by John Norman
"The arrangements have been made, have they not?” asked Lord Grendel.
"I set forth our proposals,” said Cabot. “One does not know if they will be acted upon or not."
"You did all that was possible,” said Lord Grendel.
"I think so,” said Cabot.
"I would,” said Lord Grendel, “that the burdens of command rested upon another."
"I am pleased that they repose where they do,” said Cabot. “There is no other so fit as you for these risks, and so able to bear the weight and terror of command."
"I am afraid,” said Lord Grendel.
"I, too,” said Cabot.
"I am weak,” said Lord Grendel. “Doubtless it is the human in me."
"Who knows?” said Cabot. “The human in you may prove to be a strength."
"How could that be?” asked Lord Grendel.
"Doubtless it is foolish,” said Cabot.
"I think so,” said Lord Grendel.
Lord Grendel suddenly lifted his head, and the large, pointed ears turned, as one, in a given direction, cupped, leaning forward, intent, toward the open plain, that not so far from the hemisphere of rocks, amongst which lay, concealed, a womb tunnel, indeed, that very womb tunnel in which Lord Grendel and Cabot, earlier, eluding a Kur patrol, had sought shelter.
A moment afterward Statius’ head, as well, lifted, ears erected, and turned similarly.
Cabot was with them, and the three were reconnoitering, far from their base camp. Through this area lay the route proposed for certain of the groups invited to the gathering. Several diverse routes had been delineated, largely to minimize the danger of discovery, and, in the case of discovery, to minimize consequent losses. The rebel forces were not to be concentrated until the gathering, and the subsequent march in force upon the palace.
"What is it?” asked Cabot, softly, for he had heard nothing.
Lord Grendel motioned for Cabot to come forward.
"Look,” said Lord Grendel. “But stay back, in the trees."
The three were at the edge of one of the many forested areas outside the major habitats.
Kurii tend to like cover.
From their position they could see down into a plain, and to the rocky outcroppings, and the cliffs, beyond.
"Cattle humans,” said Cabot. “You heard their bleatings?"
"Not that,” said Grendel.
"They seem to stir,” said Cabot. “They are restless!"
"Look there,” said Lord Grendel.
"I see,” said Cabot. “Humans."
"Yes,” said Lord Grendel.
"They seem to be coming out of the cliff,” said Cabot.
"As we did,” said Grendel, soberly. “They are coming out of the womb tunnel."
"Killer humans,” said Cabot.
"Yes,” said Grendel.
Cabot could see several of the humans, who moved with stealth and agility, very differently from the lethargic, shambling motions of the massive cattle humans, bred for stupidity and meat.
As Cabot watched, he saw more and more of the humans emerging from the tunnel.
"There must be twenty or more, all males,” said Cabot.
"Wait,” said Grendel. “There will be females."
"What are they doing in the tunnel?” said Statius. His body language, and the rasp of his phonemes, suggested extreme agitation.
Lord Grendel put out his paw, to restrain his confrere.
"I do not think they are harming the wombs,” said Grendel. “I doubt that they even understand them."
"Perhaps they are hunting cattle humans,” said Statius.
"I do not doubt they cull the herds when hungry, as would the minions of Agamemnon,” said Lord Grendel, “but I think they are otherwise intent at the moment."
"But they are hunting?” said Cabot.
"Not us, surely,” said Statius. “They would not know we are here."
"No,” said Lord Grendel. “Not us."
The twenty, or so, humans, now emerged from the cave, had arrested their advance, and now seemed to be scanning the plain, surveying the herd of cattle humans.
"Look,” said Cabot, pointing. “There are females. Coming out of the cave now, females!"
"Of course,” said Lord Grendel.
"They are being driven, herded, with sticks,” said Cabot. “They are naked, and roped together, by the neck."
"Certainly,” said Grendel. “They are the females of killer humans."
"See how they turn them,” said Statius, “and mill them, and they do not know what to do or how to move."
