by John Norman
“We must finish our business here,” said Axel, lifting his dagger, catching the early afternoon sun on the blade.
Donna wept in her bonds, at the feet of Genserich.
“Be done with it quickly,” said Genserich.
“Who will be first?” inquired Axel, surveying the prisoners.
“I,” said Genserich. “I am first here.”
“Why not this fellow?” I asked, indicating Rorton.
“No!” he said. “Genserich is first.”
“I thought you wished to be first,” I said.
“Genserich is first,” he said.
“Very well,” said Axel, and he bent to Genserich, and Donna shrieked in misery.
With a few swift strokes, he cut Genserich’s bonds away.
“Master!” cried Donna.
“What are you doing?” said Genserich.
“Cutting your throat,” said Axel, “but I missed. I am apparently little better at this than estimating arrayed forces in the field.”
“I do not understand,” said Genserich, struggling uncertainly to his feet.
“You might have killed us, but did not,” said Axel. “Now we might have killed you, but do not. Some weapons, and goods, are at the river shore. They should be enough to get you somewhere. Free your men, but do not fetch your things yet. We wish to be first away. Surely you understand.”
“Indeed,” said Genserich.
I glanced across the emptied camp at the three slaves. Seeing themselves observed by a free man they knelt, immediately. Tula and Mila seemed beside themselves with relief. Did Tula’s eyes seek out Aeson amongst the prisoners; and was Genak the possible object of Mila’s bright regard? The other slave, in contrast, seemed alarmed. I regarded her with a grim satisfaction, and she trembled in her place. How attractive, and helpless, are women on their knees, where they belong. I was well pleased that there were two sexes in my species, and that they were so different.
“I took the liberty, earlier,” said Axel to Genserich, “of emptying your purse.” He then handed Genserich a small but weighty sack of coin. “Do not fear,” he said. “Our friends from the coast have done well enough here, in both coin and weaponry. Too, they have acquired four slaves, at least two of whom should do well off the block. Accordingly I retained your fee from the Laurius and the original fee gold dispensed to four women who no longer have need of it, and, as slaves, may now own nothing, not even a collar on their necks or a copper tarsk-bit.”
“My thanks,” said Genserich.
“Free us!” demanded Rorton, struggling.
“I was dispatched,” said Axel, “to reclaim a slave, but there are two others in this camp, whom I now declare unclaimed.”
Whereas cities have laws, and most castes have caste codes, there is only one law which is generally respected, and held in common, amongst Gorean municipalities, and that is Merchant Law, largely established and codified at the great Sardar Fairs. According to Merchant law an unclaimed slave, one legally subject to claimancy, may be claimed, and then is the property of the claimant.
Axel went to the kneeling Tula and Mila, seized them by the hair, and pulled them to the prisoners. There he flung Tula down before Aeson, and Mila before Genak.
“I claim her!” cried Aeson.
“Master!” said Tula, kneeling with her head to the dirt before him.
“I claim her!” said Genak.
“You are my master!” cried Mila, kneeling before him, her head to the ground.
Axel then turned to me. “As you know,” said Axel, “time presses and a rendezvous is imminent.”
I recalled the departure of the larl and its two trainers.
“I will gather our gear,” I said.
“To me, Tiomines!” said Axel, sharply, and the large, low, sinuous beast, with a growl and a turn of its long spine, was at his side.
“Free us, free us now!” cried Rorton.
Genserich looked to Axel.
“You may free your men,” said Axel, “but keep them from the shore until we are clear of the camp.”
“I understand,” said Genserich.
He then unbound his lieutenant, Aeson, and Genak, as well, which two then turned to others, who, in their turn, set themselves to free others. I saw Rorton freed. He sprang up, and glanced to the shore. Genserich, to my annoyance, bent to Donna. “Oh, no, please, Master!” she protested. “I am a slave. There are free men to be freed.” But he, nonetheless, bending down, freed the slave, who, dismayed, but laughing, wept with happiness. Then she was at his feet, covering them with kisses. At least she, I thought, understood the protocols in such a situation. Genserich seemed a good commander. Surely he could not be such a fool as to care for a slave. Still, she looked well in her collar. But then what woman does not? Too, of course, his men were being freed, so he need not concern himself further with that matter, and perhaps he did not trust another to unbind his slave. After all, she was beautiful, and she would be unable, as any slave, to resist any handling or caressing to which she might be subjected. Men are often proprietary where a slave is concerned; after all, they own her. To be sure, there was also an implicit lesson in this, a common Gorean lesson, that whether the slave is bound or free, chained or not chained, fed or not fed, beaten or not beaten, is not up to her but to her master, for she is his belonging.
