Norman, John - Gor 23 - Renegades of Gor.txt

Norman, John - Gor 23 - Renegades of Gor.txt Page 28

by Renegades of Gor [lit]

  or in my own bed.”

  I did not speak.

  “If you had first met me in a slave market, I on a slave shelf or bench, chained

  there, a property, waiting to be purchased, would you have considered buying

  me?”

  “Certainly,” I said.

  “Am I that attractive?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “That pleases me,” she whispered. Then she shuddered. “But woe,” she said, “I am

  a free woman.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I am afraid,” she said.

  I held her more closely to me.

  “That is why they have been feeding me, isn’t it?” she asked. “For tomorrow?”

  “I think so,” I said.

  She sobbed, against me. I felt her tears on my chest. Then, suddenly, she looked

  at me, concerned. “But what of you?” she asked.

  “Do not concern yourself with me,” I said.

  “No,” she said, “what of you?”

  “Willful free woman,” I chided her.

  “What of you?” she pressed.

  “I do not know,” I said. “I am not sure.”

  She put her head back, against my shoulder. The moonlight streamed in through

  the high, barred aperture. It was quiet outside. I held her in my arms, for a

  time, the naked spy, in the straw.

  “Am I to be beaten tonight?” she asked.

  “Is it necessary?” I asked.

  “No!” she whispered.

  “You are eager to serve, and be pleasing?” I asked.

  (pg.220) “Yes!” she said.

  “Then it does not seem that there would be much point in it,” I said.

  “No!” she hastened to assure me. “But if you were not pleased, you would,

  wouldn’t you?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said, “or if I wished to do so.”

  She shuddered against me, with pleasure. “I wish,” she said, her voice soft,

  thrilled, vibrant with soft, frightened emotion, “that I had met a man such as

  you, long ago.”

  “Had you done so,” I said, “you presumably would not be here now.”

  “I do not regret having known you, and having served you, and as you have made

  me serve you, even under these circumstances.”

  “You enjoy serving,” I said.

  “Yes,” she said, “I do, and had I the choice I would choose to have no choice

  but to serve, and serve as you have made me serve, totally.”

  “It is time to go to sleep,” I said.

  “Can you sleep at this time, on this night?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  She then lay down in the straw, next to me. I heard her sob.

  “I do not know if they will feed you in the morning or not,” I said, “before

  they come for you, near noon. They might. In the event they do, do not eat the

  food. Give it all to me.”

  “All of it?” she said.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “You would take the food, that food?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “You could do that?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  She looked at me, puzzled.

  “Surely you recognize that I would get more good out of it than you would,” I

  said.

  “Undoubtedly,” she said, shuddering.

  “Certainly,” I said.

  “I do not think I would be able to eat it, anyway,” she said.

  (pg.221) “Good,” I said. “Then there is no problem.”

  “No,” she said. “There is no problem.”

  “Excellent,” I said. I then, in a moment or two, I cannot remember it, was

  asleep.

  14 Morning

  “They are going to come for me before noon,” she whispered.

  The cell was in darkness.

  “I know,” I said. “I heard.”

  A few Ehn ago I had awakened instantly, hearing the movement of the observation

  panel. The warder had lifted a small, tharlarion-oil lamp to the aperture.

  “Prisoner Claudia, forward,” she had whispered.

  Lady Claudia had gone forward to kneel, before the door, dimly illuminated in

  the tiny bit of light coming through the aperture.

  I had pretended to be asleep.

  I conjectured it was something like an Ahn before dawn.

  “Glory to Ar!” whispered the warder.

  “Glory to Ar,” moaned Lady Claudia. I do not think she had slept.

  I then saw, in the light of the lamp, which had then been set on the floor

  outside the lower panel, the water pan put beneath the door. This was emptied

  into the small cistern by Lady Claudia, and the pan returned to the warder.

  “Is he awake?” inquired the warder.

  “I do not think so,” said Lady Claudia.

  “Food pan forward,” said the warder.

  In a moment Lady Claudia knelt behind the cell’s food pan, brought forward.

  “Glory to Ar!” whispered the warder.

  (pg.223) “Glory to Ar,” sobbed Lady Claudia.

  I think that the whispered tones of the warder were motivated primarily by her

  desire that Lady Claudia obtain her food and finish her feeding before I might

  awaken. In this fashion I might not take the food from her, or force her to

  share it. Perhaps she even expected her to be drawn out of the cell before I

  awakened, that I might awaken and simply find her gone. That might be easiest

  for them. Still I expected they would send two or three men to fetch her.

