Nomads of Gor (75 page)

 
compound What then would be her fate? Moreover, I re

 
minded myself of my work, and that a warrior cannot well

 
encumber himself with a woman, particularly not a free

 
woman. His companion, as it is said, is peril and steel. I was

 
sad. It would have been better, I told myself, if Kamchak

 
had not given me the girl.

 
My reflections were interrupted by the girl's voice. "I'm

 
surprised," she said, "that Kamchak did not sell me."

  
"Perhaps he should have," I said.

 
She smiled. "Perhaps," she admitted. She took another sip

 
of wine. "Tarl Cabot," she said

  
"Yes," I said.

  
"Why did Kamchak not sell me?"

  
"I do not know," I said.

  
"Why did he give me to you?" she asked.

  
"I am not truly sure," I said.

   
I wondered indeed that Kamchak had given the girl to me.
  
;

 
 
There were many things that seemed to me puzzling, and I

 
thought of Gor, and of Kamchak, and the ways of the

         
Tuchuks, so different from those native to Miss Cardwell and

         
myself.

         
I wondered why it was that Kamchak had put the ring on

         
this girl, had had her branded and collared and clad Kajir

         
was it truly because she had angered him, running from the

         
wagon that one time or for another reason and why had

         
he subjected her, cruelly perhaps, in my presence to the

         
Slaver's Caress? I had thought he cared for the girl. And then

         
he had given her to me, when there might have been other

         
commanders. He had said he was fond of her. And I knew

         
him to be my friend. Why had he done this, truly? For me? l

         
Or for her, as well? If so, why? For what reason?

         
Elizabeth had now finished her wine. She had arisen and

         
rinsed out the bowl and replaced it. She was now kneeling at ~

         
the back of the wagon and had untied the Koora and shaken l

         
her hair loose. She was looking at herself in the mirror,

         
holding her head this way and that. I was amused. She was

         
seeing how the nose ring might be displayed to most advan

         
sage. Then she began to comb her long dark hair, kneeling

         
very straight as would a Gorean girl. Kamchak had never

         
permitted her to cut her hair. Now that she was free I

         
supposed she would soon shorten it. I would regret that. I

         
have always found long hair beautiful on a woman.

         
I watched her combing her hair. Then she had put the

         
comb aside and had retied the Koora, binding back her hair.

         
Now she was again studying her image in the bronze mirror,

         
moving her head slightly.

         
Suddenly I thought I understood Kamchak! He had indeed

         
been fond of the girl!

           
"Elizabeth," I said.

  
         
"Yes," she said, putting the mirror down.

         
"I think I know why Kamchak gave you to me aside

         
from the fact that I suppose he thought I could use a prettier

         
wench about the wagon."

           
She smiled.

           
"I am glad he did," she said.

           
"Oh?" I asked.

         
She smiled. She looked into the mirror. "Of course," she

         
said, "who else would have been fool enough to free me?"

           
"Of course," I admitted.

           
I said nothing for a time.

         
The girl put down the mirror. "Why do you think he did?.

         
she asked, facing me, curious.

 
"On Gor," I said, "the myths have it that only the woman

 
who has been an utter slave can be truly free."

 
"I am not sure," she said, "that I understand the meaning

 
of that."

 
"It has nothing to do, I think," I said, "with what woman

 
is actually slave or free, has little to do with the simplicity of

 
chains or the collar, or the brand."

  
"Then what?" she asked.

 
"It means, I think," I said, "that only the woman who has

 
utterly surrendered and can utterly surrender losing her-

 
self in a man's touch can be truly a woman, and being what

 
she is, is then free."

 
Elizabeth smiled. "I do not accept that theory," she re-

 
marked. "I am free now."

  
"I am not talking about chains and collars," I said.

  
"It is a silly theory," she said.

  
I looked down. "I suppose so," I said.

 
"I would have little respect for the woman," said Elizabeth

 
Cardwell, "who could utterly surrender to a man."

  
"I thought not," I said.

 
Abdomen," said Elizabeth, "are persons surely as much as

 
men and their equals."

  
"I think we are talking about different things," I said.

  
"Perhaps," she said.

 
"On our world," I said, "there is much talk of persons -

 
and little of men and women and the men are taught that

 
they must not be men and the women are taught that they

 
must not be women."

  
"Nonsense," said Elizabeth. "That is nonsense"

 
'I do not speak of the words that are used, or how men of

 
Barth would speak of these things," I said, "but of what is

 
not spoken of what is implicit perhaps in what is said and

 
taught.

 
"But what," I asked, "if the laws of nature and of human

 
blood were more basic, more primitive and essential than the

 
conventions and teachings of society what if these old

 
secrets and truths, if truths they be, had been concealed or

 
forgotten, or subverted to the requirements of a society con-

 
ceived in terms of interchangeable labor units, each assigned

 
id functional, technical sexless skills?"

  
"Really!" said Elizabeth.

  
"What do you think would be the result?" I asked.

  
"I'm sure I don't know," she said.

  
"Our Earth," I suggested.

        
'Women," said Miss Cardwell, "do not wish to submit to

        
men, to be dominated, to be brutalized."

          
"We are speaking of different things," I said.

          
"Perhaps," she admitted.

        
"There is no freer nor higher nor more beautiful woman,"

        
I said, "than the Gorean Free Companion. Compare her with

        
your average wife of Earth."

        
"The Tuchuk women," said Elizabeth, "have a miserable

        
lot."

        
"Few of them," I said, "would be regarded in the cities as

 
       
a Free Companion."

        
"I have never known a woman who was a Free Compan-

        
ion," said Elizabeth.

          
I was silent, and sad, for I had known one such.

        
"You are perhaps right," I said, "but throughout the mam

        
mats it seems that there is one whose nature it is to possess

        
and one whose nature it is to be possessed."

        
"I am not accustomed to thinking of myself," smiled Eliza

        
teeth, "as a mammal."

        
"What do you think of yourself as," I asked, "biologically?"

          
"Well," she smiled, "if you wish to put it that way."

        
I pounded the floor of the wagon and Elizabeth jumped.

        
"That," I said, "is the way it is!"

          
"Nonsense," said she.

        
"The Goreans recognize," I said, "that this truth is hard

        
for women to understand, that they will reject it, that they

        
will fear it and fight it."

          
"Because," said Elizabeth, "it is not true."

        
"You think," I said, "that I am saying that a woman is

        
nothing that is not it, I am saying she is marvelous, but

        
that she becomes truly herself and magnificent only after the

        
surrenders of love."

          
'Silly!" said Elizabeth.

        
'That is why," I remarked, "that upon this barbaric world

        
the woman who cannot surrender herself is upon occasion

        
simply conquered."

          
-Elizabeth threw back her head and laughed merrily.

         
"Yes," I smiled, "her surrender is won often by a master

         
who will be satisfied with no less."

         
"And what happens to these women afterwards?" asked

         
Elizabeth.

         
"They may wear chains or they may not," I said, "but they

         
are whole they are female."

 
'No man," said Elizabeth, "including you, my dear Tarl

 
Cabot, could bring me to such a pass."

 
"The Gorean myths have it," I said, "that the woman longs

 
for this identity to be herself in being his if only for the

 
moment of paradox in which she is slave and thus Freed."

 
"It is all very silly," said Elizabeth.

 
"It is further said that the woman longs for this to happen

 
to her, but does not know it."

 
"That is the silliest of all!" laughed Elizabeth.

 
"Why," I asked, "did you earlier stand before me as a

 
slave girl if you did not, for the moment, wish to be a