Magicians of Gor

by Norman, John;

  There had been, after the first knocking, alerting the occupant of the room, taps in groups of four. The fourth letter in the Gorean alphabet is the delka.

  "Why have you come back?" I asked.

  "I never went," he said.

  "Where is Phoebe?" I asked.

  "Back-braceleted, hooded, and chained by the neck to the back of one of the wagons of your friend, Tarsk-Bit," he said. "I so secured her with my own hands."

  "She thinks you are with them, too, then?" I said.

  "She will discover differently in the morning," he said.

  "She will wish to come after you," I said.

  "She is a female," he said. "Chains will keep her where I wish."

  "She will be distraught," I said.

  "The lash can silence her," he said.

  "You are crying," I said. The lamp was now lit.

  "It is the smoke from the lamp," he said.

  "Of course," I said.

  "She will be kept under exact discipline and in perfect custody," he said. "I have given orders to that effect. Moreover, if she is troublesome in any way, she is to be sold en route for a pittance, the only condition being that her new master is neither of Ar, nor has dealings with that city. Her only hope then to see me again, if she should wish to do so, is to accompany Boots Tarsk-Bit and his party in perfect docility to Port Cos."

  "I am sorry for her," I said.

  "Do not be," he said. "She is only a slave."

  "What will you do for a slave?" I asked.

  He was a Gorean male.

  "Doubtless there are other sluts in Ar," he said.

  "Doubtless," I said.

  "Is there anything to eat?" he asked.

  "Some bread," I said, indicating a wrapper to one side.

  He attacked the bread.

  "It seems the lamp is still smoking," I said.

  "I had not noticed," he said.

  "You came to Ar to recover the Home Stone of Ar's Station," I said. "You have done so. Your work here is finished. You should go back to Port Cos."

  "I do not think my presence with the troupe of Tarsk-Bit would make much difference," he said.

  "Nonetheless," I said, "your work here is finished."

  "You have acquired the female for whom you came to Ar," he said. "She is now your slave. Indeed, you could go fetch her now, from where she lies, chained and helpless. You could get her out of the city. You could carry her off. But you did not choose to do so. Rather you are letting her go."

  "I look upon it differently," I said. "I look more upon it as giving her, for a time, the run of her tether."

  "You finished your work in Ar," he said. "Why have you not left, taking your slave with you, if you wished?"

  "She is not important," I said. "She is a mere slave girl."

  "But you came to Ar for her," he said. "And you let her maneuver herself perfectly, and helplessly, into your hands. It was a coup. She is yours."

  "I think that I shall stay in Ar, for a time," I said.

  "Why?" he asked. "You are not of Ar."

  "Why have you come back?" I asked. "Are you so fond of Ar?"

  "I hate Ar," he said.

  "Why, then, have you returned?" I asked.

  "Because you are still here," he said.

  "I, too, am hungry," I said.

  He tore off a piece of bread. "Here," he said.

  "I am grateful, Marcus, my friend," I said.

  "It is nothing," he said.

  We then, in the light of the small lamp, ate together.

  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1988 by John Norman

  Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media

  ISBN 978-1-4976-0045-4

  This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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