Plunder of Gor

by Norman, John;

  From the slave pool, waiting, standing in the water, I looked out, across the field, away from the caravanserai, into the now-unoccupied overflow area. Our position in the caravanserai was remote. I was certain the masters could have rented a yard much closer to the center of the camp, the shops, and such. “But, of course,” I thought, “here, away from things, the presence of Lord Grendel and Eve would be far less likely to be noticed.”

  I lay beside my master, following supper.

  Whereas some food had been brought from Ar in the wagon, some bread, and cold, prepared dishes, the latter for the free, more food had been bought from the shops in the caravanserai, some cubed, salted bosk, and some kes, tur-pah, and suls. In one of the two vessels suspended over the fire, Paula had prepared sullage, a sort of sul soup, or, in this case, given the thickness of the mix, a sul stew, and, in the other, had boiled the bosk cubes, heating and softening them. She had first, as is usually done, washed and scrubbed the cubes in fresh water, which is done to reduce the salt content and make the cubes more palatable.

  “Open your mouth,” said my master.

  I obeyed, and he, from the pan in which the cubes now resided, placed one of the small cubes of bosk in my mouth. I could still taste the salt. We eat what we are given. We are fed well, but not overfed by the masters. As we are animals, our appearance, our figures, are important to the masters. Who knows, they may wish to sell us. Accordingly our diets, as those of other animals, are carefully supervised.

  “Be careful,” said Drusus Andronicus. “You do not want to spoil her.”

  I did not think his remark was necessary. He did not own me. To one side, Paula, in the half darkness, away from the subsiding fire, was on all fours, head down, feeding from a pan.

  I had been permitted, earlier, to hold a small sullage bowl in my hands, and, head down, feed from it. I did not think my master was weak. Rather, it was I who, when near him, was weak. I always, for some reason, felt weak in the presence of Gorean men. I suppose the projection of their masculinity, so natural, so effortless, so unassuming, so thoughtless, so powerful, so strict, had an effect on my smaller body, my softness, my sensibility, and my awareness. The simple, natural masculinity of such men elicited, or triggered, weakness in me. I felt a natural desire to be on my knees before them. Certainly I was far more stable on my knees before them than I would have been on my feet. I might have shaken on my feet, even lost my balance. Even on my knees, I sometimes, faced with their power, found it difficult to speak. I could not help but feel, kneeling before them, a weakness, a readiness, a desire to yield, a fittingness to serve, a fervent hope to please. I was in my place, before men. There were complementarities in nature, physically, emotionally, and psychologically. Humans constituted a radically, sexually dimorphic species. Even Kurii, merely from the outside, could instantly distinguish between the sexes. Two components, male and female, formed an indivisible whole. Masculinity commanded femininity to its knees, and femininity found itself in its place. How could there be man without woman, or woman without man? How could there be master without slave, or slave without master? I found myself the willing prisoner of my nature, the joyful captive of my sex. I wanted to be what I was, not what I was not. Were the collar not on me, I would have sought it. How desperately I wanted to belong, how desperately I wanted to be owned. And how could I bring myself to respect a man who would not put me where I belonged, kneeling, beneath his whip?

  When Paula had finished her repast, she crawled to Drusus Andronicus, and lay lovingly beside him.

  He put his hand on her head.

  “Master,” she breathed.

  “Perhaps later, delicious, curvaceous slut,” he said.

  I lay beside my master, and thought of what Drusus Andronicus had said. On Earth I would never have thought of shy, quiet, gentle, diffident, intelligent, book-reading Paula as a “slut.” Surely she projected no such image to the world. That designation would have seemed the absolute opposite of what she was, or, perhaps better, of what she seemed to be. But who knew the interior life of such a person, her dreams, her wants, her needs? Who would know that she wanted to kneel at the feet of a master, in his chains? On Gor Paula had found herself as she wanted to be, collared, and owned. I suspected that in many women there is a “slut,” or, perhaps better, and far more helpless and vulnerable, and far more desirable and exciting, a slave?

  We spoke softly.