I regarded Axel.
“You will be taking the barbarian back with you,” I said.
“Of course,” he said.
“I will bind and leash her,” I said, “and we will be on our way.”
“Where is Rorton?” he asked.
“I do not know,” I said, looking about.
“Beware!” screamed Axel.
Genserich spun about, startled, twisting to the side, Donna screaming, and the blade of the flung javelin, a flash of steel, tore through the collar of his tunic, leaving a tatter of cloth and a line of blood between his neck and shoulder, and lodged twenty paces beyond, quivering in a small Tur tree at the camp’s edge.
“Kill!” cried Axel to Tiomines, pointing toward Rorton. “No!” Rorton cried, and turned about, slipping, to run. Rorton had run no more than five steps before the weight of Tiomines struck against him and sent him rolling down the slope toward the shore. In an instant the sleen was on him, biting, and feeding.
Slaves screamed.
“Call him off!” I cried to Axel.
The sleen was dragging the body about, and shaking it, which, I gather, opens, tears, and loosens meat. In its eagerness, by the shore, its fur was covered by mud. Twice it was half in the water. Rorton’s head hung by skin to a part of the body.
“Call him back!” I said to Axel.
“No,” said Axel. “It is in its frenzy. It will not hear. It will not respond. Do not approach it, lest you, too, be seized and torn.”
“Is it always like this?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Sometimes there is a simple bite through the back of the neck, and then the feeding. Do not interfere with the feeding. The tamest of sleen are extremely dangerous when feeding.”
“Have you seen this before?” I asked.
“Once,” he said.
“It is ugly,” I said.
“Sometimes it is less so,” he said. “It is never pretty. It is a long time since Tiomines had a kill.”
“How long will he be like this?” I asked.
“Until his hunger is satisfied,” said Axel.
The sounds of the sleen’s growling, and feeding, though at the shore, carried to the camp.
“Winter is coming,” said Axel. “There will be ice in the river. You are aware of the urgency. We must to Shipcamp.”
“We need the sleen,” I said.
“We will have him,” said Axel. “The sleen is voracious. It feeds quickly.”
I could see Tiomines, by the shore, lift his head, and look about. He shook his head, and blood spattered about, even into the water.
“It will not be long now,” said Axel.
In a few Ehn Tiomines was ascending the slope to the camp. There seemed nothing unusual about his mien. He might have been returning from drinking at the river. Men parted, warily, to let him through. He approached Axel as usual, and, affectionately, rubbed his bloodied muzzle and fangs against Axel’s thigh. “Good, lad,” said Axel. The beast then, seemingly content, drew to one side, and lay down.
“We will attend to the body,” said Genserich.
“What is left of it,” said a man.
“Leave it for urts,” said Aeson, “or cast it into the river, for eels, for river sleen.” The river sleen is a small animal, seldom more than two or three feet in length, including the tail. Few weigh more than two or three stone. It is not to be confused with the common sleen, or the aquatic sleen, the sea sleen, which are large animals.
“No,” said Genserich.
“Why not?” asked Aeson.
“He was of the band,” said Genserich.
“Have it as you will,” said a man.
“I will,” said Genserich.
“Genserich is first,” said Aeson.
“Is there challenge?” inquired Genak, looking about.
“No,” said more than one man.
“Who is first?” asked Aeson.
“Genserich,” said the men.
“We will now attend to the body,” said Aeson. “Rorton was of the band.”
“Your hospitality, such as it was,” said Axel to Genserich, “has been acknowledged. You have been repaid with your lives. I trust that is sufficient. We have business, and cannot dally. We must away, immediately. Fetch your weapons, and supplies, and do not attempt to follow us. That would mean your death.”
