by John Norman
He was as strong, as swift, and possibly as ruthless, as a Kur. The heritage, and the hereditary coils, of Kurii were like cables in his blood, like steel in every corpuscle of his massive body.
And Peisistratus had made it clear that Grendel wanted the prisoner.
Cabot heard a cry, as of a bird. The hunting party must now be within the purview of those concealed amongst the rocks.
Suddenly the blonde was absolutely quiet.
She understands, thought Cabot. She now understands! Now let her be afraid. How will Kurii regard her, after this evening?
Will she be torn to pieces?
Will she be dragged to the shuttle port and eaten alive?
Will they remand her to the cattle pens, she fully aware, awaiting perhaps for weeks her turn on the slaughter bench?
Perhaps they will give her to Peisistratus, for his men in the pleasure cylinder?
To be sure, thought Cabot, this is only one party, hunting, and it is not that of Lord Pyrrhus’ cohorts, for it lacks sleen. I cannot hope to elude sleen. I must distance myself from the humans. But I have tried to do something for them. If they learn to deal with Kurii, with concerted action, then perhaps isolated groups, enemies over territory, may join together, if only temporarily, for purposes of defense, or, if appropriate, aggression.
He heard again the cry, as of a bird.
It will be soon, thought Cabot.
The prisoner turned about, trying to lift her head, and regard him.
Women look well, tied, he thought, even as free women.
His thoughts strayed to the former Miss Pym.
The former Miss Pym was now a slave. It was done. The matter was concluded. It had been proclaimed openly and irreversibly. It was a consequence of her own act. It had been self-confessed, self-acknowledged, self-proclaimed. As a result of such an act a slaver might put her up, instantly, for sale. Yet he was sure that she did not understand the factual, legal actuality of her condition. Her background had not prepared her to understand, he supposed, at least fully, and consciously, the nature of her own act. He had little doubt that she was still terrified of the slave of her, the actual, natural slave of her, and would struggle to conceal her, and deny her, even frantically.
The blonde now began to make piteous noises, no longer angry, or defiant. She is trying to plead, thought Cabot, such pathetic, tiny, futile noises. See, too, how she holds her body absolutely still.
She would like to warn the Kurii, of course.
Archon would have seen to it that something of a trail, a dislodged pebble, a crushed leaf, a snapped twig, a bit of fur seemingly snagged on a branch, would draw the party in this direction. Excellent. We need now only the bells, signaling the locus of the prey, perhaps clustered about the bait. She wishes to warn the Kurii? Good. Let her do so.
Cabot bent to the tied ankles of the blonde and freed them of the leash's tether. She looked up at him, gratefully, relievedly. She awkwardly scrambled to her feet and lifted her face to him, uttering tiny, pleading sounds, that he might free her of the heavy, obdurate packing and straps which so effectively denied her speech. Cabot, instead, wound the leash several times about her throat, and tucked in one end, that it might remain in place. She turned about, lifting her tied wrists to him, but he took her by the arms, she facing away from him, and shook her, creating a jangling of bells.
She was horrified.
She tried then to stand still, absolutely still.
"You are pretty,” Cabot whispered in her ear. “And you look well in a slave tunic. I wonder if you know how attractive you are in such a garment. I do not doubt but what you would sell well."
She tried to remain perfectly still.
He then gave her another vigorous shake, and there was another jangle of bells, which must have carried well into the forest.
He then hurled her from him, several feet, rolling, jangling, to the dirt, away from the opening in the defile.
She scrambled to her feet and looked wildly about.
Cabot was between her and the opening.
She turned about and tried to scramble up the steep sides of the defile, once, twice, three times, and each time, her hands tied behind her, she lost her footing, and slid, or rolled, to the pitlike depression in the bottom of the defile.
Then, on a fourth try, she managed, sliding and slipping, to attain the surface, but was there seized by one of the humans, who then thrust her back, rolling down the incline, to its bottom.
Certainly the intensity of the noise, the jangling of the bells, might suggest rapidity, and urgency, perhaps associated with fleeing prey animals.
The purpose of the bait is to cluster the prey, and keep it together, but the frenzy of the jangling must surely now suggest the need for speed in the pursuit, the noise perhaps signaling the escape and scattering of startled prey.
Cabot gestured that the blonde should approach him, and she did, in misery, terrified. He then unwound the twice-braided leash from her throat, took it in hand, and knelt her beside him, a bit behind him, on the left, where slaves commonly kneel when accompanying a master.