  The Lady Bina, sitting on an improvised chair, formed from a box, fastidiously licked her fingers. Most Gorean free women would kneel, their knees closely together. Both Kurik, my master, and Drusus Andronicus, sat about, cross-legged, which is common with Gorean men. In taverns, and most domiciles, at least in the “high cities,” the tables are low, and men sit about them cross-legged, and free women kneel at them. Part of our circle, so to speak, the fire pit to one side, restfully crouching, as might Kurii, was Lord Grendel and, beside him, touching him, making tiny loving sounds from time to time, was Eve.

  “It is now dark,” said the Lady Bina. “Surely it is about time.”

  I did not understand this remark.

  “Patience, dear lady,” said Lord Grendel.

  The spines on the ruined parasol, once the possession of a Lady Alexina, which the Lady Bina had carried to the amusements of Decius Albus, had been carefully wiped clean of their lethal coating by Lord Grendel and the entire accessory had been discarded. This was thought judicious, given the damage to the object and the attendant risk of an inadvertent contact with the spines. One would not wish, for example, to have envenomed ost fangs lying about in one’s immediate vicinity. Too, the Lady Bina refused to carry such an object, in its condition, as it would compromise her ensemble.

  Suddenly I noted that Lord Grendel had flicked on his translator.

  “Yes,” said Eve, her ears lifted.

  At the moment this made little sense to me, as he and Eve, at least in our presence, commonly discoursed in Gorean, and, if they wished the privacy of communicating in Kur, there would be no point in activating a translator. Then an instant later the hair on the back of my neck, and on my forearms, lifted, and I was terribly alert, and not a little frightened. Paula, too, was visibly alarmed. The others seemed relatively at ease, Lord Grendel and the men rose to their feet, looking out, into the darkness beyond the slave pool.

  I saw a light flash three times, perhaps fifty yards away, and then, a moment later, it flashed three times again.

  Clearly, somewhere out there, there was a dark lantern, a lantern whose light can be shielded, or revealed, given the opening or closing of a plate or door on the lamp.

  Lord Grendel stirred the fire, and then lifted a glowing brand, and then, three times, slowly, lifted it and lowered it.

  We continued to look into the darkness.

  Paula and I rose to our knees.

  The men made no effort to put out the fire.

  Presently we saw a large, dark, rather bent shape emerging from the darkness. Behind it, flanking it, were four or five other shapes, and perhaps more, but they remained back, avoiding the light of the fire. As the first shape approached the light of the fire, the fire was reflected from a broad metal surface, that of the large, double-edged ax it bore. This shape was attended by, heeling it, a somewhat slighter shape.

  As Lord Grendel, doubtless for the benefit of the humans present, had activated his translator, we followed much of what occurred.

  “Tal,” said Lord Grendel.

  “Tal,” said Surtak.

  He gestured, and Lyris, in her collar, lay on her belly, beside him.

  “It seems,” said Surtak, “you have made your escape from Ar.”

  “One might hope so,” said Lord Grendel.

  “I am first amongst others,” said Surtak.

  “I see it is so,” said Lord Grendel, peering out, beyond the slave pool.

  This change of command had been
effected at the games of Decius Albus.

  “I pray you, speak of Ar,” said Lord Grendel.

  “The trade advisor has recovered,” said Surtak. “He recruits men. He has designs on the throne of Ar.”

  “Perhaps he has forgotten the events of the games,” said Lord Grendel.

  “That is unlikely,” said Surtak.

  “He wished to ally himself with Kurii,” said Lord Grendel.

  “It was hoped,” said Surtak, “we might have been mutually helpful.”

  “Decius Albus,” said Lord Grendel, “abetted the ambitions of Lucilius and Aelius.”

  I recalled Lucilius had slain Aelius when the latter had sought the relative safety of the box of honor at the games.

  “Very much so,” said Surtak.

  “I trust you will not oath to him,” said Lord Grendel.

  “I would have his throat,” said Surtak.

  “Are you prepared to oath to Lord Arcesilaus?” asked Lord Grendel.

