servitude.â€
I took the coins from her, and out them in my pouch. “Stand,†I said. “Put your
head back. Open your mouth, widely.â€
I determined in a moment or two that she was not concealing any small coins or
tiny jewels in her nostrils, her ears, her hair or mouth. I then conducted her
by the arm to the side of the threshold of the tarn gate and stood her there,
her feet well back, her arms extended, the palms of her hands leaning against
the wood. There was nothing concealed beneath her arms, as was easy to
determine, she in this position. I lifted her feet one at a time, checking the
insteps and between the toes for any taped materials. I then examined the rest
of her body. “Oh!†she said. “Oh!†I then pulled the cloth up again, snugly, as
it had been. I then pulled her back from the side of the gate, standing her
again on her feet.
She looked up at me, reproachfully.
“it would appear that you are coinless,†I said.
“I am,†she said.
“Put out your hands,†I said.
She did so, and cried out, suddenly, startled, as slave bracelets danced upon
her wrists.
She lifted her wrists before her, as if not understanding how they could be so
suddenly clasped in steel.
“You are now my captive,†I told her, “and I am going to keep you, for a time,
though for perhaps no more than a few Ehn, as merely my servant, though a full
servant. At the end of that time, however long I choose for it to be, I will do
with you as I wish, perhaps making you a slave, perhaps giving you to another,
perhaps selling you into slavery, whatever I please.â€
She looked at me, frightened.
“Do you understand?†I asked.
“Yes,†she said.
I then thrust her, not gently, toward the tarn, until she stood near the foot of
the mounting ladder, it dangling from the saddle.
There, in the proximity of the winged giant, she trembled.
“Hold still,†I said. I then, with a piece of scarflike cloth taken from my
pouch, a wind veil, sometimes bound across (pg.133) the mouth and nostrils of a
tarnsman, usually at high altitudes, blindfolded her. A great many women,
particularly the most sensitive and intelligent among them, fear tarns greatly.
It is not unusual for them to become hysterical in their vicinity. It is not
uncommon then for the tarnsman to hood or blindfold them. This aids in their
control and management. Too, of course, if the woman is a captive, or slave, one
may not wish her to understand where she is, or be able to retrace her route, or
know where she is being taken. It is enough for her to know, when the blindfold
or hood is removed, that she is in perfect custody. Sometimes a woman does not
learn for weeks, sometimes until, say, the very night of her sale, where she is,
in what city she finds herself.
“I can’t see!†she said.
“That is the purpose of a blindfold,†I said.
“You could punish me, couldn’t you?†she said.
“Yes,†I said.
“And you would, wouldn’t you?†she said.
“Yes,†I said.
I then put her on my shoulder, her head to the rear, as a slave is carried, and
mounted the ladder. I put her before me on the saddle. She grasped the pommel
desperately. At the sides of the saddle there are various rings, and straps,
which may be used in fastening things to it, or across it. Needless to say, such
may be used to fasten females in place. Lady Phoebe of Telnus was, of course, a
free woman, and though she was a capture, in a sense, she had a special status
with me. I did not, thus, throw her across the saddle, on her belly, or back,
fastening her there in utter helplessness as I might have a common capture. I
did, however, loop a left strap about her right wrist, and tie it back to its
ring, and loop a right strap on her right wrist, tying it back to its ring. In
this way, as she wore slave bracelets, although she might slip, she could not
fall, and her hands would be kept in the vicinity of the pommel. I then put the
safety strap about myself, and buckled it shut.
Once before, long ago, in the vicinity of the city of Ar, I had been lax in
doing that. It had been fortunate that I had survived. It was a precaution
which, if time permitted, I had seldom neglected thereafter. I thought of lithe,
sinuous, olive-skinned Talena, the daughter of Marlenus of Ar until disowned,
(pg134) she having given evidence that she was a slave. After she had been
returned to Ar by Samos, of Port Kar, into whose chains she had fallen,
Marlenus, shamed, had had her sequestered, in the Central Cylinder. Now, in his
absence, he having vanished in the Voltai Mountains, on a punitive raid against
the tarnsmen of Treve, it seemed her fortunes were recovering. She had appeared
at public functions. Her palanquin was now again seen abroad in the streets.
Doubtless she was once again becoming proud and haughty. I had not seen the
slave in her. On the other hand, Rask of Treve, and others, had. I, too, now, I
suspected, might be more perceptive. Though she had been the daughter of a Ubar,
and now, again, it seemed, stood high in Ar, she was, after all, only a female.
I wondered what she might look like, naked and in chains, or writhing at my
feet, trying to interest me.
“Oh!†said Lady Phoebe, softly.
“You are slim,†I said, “but you are well curved.â€
“Thank you,†she said.