She uttered piteous noises.
Cabot hoped that Kurii would infer that she was guiltless in this trap, and was no more than a hapless, blameless tool in an unexpected stratagem. This, of course, too, was true. But Cabot did not suppose that her masters would necessarily see things in precisely this light.
At that point, roaring, and running, half bent over, several Kurii rushed into the defile.
Chapter, the Seventeenth:
HOW THE HUNT TURNED OUT
There were ten of them, as expected.
One, he was sure, was Arcesilaus, the blonde's owner.
Seeing only Cabot and the blonde before them, the Kurii, startled, stopped. They looked about for humans. Surely they had expected to find humans, doubtless fleeing, to be rapidly pursued. They had not understood that the defile was closed beyond the opening, that there was no exit opposite the opening. Had there been humans they would have been trapped in the defile. This doubtless puzzled the Kurii, for it was uncharacteristic of cunning prey animals to allow themselves to be trapped in such a manner. It did not even occur to them that it might be they who stood in some jeopardy.
Cabot lifted his hand to them in Gorean greeting. “Tal,” he said.
At that point the first large stone, hurled from above, struck one of the Kurii on the shoulder, and he spun about, howling, holding his arm, which now seemed to dangle uselessly from his shoulder. Kurii looked up, wildly, astonished, and met a rain of stones, large and small. Two were struck about the head, and one fell to the ground. They tried to fend away the stones and more than one limb was shattered. Then several boulders, rolled to the edge of the height by more than one man, were tumbled down the steep sides of the defile, and bounded into the defile. Two Kurii were struck by these objects, one squarely in the chest, and he staggered back and lost his footing, and fell against the wall, and then, scratching at the wall, and turning, he regained his feet, and, in fury, raised his arms and sought to roar, but the sound was odd, half choked, air and blood rushing from the fanged jaws. Then he seemed dazed, and disoriented, and staggered again, and then fell, and then spat blood into the dirt. And about the top of the defile were now better than two dozen humans again hurling stones downward, stones easily the size of a man's head. The Kurii were disconcerted, and surely taken unawares. Then, in the confusion, several humans, screaming, and carrying their pointed sticks, slid into the defile, and others rushed forward, through the opening. The Kurii had not encountered humans in this manner before, for humans had always fled from them. But the humans were not now fleeing, but attacking, and relentlessly, and viciously, and, moreover, the Kurii were considerably outnumbered. When one tried to defend itself from a sharpened stick three or four other humans, like sleen hanging on the flanks of a larl, drove their points deep into hairy bodies. In moments, four Kurii were dead, and there was not one other that was not bloodied, and the six remaining Kurii, snarlin
g, and tearing and biting, and sweeping about them with their spears, broke through the opening, and the massed humans, to the forest beyond. Cabot signaled that the humans should follow them and continue to attack them. They must not be allowed an opportunity to regroup, or even, clearly, to grasp what had occurred.
It is not unusual that the hunted may become the hunter. The larl, for example, will commonly circle, or double back, and stalk its hunters.
But this was the first time that this had occurred with humans.
That night humans fed on Kur. Cabot did not join them, for he was reluctant to feed on rational animals.
He did return two slaves, Tula and Lana, to Archon, and take his leave of the humans.
He took with him the blonde, leashed and bound, and gagged, but now relieved of her bells.
Chapter, the Eighteenth:
THE LEDGE
One supposes that it was foolish of Cabot to return the blonde to the vicinity of the shuttle port, that she not be left to the beasts and humans of the forest, but such activities are not unprecedented amongst humans. Presumably, too, it ill behooves a member of one species to comment on peculiarities in the behavior of another. She was, of course, in Cabot's view, a free woman. Perhaps that made a difference. On the other hand it seems likely that he would have behaved similarly had she been no more than a slave. Humans are strange. They like to own, and master, their women, and fully, and even to the whip, but, too, they will commonly go to great lengths to care for them, to nurture them, and defend them. Many are willing to die for them. What men want of women is a slave; what women want of men is a master.
At the shuttle port the blonde had put down her head and rubbed it against the chest of Cabot, half in fear, half in gratitude. It was a gesture not unlike one which a Kur pet might accord her master.
