Kur of Gor coc-28

by John Norman

  "Yes, Mistress,” said the slave, and put down her head.

  "You may continue to feed,” said Cabot.

  "Put your knees together!” hissed the Lady Bina.

  The slave looked to Cabot, for he had given her the nadu command. He nodded, and she placed her knees together, and, head down, continued to feed.

  "She should be beaten,” said the Lady Bina.

  "Do not fear,” said Cabot. “She is a slave. Thus, it is not unlikely that she will be whipped from time to time."

  The slave shuddered, and the better knew herself slave.

  "Come, Beast,” said the Lady Bina to Grendel. “Bring me more berries, and leafage, roots, if well washed! I am hungry."

  Grendel hurried to do her bidding.

  Cabot, meanwhile, finished his bit of tharlarion. He did this without considerable enthusiasm.

  When Grendel had returned, and served the Lady Bina, Cabot spoke to him. “The tharlarion was not much good,” he said.

  "No,” agreed Grendel.

  "Are you going to kill me now?” asked Cabot.

  "Perhaps in the morning,” said Grendel.

  "Lita has prepared beds for you, such as she could,” said Cabot.

  "My thanks, Warrior,” said Grendel.

  Grendel and the Lady Bina then retired.

  "Am I to be tied tonight, Master?” asked Lita.

  "No,” said Cabot. “Moreover, as there is a free woman in the vicinity, go off a bit, and prepare yourself a bower, alone."

  "Master!” she protested.

  "We must not disturb her rest,” said Cabot, “or annoy her, or keep her up all night listening for the slightest sound like a suspicious she-urt. Thus, no thrashings about this night, no moanings, no uncontrollable gaspings, no wild, inadvertent utterances, no sudden cryings out, none of that sort of thing."

  "May I not, at least, sleep at my master's feet?"

  "No,” he said, “for I am only human."

  "Yes, Master,” she said, resigned, and began to retreat into the near darkness.

  "Lita,” he called softly.

  "Yes, Master,” she responded.

  "Are you going to run away?” he asked.

  "No,” she said.

  "Why not?” he asked.

  "I cannot,” she said. “I am chained."

  "How is that?” he asked.

  "I am held in the most perfect and inescapable of all chains,” she said.

  "What is that?” he asked.

  "That I am your slave, my Master,” she said.

  * * * *

  It was near the second Ahn when Cabot, stirring, sensed a presence near him.

  "Make no sound, Lord Tarl,” whispered the Lady Bina.

  "Where is Lord Grendel?” asked Cabot.

  "He is sleeping,” said the Lady Bina.

  "How is it that you are not tethered?” asked Cabot.

  The Lady Bina laughed, softly. “I told the beast that I would not leave my bower, and if he truly loved me, he must trust me."

  "He believed you,” said Cabot.

  "And so for the first night in days, I am neither a raft's prisoner, nor tethered ashore."

  "He trusts you,” said Cabot.

  "Yes,” said the Lady Bina.

  "What do you want?” asked Cabot.

  "I must speak with you,” she said.

  "So, speak,” said Cabot.

  "The beast,” she said, “is treasonous to the world's master."

  "The world's master,” said Cabot, “in the view of many is treasonous to the world."

  "No,” said the Lady Bina, “for it is the world's master who defines treason."

  "I see,” said Cabot.

  "You fell from his favor,” she said, “but might regain it, if you exercise audacity and judgment."

  "How so?” asked Cabot.

  "You are strong, and have a sharpened stick,” she said. “You could fall upon Grendel in the darkness, and slay him in his sleep."

  "You want him dead,” said Cabot.

  "Certainly,” she said. “He is ugly, presumptuous, repulsive, and dangerous."

  "He loves you,” said Cabot.

  "I loathe and despise him,” she said. “He is a beast, a monster, neither Kur nor human."

  "Why do you not kill him yourself?” asked Cabot.

  "I might fail,” she said.

  "Do not fear,” said Cabot. “Even so, he would probably forgive you."

  "You would not fail,” she insisted.

  "I would like to sleep,” said Cabot.

