Conspirators of Gor

by John Norman

  It may be remembered that when Lucius had failed to dispatch Grendel, and had lost the respect and allegiance of the only two Kurii who remained of his followers, he had departed from the audience chamber. It had been supposed and it had, indeed, been the case, that he would try to escape the Cave, in which he would now be viewed as little more than a fallen, treasonous fugitive. Grendel had called to him not to leave the Cave, and Tiresias had warned him that a guard had been set.

  The guard was the larl with which Tiresias, in his exile, had formed a symbiotic relationship. Grendel’s many trips from the Cave, which had been hitherto noted, were mostly concerned to bring food to Tiresias. Tiresias shared this food with the larl in question. In this fashion, the larl received food and it, in its turn, not only refrained from attacking Tiresias, the source of the food, but guarded him against the inroads of other predators. Tiresias had managed to get the larl to cross the entryway of the great portal on the night of my return to the Cave simply enough, by luring it with food from the opposite side. The larl had been stationed near the exit of the Cave by the food signal, which it had come to recognize. This was a portion of the plan of Grendel and Tiresias, to prevent the escape from the Cave of enemies. If none had attempted escape, Grendel would have seen to it that food, in the usual manner, would have been delivered to the larl. A strange Kur, Lucius, whose scent was unfamiliar to the larl, was taken for food, and attacked. Had Lucius realized what was involved he would have taken food with him, to cast to the larl, but he knew nothing of this. From the larl’s point of view, which had been given the food signal, it seemed that that which emerged from the Cave must either bring food or be food. Apparently Lucius had been attacked within a hundred paces of the Cave. The last seen of Lucius had been a limp body being dragged away, over the rocky slope toward the maze of passageways which led back into the mountains. Some days later, no longer fed, the larl had drifted away. One supposes it may have been the same larl which, in the chaos of the revolt, when the great portal was temporarily unguarded, had wandered into the Cave. That, of course, is not known.

  It may be recalled, as well, that Agamemnon had desired Grendel, a former hero of the very revolution on the steel world which had dethroned Agamemnon, to return to the steel world and use his station and prestige to influence its support of his schemes on Gor. As I understand it, this was not as impractical as it might seem as, first, Grendel’s word would be taken seriously, and might be persuasive; second, the current establishment on the steel world would be in no way threatened; and, third, and perhaps most importantly, those of the steel worlds had long coveted a natural world, after, it seems, they had destroyed their own long ago. Presumably any plausible opportunity to obtain a natural world might be welcomed, and seized. For Grendel to undertake this dark embassy it was necessary, naturally, that a means of transportation be provided. In his explorations outside the Cave, Grendel had located the ship in its concealed housing within the Crag of Kleinias. This ship was unmanned, but prepared in such a way that, activated, it would reach the intended steel world. Consider a crossbow set in place, with its quarrel in the guide, a crossbow trained on a distant target. It might remain quiescent, indefinitely, until the trigger was pulled, and then the quarrel would move to the target. So, too, the ship, a ship without sails, a ship which might scorn both water and air, a ship which might by itself seek its far port. It was on this ship that not Grendel but Tiresias would seek the steel world. The point of this was to make available to him the biological science of the steel-world that, by its knowledge of, and manipulation of, the hereditary coils, tissue might be regenerated. I am told that burned, ruined flesh might be restored, that limbs might be regrown, that eyes, from one’s own hereditary coils, might be formed anew. Thus, if all went well, Tiresias might again see, as well or better than before. Apparently, long ago, in the time of the revolution on the steel world, the Lady Bina herself had undergone terrifying injuries, having been the object of some sort of attack. She had been muchly lacerated, torn, broken, and disfigured. But, it seems, by means of her own hereditary coils, her health, vitality, and beauty had been restored, if not enhanced. In any event, one snowy morning, several of us watched the departure of the small, remarkable ship, emerging from its housing, rising through the falling snow, then fading from sight, a ship with no crew, and with but one passenger, Tiresias, whom we all wished well.

  Timarchos and Lysymachos, with supplies, bearing the container housing Agamemnon, had soon left the Cave. This was thought judicious as the always fragile trust and relationships on which a civilization implicitly relies had been muchly disrupted. Lucius had not managed to secure the governance of the Cave and Agamemnon was deemed to have lost it, for, given the decimation of his chief supporters, he no longer had the power to impose discipline and order. Further, his downfall was not received unwillingly by either men or Kurii, given the rampant dissatisfaction which had preceded it in the Cave. Grendel, and his party, might have provided a rallying point for those who recognized the dangers of lawlessness and anarchy, but his concern was elsewhere, and he would leave the Cave, accompanied by the Lady Bina, Desmond of Harfax, Desmond’s cohorts, and several of the men from the Cave, willing to essay a return to civilization, even in the season. He would take some animals with him, the sort spoken of as kajirae. Most of the men and, one supposes, most, or all, of the surviving Kurii remained in the Cave. Certainly no Kurii accompanied us. One supposed some of the men at least, and perhaps all, would attempt to return to civilization in the spring, when the passes would be open. It seemed unlikely that the Cave, in any case, even if inhabited by several Kurii, would remain the center of future conspiracies. The fate of Timarchos, Lysymachos, and Agamemnon is not known. It is possible they managed to make their way to some sort of safety. There are, apparently, various enclaves of Kurii, usually small groups in remote areas, where interaction would be unlikely between them and native Goreans. Perhaps they managed to reach one of these enclaves. Perhaps not. They may have perished in the Voltai, from starvation, from animals, or hostile men or Kurii. But perhaps, too, they managed, somehow, to return to a steel world, not their original world, on which they would be unwelcome, but another. There is much here which is not known.