“It is pleasant to caress you,†I said.
She was silent.
“Do you object?†I asked.
“No,†she said.
“Why not?†I asked.
“I am a full servant,†she said.
Her body was unusually sensitive for that of a free woman. It was not slave, of
course, but then she was not a slave. Such transformation in her, of course,
might easily come with the collar, and discipline.
I again, briefly, considered the proud, haughty Talena, who had been the
daughter of a Ubar, and who now, again, it seemed, stood high in Ar. Yes, she
would, I thought, considering the matter carefully, look well in chains, or
writhing at my feet, trying to interest me. Too, I recalled she had been
contemptuous of me, and haughty and cruel to me, in Port Kar, scorning even the
memory of my love, when I had been paralyzed, helpless to move from a chair, the
victim of the poison of Sullius Maximus, once one of the five Ubars of Port Kar,
before the Sovereignty of the Council of Captains. I wondered if she thought
that I was still in Port Kar, perhaps huddled before a fire in that same chair,
an invalid, its (pg.135) prisoner. But I had recovered, fully, receiving even
the antidote for the poison of Torvaldsland. I suspected, however, she might
have seen me from her palanquin in Ar. The following night an attempt had been
made on my life in the Tunnels, one of the slave brothels of Ludmilla, from
which the street called the Alley of the Slave Brothels of Ludmilla is named.
> Too, I had seen evidence near Brundisium that she was guilty of treason against
Ar.
“Oh!†said Lady Phoebe.
“Ah, yes, Talena, I thought. Yes, I thought, now, upon reflection, that there
had been a slave in her. Perhaps I had been a fool to let it get away. Yes, she
might make an interesting slave, perhaps a low slave. Then I dismissed thoughts
of her from my mind.
“Ohh!†gasped Lady Phoebe, crying out in the blindfold, squirming on the saddle
before me. I heard the tiny sounds of the linkage of the slave bracelets. Her
white thighs contrasted nicely with the smooth, dark, glossy leather. Sometimes
they were flattened against the leather, as though gripping it for dear life,
and, at other times, they rubbed, and squirmed, and moved helplessly, piteously,
against it. I considered the glossiness of the saddle leather. I did not think
she was the first woman who had been carried on it, or so handled. Her knees
suddenly bent and she almost climbed up, about the pommel. I wondered if I
should have fastened her ankles to rings, holding her thighs down and apart, on
the saddle, forcing her to endure the sensations, for the most part
relieflessly, within physical-restraint limits of my choosing.
“Oh, ohh,†she Lady Phoebe.
“Be silent,†I said to her.
“You have stopped!†she whispered.
“Be silent,†I said. Had she been a slave, and not a free woman, this causing of
the repetition of a command might have earned her a beating.
The attendant looked about. There was the sound of some commotion coming from
the vicinity of the court.
“Here, my good fellow,†I said to him.
“My thank, tarnsman!†he cried, not having expected a gratuity of such size.
I was reasonably confident as to what the commotion might (pg.136) well be
about, and so I thought I might as well take my leave of the Crooked Tarn.
“You are generous, indeed, tarnsman,†said the attendant, backing away now. It
would scarcely do to be struck or swept from the platform to the moat some
seventy or eighty feet below, particularly as one had just made an entire silver
tarsk. Giving such a coin, of course, was, in its way, I suppose, a bit of
braggadocio on my part, something of a gesture or flourish. On the other hand, I
would not really miss it that much as I had extracted it from among the coins I
had taken from the wallet of the fellow I had left in the tub, in the baths, the
burly fellow who was of the company of Artemidorus.
I drew up the mounting ladder and secured it at the side of the saddle.
The shouting, angry shouts, a tumult almost, was clearer now. Four or five
fellows must have been involved. There were, too, if I am not mistaken, the
sounds of blows, or, at least, sudden grunts and cries of pain.
I moved the harness, drawing the straps evenly, and the bird, anticipatory,
alerted, stalked to the front edge of the landing platform, outside the portal
of the tarn gate. From such a platform the bird, with a single snap of its
wings, addressing itself to flight, is immediately airborne.
“Hold tightly,†I told my servant.
She moaned. She clutched the pommel with all her strength.
“There is a fellow back there,†said the attendant. “He is naked! He is
fighting!â€
“Oh?†I said.
“Yes!†he said.
“Interesting,†I said.
“He has probably not paid his bills, and is trying to escape,†speculated the
attendant. To be sure, he did not seem eager to rush down and join the fray.
“Disgusting,†I said.
