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

Norman, John - Gor 23 - Renegades of Gor.txt Page 32

by Renegades of Gor [lit]

  and on the other side of the interior wall to the left, as one would face the

  cell door, in what, presumably would have been the cell adjoining ours, there

  was a bursting inward of brick and stone. In a moment there was a cloud of dust

  in the corridor, some of which drifted into our cell. I put my arm before my

  face. Lady Claudia’s veil and Lady Publia’s hood doubtless afforded them some

  protection.

  We heard a cough in the corridor outside.

  In a moment a tall fellow entered our cell. He wore a black hood, which, save

  for a narrow, rectangular opening for the eyes, covered his entire head. The

  hood and shoulders, in particular, were covered with dust. He struck some dust

  from his clothes and body. “The wall weakens,” he said to me. “In a few Ehn they

  will be coming again. They are forming. We can no longer keep them back. Their

  engines are almost climbing the walls.”

  I nodded.

  “You are Lady Publia, the warder?” he asked Lady Claudia.

  “I am,” she said, boldly.

  “I do not approve of woman warders,” said he. “It is a task for men.”

  She tossed her head.

  “Perhaps you regret having accepted the position,” he said.

  “Perhaps,” said Lady Claudia.

  At our feet, Lady Publia, kneeling, bent over, small, hooded, the leash tight

  against the back of her neck, unable to raise her head, squirmed and uttered

  wild, tiny noises. We paid her no attention, as she was the prisoner. I

  supposed, however, that perhaps she did, now, upon reflection, regret having

  accepted the position of warder.

  (pg.252) “You have pretty legs,” said the fellow to Lady Claudia.

  She did not respond.

  “What is your caste?” he asked.

  “The Merchants,” she said.

  “Why are you not in the white and gold,” he asked, “on this, of all days?” White

  and gold, or white and yellow, are the caste colors of the Merchants.

  She did not answer.

  “You are not even in the Robes of Concealment,” he said.

  “They are not appropriate here,” she said.

  “You do not wear them because it is not appropriate for them here,” he asked,

  “or is that why you are here, because it is not appropriate to wear such things

  here?”

  “There are many places where they would not be appropriate,” she said.

  “Yes,” he said, “for example, on a Cosian sales block.”

  “I meant other places,” she said.

  “It is true,” he said, “for example, in climbing the rubble, carrying stones to

  workmen on the walls, in tending the wounded, and such. Thus I wonder why it is

  that you chose to be here.”

  “It is cool here,” she said.

  “And perhaps you could feel more like a man here,” he said.

  “Perhaps,” she said, as though angrily.

  Lady Publia, in the hood, tied at our feet, made a small, wild noise, as of

  understanding, acknowledgment, dismay, regret, misery and pain. The fellow’s

  question had apparently seemed profoundly meaningful to her, for some reason. At

  any rate, if she had had secret, internal pretensions to manhood, or to

  similarity to men, or something along these lines, it seemed unlikely she now

  retained them. I thought that she probably now realized she was something quite

  different, and in my opinion, something quite individual, authentic and

  wonderful, a woman. At any rate, she would know something that was indisputable,

  that she was at our feet, a helplessly bound female.

  “From the look of it, woman,” said he to Lady Claudia, “I do not think you have

  underrobes beneath those rags.”

  “That is my own concern,” she said, loftily.

  (pg.253) “By nightfall you will probably be in a collar, licking the feet of a

  Cosian,” he said.

  “Perhaps,” she said, angrily.

  “And what of you, my little vulo,” he said, not unkindly, crouching beside Lady

  Publia. “I wager that you, too, would like to have the opportunity to prostrate

  yourself before Cosians.”

  Lady Publia began to squirm and wriggle wildly, making piteous sounds.

  “You must have fed her very well,” said the fellow, looking up at Lady Claudia,

  whom he took for Lady Publia.

  “She has a great deal of energy.”

  Lady Publia struggled wildly, trying to pull her head up, against the thick

  collar and heavy strap. But, in the end, she was exactly as she had been before.

  “Why is she gagged?” asked the fellow.

  “That she not be able to make her identity known,” I said.

  Lady Publia stopped moving, startled.

  “It is the orders of Aemilianus,” I said. “he was not certain whether or not

  there were more than one spy of such a nature in the city. Accordingly, in this

  fashion, if there should be more than one such agent, Cosians would not know

  which of them was mounted on the pole. The hood, of course, has a similar

  purpose. To some extent, it might, though it seems a little late now, impair the

  functioning of their intelligence network in the city. Similarly the other

  agents, if there are such, might be intimidated or terrified, not knowing which

  of their number had been captured, how much was known, who might be next, and so

  on.”

  “The commander is a clever man,” said the fellow.

  “Yes,” I agreed. I did have respect for Aemilianus as a commander.