Cabot then put her from him, and turned to enter the forest, but turned suddenly, angrily, back, half snarling in frustration, went to her, and, in a stride or two, seized her by the arms, and lifted her before him. He held her so for some moments, regarding her closely. She was, as I understand it, a comely female of his species. Certainly the Priest-Kings must have selected her with care, having placed her for their purposes in his container on the Prison Moon. And one suspects that there was little that Cabot could not discern of her attractions, as she was in a slave tunic. There was doubtless a call of blood to blood. Had she been a slave, or, perhaps, even fully human, Cabot might have taken her in hand, and provided himself with the joy of her. She was, of course, a free woman. Perhaps that made a difference. He did not, in short, in the end, put her to his pleasure, either abruptly or violently, or with patience and leisure, as is sometimes done with a slave, as she writhes and gasps, and begs piteously in her ropes or chains that he not desist in his attentions. To be sure, she would be at his mercy, and he would do as he pleases, for she is only a slave. But he did draw her to him, as he was human, and, holding her head so she could not move or escape, he placed his lips upon hers. And then more forcibly. He drew back a little, and she looked up at him, with something like wonder. This act, which seems to be a cultural act, was not fully understood by her.
It is an act not uncommon amongst humans, or, indeed, certain other species, but it is not universal even amongst humans. Universal, of course, are sexual advances, provocations, and such, of one sort or another, uncustomary nearnesses, touchings, caressings, rubbings, postures, dances, and so on. Amongst Kurii nibblings and bitings are common, not to injure, but rather to signal that harm, which might be done, is not done. The male, for example, may close his teeth on the female, possessively, but not tear her, and the female, in response, if acquiescent, may similarly bite at the male, as though defensively, but not to the point of blood. If she is not acquiescent she can inflict serious injury. Kur courtship, so to speak, is analogous to circling, and leaping, and feigned biting, which sometimes becomes dangerous. Indeed, observers unaware of these things sometimes think two Kurii are fighting, and not courting. The Kur male, like the human male, tends to be larger and stronger than the female of the species, which may well account for the survival of the species, as the female must be impregnated with or without her consent if the species is to survive. The Kur female is large and dangerous, but the Kur male is even larger and more dangerous, and, in the final accounting, he may hold her in place, and do with her as he wishes. To be sure, much depends on the nature of the species.
The general pervasiveness of the conjunction of the lips amongst humans suggests that something more than simple cultural idiosyncrasy may be involved, presumably on a level not immediately accessible to consciousness, a level in which the act is understood as symbolic, and analogous to, and suggestive of, and preliminary to, more intimate conjunctions. This is perhaps why certain human cultures object to the meeting of the lips in the fashion in question. For example, Gorean free women are commonly veiled in public, at least in part, presumably, that their provocative lips not be publicly exposed. Indeed, one of the things most dreaded by a Gorean free woman, particularly of high caste, is that they will be face-stripped and their lips exposed to public view, as though they might be those of a slave. That slaves are not permitted veiling, and that their lips must be exposed to all, even in public, is regarded as one of the shames imposed on a slave.
One of the reasons many Goreans consider women of the world Earth as fit for slaves is because many bare their lips publicly. This initial lack of concern with facial nudity commonly arouses contempt in not only Gorean free women for Earth-origin female slaves, but the contempt of Gorean female slaves, as well. Indeed, often the Earth-origin female slave, as she grows more familiar with Gor, becomes acutely conscious of the baring of her face, that she is denied veiling, that males may look upon her as they wish, and so on. It is the same, is it not, with kaiila, pet sleen, and such? Animals are not veiled. Later, however, as she learns her collar, and realizes its proclamation of her desirability, attractiveness, and beauty, and learns the joy of bondage, and her role in, and importance in, Gorean society, she is likely to walk proudly, head high, shoulders back, and brazenly display her master's property. No longer does it concern her that free women will hate her and that other Gorean female slaves will now regard her as a serious rival. She has now learned that such as she is likely to sell as well from the auction block as they. To be sure, she will be wise to humble herself before free women, and kneel, and cringe and grovel, as any other Gorean female slave. It is not pleasant to be switched.
But to return to the meeting of lips, or the pressing or touching of lips, by one or both parties, and such, which the translator, upon inquiry, suggests may be spoken of as a kiss, we note that the slave may be kissed and must kiss whenever the master pleases, and however he pleases, for she is owned. Similarly, the master commands not only the lips of the slave, but her tongue, teeth, hair, hands, and body. All of her, you see, belongs to him. She exists for his service and pleasure. She usually cooks, cleans and launders for him, and, in general, cares for his clothing, his belongings, including herself, and his quarters. She welcomes him to his domicile, kneeling. She is no stranger to petitionings, placations, prostrations, and obeisances. She is familiar with helplessness and subordination, for she is a slave. She is not unfamiliar with chains and ropes, or hoods, blindfolds and gags. Such things liberate her sexually and remind her, and clearly, that she is not a free woman. She is likely to be trained in duties both domestic and erotic. Once the slave fires have been lit in her belly, her freedom is behind her. Henceforth, she belongs to men. Thus one should not be surprised to find her on her knees before a man, her head down, kissing his feet, in piteous supplication for his touch.
