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

by Players of Gor [lit]

  transfixed with horror.

  I had known, or at least suspected, the identity of the player, incidentally,

  even from Port Kar, when I had first seen him. His limp was distinctive, as well

  as his demeanor and manner of speech. I had seen him, too, at close hand, long

  ago, in the hall of Cernus of Ar. His touchiness on the matters of Scormus of Ar

  and Centius of Cos, and the great match of 10,125 C.A., had also been revealing.

  Took of course, his play had been brilliant. Too, how many poor players would

  have had in their possession a Champion’s Cup, and that of Ar, that cup which

  the brigands had found when they had raided the camp of Boots Tarsk-Bit, that

  which had so fascinated them and which the player had been so anxious to

  conceal? Yet he had not sold it nor had he cast it from him. Under his dark

  robes and grim hood, it seemed, in his heart, he had remained always, and as I

  had suspected, Scormus, of Ar, and a loyal citizen of that municipality.

  “Free the slave,” said Belnar. “She belongs to Scormus of Ar. He has well earned

  her.”

  “Yes,” said a man. “Yes,” said another.

  The fellow who had stood near to Bina during the match, he who would have cut

  her throat if she had erred in her behavior, speaking before the conclusion of

  the game, now cut her wrists free of the thongs. She threw herself to her belly

  before Scormus of Ar, weeping with joy, covering his feet with kisses. “I am

  yours!” she cried. “I am yours!”

  “That is known to me,” said Scormus of Ar.

  “I love you!” she wept.

  “That, too, is known to me,” said Scormus.

  She scrambled to her knees, clutching him about the legs, looking up at him,

  weeping. “You paid a golden tarn disk for me,” she said. “I am not worth so

  much!”

  “I will let you know in the morning,” said Scormus.

  “Take Temenides into custody,” said Belnar. “Strip him. Bind him. Put ropes on

  his neck.”

  Men seized the moaning Temenides and tore away his robes and tied his hands

  behind his back. Then heavy ropes, suitable for confining him in the vat of oil,

  were put on his neck. He looked wildly about himself in terror. “Ubar!” he wept.

  “I have had the oil heated,” said Belnar. “Doubtless it is now, or soon will be

  boiling. In this fashion the end will come swiftly. We have not forgotten, in

  the hospitality of Brundisium, that Temenides is our guest.”

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  “Ubar!” wept Temenides.

  “Ubar,” said Scormus.

  “Yes, Player?” said Belnar. Obviously the player had earned this respect. There

  are few on Gor who do not stand in awe of the skills of high players.

  “As I recall,” said Scormus of Ar, “the life of Temenides, my worthy opponent,

  whom perhaps I treated a bit harshly, being carried somewhat away in the heat of

  the moment , is forfeit not to you, but to me.”

  “So it is,” said Belnar. “Forgive me, Player. I was thoughtless. I shall have

  the temperature of the oil reduced, that it may then again be built slowly to

  boiling. Thus the gradually increasing intensity of your opponent’s torments,

  and their prolonged nature, will be all the more amusing.”

  “That will not be necessary,” said Scormus.

  “Player?” asked Belnar.

  “Temenides,” said Scormus to Temenides, “your life, which was forfeit to me, I

  return to you, and gladly. Once more it is yours. Take it, and those soldiers

  with you, mysteriously here from Cos, and depart this night from Brundisium’s

  walls.”

  “Caste brother!” cried Temenides, gratefully. Some of the men with him then

  freed him and put his robes about him. He hurried with them from the hall.

  Belnar looked after them. He spoke words to a menial. The man, too, then left

  the hall.

  “Scormus of Ar is generous,” said Belnar.

  Scormus inclined his head, briefly. Though Belnar smiled, I do not think he was

  much pleased with the evening’s outcome. He once more looked towards the great

  exit from the hall, through which, moments before, hurrying, Temenides and some

  soldiers from Cos had vanished. Clearly Belnar, the ubar of Brundisium, had

  expected Temenides to best the player, taken then to be a mere low player, a

  troupe’s player, and this had not turned out as he had anticipated. HE was not

  too pleased with Temenides, I was certain, and, for some reason, he also seemed

  to find himself uncomfortable, at least at this time, with the presence of

  Scormus of Ar in his palace. Belnar turned graciously to Scormus. “Player,” said

  he, “honor us by sitting the table of Brundisium’s Ubar.”

  “I thank you, Ubar, but, with your permission, if you see fit graciously to

  grant it, I would prefer to return to my quarters.” He looked down at Bina, at

  his feet. “There, with chains and a whip, I would like to continue the education

  of a slave.”

  “Master,” whispered Bina, licking softly at his ankle.

  “Of course,” said Belnar.

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  “Ubar, too,” said Boots Tarsk-Bit, “we have traveled far to entertain you, and

  we are now weary. Please permit us also, myself, my fellows, and our girls, our

  troupe, to withdraw. We have enjoyed performing for you.”

