Conspirators of Gor (85 page)

I regarded him disbelievingly, he facing away from me.

Tears sprang to my eyes.

I was then acutely conscious of my camisk, of the collar on my neck, the mark borne by my thigh.

I was a slave!

One does not thank a slave. Would one thank an animal?

I had done, in effect, what I had been expected to do, what, in effect, I had been instructed to do. I had, in effect, obeyed. One does not thank a slave for obeying. It is what she must do.

How conscious I was then of my bondage!

Indeed, it can be frightening for a slave to be thanked. What might it mean? Is it a warning, a criticism, that she is behaving too much like a free woman, who would expect to be thanked? Is it a trick? Is he thinking of her in terms of close chains, or the slave whip? Is he thinking of selling her? Has she already been sold, or given away?

“Master,” I said, softly, “may I speak?”

Grendel turned to face me. “Yes,” he said.

“What occurred may have been seen from the portal,” I said. “It may be supposed that the guards took you into the mountains, but, in time, when they do not return, an investigation will be made. There will be a search, a pursuit in force. You must flee.”

“I have not finished my work,” he said. “There is more to do.”

“There is nothing you can do,” I said. “They will hunt you down. They are merciless. You must flee.”

“What of you?” he asked.

“I am freezing,” I said. “I am half lame.”

“We will build a fire,” he said.

“You must not,” I said. “Smoke will be seen. You must flee!”

“When they come to the fire,” he said. “We will be gone.”

“The fire,” I said, “will be a distraction?”

“There will be a better,” he said.

“Master?” I said.

“After dark,” he said, “you will go by the portal, but keep against the wall, to the right, where you will not be seen. Then, when it is opportune, slip into the Cave.”

“How will I know when it is opportune?” I said. “There are guards, Kur guards.”

“It will be clear,” he said. “The matter will be arranged by our friend, Tiresias.”

“You must flee, both of you,” I said.

“We will hide,” he said.

“Where?” I asked.

“Where,” said he, “they will not look.”

“Flee!” I begged him.

“I have work to do,” he said.

I saw Tiresias approach, some short, gnarled branches in his grasp, and some shrubbery, dirt still about the roots.

I also noted he was now in harness, as well.

Grendel fetched the ax of the second guard, and lifted that long-handled, double bladed, weighty weapon. He handled it as I might have wielded a stick.

“Master,” I called to him.

“Yes?” he said.

“Tiresias cannot understand us,” I said. “He has no translator.”

“So?” said Grendel.

“Did I not do well?” I asked.

“You did splendidly,” he said.

“Is Master not pleased?”

“I am pleased,” he said.

“Should I not be thanked?” I asked.

“Are you a free woman?” he said.

“No, Master,” I said.

“Are you a slave?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“Then you should not be thanked,” he said.

“I see,” I said.

“I am not sure you do,” he said.

“I do not understand,” I said.

“It is a kindness,” he said.

“I do not understand,” I said.

“It is a lesson,” he said. “It may save your life.”

“Master?” I said.

“The slave,” he said, “is not to be self-concerned, self-seeking, or self-interested. That is for the free woman. The free woman thinks of herself. The slave thinks of her master, and hopes to be found pleasing. The slave serves selflessly, surrendering herself wholly to the master. She belongs to him, as a tarsk or a sandal. She does not obey to be rewarded. She does not serve to be thanked. She is a slave. It is hers, his animal, to obey unquestioningly, immediately, thanklessly. It is what she is for.”

“Surely a master might throw her a candy, or give her a caress,” I said.

“Yes,” he said, “but such things are not owed to her. Rather, let her be grateful for any attention the master may give her.”

“I want to serve so,” I said, “helplessly, mastered!”

“On Gor,” he said, “you will have no choice but to serve so.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“So,” said he, “do you still wish to be thanked?”

“No, Master,” I said.

“But,” he said, “you would perhaps like to know that you have been found pleasing?”

“Oh, yes, Master!” I said.

He then put a great paw in my hair, and shook my head, affectionately, as one might the head of domestic sleen.