“I wish you well,” said Genserich.
“I wish you well,” said Axel to Genserich, and the others. “Tiomines,” he called, slapping his thigh, and the brute shook its fur, still wet and muddy from the shore, and padded softly to his side. For its weight the sleen steps lightly. This has to do with the softness and width of the paws, like broad, velvet cushions from which knives might spring, curved knives, for anchoring prey. Axel then turned to me. “We have no time to spend here,” he said. “We are much delayed. The matter is urgent. We may already be too late. We leave now.”
“I shall bind and leash the barbarian,” I said. I looked about. “Where is she?” I said.
“Master!” cried Tula. “She is gone!”
Chapter Forty-Four
I dared not move east along the river, for that would lead me to Shipcamp, and I feared to go west, for the intruders had gone west, toward the coast. And there might, for all I knew, be others, coming and going on those trails. Nearer the coast, too, there might be villages. I was terrified to cross the river, but I would wish to do so, sooner or later, to move south. It was already late autumn, and I was well aware of the lightness and flimsiness of the bit of rent rep-cloth I wore. Already, at night, more than once, cuddled in the leaves, I had longed for my kennel blanket. The leaves of the Tur trees had begun to turn. Once there had been a dusting of snow, the specks bright in the sunlight between the trees. I was very much afraid the weather might suddenly change. I knew there was eagerness at Shipcamp to bring the great ship to Thassa before the possibility of ice in the river. There seemed no immediate danger of that, but others knew more of such things than I. Many, I knew, thought it madness to take the great ship, or any ship, abroad on Thassa this late in the season. I had gathered it was seldom done. In such seasons Thassa grows capricious and turbulent. There is the wind, the cold, the storms, the mighty waves, the torrents of icy rain. Even coast vessels, seldom out of the sight of land, would seek their harboring before the onset of winter. I must move south. I resolved to go far enough inland to elude pursuit, and then, when sure of my escape, somehow cross the river, perhaps stealing a boat, perhaps building a raft, bound with vines, or even clinging to debris. I was wary of the water itself, as I did not know what might lie within it. I did know that the dreaded river tharlarion which infest, and terrorize, the Cartius and Ua rivers did not range this far north. I must be careful not to return inadvertently to the vicinity of Shipcamp as I had before. I still did not understand how that could have come about. I did know that a small unevenness in one’s pace, a tiny difference in the stride of one foot as opposed to the other, common in almost anyone, save perhaps those trained in a measured stride, such as warriors, might result in one’s eventually describing a vast circle, but I did not think I had covered so many pasangs as to make that plausible. Too, what of the time of day, and the sun? And certain stars? Could one not gather one’s directions from such things? How incomprehensible it all was. I remembered my terror, and dismay, when I beheld the wands marking the perimeter of Shipcamp. I had returned! How had it come about? Certainly I would not be so foolish as to repeat that mistake, however it had come about.
I looked up, through the trees. The sun was high.
Tula, Mila and I, and, I think, others, as well, even the men, had been startled when Master Axel had suddenly cried out, and Master Genserich, warned, had moved in such a way, so quickly, so suddenly, spinning about, as to avoid receiving a cast javelin in his back. As it was he was wounded only slightly, I think at the shoulder, near the neck. One of Master Genserich’s own men had attacked him. Almost at the same time, Master Axel, his mien terrible, had cried out and loosed his hideous beast, setting it on the assailant. Tula, Mila, and I, and others, too, I think, had screamed with horror. It is not a pleasant thing to see. Tula had covered her eyes, and, in a moment, or two, sick, Mila and I had turned away. I had thought the sleen a domestic, well-trained beast, at least in the presence of its master or trainer, and it seemed so in the camp, and I had even stood close to it from time to time, without much fear, once even daring to touch it, but what I had beheld then was nothing which spoke of control, domesticity, restraint, or subordination. It spoke, rather, of the darkness of the forest, and the horrors which might lurk within it.
