Norman, John - Gor 20 - Players of Gor.txt

Norman, John - Gor 20 - Players of Gor.txt Page 42

by Players of Gor [lit]

feet. The three women seeming to cower behind him, covered from head to toe in

  robes of concealment, huddled together, ducking its great swings. Before

  Petrucchio, as though just having entered into the same area, the object of his

  attention, were Chino and Lecchio, in the garb of cloth workers, and with packs

  on their backs. “Back, even in your vast numbers, you warriors and foes,” cried

  Petrucchio, grimly, “lest I slice you like roast tarsk, lest I shred you like

  tur-pah and peel you like suls!”

  Chino and Lecchio, understood as two simple travelers on the road, come

  unexpectedly on Petrucchio and his companions, looked at one another,

  wonderingly.

  “Avaunt, speedily!” cried Petrucchio, swinging the great sword again, the girls

  behind him ducking once more.

  “But, good sir,” called Chino, keeping his distance, “we are but two humble

  cloth workers!”

  “Do not seek to deceive Petrucchio, captain of Turia!” cried Petrucchio. “To him

  your disguises, as brilliantly contrived as they may be to deceive others, are

  as flimsy and transparent as a veil of Anango!” The Petrucchio character, it

  might been noted, is commonly, in the northern hemisphere, portrayed as a

  captain from Turia, a city securely far away, off in the southern hemisphere. In

  the southern hemisphere, I have heard, he is usually presented as a captain from

  Ar. The important thing, apparently, is that he comes from a city which is large

  and impressive, and which tends to evoke a certain apprehension, or envy, and is

  far away. It is always easier to believe that folks far away are pretentious

  cowards. One has seldom met them in battle. Another advantage of choosing a

  distant city is that there

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  are not likely to be citizens of that city in the audience, who might take

  exception to the performance, though, to be sure, most Goreans understand what

  is going on and tend to enjoy the farce immensely, even if the captain is

  supposed to be one of their own.

  My own identity, incidentally, at least if one could believe my credentials,

  which had brought me into the feasting hall, was supposed to be of Turia. These

  credentials had been loaned to me by a fellow down whose throat I had stuffed

  enough Tassa powder to put a kailiauk under for several Ahn. To make sure I had

  also thrust him, tightly bound and effectively gagged, almost as perfectly as

  though he might have been a female slave, into a closet. He would presumably be

  found there tomorrow, or the day after, by a cleaning slave. The reference to a

  “veil of Anango,” of course, was a reference to the veil in a well-known farce,

  “The Veil of Anango,” performed by many companies. Indeed, it was one of the

  more frequently played items in the repertory of Boots’s company. The leading

  character in it, or the female lead, is played by the Brigella character. That

  role now, of course, was played by Boots’s slave, “Lady Telitsia.” It was a

  reference which would be understood by Gorean audiences. Too, of course, in this

  context, it was supposed to convey that Petrucchio regarded himself as a very

  clever fellow, certainly not one to be easily fooled.

  “You see our garb,” protested Chino. “It is that of the cloth workers.”

  “Yes,” insisted Lecchio.

  “Hah!” cried Petrucchio, skeptically, but he rested the point of the great

  wooden sword on the platform, and, with one hand, beneath that long-nosed

  halfmask, he characteristically began to twirl one half of the huge, fearsome

  mustache.

  “and here are our packs!” cried Chino, exhibiting the packs.

  “Doubtless filled with weapons,” surmised Petrucchio, twirling the fearsome

  mustache.

  The girls in the robes of concealment, cowering behind Petrucchio, cried out in

  fear.

  “Quiver not in such abject terror, my dears,” said Petrucchio, reassuringly.

  “Indeed, it is not even necessary to shudder, unless it should please you to do

  so. Indeed, you may even breathe calmly, if that should be your wish, for as

  much as though you were safe in your beds within your stone keeps, protected

  each by the vigilance of a thousand valiant guards, you are safe here, nay,

  safer, though even on a public road, for here you stand within the walls of my

  steel.”

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  “My hero!” cried the first girl.

  “My hero!” cried the second

  “My hero!” cried the third.

  Chino and Lecchio looked at one another.

  Petrucchio then, twirling his mustache, turned confidentially to the audience.

  “In case it is not altogether clear what is going on here,” he said, “I am

  Petrucchio, a captain from Turia, and have here, under my protection, three

  noble ladies, each of gentle birth and high station.”

