Conspirators of Gor

by John Norman

  The night of the freeing of Grendel I had crept back to the vicinity of the great portal, and, in the darkness, waited on what, if one were facing inward to the portal, would be the right-hand side, my back close to the wall.

  About the First Ahn I might have fled within the portal, even into the arms of guards, had it not been for the words of Grendel that the matter, my reentry into the Cave, would be arranged by Tiresias. And so I waited for the moment in which such an entry might be “opportune.” I think that is why I did not bolt inward when, some twenty yards from me, in the darkness, I sensed the movement of a large, sinuous body. Anything that large, moving in such a way, in this vicinity, could only be a larl. I recalled that such a beast had been in the neighborhood of that long, dangerous, winding passageway traversed by Tiresias when he, carrying me, was hurrying to its end, where it opened onto the broad, rocky slope. The beast had raised its head, and peered at us, over a shelf of rock. Tiresias had been aware of its presence, but had scarcely reacted. The larl had not followed us. I had conjectured that it was not hungry. Later, on the night of my reentry into the Cave, I became aware that some relationship existed between the two, although, at the time, I did not understand its nature. In any event, while I backed against the wall, fearing to move, the beast passed me, moving to my right, where it would, in effect, some yards out, cross the slope before the portal. It was scarcely across from the portal when an alarm rang out, and two Kurii, lifting lanterns, ran to the threshold of the portal. Almost at the same time another pair of Kurii, for the guard is doubled after dark, joined them, these carrying spears. In the light of the lanterns the eyes of the larl, catching the light, the body turned toward the portal in the darkness, blazed like tarn disks of gold. The two Kurii with lanterns began to swing them about, which cast startling, darting, awkward shadows on the slope. The two with spears brandished their weapons and stepped threateningly toward the larl, but did not, I noted, much leave the vicinity of the threshold. All four were shouting Kur at the larl. I heard others approaching, and, too, even the voices of kajirae. As attention was fastened on the larl I slipped about the corner of the portal, unnoticed, into the Cave, and, in an instant, was being embraced by Jane and Eve, and there were other kajirae about, too. One Kur, come to the portal, looked at me, and I was indistinguishable amongst others. Looking out, I saw that the larl, as though displeased, had padded away, into the darkness.

  “We were afraid,” said Jane.

  “You are trembling,” said Eve. “You are cold.”

  “It is past locking time,” I said, apprehensively.

  “Do not be concerned,” said Jane. “We have enlisted Chloe. See our thighs.”

  “You have been claimed for the night?” I said.

  “So it would seem,” said Eve.

  “My thigh,” said Jane, “claims that I have been reserved this evening for Astrinax.”

  “And mine that I have been spoken for by Lykos,” said Eve.

  “Chloe!” whispered Jane, and Chloe approached.

  “I will mark your thigh, barbarian,” said Chloe. “Whom shall I say has reserved you for the evening?”

  “Desmond of Harfax,” I said.

  * * * *

  Following the revolt of Lucius, as I have mentioned, certain changes were effected in the routine of the Cave. Three of these were most noticeable to humans. First, there was a significant reduction in the displays, usually ceremonial, of the mysterious container which was commonly believed to contain a treasure, most likely of diamonds, but which was understood by some of us to be somehow relevant to the person of Agamemnon himself. Second, there was the disarming of the Cave’s humans, which muchly uneased the men. One wields a weapon or is subject to the weapons of another. Tyrants prefer disarmed subjects. It is a sensible first step in civil conquest. It is easier to rule verr than larls. Kajirae, of course, are not subject to weapons. They are subject to the whip. Third, security had been increased in the Cave, Kurii now guarding the great portal and patrolling the halls. The second and third of these alterations were oppressive enough, but, following the escape of Grendel, matters worsened. The movements of free humans and many Kurii were now as subject to scrutiny and supervision as those of slave girls. In many cases records were kept, permissions required, and reporting times noted. It was difficult to tell whether these impositions and restrictions were rationally justified in terms of intelligence available to Agamemnon and his inner circle or were the fruit of unproductive suspicions carried to the pitch of self-destructive madness. I supposed much had to do with the recollection of the revolt of Lucius, which had apparently been as unexpected by Agamemnon and his adherents as by the humans in the Cave. It was my speculation that Agamemnon, helpless and dependent in his metal housing, without a mobile, utilizable body, did not know whom he might trust, and to what extent. Lucius had been trusted, even taken by many to be first in the Cave. Who else might prove unfaithful? Who else in a secret heart might harbor treachery? His plans, as well, had been, if not seriously damaged, certainly delayed by what he presumably took as the defection of Grendel. Too, it was not known for certain that Grendel had perished in the Voltai. I supposed that a mind as mighty and ambitious as that of Agamemnon, filled with the visions of grandiose ventures, frustrated by its dependence and limitations, encountering reverses, balked in its projects, might incline to irrationality, might slip into madness.