But at the same time, given the consternation about, the commotion in the camp, the attack on Master Genserich, and his narrow escape, the attack of the sleen on the assailant, and the tearing and feeding of the sleen, the attention of all, or the thought of all, on such things, I realized that the dark hand of chance had opened the door to my departure. No one would miss me, not for a time. This was my opportunity, terrible as it was, come unexpectedly. The attention of everyone was elsewhere. Even those at my side were distracted. Tula had her head down, her eyes covered; and Mila was sunk to her knees, shuddering, turned to the side.
I swiftly slipped away.
I looked back, once.
I shuddered.
Nature had designed the sleen. I did not think that even the Priest-Kings of Gor would have dared to do so.
I continued on, moving inland.
Interestingly, as I hurried away, I did not much fear being hunted again by the sleen. This had little or nothing to do with its recent kill, the interval which might be required for it to return to normality, its satiation and possible somnolence after feeding, or such, not even with the paucity of scent which might linger in the camp. Indeed, how could it be given my scent, rather than that of Tula, Mila, or others? Perhaps from a section of rope which had encircled my neck in the night, from footprints mingled with others, perhaps from trying various scents and rejecting all but one? Might it not even follow one of the slaves disappeared earlier with the intruders, on the trek to the coast? No, my confidence in this matter, though it was not an unqualified confidence, had more to do with Shipcamp.
At the time I had fled Shipcamp, I knew the great ship was being readied for its journey downriver. Indeed, I had been grateful to have been afforded the opportunity to gather Tur-Pah so close to the wands when I had, this facilitating my flight, for one of the reasons I wished to escape, and soon, was to avoid incarceration, with others, within those mighty timbers when her mooring lines were freed. What escape then for a hapless kajira helpless in such a floating, and perhaps doomed, prison?
My speculation then that I would not be pursued again by the sleen was primarily based on the likelihood of the great ship’s imminent departure. The possibility of this event had seemed to loom over events here by the river. I recalled that the larl and its trainers had been anxious to leave, and had sped away at the first opportunity. Too, I was sure that Master Axel would wish to return quickly with the sleen to Shipcamp, and, happily, doubtless, too, the monstrous brute with him whom I hated with such vehemence. How dismayed I had been when the intruders had invaded the camp, allies, it seemed, of Master Axel and the brute with him, and they had been freed! I had earlier been much delighted to take my vengeance on the brute who had so ignored and scorned me, when he was bound and helpless. I had delighted myself with his tormenting. I had taunted him with a slave’s body he could not possess. With what diligence and pleasure I had employed the soft arsenals at the disposal of a slave, her closeness, her breath, her smiles, her expressions, her lips, her postures, her attitudes, her words, and touch, to my advantage. I had made him suffer in my pretense of solicitude. Poor Master, indeed! Let him squirm, and sweat, and strain at his ropes! How helpless he was, and how gratified I was, to afflict him with impunity. Let him pretend I was nothing! I had made him suffer. Let him pretend, too, I was of no interest to him! I had given the lie to that, and before others, to their amusement. I was not his. He could not own me, he could not buy me! How cleverly I had subjected him to the honey of my vengeance. I had then taken my leave of him, leaving him behind me, humiliated, furious, helpless in his bonds. We were soon to trek, and I was to bear my burden. He had arranged, bound, the monster, to have himself placed behind me, and I knew then, to my great uneasiness, I would be under his constant surveillance. So I must walk before him, bearing my burden, keenly aware he was there, unable to see him, and walk as I must, as what I was, a slave. But the trek was arrested by mutiny within the band, and in the course of this mutiny, intruders from the coast had located the camp. Shortly thereafter he and Master Axel, who were apparently in some way in league with the intruders, had been freed, and I had trembled in terror. Soon I had seen his eyes, those of he whom I hated, upon me, and as those of a displeased master on a slave. Had I ever been so aware of my half-nudity and the light metal circle fastened about my neck? I knew then that I must escape as soon as possible, at any risk. With a blow he could break my neck. His strength might pull the limbs from my body. My opportunity soon occurred, unexpectedly, with the attack on Genserich and the loosing of the sleen on the ill-fated assailant.