  Lady Claudia was now again kneeling before the cell’s food pan, and the head of

  the warder, again holding the tiny lamp up, reappeared in the observation

  aperture.

  “See?” asked the warder, whispering. “There is much more food there than usual,

  and meat!”

  Lady Claudia looked down at the pan, in the dim light.

  “Spread your knees!” suddenly hissed the warder.

  Lady Claudia, startled, frightened, did so.

  “There now,” said the warder, amusement in her voice, “that is like the slave

  girl you are!”

  Lady Claudia, interestingly, made no move to draw her knees back together.

  Rather she knelt there in that profoundly meaningful, indicative and vulnerable

  position, looking up at the warder. The food pan, which for once seemed amply

  filled, was before her, now almost as though framed between her knees.

  “You and I know that you are really a slave, don’t we?” asked the warder. “But

  we will not tell the men, will we?”

  Lady Claudia said nothing.

  “Do you know why you are fed so heartily?” she asked.

  “It is a kindness to me,” she said.

  “No,” laughed the warder. “It is to build up your strength so that you will

  squirm well on the impaling spear.”

  Lady Claudia looked at her, doubtless with horror.

  “We want you to put on a good show for your Cosian friends,” said the warder.

  â€�
�You may even last two or three Ahn.”

  Lady Claudia shuddered. In such an impalement, the female is usually simply set

  upon the spear. It is not necessary to bind them, straightened, they cannot

  reach the spear nor obtain any leverage for removing themselves from it. They

  are held upon it, helplessly, by their own weight. (pg.224) Usually such a fate

  is visited only upon a free woman. It is thought that it gives them time to

  consider and repent their ways. A slave girl, on the other hand, would be more

  likely, like meat, to be thrown to sleen.

  “I heard them talking,” said the warder. “They are going to come for you before

  noon, too. Perhaps they will come as soon as it is well light. I do not know,

  nor do you. Do you have six Ahn, or three, or two? Tremble within your cell,

  waiting to hear them come for you! When you hear the small sounds outside the

  door you will know they are here. When you see the door open you will know they

  have come for you! Eat well, naked spy!” The observation panel then slid shut

  with a click. I also heard the small latch drop into place, securing it, so that

  it could not be opened from the inside.

  “They are going to come for me before noon,” she had whispered, having crawled

  to my side.

  “I know. I heard,” I had told her.

  “I wanted to bid you farewell,” she said.

  “Bring me the food,” I said.

  “Of course,” she said, bitterly.

  She turned about and crawled back toward the center of the cell where, feeling

  about, she located the pan of food. She then lifted it and rose up, and came

  back, slowly, feeling her way with her feet, through the straw.

  “Why will they not wait at least until noon?” she asked, in misery.

  “It is a good sign,” I said. “It is a very good sign.” I did not explain this to

  her, but from so small a detail I gathered some estimate of the straits of the

  defenders, and the numbers and positions of the Cosians, and the menace of their

  engines.

  “I do not understand,” she said.

  “We are on the cityside of the citadel, are we not?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. Even had we been brought to the cell blindfolded, there would

  have been no difficulty in making this determination. It was clear in the

  patterns of sunlight in the cell, that the cell faced south, the city. Too, even

  more obviously, we could hear the sounds of the city, and not of the harbor.

  Indeed, of late, we had even heard the sounds of (pg.225) collapsed buildings,

  some of them perhaps within a hundred yards of us.

  “That is it,” I said.

  “I do not understand,” she said.

  “It is possible that you will soon be in greater danger from Cosians than from

  your compatriots of Ar’s Station.”

  “You’re joking,” she said.

  “That is why they will not be waiting until noon.”

  “I do not understand,” she said.

  “I do not even know if the citadel can stand until noon.”

  “That is absurd,” she said. “It is impregnable.”

  “No,” I said. “The defenders are worn and half starved. The buildings about the

  citadel have been brought down. The engines can fire at almost point-blank

  range. All the might of Cos in the north will be focused on this one small

  point, the citadel.”

  “What will happen?” she asked.

  “The women and children will already have been moved to the harbor side of the

  citadel,” I said.

  “What will happen!” she cried.

  “The citadel will be taken,” I said. “Cosians will enter, with fire and wood.