  In any event, it seemed clear that Desmond of Harfax’s small assemblage of determined men was at great risk. Any man who had been in that room for that meeting now stood in extreme peril. Too, how, under the obtaining conditions, could one proceed, how meet and plan? How could one contact others? Might not even something as seemingly innocent as a pack of cards be suspect? How could one recruit? Who, under these conditions, would join such a perilous enterprise? Two men, in earnest conversation, now attracted attention. Three might require an explanation. Unoccupied rooms were locked. What of records, accountings, and reporting times? How, thus, at present, could one gather and store clothing and supplies? How, thus, at present, could one organize an escape? But Pausanias had left several days before. And Gor must be warned. And the snows were imminent; soon looming winter would close the passes, the roads and gates, of the Voltai.

  During the day we kajirae were worked; at night we were caged. No longer might our thighs be marked. Even I was uncomfortable, though my slave fires had not yet begun to rage in the manner of several of my chain sisters. From my own sensations, however, I could begin to suspect what men had done to them. Some began to moan in their cages at night. I knew from the house of Tenalion that it was common to deny sex to a slave girl for four or five days prior to her sale, that she might be presented to buyers in a more needful state. I had heard that some vended kajirae writhed on the block, begging to be purchased. Others needed be restrained by chain leashes, lest they leave the block, rushing to prostrate themselves before one fellow or another to be purchased, their lips pressed to his sandals or boots. Sometimes a proud girl would pretend to disdain, to aloofness, or frigidity, but the auctioneer, after permitting her to maintain for a time her posturing sham, puts his hands on her and she shortly thereafter, even protesting, squirming, and crying out, is revealed to the buyers, and to herself, as what she is, a female. Lying at the auctioneer’s feet, she listens to the bids on her. She now understands she is not the woman she took herself to be. She now understands that she is the sort of woman who belongs at a slave ring.

  The men, too, of course, muchly resented this deprivation. In time I had little doubt that many would prove to be dangerously frustrated. Gorean men tended to be strong, energetic, ambitious, possessive, impatient, and sexually aggressive. Often little more than honor stood between a Gorean free woman and a chain. The needs of such males, of course, often ignored by, and perhaps not even understood by, Gorean free women, at least in their intensity, were muchly assuaged by the presence of kajirae in their midst, available in the markets, the slave houses, the taverns, and s
o on. The man whose sexual needs are well satisfied tends to be content, and he who is content is commonly happy, and he who is happy has no need to disrupt his society, hurt others, or prey on his fellows. I have no doubt that the presence of kajirae in Gorean society has much to do not only with its naturalness, for men desire slaves and slaves long for masters, but also with its general harmony, security, and stability.

  Too, I have little doubt that the kajira, like the colorful buildings and soaring bridges, the spacious parks and wide boulevards, adds to the charm of Gor. See her, lovely, collared, half-clad, and graceful, bearing her burdens, shopping, hurrying home to her master! She is radiant. She is owned. It is little wonder that many cities, as they might boast of the might of their draft tharlarion, the stamina of their saddle tharlarion, the swiftness of their kaiila, the tenacity and prowess of their hunting sleen, boast of the beauty of their slaves. When foreign ambassadors are in a city masters are particularly encouraged to parade their slaves. When embassies are exchanged with enemy municipalities the banquets are almost always served by naked slaves. For example, if those of Ar visit Treve, the banquet will almost certainly be served by stripped women once of Ar, now in the collar of Trevan masters, which courtesy is returned, of course, should those of Treve visit Ar, where the free men of Treve will be served by stripped women once of Treve, now in the collars of their masters, men of Ar. This is not as insulting as it might be thought, as Gorean men are generally agreed that women are women, and slaves are slaves. What does it matter in what city a woman wears her collar? She is a slave.