The females were then crowded together.
Sticks struck them, sharply, and they recoiled in pain, trying to turn away from the blows.
"They are crying out, in fear, and in misery,” said Statius.
"I cannot hear them, at this distance,” said Cabot.
"We can,” said Statius.
The females then, presumably at the utterance of some command, or in response to some gesture, all went to all fours, in the grass.
The men, with long, sharpened sticks, continued to look about.
"You think they are hunting?” said Cabot.
"I think so,” said Lord Grendel.
"What?” asked Cabot.
"Women,” said Lord Grendel. “Indeed, I would not be surprised if some of those women were taken from other groups, killer humans against killer humans."
"I see,” said Cabot.
Kurii, it might be mentioned, are not the only species which take the females of other groups for mates, thralls, servants, slaves, and such. It is common amongst rational species. The female has always been an attractive and desiderated object of predation. Indeed, for a male, what other object of interest can compare? Out-group females, in particular, have often been regarded as subject to barter, to sale, to capture, and such. The female has always been regarded as goods, or booty, and energetic and powerful groups have always understood this, and seldom hesitated to act upon this understanding, bringing women, or at least the more attractive women, of weaker groups, or enemy groups, when raided or conquered, to the slave markets.
"See how the women crouch down in fear,” said Lord Grendel.
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"It is not so different from Gor, is it?” asked Lord Grendel.
"No,” said Cabot. “—That is, with slaves."
"Good,” said Lord Grendel. “Slaves are to be understood as slaves, and treated as slaves."
"Certainly,” said Cabot.
"Even a Lita?” said Lord Grendel.
"Of course,” said Cabot.
"The important thing,” said Lord Grendel, “is that the order of nature be scrupulously observed, whether primitively, or enhanced with the amenities of civilization."
"Certainly,” said Cabot.
"Locked collars are useful,” said Lord Grendel.
"That way one, at least, knows to whom they belong,” said Cabot.
"Those below,” said Statius, “may be held in common, but, too, they might be individually marked, that one know their owner."
"It probably depends on the group,” said Grendel.
"It must be much easier to be a slave in civilization than otherwise,” said Statius.
"No,” said Lord Grendel. “Much to the contrary. A slave in civilization is a thousand times more a slave, a thousand times more helplessly, inalterably, and perfectly a slave, than one in a different venue."
"I do not understand,” said Statius.
"Consider something as simple as collars,” said Lord Grendel.
"They are attractive,” said Statius.
"Of course,” said Lord Grendel, “but they are also locked on their necks, and they cannot remove them."
"I see,” said Statius.
"Too,” said Lord Grendel, “as an additional consideration, as an additional assurance, convenience, and precaution, the slaves are nicely marked."
"Marked?” said Statius.
"Branded,” said Lord Grendel, “g
iven beautiful brands, which not only enhance their beauty, but separate them unmistakably from free women. Too, they are forced to wear, if clothed at all, a distinctive garb which could only be that of a slave, a garb so brief, revealing, and provocative that in it, as some see it, they are more naked than naked."
"Still, is their slavery not easier in a civilization than in a rude culture?” asked Statius.
"No,” said Lord Grendel, “not at all, for in a civilization, as may not be the case in a barbarism, the truths of nature are recognized, understood, accepted, and explicitly celebrated."
"It depends on the civilization,” said Cabot.
"Perhaps,” said Lord Grendel.
"A civilization,” said Lord Grendel, “is far superior to barbarism. It supplies advantages and benefits unknown to barbarism. In a civilization the ways of nature are not only understood and accepted, even embraced, but, further, beyond anything known in barbarism, they are refined, enhanced, and incorporated deliberately and inextricably into the very nature of society."
"I see,” said Statius.