  The noncombatants, the able-bodied men, the soldiers, the garrison, what’s left

  of it, will then be forced to withdraw to the wharves and piers. Then they will

  be driven from them. I fear there will be great slaughter in and about the

  harbor. Perhaps few will escape.”

  “Surely terms will be sought,” she said.

  “The Cosians have waited long for Ar’s Station,” I said. “Doubtless they never

  guessed for resistance they would meet. They have lost many men. Their patience

  is at an end.”

  “It is my fault,” she said. “Better that I had been what I rightfully should

  have been, a slave girl.”

  “It is not your fault,” I said. “I doubt that your pittance of treachery made

  any difference whatsoever. It is the fault of Ar.”

  “But I am guilty,” she said.

  “Yes,” I said, “and for your crime perhaps a reduction to bondage would be

  fitting. Too, given what you are, I think that such a fate would be quite

  appropriate for you.”

  “It is true,” she whispered, “__Master.”

  (pg.226) I then turned my attention to the pan of food. “There is much food

  here,” I said, “and meat. I doubt that even those at the central crenels, those

  on the towers, those defending the gate itself, feed as well this morning.”

  “But you are only putting it to your lips,” she said.

  “I am tasting it,” I said.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “It seems good,” I said.

  “What is your concern?” she asked.

  “It is nothing,” I said.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I thought they might have entered something into the food,” I said, “in

  kindness, a painkiller, something with an analgesic effect, to ease your pain.”

  “If they have,” she said, “I would appreciate a little food.”

  “But they have not,” I said. “Apparently it is true, as our charming warder told

  you, that they want you to squirm well on the spear.”

  She shuddered.

  “They see no reason in encouraging espionage,” I said.

  “No,” she whispered.

  I then fed lustily. Strength flooded into my body. I had not eaten so well for

  days. Too, I had the girl, in effect, my girl, bring me water.”

  “That was good,” I said.

  “How is it that you can eat at a time like this?” she asked.

  “You must keep up your hope,” I said.

  “I am a naked female,” she said. “Men can do with me what they want.”

  “True,” I said, “but it may not be the case that every man wants to do exactly

  the same thing to you at exactly the same time.”

  “I suppose not,” she said.

  “And therein lies your hope,” I said.

  “What hope have I,” she asked, “other than they might put me on the spear a

  little later, rather than a little sooner?”

  “I think you have more than you know,” I said.

  “How?” she asked.

  “You have unexpected allies,” I said.

  “Who?” she asked.

  (pg.227) “Outside,” I said, “Cosians.”

  “How can they help?” she asked.r />
  “Perhaps they can’t,” I said. “It is only a possibility.”

  “I think it is near dawn now,” she whispered. There seemed a narrow fringe of

  lightness in the darkness, at the edge of the high window. We looked up at it.

  We could not reach the window, even if she were to stand on my shoulders.

  “I think you are right,” I said.

  “Oh!” she cried, startled, and threw herself into my arms. She looked up at me,

  wildly, frightened.

  “It is the trumpets,” I said. “They signal the attack.”

  There were answering trumpets from the walls.

  There had been a great, ringing blare of trumpets from outside, perhaps hundreds

  of them. The response from the wall, in comparison, brace though it might have

  been, had seemed frail, indeed. When the trumpets had rung out there had been,

  too, from before the citadel, raised the war cries of thousands of men. These

  cried, too, had been answered., by a ragged cheer from the walls. She looked up

  at me, half kneeling, half lying in my arms, in the darkness of the cell. A

  naked woman feels good in one’s arms. I wished I owned her. They feel even

  better when you own them, and they know you own them.

  We then heard a dull impact, from a distance.

  “What is that?” she asked, alarmed.

  There were then two more sounds, much like the first.

  “Come here,” I said, and pulled her, on her side to the outside wall, and lay in

  the straw on the floor there. It is safer there, where the floor, like a

  buttress, reinforces the wall. You are safer there, too, from showering stone,

  bursting inward.

  “It is the artillery,” she said.

  “Yes,” I said.

  We could hear, too, from time to time, the sound of the kick and rattle, and

  vibration of cordage, of a catapult above us, on the walls. They are often roped

  down. Otherwise they can radically change their position, spinning half about,

  or even, literally, flinging themselves back off the walkway. They are easier to

  manage on softer surfaces, where the wheels can be dug in.

  “You are covering my body with your own,” she said.

  (pg.228) “Be quiet,” I whispered to her.

  “You are protecting me,” she said. “You are sheltering me. You are a true

 

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