  As mentioned earlier the containers, one of which housed Agamemnon, had been damaged in the audience chamber. The major effect which this damage seems to have had on Agamemnon was the damage to that portion of the device by means of which the ensconced brain was enabled to generate a visual consciousness. In this way, Agamemnon’s awareness of who, or what, was in his vicinity had been impaired. Because of the trust accorded by both Timarchos and Lysymachos to Grendel, and because of him, to Tiresias, Agamemnon was occasionally left in the keeping of either Grendel or Tiresias, or both. Timarchos and Lysymachos were well aware that Agamemnon was not without enemies in the Cave.

  One day, as I often was, I was in attendance on Tiresias, that I might fetch for him, or help him about, as he might wish. On that day, Tiresias was with Agamemnon.

  “Bring me eyes,” had said Agamemnon.

  “I have no eyes to bring,” had said Tiresias.

  “Who is there?” had asked Agamemnon.

  Tiresias had made his presence known.

  “It was I who had you put out, into the mountains,” said Agamemnon.

  “Yes,” said Tiresias.

  “It is the Kur way,” said Agamemnon.

  “That is my understanding,” said Tiresias.

  “Are you going to kill me?” asked Agamemnon.

  “No,” said Tiresias.

  “It is the Kur way,” said Agamemnon.

  “I am Kur,” had said Tiresias. “And it is not my way.”

  The next day, their preparations complete, Timarchos, Lysymachos, and Agamemnon had left the Cave.

  When Grendel had been saved from his projected executioners I had urged him to flee, but he had refused to do so. Rather, he and Tiresias would hide, and where, it seemed, they would not be sought.
He would remain. He had, it seemed, “work to do.” Where he would not be sought turned out to be the Cave itself. In his explorations outside the Cave, as noted, he had located and investigated the waiting ship, inert, waiting for its activation. He had forced his way into its housing, and, from within the housing, had obtained access to the interior of the Cave. Thus, while search party after search party left the Cave and scoured the icy, cruel terrain of the Voltai, he and Tiresias enjoyed the comforts of shelter. Snow provided drink, and an occasional mountain verr was secured for food. Grendel was well aware that Lucius and some cohorts remained at large and this suggested either, or both, of two possibilities, one, their retreat to remote portions of the Cave or, two, their access to concealed passages. Presumably the possibility likely to be of greatest interest to the fugitives would be that of concealed passages, by means of which important areas of the Cave, central halls, major chambers, and such, might be conveniently at hand. With this in mind, and the conviction that a private access, which might be utilized under certain conditions, as well as a public access, generally available, to the housing of the ship would be likely, Grendel addressed himself, over several Ahn, to the walls and flooring of the ship’s housing. As a result of this investigation, he had eventually discovered a trap, which led by a flight of stairs, to a private passageway which, in turn, connected with a network of such passages. As a result, Grendel soon had at his disposal the same roads, and tunnels, so to speak, which were serving Lucius and his cohorts. Moreover, he had the advantage that Lucius and his cohorts were not aware of this intrusion into what they took to be their private domain. Accordingly, from time to time, he was able to follow their movements, and, occasionally, overhear their conversation.

  Unfortunately it took eleven days after the incident in the audience chamber before our party could depart the Cave. The time lost was regretted, but the rigors and dangers of the Voltai are not to be taken lightly, even in the summer. In the winter her passes are treacherous, and sometimes closed. We laid in abundant supplies of various sorts, food, clothing, blankets, shelter gear, tools, ropes and other climbing tackle, and weapons. Sledges must also be built. These preparations, too, might have proceeded more apace had conditions in the Cave been more settled. Gangs had been formed both for predation and for self protection. Small wars might take place in the halls, as borders were crossed and claimed territories encroached upon. Riches were acquired, hoarded, and then defended. Many men expected to leave the Cave in the spring, rich. Kurii, too, who kept much to themselves, might also kill for food, men or one another. Our own gang must be formed to defend our supplies and other goods. Grendel accepted some to share our trials and rejected others. His criteria were less strength and prowess than reliability and honor. One would not wish to find a knife at one’s throat when the Aqueduct Road was nigh. Most of the kajirae would remain in the Cave, presumably to be fought over as work and pleasure objects by the gangs. There were twenty-two men in our group, and one free woman, the Lady Bina. Our leader was Grendel. Our familiar fellows were with us, Astrinax, Lykos, Desmond of Harfax, Trachinos, and Akesinos. Kleomenes, who had been the leader of the tarsk hunters, was with us, but not his hunters, who had chosen to remain in the Cave until spring. Kleomenes brought a slave with him. Her name was Nora. At night he kept her chained by the neck to his right foot. Shortening the chain she was slept at his feet, lengthening the chain he could draw her to him, for his pleasure. I did not think she needed be chained. I do not think she would have left him for anything. She was his slave. He was her master. Lady Bina took her three slaves with her, Allison, Jane, and Eve. Trachinos had with him a slave, as well, Mina, who had once been the Lady Persinna of Ar. She was now his love beast. One last slave was with us, Chloe, who had been brought along by one of those fellows who had petitioned to accompany us, and had been accepted. He claimed he wanted her to keep him warm at night, and that he would sell her in Venna. I was not sure that we would reach Venna. Mina and Chloe could read. We other kajirae could not. Pausanias and his wagons were months ahead of us.