  "Kill him, and come away with me,” she said. “Think! We know much that would be of value to Lord Agamemnon. He would reward us well for what we know."

  "Lord Grendel could have killed me on the beach,” said Cabot. “He did not do so."

  "What is this?” queried the Lady Bina. “Honor?"

  "Perhaps,” said Cabot.

  "Men are fools,” she said.

  "Perhaps,” said Cabot.

  "I am beautiful, am I not?” she asked.

  "Yes,” said Cabot. “Very beautiful."

  "Come away with me,” she said. “Perhaps I will let you hold me, and touch me, and kiss me."

  "What of the slave, Lita?” inquired Cabot.

  "Abandon her,” said the Lady Bina. “Or sell the collared slut, or give her to me, as a serving slave. I will lash her into a terrified, miserable, excellent serving slave."

  "I am sure you could do that,” said Cabot.

  "I have never forgotten your kiss, by the lock in the sport cylinder,” she said.

  "It was a mistake,” said Cabot.

  "You could not help yourself,” said the Lady Bina. “You found me irresistible, irresistibly luscious, as will other men."

  "You should be collared, and sold,” said Cabot.

  "Too,” she said, softly, “I have never forgotten your touch."

  "That in the breeding shackles?"

  "Yes!” she said, angrily.

  "I think you should return to your bower,” said Cabot.

  "Touch me, again,” she said, “as you did then. I will permit you to do so."

  "Lady Bina is generous,” said Cabot.

  "Do so,” she said.

  "No,” said Cabot.

  "'No'?"

  "No."

  "I want it,” she said.

  "We often want things we cannot have,” said Cabot.

  "But I am a free woman,” she said.

  "Even so,” said Cabot.

  "I hate you,” she said.

  "You could always cry out to Lord Grendel,” said Cabot, “to rescue you from my foul grasp."

  "He would kill you,” she said.

  "If he believed you, perhaps,” said Cabot.

  "And he would still be alive,” she said.

  "Or if I should survive,” said Cabot, “you would then have me to answer to, would you not? And what do you think would then be your fate?"

  "Do you not love me?"

  "If I did not use you for bait on the beach,” said Cabot, “I might sell you, or give you to Lita, as a serving slave."

  "How can you not love me?” she asked.

  "You are an extremely beautiful and desirable woman,” he said, “and you would doubtless, stripped, bring a good price on the auction block, but, even so, it is less difficult than you surmise."

  "I can bring you not only beauty,” she said, “but position, honor, and riches."

  "That is an obvious superiority of the free woman over the slave,” he said.

  "Certainly,” she said.

  "Strange then,” said he, “how men should prefer slaves."

  "A slave's beauty,” she said, “is not even hers to bring—but others’ to buy or seize."

  "True,” said Cabot.

  "And she will not bring you wealth and power!"

  "One might sell her for a profit,” said Cabot.

  "What can one have from a slave?” she scoffed.

  "Herself,” said Cabot, “wholly, as one cannot begin to have from
a free woman."

  "They would be no more than your animal,” she said.

  "True,” said Cabot.

  "And doubtless,” she said, “an animal from whom one may have unquestioning, instantaneous obedience and, at one's least whim, inordinate pleasure."

  "Yes,” said Cabot.

  "Despicable!” she said.

  "Perhaps,” said Cabot.

  "Men wish their women to be slaves?” she said.

  "That is how they want them,” said Cabot.

  "Such as that despicable Lita,” she said.

  "She lacked much on the world, Earth,” said Cabot, “which she has now found, in a collar."

  "Come away with me,” she said. “Let us hasten to Agamemnon!"

  "I am weary,” said Cabot. “Return to your bower."

  "You refuse to kill Grendel? You refuse to accompany me to Agamemnon?"

  "Yes,” said Cabot. “Now return to your bower."

  "I hate you,” she hissed.

  "Return to your bower,” said Cabot, and turned away from her, to sleep.

  Chapter, the Thirty-Third:

  A RETURN TO THE HABITATS IS CONTEMPLATED

  The light was bright on the lake, and it was not well to look too long on its waters.