  “No,” said Surtak. “Are you prepared to oath to Lord Agamemnon?”

  “I think not,” said Lord Grendel. “I suspect you are displeased.”

  “Somewhat,” said Surtak.

  “I am sorry,” said Lord Grendel.

  “I owe you my life, and that, too, of this worthless slave at my feet,” said Surtak, kicking the prostrate form of Lyris, who lay beside him. “Thus, we need not fight to the death.”

  “I am pleased,” said Lord Grendel.

  “Indeed,” said Surtak, “I respect you, even as a womb brother, despite your grotesque deformities.”

  “The noble Surtak is not only generous, but kind,” said Lord Grendel. “What of Lord Agamemnon?”

  “He is absent, we know not where,” said Surtak. “I suspect he is acquiring, and learning, a new body.”

  “That is a fearful thing to contemplate,” said Kurik, from the side.

  These remarks made little sense to me.

  “Where is Lucilius?” asked Lord Grendel.

  “I think,” said Surtak, “he fled to Decius Albus.”

  “An anomalous alliance,” said Lord Grendel.

  “But a dangerous one,” said Surtak. “Particularly for humans.”

  “The Ubar?” said Lord Grendel.

  “I fear so,” said Surtak.

  “He denied the ring challenge,” said Lord Grendel.

  “I want him in the rings,” said Surtak, “in the rings.”

  “As he declined the challenge,” said Lord Grendel, “you would be denied a third ring.”

  “I do not want a third ring,” said Surtak. “I want his blood.”

  “Within the rings?”

  “Of course.”

  “Forgive me,” said Lord Grendel. “I have been inhospitable. There is still meat in the pot. May we offer you something? Ela, we do not have enough for your fellows.”

  “No,” said Surtak, “but permit my homely, worthless slave to serve meat to you and your party.”

  “Surely not to humans, and to such as Eve and I, supposed monsters,” said Lord Grendel. “Consider her former station, her antecedents.”

  “She is no longer accorded harnessing,” said Surtak. “She is collared. She is now a slave, no different from other Kur females embonded on the Metal World. It will be a good lesson for her, that she serve inferiors, that she, once a superior, must now serve inferiors, and that she is now a slave, and now immeasurably inferior to inferiors.”

  “Dear, noble Surtak,” said Lord Grendel, “Eve and myself, and the humans here, putting aside the slaves, do not regard ourselves as inferiors.”

  “Oh?” said Surtak.

  “No,” said Lord Grendel.

  “But, is it not obvious?” asked Surtak.

  “No,” said Lord Grendel.

  “Interesting,” said Surtak.

  “Not particularly,” said Lord Grendel.

  “As you wish,” said Surtak. He then scowled down at Lyris. “Serve, Lyris,” he said.

  “Please, no, Master,” she begged.

  “Be about it,” he said.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  Lyris then, head down, took the pan of cubical chunks of meat, and held it, first, to the Lady Bina.

  “Long ago,” said the Lady Bina, selecting a cube of meat from the pan, “I was a Kur pet, and groomed my master, and bit the lice from his pelt. Now I am served by a Kur, before whom, once, I would not have dared to raise my eyes.”

  “I am now a slave, Mistress,” said Lyris.

  “You may now serve the men,” said the Lady Bina, indicating Drusus Andronicus and Kurik, of Victoria.

  “Yes, Mistress,” said Lyris.

  She then brought the cubes to Drusus Andronicus and Kurik, of Victoria. Each selected a cube of meat, but paid her no further attention, as she was a slave.

  How that would have hurt me, and yet I knew I deserved no better. I was a slave.

  Lyris looked up, agonized, at Surtak, but Surtak gestured impatiently toward Eve and Lord Grendel.

  Lyris approached Eve, and head down, held up the plate.

  “You are very beautiful,” said Eve kindly, taking one of the cubes of meat.

  “I am a slave, Mistress,” said Lyris, gratefully.

  Did Lyris not know slaves were beautiful? Did she think there was no relationship between being beautiful and being fastened in a collar?

  Lyris then approached Lord Grendel, and, offering him the meat, looked up, her eyes wide, and a soft, begging noise escaped her.