  As one from a different world, a grayer, more dismal, more crowded, more polluted world, a mass world of homogenized humanity, a world in which excellence is suspect, and must be concealed, a world of cunning and greed, of envy and duplicity, of hatred and fanaticism, a world alien to honor, a world without Home Stones, I have been much impressed by the Gorean pride in person and achievement. Here human magnificence is prized, provided it be well used and honestly earned. Goreans are wary of the Priest-Kings, but, on the whole, leave them to their devices in the Sardar. Let the gods live their lives; let men live theirs.

  I was sure that the Kurii did not realize the possible consequences which might attend denying kajirae to Gorean males, men accustomed, almost from the ceremony of citizenship, when they are allowed to hold and kiss the Home Stone, to having such conveniences inexpensively at hand.

  Late one night four fellows, with a lamp, broke into the slave quarters. They shook the cages, dragged them about, rattled the bars, but, lacking tools, they could not open them. Some of the girls thrust their arms through the bars, to have them covered with kisses, or pressed their face to the bars, and gripped the bars, that the force of the kisses received might not force them back into the cage. I tried to make myself small in the cage, and shrank back, as men reached through the bars. I had marks on my ankle and one wrist, where they had been grasped. I had a bruise on my left cheek when it had been pulled forward against the bars, by the hair. Then Kurii rushed into the area and the men fled. Two were captured, and put under the snake. Neither died.

  “Kajirae,” said Nora, “gather about.”

  We hurried to kneel in her presence, in the slave quarters. She had just returned from the halls.

  “Matters outside grow ugly,” said Nora. “I fear we are safe, if at all, only in our cages. Altercations take place betwixt men and the beasts. No killing is done yet, for the men lack weapons. They insult the beasts. Happily, few of the beasts understand little other than impatience and disgruntlement. Otherwise heads might be torn away. As it is, several arms and legs have been broken, and men have been swept aside, dashed into walls. There is grumbling. I think the beasts do not understand what is wrong. The men hunger, but not for food, for slaves. They are starving men of slaves, and slaves of masters. It is a punitive thing emanating somehow from the high Kurii, those of golden chains. It affects the beasts, as well, restrictions and refusals. This began, I fear, with the high Kur, Lucius, and now, it seems, a prisoner who was to have been executed escaped, and two Kurii were killed outside the Cave. It is suspected collusion took place. Was the escape abetted? Are there traitors in the Cave? It seems all must suffer. Ela, much of this you know, but I now bring you more dreadful news.”

  “Mistress?” said Chloe.

  Nora seemed unable to continue. She looked about herself, as though fearful that the walls might hear, and speak what heard.

  “Please, Mistress,” said Jane.

  “It is said,” said Nora, “that there is a conspiracy of men within the Cave to thwart the projects of the hirsute masters.”

  I suddenly became very frightened.

  “It has been long suspected by the high Kurii,” she said. “Random executions have been contemplated.”

  “May I speak, Mistress?” I said.

  “All of you, while we are alone,” she said, “have such a permission.” I recalled Nora had not been so generous, before she had found herself at the slave ring of Kleomenes. On a chain many a woman has been softened, and improved. It is hard to be an imitation man on a chain.

  “What is different now?” I asked. “Why is it now said that such a conspiracy exists?”

  “There is an informer,” she said.

  A gasp escaped us.

  “It seems pressures were great,” said Nora. “Scrutiny becomes intense. What move could be made? What could be done? The least movement, the least breath of air, might not escape vigilance. How much was already known to the golden chains? Perhaps the net was already flung. Perhaps the cords were inexorably being drawn tight. It must have seemed only a matter of time, and perhaps a very little time, before the plot and its participants would be exposed. Who would be the first to save himself at the expense of others?”