  As witnessed by this narrative, we survived the Voltai. I think this would not have been possible without the determination and courage, the strength and power, the leadership, of Lord Grendel. I have wondered if, sometimes, there might not be something in that mighty body of the will and power, the energy and resourcefulness, the astonishing capacity, of he alleged, long ago, to have been as Kur amongst Kurii, dreaded and dangerous Agamemnon, known as Theocrat of the World, the Eleventh Face of the Nameless One.

  It might also be noted in passing, that considerable wealth had been amassed by Kurii and their agents in the Cave, by means of which mercenaries were to be paid and subversion purchased in various cities. Much of this had been transported from the Voltai by Pausanias, to abet the work of the conspiracy, but much had remained, as well. Indeed we have mentioned how those of the gangs which had formed in the Cave after the onset of anarchy had made it a point to acquire and defend portions of this wealth, each gang as much as possible. In any event, Grendel had made it a point to appropriate for himself and his followers what gold and silver might be brought to hand without jeopardizing the return to civilization. As a result of this the gold and silver amassed was divided amongst himself, the Lady Bina and the free men. This was divided and placed in sealed packages, each properly inscribed with the name of the free person to whom it was to belong. The Lady Bina, as she was a free woman, was given five portions. It is not unusual that the Gorean free woman, in virtue of her freedom, is prominently advantaged. If anything, Grendel had given her less than many men would think her due. The free woman on Gor has a status and power which would astonish most of the putatively free women of my former world, but then the Gorean commonly thinks of the women of my former world not as free women, at least as he understands that, but rather as slave stock. In any event, the Gorean free woman, even of the lower castes, is accorded considerable respect. Her entitlements and privileges are seldom challenged. Most men will yield place to her. To be sure, should she be stripped, and collared, and flung to the feet of a man this all changes. Grendel placed this wealth, in its several sealed sacks, in the sledge in the keeping of Trachinos and Akesinos. At the end of the journey, each sack was present and sealed, as before. Grendel had chosen well.

  “Allison,” said the Lady Bina, “I have an errand for you to run.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” I said.

  “Tidy yourself,” she said. “Remember that you are a reflection on me.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” I said.

  The fate of Agamemnon’s conspiracy was not clear. Given his downfall in the Voltai it would, at least for a time, lack central direction. On the other hand, in its way, it was still afoot. Pausanias had left the Cave long before our departure. One supposes then that he by now, ignorant of developments in the Voltai, and following his instructions, would, by means of various well-placed agents, be carrying Agamemnon’s plans forward. He would doubtless be unaware of the downfall of Agamemnon until at least the spring. To be sure, it was clear that Agamemnon’s plan might be implemented in the absence of its prime architect. Agamemnon’s conspiracy then, even without Agamemnon, might still be afoot. Another possibility would be that the active, seething brain that was now Agamemnon might reassert itself, might acquire new housings, even new bodies. One did not know how much of Kur science might be available on this world. Too, might not another steel world bring Agamemnon to one of its own laboratories and there restore and rearm him, that he might further pursue, perhaps now to their own advantage, planetary imperialisms?

  Desmond of Harfax had wanted to kill Agamemnon. Grendel had been unwilling to do so.

  In any event, it was now clear to many, if not enough, that Kurii were active on Gor, and had designs on the world. If nothing else, perhaps one might now look more carefully at the civil conflicts that so often erupt in Gorean cities.

  “Are you ready, Allison?” inquired the Lady Bina.

  “Yes, Mistress,�
�� I said.

  We had arrived in Ar some weeks ago. The Lady Bina had given Jane to Astrinax, and Eve to Lykos. They were not even sold. They were given outright. I rejoiced for them. I, however, to my dismay, had been retained. “Am I not, too, to be given to someone?” I had asked, looking up, excited, hopeful, trembling, to see what would be done with me, appropriately kneeling. Then she looked at me. I did not understand her expression. Then she said, “A lady needs a slave. You may now kiss my sandals, and thank me for deigning to keep you, despite your many faults.” As I kissed her sandals, tears ran from my eyes. I could hardly speak. “Thank you, Mistress,” I whispered, “for deigning to keep me.” “Despite your many faults,” she reminded me. “Despite my many faults,” I said, and collapsed, weeping.