  "Why did we wait three days?” asked Cabot.

  "I hoped she would return,” said Grendel.

  "You could have followed her, could you not?” asked Cabot.

  Grendel reached to activate the small, disklike translator on his harness.

  "You do not need that,” said Cabot, irritably. “Do not put a machine between us. I can understand your Gorean."

  "My Gorean is imperfect,” said Grendel. “It has to do with the throat."

  "I can understand you quite well,” said Cabot. “Your Gorean is different, but comprehensible."

  Grendel snapped off the translator, it seemed reluctantly.

  "Yes,” said Grendel. “I suppose I might have followed her. She was barefoot, and was indiscreet in her flight, leaving various traces."

  "She did have a start,” said Cabot. “Perhaps as much as three Ahn."

  "Even so,” said Grendel.

  "Why did we not pursue her?” asked Cabot.

  "She told me she would remain in her bower,” said Grendel. “I trusted her."

  "A tragic mistake,” said Cabot. “In three Ahn she might well have come to a trail, and encountered Kur patrols."

  "What is love,” asked Grendel, “if there is no trust?"

  "Do you think she loves you?” asked Cabot.

  "No,” said Grendel.

  "She is a treacherous little she-urt,” said Cabot, “and should have been kept on a tether, bound hand and foot, naked."

  "Please,” said Grendel, reprovingly, “she is a free woman."

  "Blindfolded and gagged,” said Cabot, angrily.

  "Do not be angry with her,” said Grendel. “She is beautiful."

  "She might have made contact with Agamemnon's people within Ahn of her flight,” said Cabot.

  "True,” granted Grendel.

  "Look,” said Cabot, suddenly, pointing to a stirring in the water.

  "Tharlarion,” said Grendel, resting on the mighty oar with which he propelled the raft.

  Grendel then again plied his mighty lever.

  "Lita,” said Cabot, “lie nearer the center of the raft."

  The slave crawled closer to the center of the large, rude raft, some yards in width, and lay there, supine, her left arm shading her eyes from the light, amidst the small store of supplies, one property amongst others. She was tunicked, and about her waist a rope was fastened, which rope was fastened, too, to the raft. By means of this arrangement, in the event of a storm, or an attack by tharlarion, should she be pitched into the water, she would not be separated from the raft, but would have at her disposal a means for regaining its surface. Cabot found it difficult to take his eyes off her. Her arms were bare, as is common with a slave tunic. The tunic itself was quite short, as is common, too, with such garments. Yes, Cabot thought, the slave is nicely legged, and that would doubtless, on a sales block, improve her price. How utterly marvelous are women, he thought. How excruciatingly desirable, and marvelous, they are! It is no wonder, he thought, that men want them, and want them as slaves. It is no wonder that they are sought, hunted, captured, and collared. He regarded the collar on her neck. How right it was there, unslippable, closely encircling her neck. How beautiful it was! And how beautiful she was, collared! And it was his collar!

  "We will try to reach the far shore,” said Grendel.

  "To eventually obtain access to the habitats,” said Cabot.

  "Yes,” said Grendel.

  "I trust,” said Cabot, “to join those who would stand against the Eleventh Face of the Nameless One."

  "Perhaps,” said Grendel.

  "I fear it is too late,” said Cabot. “Indeed, by now the world may be abundantly repopulated, with numerous reinforcements for Agamemnon, the fleet having returned."

  "True,” said Grendel, “and we may be dealt with, on sight, with power weapons."

  "I advised against dalliance,” said Cabot.

  "I thought she might return,” said Grendel.

  "Why did you take her with you in your flight?” asked Cabot.

  "Many wanted her life,” said Grendel. “I took her with me to protect her. I feared she would be sent to the pens, as cattle."

  "She betrayed you,” said Cabot.

  "I strove to protect her,” said Grendel. “I could not continue to do so unless she were with me."

  "And now?” asked Cabot.

  "She may need me,” said Grendel.

  "Forget her,” said Cabot.

  "I cannot,” said Grendel.