  There was much laughter here. The girls, of course, as the audience well knew,

  would all be slaves. They were, after all, upon a stage. They were, of course,

  Rowena, Lady Telitsia and Bina. There were only men in the audience. To be sure,

  there was an empty place at the right hand of Belnar, the ubar of Brundisium. I

  had seen him only once before, in a royal box, set among the tiers at the

  baiting pit. He was a corpulent, greasy-looking fellow. On his left hand sat

  Flaminius, who seemed in a glum mood this evening. Also about them were various

  officers and officials. Two or three cushions down, on Belnar’s left, was a

  fellow in the robes of the caste of players, Temenides, of Cos. It was

  interesting to me that a member of the caste of players should be seated at the

  first table, and particularly, in this city, one allied with Ar, one of Cos. To

  be sure, there tend to be few restrictions on the movements of players on Gor.

  They tend to travel about, on the whole, pretty much as they please. They tend

  to have free access almost everywhere, being welcomed, unquestioned, in most

  Gorean camps, villages, town and cities. In this respect, they tend to resemble

  musicians, who generally enjoy similar privileges. There is a saying on Gor, “No

  musician can be a stranger.” This saying is sometimes, too, applied to members

  of the caste of players. The saying is somewhat difficult to translate into

  English, for in Gorean, as not in English, the same word is commonly used for

  both “stranger” and “enemy.” When one understands that, of course, it is easier

  to understand the saying in its full meaning.

  “Is it true that you are,” inquired Chino, “as you suggested when first you

  called our attention to your perspicacity in penetrating disguises, Petrucchio?”

  “Yes,” said Petrucchio.

  “Who is Petrucchio?” asked Lecchio. “I have never heard of him. Surely you have

  not either.”

  “The noble Petrucchio, the famed Petrucchio?” asked Chino.

  “Chino,” protested Lecchio.

  “Shhh,” said Chino, admonishing his companion.

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  “Yes,” said Petrucchio.
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  “The courageous Petrucchio?”

  “Chino!” said Lecchio.

  “Shhh,” said Chino, again admonishing his companion to silence.

  “Yes,” said Petrucchio.

  “The glorious and clever Petrucchio?”

  “Yes,” said Petrucchio.

  “He of Turia?” inquired Chino.

  ` “Yes,” said Petrucchio. “Quake, of you must. Quail, if you would rather.”

  “Surely you have heard of this fellow, Lecchio,” said Chino to his companion.

  “No,” admitted Lecchio, which response brought a swift kick in the shins. “Yes,

  yes!” cried Lecchio. “Of course, the great Petrucchio!”

  “Ws it not he who single-handedly carved broad swaths thought the legion of ten

  cities in the seven meadows of Saleria?” asked Chino of Lecchio.

  “I see that my reputation has preceded me,” said Petrucchio, twirling his

  mustache.

  “And lifted the sieges of eleven cities?”

  “Maybe,” said Lecchio.

  “And breached the gates of fifteen?”

  “Maybe,” said Lecchio.

  “And alone stormed the ramparts of twenty cities, reducing them to rubble?”

  asked Chino.

  “I think so,” said Lecchio, uncertainly.

  “And when set upon by ten thousand Tuchuks in their own country routed them

  all?”

  “Eleven thousand,” said Petrucchio.

  “Yes,” cried Lecchio. “It was he!”

  “None other,” said Petrucchio.

  “What bring you to these lands, noble captain?” inquired Chino. “Is it your

  intention to bring them to devastation, perhaps for some fancied slight to your

  honor?”

  “No, no,” said Petrucchio, modestly.

  “Is it then the sacking of a few cities you are up to?”

  “No,” admitted Petrucchio.

  “Not even the defeating of a small army?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Not even the burning of a few fields, the seizure of a piddling harvest or two?

  “No,” said Petrucchio.

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  “What then, possibly, could you be doing here?” inquired Chino.

  “I am, as you may have by now surmised, Petrucchio,” said Petrucchio, “a captain

  of Turia, and have here,” and her he indicated the women behind him, “under my

  protection, for which services I have taken fee, three noble ladies, each of

  gentle birth and high station.”

  “They are, then, all free women?” asked Chino.

  “Of course!” responded Petrucchio, somewhat huffily, seemingly prepared, at the

  drop of an innuendo, to take umbrage, with all the fearsome consequences which

  that might entail for a hapless offender.

  “How fortunate they are to be under the care of one so skilled and courageous,

  as well as wise,” said Chino, adding, seemingly ‘sotto voice’, to Lecchio, “or

  so it would seem.”

  “What, ho!” cried Petrucchio. “What means this, ‘or so it would seem’?”

  “His hearing,” said Chino to Lecchio, who was sticking his finger in his ear and

  shaking his head, as though to restore his sense of hearing after having been

  partially deafened, “is more acute than that of the prowling sleen!” Then he

  said to Petrucchio, “Oh, it is nothing, I suppose.”

  “And what, good sir,” demanded Petrucchio, “might be the meaning of this guarded

  ‘I suppose’?”

  “Why, it, too, is nothing,” said Chino, adding, “—I suppose.”

  “Do you doubt my capacity to defend these damsels to the death, against even

  armies?” asked Petrucchio.