  “Who was the informer?” asked Jane.

  “Desmond, Desmond of Harfax,” said Nora.

  “No!” I cried.

  “It seems so,” said Nora.

  “It cannot be!” I said.

  “It is his name which is spoken,” said Nora.

  I recalled that Desmond of Harfax had once said to me, “It is clear how at least one might survive.”

  “How?” I had asked.

  “By betraying the rest,” he had said.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  A double guard, though it was daylight, had been placed at the mouth of the Cave. It was thus, in effect, sealed.

  It had been announced, yesterday, that all conspirators had twenty Ahn in which to surrender themselves, before their names would be revealed to the high Kurii by Desmond of Harfax, who, in full nobility, had come forward voluntarily to perform his bounden duty to his superiors.

  He had apparently made the stipulation that he would reveal the names of the conspirators only to Agamemnon himself, thus assuring himself that all would be done fully and properly, without any confusion or mistake, and, also, naturally, one supposes, that he, Desmond of Harfax, would then be recognized personally by a grateful Agamemnon as the informant, and would, thus, be certain to receive his proper reward.

  The twenty allotted Ahn, of course, had now passed without incident. Certainly no one had come forward, surrendering himself to the golden chains.

  “Free person!” cried Nora.

  The kajirae in the slave quarters went immediately to first obeisance position. I did not even know who had entered.

  “Allison,” said a woman’s voice, one I well recognized, but had not heard for months.

  “Mistress,” I said, looking up, seeing the Lady Bina. It was clear she was free, but she was not well robed. It was different from Ar, and even from the more casual robing of the trail. The robe, I suspected, was of a single layer. It was brown, soiled, and ragged at the hem. It suggested the garment of a Peasant woman, who might work in the fields. Normally the Lady Bina was fastidious with respect to her garmenture. It came midway on her calves. She had fashioned for herself, from similar material, a hood, and veil. The veil was loose about
her lower face, more a token of veiling than anything else. The Lady Bina, I supposed as much from vanity as impatience with some of the cultural niceties expected of the Gorean free woman, had always been lax in veiling. I again realized how exquisitely beautiful she was. I thought she might be in jeopardy, particularly now, if she were to traverse the halls alone. But she was not alone. A Kur was behind her. I realized with a start, though I should have expected it, that the Lady Bina was a prisoner.

  “You are to come with me, Allison,” she said. “We are to witness the deposition of Desmond of Harfax.”

  “I do not wish to do so,” I said.

  “I am sorry,” she said.

  “Why are we to do so?” I asked.

  “They want witnesses who are not free men,” she said. “One of them might be implicated. We are chosen, I suppose, because he was in the employ of myself and Grendel, and you were in his keeping.”

  The Lady Bina turned to the other kajirae in the room. “You may rise,” she said.

  The beast with her turned toward the door.

  “We are to go outside, Allison,” she said. “Desmond of Harfax is to be led down the hall shortly, to the Audience Chamber of Agamemnon. We are to follow.”

  She preceded the Kur from the room, and I followed her, a bit behind, on the left, as befitted a slave. She was free. I would heel her.

  Outside the door to the slave quarters the Kur stopped, and we, with him, stopped, and waited there. I knelt, and the Lady Bina stood. There were several men in the corridor, mostly along the sides. There were a few Kurii, too.

  I saw the Lady Bina looked upon.

  Surely it would have been better had she been clad in the Robes of Concealment. Many of the men, as far as I know, had never seen her before. I am sure many did not know what to make of her. Should there not be a collar on her neck? If there was, it would be concealed by the casual veiling she had arranged. But she was not camisked. Could she be free? It would seem so, for the comparative amplitude of her garmenture, but, too, it did not seem all that much, and it was fairly obvious that her robe was thin, and of but a single layer. Too, she was beautiful, surely slave beautiful, that beautiful. When men look upon such beauty it is natural for them to think, as well, of chains and the block.