She is slave.
And so Cabot had pressed his lips, and forcibly, upon those of the grasped, startled pet of Arcesilaus.
Doubtless she found the experience to which she had been subjected puzzling, but, too, it seems, not distasteful.
Doubtless, too, it produced an unfamiliar unease within her lov
ely body, presumably associated with suddenly effectuated receptivities. The act may have spoken to her below the daylight of consciousness, like a whispering in the secret night of her belly, but, too, perhaps there was involved no more than a calling of blood to blood, so to speak.
It may help to understand this if we make it clear that Arcesilaus, despite several invitations, some coined, had never put her out to use, even after the reddening of her soft thighs. She had never been locked in the breeding shackles. She had, of course, given her age and health, been often stirred and troubled by scarcely understood sexual curiosities and promptings. But she could make little of these disturbing hormonal afflictions. Many she had not even understood as sexual in nature. Her master had not had her spayed. She did find herself upon occasion uneasy in the presence of human males, but there were few it seemed in the Steel World, other than in the cattle pens, who were bred largely amongst themselves, for meat and stupidity, and of those elsewhere encountered, many were pets, and of little interest, being indolent, and passive, and neutered.
Cabot angrily thrust the blonde from him, and turned to face the forest.
She whimpered.
He could hear, more clearly now, the sounds of sleen. He had been aware for Ahn of their entrance, two beasts, with a hunting party of eight, as he counted, through the shuttle port. But he had set a trail which was lengthy and circuitous to gain time, and permit him to return, after circling about, to bring the blonde to the entrance of the shuttle port. Before engaging in this endeavor he had, within the forest, placed his prisoner, still leashed and gagged, on her belly in the leaves before a lofty Tur tree, and knelt across her body. He had then freed her hands and turned her about, and retied them before her body. He had then, turning her again to her belly, with one strand of the double-braided leash, fastened her hands, already bound, closely against her belly, and knotted the holding strap behind the small of her back. With the second strand of the leash he improvised a sling and, with one loop under her arms and the other behind the back of her knees, and she behind him, he began to climb the tree. On a high branch, some seventy or eighty feet above the ground, he sat her back against the trunk of the tree, and, with the second strand of the leash, fastened her in place, by the feet, belly, and neck. The height, he hoped, and her silence, would protect her from predators, of various sorts. The branches would be likely to break beneath a larl and the sleen, a ground animal, is reluctant to climb. She might hope that hunting humans might not look upward. She regarded Cabot piteously, and squirmed a little, helplessly. She could not free herself, as she had been tied by a Gorean warrior. Such are taught the binding of prisoners. Indeed, even Gorean boys are taught the binding of women, given slaves on which to practice, of course. She whimpered, a tiny sound, muffled within the fur and straps of her gag. She looked at Cabot. In his eyes there was no mercy. She would remain as she was. She whimpered and squirmed, futilely. She looked well, bound. The brief tunic, too, left few of her charms to conjecture. Had she realized her status as a free woman, and the nature of men, she might have striven to hold her body exquisitely still. Slaves on the other hand are often inventive, and even cunning, in the use of movement and bonds, and will often strive by such means to incite the master. What slave does not know that even the slightest sound of her chain, seemingly inadvertent, may stir a master to distraction. How innocent they are! And sometimes it is a narrow margin which separates them from a ravishing and a lashing, from an affectionate, indulgent caress and the impatient, punitive sting of a switch. Cabot then descended the tree and set about creating a trail that would take even sleen some Ahn to negotiate. He would return later for the Kur pet. In the meantime she would wait for the business of men and Kurii to be worked out, appropriately helpless to interfere with or affect the outcome. This treatment of the female, incidentally, even should she be free, is not unusual for Goreans. She will await the issue of events, wait to discover whether she will be freed, to be returned in honor to, say, her city, or learn to whom she will now belong. The female from the Gorean point of view is often viewed as goods, and a prize, to be allotted, or disposed of, as men please.