  "She is your enemy,” said Cabot.

  "I am not her enemy,” said Grendel.

  "You would sacrifice a world, for one sly, cunning, treacherous she-urt?"

  "I love her,” said Grendel.

  "I fear you are unwise, my friend,” said Cabot.

  "I am part human,” said Grendel.

  The slave stretched, languorously, and sat up, looking about.

  She smiled at her master, and looked away, over the water.

  What a clever little she-sleen she is, thought Cabot. Surely she knows what that smile can do to a man. How innocent it seems, and how devastating. How such a smile can twist the insides of a fellow! Well, he consoled himself, he could have her whenever he wished. She, that sinuous little Earth slut, now goods, now no more than salable, purchasable collar meat, was his!

  "Master!” she suddenly cried, pointing upward.

  Cabot and Grendel looked upward.

  It was very small, and somehow between the lake and the forests overhead.

  "See the wings,” said Grendel. “It is in the area where such things can propel one, where there is little fastening to the cylinder surface."

  "As in the shuttles,” said Cabot.

  "Yes,” said Grendel.

  "Has he seen us?” asked Cabot.

  "I do not think so,” said Grendel.

  * * * *

  They had been now on the lake for two days.

  Cabot assisted with the oar from time to time, but it was Grendel who plied it tirelessly, sometimes when Cabot and his slave slept.

  They had seen two tharlarion but neither had approached the raft. They had seen nothing further in the sky above them, save for the forests and meadows overhead, on the other side of the cylinder.

  Two more days had then passed.

  "Tomorrow we will make landfall,” said Grendel.

  It was at that point that the slave had leaped to her feet, and screamed, and pointed.

  Grendel thrust the oar back on the raft and seized up the long ax.

  A massive head, glistening, shedding water, on a long neck, had emerged from the water, not yards from the raft.

  "That is carnivorous,” said Cabot, picking up the sharpened stick he had formed into a makeshift spear.
r />   "Master!” cried the slave, frightened, miserably.

  "Get behind me,” said Cabot, and the slave scurried behind him, and crouched down.

  Whether she lived or died, she well understood, would depend on the courage and prowess of others. She was half naked, collared, and weaponless. But it would not have been otherwise had she been free, and terrified, quivering helplessly within ornate robes. In either case she would be a woman dependent on men, on larger, stronger, fiercer beasts, for her very survival. When there is fighting, slaves are often chained, that they will helplessly await the outcome of war, and their disposition, and free women, too, are often sequestered, that they may not by their presence compromise defenses or complicate ensuant adjudications. Women on Gor are not men. In their smallness, softness, slightness, weakness, loveliness and beauty they are either treasures to be protected, or, if things turn out badly, prizes to be distributed. They must wait to learn if they are to be rejoicing guests at a victory banquet or stripped slaves serving it.

  Gor is a man's world, you see, and women are men's.

  "We are closer to land,” said Grendel. “Such things are commonly found closer to shore. Some beach at night. Some hunt on the beaches at night. There is more forage closer to shore, for fish, for herbivores, for their prey."

  The head moved on the long neck, swaying, snakelike, which seemed odd in an aquatic creature.

  "It may not take us as food,” said Grendel, his ax lifted.

  "It is submerging!” said Cabot.

  There was a subtle, gentle subsidence in the water where the great body slipped beneath the surface.

  "Master!” cried the slave, pointing back.

  Another large head, similar to the first, though perhaps of a different species of aquatic tharlarion, had broken the surface.

  Its head was only four feet or so from the surface. Its neck was thicker and shorter than that of their first visitor.

  "There is another!” shrieked the slave.

  This head was similar to that of the first, doubtless of the same species. In a moment both of these new arrivals had slipped beneath the surface.

  "They are gone,” said Cabot.

  "Cling to the raft!” said Grendel, standing.

  Cabot and the slave held to the ropes binding the huge logs together.

  Almost at the same moment the raft seemed to leap upward in the water, some great back beneath it, and then, with a mighty splash that drenched the occupants of the primitive vessel it struck back down into the water.