  “Not at all,” said Chino, hastily. “I was merely wondering if such extreme

  exertions on their behalf might, under the possible circumstances, be fully

  justified.”

  “I do not take your meaning, sir,” said Petrucchio, warily.

  “They are, of course, free women,” said Chino, reassuring himself of the point.

  “Of course,” said Petrucchio.

  “Then my fears are groundless,” said Chino, relieved.

  “What fears?” asked Petrucchio.

  “From what rich, high city might you be coming?” he asked, as though it mattered

  naught, but, obviously, secretly, as though it might matter a great deal.

  “Why from the high towers of Pseudopolis,” said Petrucchio.

  There is no such city or town, of course. It was invented for the purposes of

  the play. Too, there is no really good translation into English for the town.

  Similar English inventions might be such things as “Phonyville” or

  “Bamboozleberg.”

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  “It is as I feared,” groaned Chino, supposedly merely to Lecchio.

  “It is?” asked Lecchio.

  “Yes,” said Chino, dismally.

  “Here, here,” called Petrucchio. “What is going on there?”

  “No,” said Chino, firmly. “It is impossible. The very thought is absurd.”

  “What are you talking about?” pressed Petrucchio.

  “It is nothing, Captain,” said Chino. “Though, to be sure, if it were not for my

  confidence in your acuity and unerring judgment, I would suspect there might be

  cause for serious alarm.”

  “Speak clearly, fellow,” demanded Petrucchio.

  “You have, of course, been paid in advance for your troubles?” asked Chino.

  “Of course,” said Petrucchio.

  “In authenticated gold, naturally,” added Chino.

  “Authenticated gold?” asked Petrucchio.

  “Of course,” said Chino. “If you have not had the coins authenticated, my

  friend, Lecchio, here, is certified by the caste of Builders to perform the

  relevant tests.”

  “We assure you, good sir,” said one of the women, Rowena, “that our gold is

  good!”

  “It might not hurt to check on the matter, I think,” speculated Petrucchio,

  suspiciously, “especially as we have here at our disposal one qualified to

  conduct the assays.”

  “Unnecessary!” cried Rowena.

  “Insulting!” cried Lady Telitsia.

  “Absurd!” cried Bina.

  “It seems they are not eager for the coins to be tested,” observed Chino,

  meaningfully, adding, “even though there would be no charge for the service. I

  wonder why?”

  “No charge, you say?” asked Petrucchio.

  “Not between friends, such as we,” said Chino.

  “By all means, then,” cried Petrucchio, and, with difficulty, he sheathed his

  great sword, and drew three pieces of gold-colored metal from his wallet, stage

  coins, handing them to Lecchio.

  Lecchio held the coins up, one by one, holding up also, behind them, one or two

  fingers, as though he would see if he could peer through them.
/>   “How are they?” asked Chino.

  “So far, they seem good,” Lecchio muttered, “but many forgeries pass the first

  test.” He then drew from his pack a glass

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  of the Builders, used for identifying distant objects. “Oh, oh,” he muttered,

  darkly.

  “What is it?” asked Petrucchio, eagerly.

  “It is too early to tell,” said Lecchio, replacing the glass of the Builders in

  his pack. “I must be sure.”

  “Surely things are all right,” said Chino, optimistically.

  “Doubtless,” said Lecchio. “Doubtless.” But he seemed a bit uncertain about it.

  In a moment now he was clinking the coins carefully together. He listened to

  these small sounds intently, professionally. Then he spit on each coin and, with

  his index finger, carefully rubbed the moisture into small, exact circles,

  observing their appearance. He then lifted his index finger up, his eyes closed,

  holding it first turned to the wind, and then away from the wind, and then, his

  eyes opened, repeated the test, studying his finger intently. He then commenced

  his final doubtless decisive round of tests. He bit into one of the coins. then

  he drew forth from his pack a small vial filled with white crystals which he

  sprinkled on the coins. “What is that?” asked Petrucchio. “They are best with

  salt,” said Lecchio. He then repeated the test, and bit each of the coins

  carefully, thoughtfully, expertly, not hurrying, as a connoisseur might sample

  varieties of Bazi tea or fine wines.

  “Yes, yes?” asked Chino.

  Lecchio’s face was drawn and grim.

  “Yes, yes!” pressed Petrucchio.

  “False,” announced Lecchio, grimly.

  “No!” cried Rowena.

  “What is the meaning of this?” said Petrucchio to the women, sternly.

  Lecchio dropped the coins into his wallet.

  “If there should be anything wrong with the coins,” said Rowena, “I assure you

  we have no knowledge of it. Further, if anything, in spite of our intentions and

  care in these matters, should prove to be truly amiss, perhaps because of some

  oversight or subtle inadvertence, have no fear but what it will be promptly

  corrected.”

  “Let us see your other coins,” said Lecchio.

 

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