  Lady Publia squirmed, and wept. The hood was wet with her tears.

  “Do not fret, little vulo,” he said to her, putting his hand on her head, “you

  will soon be on the spit, cooking in the sun.”

  She wept and struggled.

  “It seems there will be little difficulty in getting this one to squirm on the

  spear,” said the fellow.

  (pg.254) Wild, tiny, piteous noises emanated from Lady Publia’s hood.

  “Sometimes they wriggle well,” he said, “perhaps because they are afraid, or

  because they think they can get off the spear somehow, or because they are

  trying to end it. Sometimes they try to hold themselves as still as possible.

  Sometimes then we use the whip on them, and sometimes not. If we let them take

  their time about it, of course, the penetration is sometimes as little as a hort

  an Ahn. The end result, of course, is the same.”

  Lady Publia squirmed hysterically. She uttered desperate, piteous, pleading

  sounds.

  “Usually they are not this agitated,” said the fellow. “Usually, by this time,

  they are numb with fear and dread, and offer no resistance. Many cannot even

  walk.”

  I recalled that Lady Claudia had been much that way earlier.

  “It is time to go, vulo,” said the fellow, getting to his feet.

  Lady Publia, at his feet, shook her head wildly, feverishly, piteously,

  desperately, as she could, in the constraint of the collar. It must have burned

  the back of her neck. Because of the coils of rope I
could barely see her back.

  “She begs for time, for mercy,” said the fellow.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  She whimpered, piteously.

  “Filthy spy,” he said. He then, angrily, spurned her with his foot, thrusting

  her to her side.

  Lady Claudia, wide-eyed, frightened, looked at the prisoner, lying on her side,

  helpless, and looked then, too, at the fellow. Perhaps she had never before seen

  a woman so treated, or at least a free woman so treated.

  The fellow then freed the ankles of Lady Publia, and brought the leash forward,

  between her legs. He then coiled it to the leash ring. Then, one hand on her

  arm, the other on the leash coils, he pulled her to her knees.

  Lady Publia whimpered piteously before him. I think she was now beginning,

  better than before, to understand her unenviable position. I feared she might

  collapse or faint. I was not certain she could even stand now.

  “Think now on Cosian gold,” he said, bitterly.

  (pg.255) She shuddered.

  “Let us show your Cosians friends how pretty you will look on the spear,” he

  said, angrily.

  She shook her head, numbly.

  “I am now giving you tether,” he said. He shook out the leash. “When I pull

  twice on the leash,” he said, “you will rise and follow me, responsive to, and

  conducted by, the leash.”

  But before he could draw twice on the leash, giving the prisoner her signal, she

  thrust her head down, to his feet, reaching for them, as she had earlier for

  mine. He let her find them, for a moment, and press, and rub, her face, her

  head, her gagged, covered mouth desperately, piteously against them.

  “You seem to have the dispositions, and makings, of a slave,” he mused.

  She lifted her head to him, in the darkness of the hood, pathetically,

  hopefully.

  “And surely your body,” he said, “so trim and excitingly shaped, is much like

  those that are found in slave markets.”

  She whimpered affirmatively, beggingly.

  “But unfortunately,” he said, “you are a free woman.

  she shook her head.

  “You seem to have forgotten your brand,” he said.

  She made a small, begging sound.

  “But perhaps all you free sluts are truly slaves and belong in collar,” he said.

  He looked at Lady Claudia. “Your friend, Lady Publia, the warder,” he said to

  the prisoner, “had pretty calves and ankles. doubtless those are displayed for

  the interest and delectation of Cosians, and masters.”

  Lady Claudia stood back, not answering.

  I wondered if the fellow saw that Lady Publia was thinking of running.

  “Traitress,” said the fellow to Lady Publia.

  Lady Publia then, suddenly, leaped to her feet and tried to run, but, in an

  instant, expertly, with a turn of the leash, she was flung to her side before

  him. He held the leash. His foot on it, near her neck, kept her head down. Lady

  Claudia’s hand went before her veiled lips. She looked down at the helpless,

  prostrate Lady Publia. I supposed that perhaps Lady (pg.256) Claudia had never

  seen a woman subjected to leash control before.

  “That was stupid,” said the fellow. “Now, shall we begin again?” He took his

  foot off the leash. He shook the leash once, to alert the prisoner that a leash

  signal was imminent. Then he drew on the leash twice. “Stand,” he said.

  “Follow.”

  Lady Publia struggled to her feet, then her legs gave out, under her, and she

  collapsed.

  “Be warned,” he said. “If I carry you, I shall carry you as a slave is carried.”