“You have been found pleasing,” he said.

“Thank you, Master,” I said.

“We will now light a fire,” he said. “You must be cold.”

“Thank you, Master,” I said.

“But you must understand,” he said, “that I am part Kur. A human master might not be so tolerant.”

“I understand,” I said.

“What do you think they buy women for?” he asked.

“To be slaves,” I said.

“And what sort of slaves?” he asked.

“Perfect slaves,” I said.

“Keep that in mind,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

Chapter Forty-Six

Much frustration, fury, and rage coursed through the corridors of the Cave.

Two Kurii, those assigned to execute the prisoner, Grendel, had disappeared. Later, their bodies and parts of bodies, for wandering animals had fed, were discovered near the ashes of an abandoned fire. It was then supposed that the prisoner, presumably somehow abetted, was in flight. Two axes were missing, and two sets of harnessing. A dozen armed search parties were dispatched, over a period of several days. Some of these smaller, more rapidly moving parties may have ranged a quarter of the way to the Aqueduct Road. Then, the winds rising, the chill blasts whistling amongst the mountains, the first scattering of snow hurrying betwixt the peaks, the parties had returned. No trail of the prisoner, or others, had been found. It was supposed then that the fugitives, ill-armed and ill-provisioned, perhaps lost and disoriented, had perished in the Voltai.

The night of the freeing of Grendel I had crept back to the vicinity of the great portal, and, in the darkness, waited on what, if one were facing inward to the portal, would be the right-hand side, my back close to the wall.

About the First Ahn I might have fled within the portal, even into the arms of guards, had it not been for the words of Grendel that the matter, my reentry into the Cave, would be arranged by Tiresias. And so I waited for the moment in which such an entry might be “opportune.” I think that is why I did not bolt inward when, some twenty yards from me, in the darkness, I sensed the movement of a large, sinuous body. Anything that large, moving in such a way, in this vicinity, could only be a larl. I recalled that such a beast had been in the neighborhood of that long, dangerous, winding passageway traversed by Tiresias when he, carrying me, was hurrying to its end, where it opened onto the broad, rocky slope. The beast had raised its head, and peered at us, over a shelf of rock. Tiresias had been aware of its presence, but had scarcely reacted. The larl had not followed us. I had conjectured that it was not hungry. Later, on the night of my reentry into the Cave, I became aware that some relationship existed between the two, although, at the time, I did not understand its nature. In any event, while I backed against the wall, fearing to move, the beast passed me, moving to my right, where it would, in effect, some yards out, cross the slope before the portal. It was scarcely across from the portal when an alarm rang out, and two Kurii, lifting lanterns, ran to the threshold of the portal. Almost at the same time another pair of Kurii, for the guard is doubled after dark, joined them, these carrying spears. In the light of the lanterns the eyes of the larl, catching the light, the body turned toward the portal in the darkness, blazed like tarn disks of gold. The two Kurii with lanterns began to swing them about, which cast startling, darting, awkward shadows on the slope. The two with spears brandished their weapons and stepped threateningly toward the larl, but did not, I noted, much leave the vicinity of the threshold. All four were shouting Kur at the larl. I heard others approaching, and, too, even the voices of kajirae. As attention was fastened on the larl I slipped about the corner of the portal, unnoticed, into the Cave, and, in an instant, was being embraced by Jane and Eve, and there were other kajirae about, too. One Kur, come to the portal, looked at me, and I was indistinguishable amongst others. Looking out, I saw that the larl, as though displeased, had padded away, into the darkness.

“We were afraid,” said Jane.

“You are trembling,” said Eve. “You are cold.”

“It is past locking time,” I said, apprehensively.

“Do not be concerned,” said Jane. “We have enlisted Chloe. See our thighs.”

“You have been claimed for the night?” I said.

“So it would seem,” said Eve.

“My thigh,” said Jane, “claims that I have been reserved this evening for Astrinax.”

“And mine that I have been spoken for by Lykos,” said Eve.