  I was startled. It was not unlike a slave whimper, a plea to be found pleasing. Are masters not familiar with such sounds, from a slave at their feet?

  There was a sudden, ferocious shriek from Eve and she leaped upon Lyris, seized her, the pan of meat flying away, and hurled her to the ground on her belly, pushed her head down to the dirt, and snapped at the back of her neck. In unweaponed combat amongst Kurii each goes for the other’s throat or neck. It is a common martial tactic to attempt to get behind the opponent, slipping to the side, or such, for then it is difficult for the opponent to protect himself. From this position the back of the neck can be conveniently bitten through, this breaking the connection between the spinal cord and the brain. A sound of furious frustration escaped Eve as her fangs closed, scratching, about Lyris’ collar. Lord Grendel had leaped up at almost the same moment that Eve had left her position, taken hold of Eve and pulled her back, and away, from the helpless, terrified Lyris. He held Eve back, off the ground, by the arms, she squirming, snapping, hissing, and snarling at the distraught, imperiled Lyris. “No,” he said, “no, sweet, gentle Eve! Desist. Do not kill her!”

  I then realized that it was not only Lord Grendel who carried in his veins the dark, fiery blood of the Kur, but Eve, as well.

  Never had I seen Eve so provoked, so wild, so bestial.

  “Steady, steady, my sweet, my gentle, precious beloved!” said Lord Grendel, softly, soothingly.

  Lyris scrambled up, and hid herself, cowering, behind Surtak.

  Surtak himself leaped up and down with pleasure, and slapped his thighs, again and again, with delight. A roar of staccato noises escaped him, like an avalanche of uncontrolled sound. Lord Grendel’s translator appeared to emit nothing but unintelligible static. I shuddered. I was in the presence of what I recognized, half fainting with fear, as Kur merriment. Surtak was beside himself with mirth.

  “Forgive her, noble Surtak,” begged Lord Grendel. “It was but an impulse, the matter of a rash moment.”

  Surtak struggled to regain his composure.

  Eve, now released, had returned to her place, but she continued to regard Lyris balefully, and, from time to time, uttered what could be nothing but a menacing growl.

  “I am sorry,” said Lord Grendel.

  “I trust your frie
nd did not injure her fangs,” said Surtak.

  “I am sure all is well,” said Lord Grendel.

  There was a bit of blood on the left side of Eve’s jaw. It was clear her fangs were unharmed, as one could make out, from her occasional baring of them in the direction of Lyris. I think she had cut the side of her jaw on the collar.

  “I am pleased,” said Lord Grendel to Surtak, “that you managed to keep our prearranged appointment, at the agreed-upon caravanserai, that we might be apprised as to what has ensued in Ar.”

  “I owe you much,” said Surtak. “I like you. You will make a fine enemy.”

  “And you, too, I fear,” said Lord Grendel.

  Surtak then looked down at Lyris, at his feet. She quickly put her head down.

  “And you, beautiful slave,” he said, “we will see if you like the way you are chained tonight.”

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “We shall now leave,” said Surtak. “We have far to go before light. It pleases me you have made good your escape. I feared it might not be so. You are now safe.”

  “I wish you well,” said Lord Grendel.

  “And you are so wished, as well,” said Surtak.

  He then turned about, and moved away, into the darkness beyond the yard. The others, in the night, his cohorts, had apparently withdrawn farther. He, in his departure, was heeled by Lyris, his slave. We could then see them no more.

  “A fine Kur,” said Kurik.

  “Would he were of our faction,” said Lord Grendel.

  “In one respect, he was seriously misinformed,” said Drusus Andronicus.

  “Yes,” said Lord Grendel.

  “May I speak?” I asked.

  “Certainly,” said Lord Grendel.

  “In what respect,” I asked, “was Master Surtak misinformed?”

  “In that we had made good our escape, that we are safe,” said Lord Grendel.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  “Master?” I asked.

  “Strip,” said Kurik, “bathe, both of you.”

  “We have already bathed,” I said.