Authors: John Norman
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Adventure, #Erotica, #Fantasy Fiction; American, #Gor (Imaginary Place), #Outer Space, #Slaves
"Why," asked Cernus, breaking into my reverie, "did not Warriors of Ko-ro-ba come to Ar, to search out the killer?"
"It was not an act of war," said I. "Further," I pointed out, "now that Kazrak of Port Kar is no longer Administrator of Ar it seemed unlikely that Ar would welcome Koroban Warriors within her walls."
"It is true," said one of the men-at-arms.
"Do you know the name of the man whom you seek?" asked Cernus.
"I have only this," I said, drawing forth from my belt the wrinkled patch of green cloth.
"It is a faction patch," said Cernus. "There are thousands of such in Ar."
"It is all I have," I said.
"This house itself," said Cernus, "is allied with the faction of the Greens, as certain other houses, and various of the establishments of the city, are associated with other factions."
"I know," I said, "that the House of Cernus is allied with the Greens."
"I now see," said Cernus, "that there is more reason than I suspected in your desire to rent your sword in this house."
"Yes," said I, "for all I know, the man I seek may be of this house."
"It is unlikely though," said Cernus, "for those who favor the Greens are numbered in the thousands and come from all castes of Gor. The Administrator of Ar himself, and the High Initiate, are partisans of the green."
I shrugged.
"But you are welcome in this house," said Cernus. "As you presumably know these are difficult times in Ar, and a good sword is a good investment, and steel in these days is upon occasion more valuable than gold."
I nodded.
"I will upon occasion," said Cernus, "have commissions for you." He looked down on me. "But for the time," he said, "it is valuable for me simply for it to be known that your sword is in this house."
"I await your commands," I said.
"You will be shown to your quarters," said Cernus, gesturing to a nearby man-at-arms.
"Incidentally," said he, "Killer."
I turned to face him.
"It is known to me that in the tavern of Spinduis, you slew four Warriors of the House of Portus."
I said nothing.
"Four pieces of gold," said Cernus, "double tarns, will be sent to your rooms."
I nodded my head.
"Also," said Cernus, "it is understood by me that you picked up one of my girls on the street."
I tensed slightly, my hand dropping to the hilt of the short sword.
"What was her number?" Cernus was asking Caprus, who stood near him.
"74673," said the Scribe. I had anticipated that there would be some mention of Vella, for it was unlikely that Cernus would be unaware of my contact with her. Indeed, I had instructed her, when she had returned late to the House of Cernus, to bewail and protest what had theoretically happened to her in no uncertain terms. Accordingly, I was not surprised that the Scribe had her number ready for Cernus. Moreover, he probably knew it anyway, as she had been assigned to his staff, primarily to run errands in the city, for Caprus, it was said, seldom cared to leave the House of Cernus. I wished to be able to work closely with Vella in the House of Cernus. I was gambling on the unpleasant sense of humor not uncommonly found among slavers.
"Do you object?" I asked.
Cernus smiled. "Our Physicians ascertained," said he, "that she is only a Red Silk Girl."
"I scarcely supposed," said I, "that you would permit a White Silk Girl to go alone on the streets of Ar."
Cernus chuckled. "Indeed not," he said. "The risk is too much, sometimes as much as ten gold pieces." Then he leaned back. "74673," he said.
"The girl!" cried out the Scribe.
From a side entrance to the hall, where she had been kept, Elizabeth Cardwell, Vella, was thrust into the room. She was dressed as she had been when first I saw her near the great gate of Ar, barefoot, the yellow slave livery, the unbound dark hair, the yellow collar. She ran rapidly to a place before the stone platform, before the curule chair of Cernus, where she fell to her knees in the position of pleasure slave, head bowed. I was amused, for she had run as a slave girl is sometimes taught to run, with rapid short steps, her legs almost straight, her feet scarcely leaving the ground, back straight, head turned to the left, arms at her sides, palms out at a forty-five degree angle, more of a dancer's motion than a true run. Elizabeth, I knew, would hate that. I remembered her on the Plains of Turia, in the Land of the Wagon Peoples. There were few girls with her wind and stamina, her strength and vitality, few who could run at the stirrup of a Warrior as well as she. How offensive she must find some slave keeper's notion of the pretty hurrying of a slave girl.
"Lift your head, Girl," said Cernus.
She did so, and I gathered it was the first time she had actually looked on the face of the master of the House of Cernus. Her face was pale.
"How long have you been with us?" asked Cernus.
"Nine days, Master," said she.
"Do you like it here?" asked Cernus.
"Oh yes," she said, "Master."
"Do you know the penalty for lying?" asked Cernus.
Elizabeth, trembling, lowered her head to the floor and crossed her wrists under her, kneeling, as it is said, to the whip. One of Cernus' men-at-arms looked at him, to see if he wished him to secure her to one of the slave rings in the base of the platform for punishment.
Cernus, with a finger, indicated negativity.
"Lift you head, Slave," said Cernus.
Elizabeth did so.
"Remove your clothing," said Cernus.
Without a word Elizabeth did so, standing and pulling the loop at her left shoulder.
"You are very pretty, Little Slave," said Cernus.
"Thank you, Master," said the girl.
"What is you name?" asked Cernus.
"74673," she responded.
"No," said Cernus, "what name would you like to be called by?"
"Vella," said she, "if it pleases Master."
"It is a pretty name," he said.
She dropped her head.
"I see," said Cernus, "that you wear the brand of the four bosk horns."
"Yes," she said.
"Kassar," he said, "isn't it?"
"No, Master," said she, "Tuchuk."
"But where is the ring?" he asked. Tuchuk women, both slave and free, have fixed in their noses a tiny ring of gold, small and fine, not unlike the wedding rings of Earth. The ponderous bosk, on which the Wagon Peoples live, among which are numbered the Kassars and the Tuchuks, also wear such rings, but there, of course, the ring is much larger and heavier.