  “For a sack of gold, I should think so,” said Belnar. There was laughter from

  the courtiers and guests about. Belnar smiled, pleased at this response to his

  jest. “You may withdraw,” he said.

  “Thank you, Ubar,” said Boots, bowing low. He then, following Scormus and Bina,

  followed by his troupe, and the troupe’s girls, left the hall. They would not be

  going to their quarters, of course. They, with their documents of departure,

  earlier prepared, seen to routinely, and unsuspectingly, by the Lady Yanina,

  upon the request of Boots Tarsk-Bit, who had a knack for such details, would

  flee the city. I slipped back among the other guests in the hall. I did not

  think it would be too long before the alarms were sounded.

  “Come now, my guests,” called Belnar, cheerily, “return to your places. The best

  of the evening’s entertainment is yet to come!” There was then a returning to

  places among the banquettes. Naked slaves again scurried about, hurrying in

  their perfume and steel collars, bringing wine, delicacies and assorted

  exquisite viands, zealous to please masters.

  “Where is the Lady Yanina?” inquired Belnar of Flaminius, irritatedly.

  “I know not, Ubar,” admitted Flaminius.

  “She is late, quite late,” said Belnar.

  “Yes, Ubar,” said Flaminius.

  “She should have been her by now,” said Belnar. “She should have been here long

  ago.”

  “Yes, Ubar,” granted Flaminius.

  “I know you have an eye for her beauty,” said Belnar to Flaminius. “I trust you

 
; have not had her taken to a villa outside the walls, where she awaits you now in

  chains and a collar?”

  “No, Ubar,” said Flaminius.

  “She might be quite attractive in such,” said Belnar.

  “Yes, Ubar,” said Flaminius.

  “You have not had her enslaved on the evening of her triumph, have you?”

  “No, Ubar!” said Flaminius.

  “I am joking,” said Belnar.

  “Yes, Ubar,” said Flaminius, uneasily, wiping his brow.

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  “Citizens of Brundisium, and guests,” called Belnar, rising to his feet, “I

  would have preferred for the Lady Yanina, that distinguished citizens of

  Brundisium, know to you all, that true servant of our palace and state, that

  lovely courtier, my trusted agent, my beautiful operative, to conduct the next

  portion of the evening’s entertainment, for the triumph implicit in this moment

  is in a special sense hers. Yet, alas, she is detained! Unfortunately, as the

  evening now arrives at its climax, we must proceed without her.”

  There were some cries of disappointment, of protest.

  “Shall we wait longer?” asked Belnar.

  “No,” called several men. “Proceed,” called others.

  “Let the trunk be brought forth, and placed upon the platform.” said Belnar.

  Some men, from a room to one side, carried out the large trunk which had once

  reposed in the storage wagon of Boots Tarsk-Bit. In that wagon Boots kept many

  things, such as souvenirs, costumes, and props. In it he also kept much of the

  paraphernalia associated with his illusion and magic. IT seemed like an ordinary

  trunk and, indeed, if desired, could serve as one. It was, of course, the trunk

  in which I had been placed earlier, that in which I had been transported to

  Brundisium, that from which I was to be produced, that from which I was to be

  presented, a completely helpless, chained prisoner, by the Lady Yanina to her

  ubar, Belnar of Brundisium.

  “In this trunk, sacked and shackled, at our mercy, lies an enemy of Brundisium,

  an arrogant fellow who dared to displease our throne, a captain and slaver of

  Port Kar, one of whom you hay have heard, the supposedly mighty, and redoubtable

  Bosk of Port Kar!” called out Belnar.

  At this point there were applause and shouts of encouragement.

  “Taken by the Lady Yanina!” cried out Belnar.

  Here there was laughter, and more applause.

  “After, it might be mentioned,” added Belnar, “he managed somehow to escape from

  others.” At this point Belnar cast a good-humored glance at Flaminius. Flaminius

  smiled wryly, accommodatingly. There was laughter. His right fist clenched. To

  be sure, this was to be an evening of triumph for the Lady Yanina. Her conquest

  this night was not to be merely over me, a fellow named Bosk, merely a fellow

  from another city, but more importantly, I gathered, over Flaminius, her rival,

  as well. I recalled her words to me earlier, in the camp of Boots Tarsk-Bit.

  “Because of you,” she had said, “my fortunes will be made in Brundisium. Because

  of you I will climb there to hitherto

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  undreamed of heights.” I still could not understand my importance to those in

  Brundisium.

  “I am pleased with the Lady Yanina,” called Belnar to the crowd.

  There was applause.

  “It is my intention to reward her richly,” said Belnar. “She will know my

  generosity. She will be rewarded in gold, in power, in privilege and position!”

  “Belnar the Generous!” called out courtiers. “Belnar the Great!” cried others.