  But I think Lady Publia now, truly, could not stand. I think that her bonds, the

  security of her gag, her inability to dislodge the hood, its effectiveness in

  concealing her, the ease with which her attempted escape had been dealt with,

  had all combined to make clear to her her utter helplessness, that she could

  not, in the least, by her will or action, alter the course of events. We had

  seen to it. Now she could scarcely move.

  With a thong he addressed himself to her ankles.

  “What is wrong with you?” asked the fellow, looking up at Lady Claudia. She

  stood there, frightened. It seemed she herself could hardly stand.

  Lady Claudia looked at him. She put out her hand a little, piteously.

  “Do not concern yourself with her,” said the fellow, finishing with the knot,

  jerking it tight, on Lady Publia’s ankles. “She is a spy.”

  Lady Publia struggled weakly, her ankles now thonged.

  “It is a pity that such lusciousness must be destroyed,” he said. “Such

  shapeliness has slave value.”

  Lady Publia whimpered.

  As he considered the prisoner, Lady Claudia hurried to my side, keenly

  distressed, half beside herself. “You cannot let her go to the spear!” she

  whispered.

  “I suppose once you were a haughty free woman,” he said to Lady Publia. “You do

  not seem so haughty now. Doubtless once, too, you thought yourself very clever,

  when you betrayed your city and accepted Cosian gold. Now, however, I suspect

  that you are less sure of your cleverness.”

  I motioned that Lady Claudia should return to her place.

  “What is wrong with her?” asked the fellow.

  (pg.257) “She pities the prisoner,” I said.

  “Spare her!” cried Lady Claudia, suddenly.

  Her outburst was greeted by a frenzied squirming, and a renewal of tiny,

  pathetic noises from the prisoner.

  “Do not take her to the spear!” begged Lady Claudia. “What can it matter? The

  city, I am certain, will soon fall. What difference will it make?”

  I wished Lady Claudia would have kept her lovely face shut.

  “Why do you think we have waited until now?” he asked. “Let that be the irony,

  if you wish, that today, of all days, when the citadel surely must shortly fall,

  when she is so close to rescue by her Cosian friends, but so far, that she,

  today, of all days, in full view of the foe, in justice and defiance, is placed

  upon the spear!”

  Lady Publia shuddered.

  Lady Claudia shrank back, horrified. She looked at me, wildly.

  “Would you like a hand with her?” I asked. This would bring me close enough to

  deal with him.

  “I can manage,” he said. “Where are the others?”

  “What others?” I asked.

  “Usually there is a squad of three, with the warder,” he said.

  “Doubtless they are about somewhere,” I said.

  “The other two are doubtless on the wall,” he said.

  “Perhaps,” I said. That surely seemed a likely supposition on his part, given

  his information.

  “It was wise of them,” he said, “to move the other prisoner out, if they could

  bring only one man here this morning.”

  “That would seem to make sense,” I said.

  “He would probably, in any case,” he said, “have been too wea
k to do anything.”

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “Doubtless, a child could have handled him by now,” he said.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “We are all weak,” he said, irritably.

  “Are you certain that you would not care for my assistance?” I asked.

  (pg.258) “No,” he said. “This filthy, treacherous little vulo’s weight is

  nothing.”

  He turned about then and bent to pick up the quivering Lady Publia, to hoist her

  to his shoulder. Suddenly he stopped. He had then, apparently for the first

  time, detected the bodies, muchly concealed with straw, which we had hidden at

  the side of the cell. I moved quickly toward him but then it seemed, suddenly,

  as thought the world had burst apart, and I spun about, covering my head with my

  hands, and it seemed in that instant that the cell was filled with bursting

  stones and bricks, and there was a great sound, and Lady Claudia screamed, and

  one could hardly see or breath for an instant, the dust in the air, the white,

  bright dust, and we were coughing, and my eyes stung, and there was debris all

  about, and it seemed half the cell wall was gone, and I squinted against the

  light, so bright, the dust glittering in it, flooding the room. The fellow had

  lost his footing. The floor, where he was was crooked, buckled. Some of the

  great stones tilted upward. He seemed half in shock. He turned, in the dust,

  pointing back to the wall, startled, that he would apprise me of his discovery,

  not even seemingly suspicious, and met the stone in my hand, part of the wall I

  had seized up, and sank to his knees. Lady Claudia crouched down, shuddering,

  her hands over her head. Lady Publia lay prone among the buckled tiles, perhaps

  in shock. Both were covered with dust.

  I scrambled up an embankment of debris to the great opening in the wall.

  There, spread before me, in the bright morning sun, under the clear blue sky,

  bright with glittering spear blades and shields, with nodding plumes, with the

  standards of companies and regiments, dotted with engines, here and there a

  tharlarion stalking about, tarnsmen in the sky, in serried ranks, some

  stretching back to buildings still standing, even crowding streets in the

  distance, most on an artificial plain extending for three hundred yards about,

 

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