“Chloe!” whispered Jane, and Chloe approached.

“I will mark your thigh, barbarian,” said Chloe. “Whom shall I say has reserved you for the evening?”

“Desmond of Harfax,” I said.

* * * *

Following the revolt of Lucius, as I have mentioned, certain changes were effected in the routine of the Cave. Three of these were most noticeable to humans. First, there was a significant reduction in the displays, usually ceremonial, of the mysterious container which was commonly believed to contain a treasure, most likely of diamonds, but which was understood by some of us to be somehow relevant to the person of Agamemnon himself. Second, there was the disarming of the Cave’s humans, which muchly uneased the men. One wields a weapon or is subject to the weapons of another. Tyrants prefer disarmed subjects. It is a sensible first step in civil conquest. It is easier to rule verr than larls. Kajirae, of course, are not subject to weapons. They are subject to the whip. Third, security had been increased in the Cave, Kurii now guarding the great portal and patrolling the halls. The second and third of these alterations were oppressive enough, but, following the escape of Grendel, matters worsened. The movements of free humans and many Kurii were now as subject to scrutiny and supervision as those of slave girls. In many cases records were kept, permissions required, and reporting times noted. It was difficult to tell whether these impositions and restrictions were rationally justified in terms of intelligence available to Agamemnon and his inner circle or were the fruit of unproductive suspicions carried to the pitch of self-destructive madness. I supposed much had to do with the recollection of the revolt of Lucius, which had apparently been as unexpected by Agamemnon and his adherents as by the humans in the Cave. It was my speculation that Agamemnon, helpless and dependent in his metal housing, without a mobile, utilizable body, did not know whom he might trust, and to what extent. Lucius had been trusted, even taken by many to be first in the Cave. Who else might prove unfaithful? Who else in a secret heart might harbor treachery? His plans, as well, had been, if not seriously damaged, certainly delayed by what he presumably took as the defection of Grendel. Too, it was not known for certain that Grendel had perished in the Voltai. I supposed that a mind as mighty and ambitious as that of Agamemnon, filled with the visions of grandiose ventures, frustrated by its dependence and limitations, encountering reverses, balked in its projects, might incline to irrationality, might slip into madness.

In any event, it seemed clear that Desmond of Harfax’s small assemblage of determined men was at great risk. Any man who had been in that room for that meeting now stood in extreme peril. Too, how, under the obtaining conditions, could one proceed, how meet and plan? How could one contact others? Might not even something as seemingly innocent as a pack of cards be suspect? How could one recruit? Who, under these conditions, would join such a perilous enterprise? Two men, in earnest conversation, now attracted attention. Three might require an explanation. Unoccupied rooms were locked. What of records, accountings, and reporting times? How, thus, at present, could one gather and store clothing and supplies? How, thus, at present, could one organize an escape? But Pausanias had left several days before. And Gor must be warned. And the snows were imminent; soon looming winter would close the passes, the roads and gates, of the Voltai.

During the day we kajirae were worked; at night we were caged. No longer might our thighs be marked. Even I was uncomfortable, though my slave fires had not yet begun to rage in the manner of several of my chain sisters. From my own sensations, however, I could begin to suspect what men had done to them. Some began to moan in their cages at night. I knew from the house of Tenalion that it was common to deny sex to a slave girl for four or five days prior to her sale, that she might be presented to buyers in a more needful state. I had heard that some vended kajirae writhed on the block, begging to be purchased. Others needed be restrained by chain leashes, lest they leave the block, rushing to prostrate themselves before one fellow or another to be purchased, their lips pressed to his sandals or boots. Sometimes a proud girl would pretend to disdain, to aloofness, or frigidity, but the auctioneer, after permitting her to maintain for a time her posturing sham, puts his hands on her and she shortly thereafter, even protesting, squirming, and crying out, is revealed to the buyers, and to herself, as what she is, a female. Lying at the auctioneer’s feet, she listens to the bids on her. She now understands she is not the woman she took herself to be. She now understands that she is the sort of woman who belongs at a slave ring.