  Belnar lowered his head modestly, waving his hand in a half-hearted plea for

  order. Much applause, too, greeted his assertions. Many of those present stood,

  applauding and calling out their congratulatory remarks. Courtiers, I gathered,

  might be quick to commend generosity on the part of their superiors. Flaminius,

  I noted, did not join in this acclaim. As generous as Belnar might be with those

  who served him well, I did not doubt but what he might be correspondingly

  merciless with those who did not succeed in pleasing him.

  “I wish only,” said Belnar, “that the Lady Yanina was here, that she might be

  present on this night of her triumph.”

  There were again sympathetic noises from the crowd. Most of those present,

  however, I think, were probably just as well pleased that the Lady Yanina was

  not in evidence. She was, after all, in a sense, one courtier among the others,

  and thus, in a sense, was doubtless in rivalry with many of them, not just

  Flaminius. It is one thing to praise the generosity of a ubar and quite another

  to be genuinely enthusiastic over the exaltation and promotion of a possible

  competitor. Too, Belnar was obviously enjoying himself. Had the Lady Yanina been

  at his table, he would have had to share this moment of triumph, the absence of

  which eventuality, despite his apparent desires and protestations, it might be

  suspected he did not regret.

  “Let the trunk be opened!” called out Belnar. “Let Bosk of Port Kar, helpless

  and a fool, taken by the Lady Yanina, be displayed for our amusement!”

  Two soldiers went to the trunk. Its key hung on the outside of it. One of them

  thrust the key into the first lock. “Hurry, Lads!” called Belnar. Then the key

  went into the second lock. In a moment the heavy lid was freed and lifted. Men

  stood up, to see better. Within the trunk there was a sack. It was a large sack.

  It was of stout, heavy leather. Something was in it. It was tied shut at the

  top. “Make haste, Lads!” called Belnar. “We’re waiting!” The soldiers lifted the

  sack. It now stood upright within the trunk. Something was within the sack.

  There was no doubt about

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  that. But it did not seem large enough to be a man, let alone one such as Bosk

  of Port Kar. It was much too small, much too slight. Too, the captive’s body,

  even concealed within the confines of the sack, did not suggest the form of the

  male. There was clearly the hint of delicious curves. The soldiers looked at one

  another. Men exchanged glances. The hall was silent.

  “Open the sack,” said Belnar.

  Swiftly one of the soldiers tore away the knotting at the opening of the sack.

  This was not the same sack in which I had originally been placed, of course, but

  another, left in the trunk, which had been hidden beneath the first. The first

  sack had had a cunning opening concealed beneath a double seam, an opening

  through which a performer might exit or enter, as he pleased. The second sack,

  on the other hand, was a common slave sack, of a sort commonly used on Gor for

  the transport, security and punishment of slaves. It was stout enough to hold a

  strong male. The tenant’s occupancy in such a device, incidentally, as the

  tenant, bound and gagged, soon comes to realize, is going to be determined not

  by his own efforts, but rather, purely, by the convenience, and pleasure, of

  others.

  “Hurry!â€
 cried Belnar.

  The soldiers tore open the sack and pulled it down from the head and shoulders

  of its occupant. The occupant was hooded. “It is a female,” said a man. The sack

  was then thrust down about her hips. She was naked. she threw her head back in

  the hood. Her hands jerked wildly at the slave bracelets that confined her

  wrists behind her back. She did not wear the heavy trick manacles, seemingly

  suitable for men, in which I had been placed earlier in Boots’s camp. I had shed

  them moments after being placed in the first sack. Rather she wore ordinary

  slave bracelets, which would serve their purpose well, that of confining

  females. They were, however, I though, rather attractive. I had picked them out

  before leaving Boots’s camp. She also wore, though they could not now be seen,

  as she stood in the trunk, a set of linked ankle rings. These, too, were not

  portions of Boots’s props but practical custodial hardware, rings of a sort

  common on Gor for the chaining of women, generally slaves.

  “Who has put a slave in this trunk?” cried Belnar, in fury. “What joke is this!”

  “Where is Bosk of Port Kar?” asked a man.

  “Unhood the slave!” cried Belnar.

  “I see no brand on her,” called one of the soldiers to Belnar. He had just

  thrust the sack down from her hips, and turned her roughly from side to side,

  examining her thighs for brands.

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  “Unhood her!” screamed Belnar.

  The sack was now down about her knees. She was held upright by one of the

  soldiers. The other fumbled with the straps to her hood, loosening the buckles

  under her chin.

  “Hurry!” screamed Belnar.

  The trunk on the stage was the same one in which I had been placed originally in

  Boots’s camp. However, I had made certain adjustments in it. The back and

  bottom, either of which may open from the inside or outside, depending on

  whether a wall panel or a floor trap is to utilized in the escape, I had closed

  with bolts. In this fashion the trunk becomes, for most practical purposes, a

  normal trunk. This is useful not only when it serves normal purposes of storage

  and transport, but also, of course, when it is submitted for the inspection of

  members of an audience. After the inspection it is easy enough, in seeming to do