I myself had paid my bills properly before leaving the Crooked Tarn. It is the
thing to do. Inns, after all, if no one paid their bills, would have a difficult
time making a go of it. It is not really practical to hold every fellow for
ransom, or, every lady for redemption. This is not to deny that some outlying
Gorean inns, particularly where female travelers are (pg.137) concerned,
function as little more than slave traps, an arrangement usually being in effect
with a local slaver.
“He seems to be trying to come in this direction,†said the attendant.
“Interesting,†I said.
If the fellow was really trying to escape without paying his bills, and this was
a peculiar direction for him to be coming if that was the case, then I could
hardly blame him. The prices at the Crooked Tarn were indeed outrageous. My own
bill, for example, all told, had come to nineteen copper tarsks, and a tarsk
bit, the latter for the use of the Lady Temione last night. The itemization of
that bill, frightful to contemplate, had been ten for lodging, two for the bath
and supplies, two for blankets, five for bread, paga and porridge, and the tarsk
bit for the use of the Lady Temione, the only particular on the bill which might
have been argued as within reason. I had done without breakfast this morning
primarily to save time, but it could also have been done, and I think
legitimately, in protest over the prices of the Crooked Tarn. Fortunately I had
some dried tarsk strips in my pack. I did not know if the Lady Phoebe would find
these appealing or not but she would learn to eat them. Too, she would learn to
take them in her mouth from my hand. This would help her to learn that she was
now dependent on men for her food.
“How is our friend doing now?†I asked.
“He is down! They have him. No! He is up!†reported the attendant. “Hah! Now
they have a chain on him!â€
“I wish you well,†I said to the attendant. I had thought I might wait on the
platform in case the fellow managed to reach it, and then take flight, but it
did not seem now that he would get this far, at least this morning.
“I wish you well!†called that attendant, clinging then to a stanchion of the
tarn gate.
I drew back, decisively, on the one-strap, and the tarn screamed and smote the
air with its wings, and, my servant crying out in terror and clutching the
pommel, was aflight!
Those who are horsemen know the exhilaration of riding, the marvelous animal,
its strength, its pacings, its speed, its responsiveness, how one seems
augmented by its power, how one can feel it, and its breathing, the movements of
its body, sensing even the blows of its hoofs in the turf. It is little (pg.138)
wonder that peoples knowing not the horse fled in terror when they first
encountered riders, taking the rider and his mount for one thing, something half
animal, half human, an awesome, unbelievably swift, gigantic, armed chimera,
something that could not be outrun, that seemed to fly upon the earth, that
seemed tireless, something irresistible, merciless and relentless to which it
seemed the world must rightfully belong.
To such initial glimpses, fraught with fear, might harken the stories of the
centaur, half man, half horse. And the legendary nature of the centaur, its
appetites, its rapacity and power, harken back, too, perhaps, in the canny ways
in which half-for
gotten historical fact colors the fancies of tamer times, to
the first perceptions of the horseman, and his ways, among those afoot. And even
later, when the separation of man and mount became clearly understood, the fear
of the horseman, and his ways, would abide. Fortunate that they lingered largely
on the fringes of civilization. And yet, how often, as with the Hyksos, in
Egypt, did they ride in from the desert like a storm, their horses among the
barley. The mystique of the rider lingered unquestioned for centuries. Alexander
would turn cavalry into a decisive arm. Centuries later the stirrup and
barbarian lancers would crush the world’s most successful civilization. The very
word for “Knight†in German is “Ritterâ€, which, literally, means “Rider.â€
The ascendancy of the cavalry would remain unchallenged until the achievement of
revolutions in infantry tactics and missile power, such things as the coming of
the massed pikes, and the flighted clothyard shafts of a dozen fields. Something
of the same joy of the rider, and mystique of the rider, exists on Gor in
connection with the tarn as existed on Earth in connection with the horse. For
example, if you have thrilled to the movements and power of a fine steed, you
have some conception of what it is to be aflight on tarnback. There is the wind,
the sense of the beast, the speed, the movements, now in all dimensions, the
climb, the dive, soaring, turning, all in the freedom of the sky! There is here,
too, a oneness of man and beast. There is even the legend of the tarntauros, or
creature half man, and half tarn, which in Gorean myth, plays a similar, one
might even say, equivalent, role to that of the centaur in the myths of Earth.
Too, the tarnsman retains (pg.139) something of the glamour which on Earth
attached to the horseman, particularly so as the technology laws of the
Priest-Kings, remote, mysterious masters of Gor, preclude the mechanization of
transportation. The togetherness of organic life, as in the relationship of man
and mount, a symbiotic harmony, remains in effect on Gor.
I was aflight!
For a time I muchly gave the bird its head, and then, some pasangs out, drew it
about, to sweep the sky in a vast circle, this centering about the inn, far
below.
“You will caress me again, will you not?†asked my servant.
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