalled how shaken she had been following that occasion.

  “Would that I had even a knife,” had said Kurik.

  “No,” had said Lord Grendel, softly. “Even so small a thing might insult our host, Surtak.”

  “It is a risk I would be prepared to take,” said Kurik.

  “More than one Ubar has been slain by a knife thrust at a feast,” said Lord Grendel, “the knife sometimes wielded even by a slave. Why else do you think that slaves at such a feast are to serve with two hands on a goblet, or platter, their hands thusly in plain sight?”

  “I find it hard to believe that a slave would strike such a blow,” said Kurik.

  “To be sure,” said Lord Grendel, “it is usually a free woman masquerading as a slave, expecting to be spirited away once the blow is struck.”

  “Amidst feasters, and guards?” asked Kurik.

  “If her blow is successful, she dies, of course, following lengthy tortures. If it is not successful, she becomes the slave of the Ubar.”

  “You will please follow me, to the feast,” said one of the guards.

  “Master!” I said, plaintively.

  It is easy to stand gracefully, and such, in hobbles, but it is not at all easy to move in them. One can move only in short, awkward steps, and the slightest miscalculation, or haste, may plunge one to the ground. But one can move, of course. Thus, in a night camp, even a hobbled girl is likely to be chained to a tree, or, by the neck, to the foot of her master.

  “Master,” I breathed, delighted, swept into his arms. I was not even put over his left shoulder, my head to the rear, as a slave is usually carried. In this way she is reminded she is property, and cannot see toward what she is being borne.

  “Master carries me as though I might be free,” I said.

  “Scarcely,” he said, “you are tunicked, and this way you are closer to me, and I can see more of you.”

  I put my head back, against his shoulder.

  “You are heavier,” he said. “I think I shall cut down on your gruel.”