"In a civilization the slave is a particular sort of thing, and understood to be that, and nothing beyond that, nothing further, or other. It is what she is. It is she. She has a recognized nature, condition, status, and identity, which she is incapable of altering or qualifying in any way whatsoever. She is an accepted article of commerce, or form of animal, valued for the labors she can perform and the manifold pleasures, intimate and otherwise, which she must provide. Her appearance in society is no accident. She is no mere accretion or happenstance in society. She is a part of it, an important part of it, and fully ingredient within it. That must be understood. She is implicated in a venerable institution, that of bondage. It is an ancient institution, historically founded, socially proven, honored, and unquestioned. And it is a matter not simply of time and tradition, you must understand, but of mores, customs, practices, an ethos, and abundant and tested law."
"I can see,” said Statius, “where the slave in a civilization is more helplessly and inalterably a slave than one in a simpler, ruder, more primitive situation, but, still, would their lives not be easier?"
Lord Grendel snorted, a derisive Kur laugh.
"Lord Grendel?” said Statius.
"Perhaps if they strove desperately and mightily to be absolutely pleasing, in all ways,” said Lord Grendel.
"I see,” said Statius.
"One buys them for a purpose,” said Lord Grendel. “They will be kept with perfection."
"They are slaves,” said Cabot. “It is the Gorean way."
"But, surely,” said Statius, “they will not be cruelly roped, as are the cowering properties below, those of the killer humans."
"More likely they would be chained by the neck, perhaps to a master's slave ring, at his couch's foot,” said Cabot.
"But they need not fear the brutality of simple sticks, surely,” said Statius, “as those below."
"No,” said Lord Grendel. “Seldom would they need to fear the blow of a simple stick."
"That is as I suspected,” said Statius.
"But civilization,” said Lord Grendel, “improves considerably on such things, advancing far beyond a stick."
"I do not understand,” said Statius.
"Surely far superior to a rude stick,” said Lord Grendel, “is an article devised to fulfill a similar purpose, and far more effectively, say, a lovely, sturdy, pliant, attractively beaded, well-crafted slave whip."
"A whip?” said Statius.
"Certainly,” said Cabot.
"And do the slaves understand such things?"
"If they do not understand them at first,” said Cabot, “they will soon understand them."
"I am to understand then, am I not,” said Statius, “that the slave in civilization is not only more a slave than a slave in another venue, but that she is in far greater jeopardy, has more to fear, and is likely to be more sharply and perfectly disciplined."
"Yes,” said Lord Grendel.
"But they have little to fear, actually,” said Cabot, “if they are perfectly pleasing, in all ways."
"But if they are not?” asked Statius.
"Then,” said Cabot, “they have a great deal to fear."
"I understand,” said Statius.
"The important thing, however,” said Cabot, “is not the whip. Indeed, one would hope, on the whole, that it would not be necessary to use it on her. The important thing is the girl's recognition of the whip's jurisdiction over her, that she is subject to it. Her fear of the whip, and her understanding that it will be used on her if she is not pleasing, is usually all the motivation she requires to do her best to please."
"I see,” said Statius.
"And interestingly,” said Cabot, “after a time, fear of the whip becomes less of a motivation for her than the desire itself to be found pleasing by her master."
"I see,” said Statius.
"It is then, in her heart,” said Cabot, “that she understands that she is truly a slave."
"Interesting,” said Statius.
"There is little point,” said Cabot, “in whipping a good slave, save perhaps, occasionally, to remind her that she is a slave."
"They want that,” said Lord Grendel.
"It seems so,” said Cabot.
"The whip is useful in keeping women in line,” said Lord Grendel.
"Yes,” said Cabot, “and I trust you remember all this, should the Lady Bina be snatched from the side of Agamemnon, and come into our power."
"She is different,” said Lord Grendel. “She is a free woman."
"Some of the killer humans,” said Statius, “seem to be threading their way amongst the cattle humans."
"Only two,” said Lord Grendel.
"Surely they are not interested in cattle females,” said Statius.
"Scarcely,” said Lord Grendel. “Not even cattle males are interested in them. In the pens the cattle humans were reproduced by means of artificial insemination."
