Conspirators of Gor (82 page)

“All that,” he said.

“What more?” I asked.

“There is nothing here,” he said, “pertaining to the destruction of Agamemnon.”

Chapter Forty-Two

As noted, Lucius, and some few cohorts, had, as yet, escaped apprehension. On the other hand, for most practical purposes, order had been restored in the Cave, and matters, with some exceptions, were much as they had been earlier, before the revolt. Three differences, or obvious differences, for I did not know what others might be being enacted privately, were that the container thought by some to be pertinent to the person of Agamemnon was now seldom publicly visible, the men in the Cave had been disarmed, even to knives, and policing in the Cave was assigned exclusively to Kurii, for example patrols in the halls, and the guards at the great portal.

Prior to the revolt I had often brought provender and drink to the guards at the great portal, at that time men, usually two in number. This task remained mine, though the nature of the guard had changed. It was one morning in the Seventh Passage Hand, I think the second day, shortly before the Ninth Ahn, that I approached the great portal. The day was bright. Sometimes, when Tor-tu-Gor was almost overhead, the slopes of the Voltai, beneath its blaze, seemed almost white, which anomaly, I took it, had to do with some aspect of reflected light. The shadows of the valleys and crevices then could seem like black wounds. I bore no tray now, but a yoke, from each terminus of which was slung a skin of water and a haunch of tarsk. It was heavy. My shoulders would ache. The feeding of Kurii often reminded me of the feeding of carnivores.

Sometimes, in discharging this errand, I would see Grendel returning from the outside. I knew he had the freedom to come and go, as he might wish. I did not understand the nature of these excursions, but I supposed they might be explicable in terms as obvious as escaping the tedium of the Cave, a zest for movement or fresh air, and perhaps even some light hunting. Grendel tended to enjoy open vistas and the sun; most Kurii, it seemed, felt more at ease in closed spaces and conditions of reduced light.

My yoke, with its burden of food and drink, was heavy, at least for me. I hoped I would not see Grendel returning from the outside.

One of the guards waved me forward, impatiently. He did not bother to use his translator, nor was there any need to do so. I tried to hurry, but not so much that I might fall. I was sure that would displease the beasts. What might be a simple cuff from a man might break my neck if it were delivered by a Kur. The yoke cut across my shoulders.

When I encountered Grendel, either in the vicinity of the portal, or in the large halls, I kept my head down, and pretended not to see him. I did not want our eyes to meet. Had they met I would have had to assume first obeisance position, and then hold that position until summoned, or he had passed. I do not know if he looked upon me, or not. I was helplessly and futilely angry with Grendel, whose faithlessness, and treachery, cruelty, and ambition, so shocking and dismaying me, had betrayed his friends, his principles, his honor, his allies, his brethren of a far world, Grendel who had used his cleverness to win greater prospects from the conspirators, Grendel who was willing to recruit allies on a far world to provision and support a war which might reduce, if not destroy, the humans of Gor, and perhaps, later, of another world, as well. Too, his pretense of loyalty to, if not affection for, the Lady Bina had been a sham. He cared no more for her than any other Kur, to whom humans might seem at best little more than temporarily useful vermin.

The guard waved me forward, again.

I did not want to fall. I could move only so quickly. The weights on the yoke swung. I feared to be pulled off balance.

Then I had come to the portal and the guard, with one hand, lifted the yoke from my shoulders, and flung it, and the suspended meat and skins of drink, to the table-like shelf at the right side of the portal.

I backed away a little.

I expected to receive back the yoke, with its hooks.

This morning something was different at the great portal. There were two guards, as usual, but, rather back and to the side, there were two other Kurii, each armed with one of the large, four-quarreled crossbows, which I had seen in the place of cells, weapons which a man could have hardly lifted, let alone load and accurately fire.

I did not think those two beasts could have been easily seen, from the outside. Certainly I did not understand their presence.

One of the guards lifted a haunch of tarsk and tore at it with his teeth. I saw a fang sunk deep into the meat, anchoring it, and then a huge piece was wrenched free, and the long, dark tongue wrapped itself about this, and thrust it back, into the toothed darkness, and, in a moment, I witnessed its passage, sliding downward, under the fur of the throat. Kurii were no more likely to chew food than a larl or sleen. It looked at me, while it was disposing of this gorge of meat. I supposed that a carnivore, in the wild, is likely to eat quickly, to eat while it can. Time might be lost in careful chewing. There appear to be compensations involved in this sort of thing. Such a piece of meat, even one much smaller, would choke a human; on the other hand, the structure of the human throat is such that it is capable of assisting in the utterance of a subtle and theoretically infinite variety of sounds. It seems thus that in nature an organ which may constitute a danger or increased hazard in one respect may in another respect confer a significant advantage.

I looked away from the feeding Kur.

Normally, particularly when humans had been at the portal, I had enjoyed lingering in its vicinity, to look outside, and draw in the fresh air. With the Kurii, on the other hand, I thought it best to withdraw as soon as it was practical. I was much aware that some Kurii looked upon humans as food.

I backed away a few more steps.

The haunches of tarsk freed from the yoke’s hooks, and the skins of drink put on the shelf, one of the guards picked up the yoke, and flung it over my head, behind me, several paces, to the side of the hall.