"My last master," said she, "Clark of the House of Clark in Thentis, removed it."
"He is a fool," said Cernus. "Such a ring is marvelous. It bespeaks the barbarian, the promise of pleasures so wild and fierce a man of the cities could scarcely conceive of them."
Elizabeth said nothing.
"I had a Tuchuk girl once," said Cernus, "a wild girl of the wagons, of whom I was fond, but when she tried to kill me, I strangled her in the chain of the House of Cernus." He fingered the chain and medallion about his neck.
"I am not truly Tuchuk," said Elizabeth. "I am only a girl from the islands north of Cos, taken by pirates of Port Kar, sold to a tarnsman, carried to and sold again in the city of Turia, and hence for twenty boskhides traded to the Tuchuks, where I was ringed and branded."
"How came you to Thentis?" asked Cernus.
"Kassars raided Tuchuk wagons," she said. "I was abducted, later sold to Turians." She spoke numbly. "I was later sold in Tor," she said, "far to the north of Turia. A year later, by slave wagon, I reached the fair of Se'Var near the Sardar, where I was sold to the House of Clark, from which house I and many others were fortunate enough to be purchased by the House of Cernus, in Glorious Ar."
Cernus leaned back again, seemingly satisfied.
"But without the ring," said he, "no one will believe the brand of the four bosk horns." He smiled. "You will be regarded, my dear, as inauthentic."
"I am sorry," said Elizabeth, her head down.
"I will have a smith replace the ring," he said.
"As master wishes," she said.
"I will not hurt much the second time," said Cernus.
Elizabeth said nothing.
Cernus turned to Caprus, who stood near him. "Is she trained?" he asked.
"No," said Caprus. "She is Red Silk but she knows almost nothing."
"Slave," said Cernus.
"Yes, Master," said Elizabeth.
"Stand straight and place your hands behind your head, head back."
She did so.
"Turn slowly," ordered Cernus.
When Elizabeth had done so once, she remained standing before him, as he had commanded.
Cernus turned to Caprus. "Was she touched by the leather?" he inquired.
"The Physician Flaminius conducted the test," reported Caprus. "She was superb."
"Excellent," said Cernus. "You may lower your arms," he said to the girl.
She did so, and stood there, standing before him, her head down.
"Let her be fully trained," said Cernus to Caprus.
"Fully?" asked Caprus.
"Yes," said Cernus, "fully."
Elizabeth looked at him, startled.
I had not counted on this, nor had Elizabeth. On the other hand, there seemed to be little that could be done about it. The training, exhaustive and detailed, I knew would take months. On the other hand it would be done presumably in the House of Cernus. Further, such training, though spread over a period of months, normally consumes only about five of the Gorean hours daily, that the girls have time to rest, to absorb their lessons, to recreate themselves in the pools and gardens of the house. During this time, since Elizabeth was nominally of the staff of Caprus, we could surely find time to be about our work, for which purpose we had arranged to enter the House of Cernus.
"Are you not grateful?" inquired Cernus, puzzled.
Elizabeth dropped to her knees, head down. "I am unworthy of so great an honor, Master," said she.
Then Cernus pointed to me, indicating that the girl should turn.
Elizabeth did so, and suddenly, superbly, she threw her arm before her mouth and cried out, as though just seeing me for the first time, and remembering me with horror. She was marvelous.
"It is he!" she cried, shuddering.
"Who?" inquired Cernus, innocently.
I then began to suspect that my gamble, based on the often unpleasant sense of humor common among slavers, might begin to bear fruit.
Elizabeth had her head down to the stone floor. "Please, Master!" she wept. "It is he, the Assassin, who forced me in the streets to accompany him to the tavern of Spindius! Protect me, Master! Please, Master! Protect me, Master!"
"Is this the slave," asked Cernus sternly, "whom you forced to accompany you to the tavern of Spindius?"
"I think she is the one," I admitted.
"Hateful beast!" wept Elizabeth.
"You are only a poor little slave," said Cernus. "Was he cruel to you?"
"Yes," she cried, her eyes gleaming. "Yes!"
Elizabeth, I had to admit, was a really remarkable actress. She was an extremely intelligent and talented girl, as well as beautiful. I hoped she would not be too successful in her exhibition or I might end up bubbling in a vat of boiling tharlarion oil.
"Would you like me to punish him, for you?" asked Cernus, kindly.
Elizabeth threw him a look of incredible gratitude, her eyes wide with tears, her mouth trembling. "Yes!" she wept. "Please, oh Master! Punish him! Punish him!"
"Very well," said Cernus, "I will punish him by sending to his quarters an untrained slave girl."
"Master?" she asked.
Cernus turned to Caprus. "When she is not in training, 74673 will keep the quarters of the Assassin."
Caprus noted this with his stylus on his tablet.
"No!" howled Elizabeth. "Please Master! No! No!"
"Perhaps," said Cernus, "if your training proceeds rapidly and favorably you may, after some months, find other quarters."
Elizabeth collapsed weeping before the stone platform.
"Let that be an incentive to be diligent, Little Slave," said Cernus.
I threw back my head and laughed, and Cernus threw back his head and laughed, pounding on the arms of the curule chair, and the men-at-arms, too, roared with laughter. Then I turned and followed a man-at-arms, who would lead me to my quarters.
5 - IN THE HOUSE OF CERNUS
Kneeling back on her heels in my quarters, in the traditional fashion of Gorean women, Elizabeth laughed merrily and slapped her knees, so pleased was she.
I, too, was pleased.
"How smoothly it has all gone!" she laughed. "And poor Vella, who must keep the quarters of the Assassin! Poor, poor Vella!"