Suddenly Lord Grendel's ears lifted, and he turned to the field, and he began to gaze intently toward the mingled cattle humans, and he began to tremble, uncontrollably.
"What is wrong?” said Cabot, alarmed.
Statius suddenly uttered a sound, clearly of astonishment, but it was no word, or at least none programmed into Cabot's translator.
"What is it?” asked Cabot, in earnest.
"He heard it,” said Statius. “I, too, heard it. Can you not hear it?"
"No,” said Cabot. “What is it?"
"Down there,” said Statius, intent, pointing.
Cabot shaded his eyes, and narrowed them, but he saw little other than the grass, the cliffs and rocks behind it, the massed cattle, forward, in the plain, and two, only two, killer humans beginning to move through the herd, slowly, deliberately, watchfully, thrusting or striking one beast or another from their path.
"Surely you heard it then!” said Statius.
"No,” said Cabot. “What is it?"
"See, toward the nearer part of the herd?” said Statius.
"They are restless, surely,” said Cabot.
"Agitated, disturbed,” said Statius.
"Something is amongst them!” said Cabot.
"Clearly,” said Statius.
Cabot then heard a cry from below, from one of the killer humans, who now pointed toward a portion of the herd, rather where the stirring had been remarked. He, and his fellow, then began to press more vigorously, more intently, roughly, amongst the gross, sluggish bodies of the herd.
Then Cabot, for the first time, heard the sound which had been noted earlier by Lord Grendel and Statius, and, at almost the same time, saw a small, struggling body in the grasp of one of the cattle humans, and he then heard the sound again, and again, as the small body was lifted and shaken in fury by its obese captor, the sound of the bell from the pens, the bell which the cattle humans were to unwittingly follow to the slaughter bench, and Lord Grendel, with a roar of rage, had spru
ng from the shelter of the trees, and was bounding, on all fours, on feet and knuckles of forepaws, in Kur haste, toward the herd.
The cattle human, massive even for a cattle human, doubtless the herd leader, soon noted the approach of a gigantic Kurlike figure moving toward him with great rapidity.
He instantly flung his prize, rolling to the grass, bell jangling, from him, and backed into the herd.
Cabot had little doubt Lord Grendel was intent upon tearing his throat out.
Lord Grendel stopped, though, at the edge of the herd, lifted his mighty arms, and roared, a Kur roar that echoed back from the cliffs beyond.
The two killer humans were not unaware of his arrival, and they, exchanging cries, something between speech and signals, ceased to prosecute their passage through the herd, and made their way back, almost as though through chest-high water, to the company of their colleagues, nearer the exit of the womb tunnel, and on the herd's far side.
At the same side the small figure freed by the massive cattle human, flung from him, regained its feet, and fled through the grass.
Lord Grendel was then between the fleeing figure and the herd, and, farther back, the killer humans.
Nothing moved from the herd, and the herd leader, bleating in fear, and protest, moved further back into the herd, using it as a wall to separate himself from the angry, hostile figure who was threateningly close.
Some of the herd held rocks, and three or four held branches, but none ventured to engage Lord Grendel.
Indeed, in moments, most of the beasts of the herd, in their doltish fashion, had returned to their pursuits, as though nothing had happened, scratching for grubs and worms, digging here and there to uncover edible roots. From the mouth of one dangled a small snake.
The killer humans, on the far side of the herd, had now congregated together, and were regarding Lord Grendel, who roared once more.
Cabot then, bow strung, an arrow to the string, a quiver at his hip, laden with the birds of death, emerged from the forest. So, too, did Statius.
Whereas the killer humans might, or might not, have surprised and attacked a single, preferably unarmed Kur, it was a different matter altogether to attack two who were aware, ready, and aroused. Also, although they did not themselves possess the bow, they understood it. They would not go against a bow with sticks, and certainly not across a distance, in full daylight.