I supposed this was an act of contempt, like brushing aside a plate or dashing a tray to the floor, but I did not object. I preferred to retrieve the object at a distance from the Kur. The last time it had been extended to me, but, when I had grasped it, the beast had not released it, but had held it. I had feared to let it go. There was then, by means of the device, a fearsome connection between us. His eyes were upon me. I looked down, and saw his two six-digited, tentacle-like paws move a hort on the yoke, toward me, and then another hort. He was, bit by bit, moving closer to me. I then cried out in alarm, released the yoke, and fled back some paces, and then turned, to see him. He had put the yoke down before him, at his feet. He pointed to it. I must fetch it. Crouching down, watching him, I moved warily toward the yoke; when I had it in one hand, he made a sudden move toward me, and roared, and I went to my stomach, shrieking, covering my head with my hands. I feared I might have died. When I lifted my head he was turned away, conversing with his fellow. I had seized the yoke and crept away, and had then run down the hall, toward the kitchen where I had received the provender and drink. It had been, I gathered, a Kur joke.

I went to the side of the hall, back several paces from the portal, and retrieved the yoke.

Before returning to the kitchen, that from which I had received the provender and drink, I heard harsh Kur sounds, and spun about. Grendel was in the portal, and the two Kurii who carried the large crossbows had them trained upon him. I then saw the two guards roping Grendel’s arms to his body. Then, bound, he was brought down the hall. I knelt as they passed, Grendel preceding the two Kurii with crossbows, with their tiered firing guides. Our eyes met, but I could read no expression in that dark, broad countenance.

I did not understand what was occurring, other than the fact that Grendel had apparently fallen from favor.

Chapter Forty-Three

“All is lost,” said Desmond of Harfax.

“How so, Master?” I inquired.

“Grendel has been seized,” he said. “His execution has been arranged. He will be taken outside the Cave and killed, his body left for sleen and larls.”

“He is a traitor to our cause,” I said. “He was to have garnered remote support for the conquest of Gor.”

“You camisked, collared little fool,” he said. “It is from Grendel that we have learned of the conspiracy, its plans, and its projected ends. It is from Grendel that we learned of the kaissa sheets, and were supplied with the materials, the privacy, and time required to copy them. It was thanks to him that we came to a clearer understanding of the card codes, though he was not then clear as to how the messages were conveyed. Thanks to him, we later managed to adopt the very Kur device, the card codes, to our own purposes. We can order cards with subtle and clandestine intent as well as they. And the Kurii are, or were, unaware of our capacity to do so. Grendel supplied us regularly with information. It was he who was essentially behind our small counter-conspiracy. I was his factor. It was he who was my principal, communicating commonly through Astrinax.”

“Why Astrinax?” I asked.

“In order that he might the more closely monitor the condition and safety of the Lady Bina, for whom I suspect he would willingly die.”

I recalled that she had been placed largely in the keeping of Astrinax.

“He spoke to me,” I said. “He cited complacent treachery, greed, contempt for the Lady Bina.”

“And you, fool, believed him.”

“Yes!” I said.

“You belong in a collar,” he said.

“Not for such a reason,” I said.

“And you will be kept in one,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you belong in one,” he said. “Get on your belly!”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“You are unworthy to kiss my feet,” he said. “Kiss the floor before me.”

I obeyed. Also my thighs were heated. I felt helpless.

“How else could he obtain his release from his cell?” asked Desmond of Harfax. “How else could he secure the liberty to move about, to organize an opposition, to attempt to frustrate and oppose the dark schemes of Agamemnon?”

“I did not know,” I whispered.

“And it was well you did not,” he said. “Were you conscious of the duplicity you might well have ruined it, behaved suspiciously, gave some revealing sign that might have been noted by the adherents of Agamemnon.”

“Yes, Master,” I whispered.

“Things began to go badly several days ago,” said Desmond of Harfax. “Much of this had to do with the revolt of Lucius. Grendel refrained from participating in this small war, on either side. This displeased Agamemnon and his cohorts, who had naturally expected him to ally himself with them, to kill without question, and such. More seriously, Grendel refused to execute the Kurii of Lucius who availed themselves of the supposed amnesty. This aroused suspicion amongst the adherents of Agamemnon. Had it not been for his projected value as an influencing emissary to a steel world, he would doubtless have been immediately killed.”

“Why has he just now been taken?” I asked.

“I do not know,” said Desmond of Harfax. “Perhaps the patience of Agamemnon and his cohorts was finally exhausted.”

“I do not think so,” I said, “with so much at stake. Who but Grendel might plausibly, and with a better prospect of success, conduct Agamemnon’s embassy to a certain far world?”

“A certain far world?” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

“I have heard such talk,” he said. “Grendel himself has spoken in such a way.”

“You are skeptical?” I asked.

“There are things here which I find it hard to understand,” he said. Then he said, “Kneel up. I want to look at your eyes, slave.”

I obeyed immediately, as one obeys a Gorean master. I did not look forward to being under his scrutiny.

“Where is Earth?” he said.

“Master?” I said.

“Is it north of the Vosk?” he asked. “Is it east of the Barrens?”

I looked at him. Surely he knew Earth was another world. Did he not have access to the Second Knowledge? Perhaps he was indeed a Metal Worker, one of a lower caste, and had attained only to the First Knowledge. It is said there is a Third Knowledge, but that is reserved to Priest-Kings. He must know of other worlds. Had he not spoken of a steel world, one flung farther away than Tor-tu-Gor itself? Was he testing me, somehow? I supposed he might well not be aware of how such worlds might be reached.

“No,” I said.

“It is another world?” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

“You are not lying?” he said.

“No, Master,” I said.

“How did you come here?” he asked.

“I do not know,” I said. “I was rendered unconscious on my former world, and when I awakened I found myself on Gor, in a small, dark cell, naked and chained, hand and foot.”

“There was a ship?” he said.

“Doubtless,” I said.