Swordsmen of Gor (52 page)

Licinius groaned.

“One is tied on the cross, closely,” said Tajima. “It is hard to move. Thus, in even a short time there arises from within the constricted muscles a great deal of pain, even agony. Too, one languishes for two or three days, until one dies of the pain, or of dehydration. Sometimes one is given some fluid, that the agony may be prolonged.”

“The sword! The sword!” begged Licinius.

“Impalement would be a Gorean way,” I said to Tajima.

“That is barbarous,” said Tajima.

“True,” I said.

“Too, it would be too quick,” said Tajima.

“It can last a long time,” I said.

“Interesting,” said Tajima.

“Yes,” I said.

“The sword!” said Licinius.

“I have sent for
Ashigaru
,” said Tajima. “They will take the prisoner in charge, and, too, will conduct Saru to the central camp.”

The girl, freed of bonds, naked, in Lord Nishida’s collar, lying nearby, the stains of the stable still on her, turned to her side, uneasily, and whimpered.

She was recovering from the effects of the Tassa powder.

I had noted some activity on her part a few Ehn ago.

One normally recovers slowly from the effects of Tassa powder, at least for a few minutes, and then one might, after a time, suddenly comprehending, awaken suddenly, hysterically, struggling, screaming, if one is not gagged. It is not uncommon for them to awaken in a stout, canvas slave sack, in which they can barely squirm, or bound hand and foot, say, on a carpet in an empty tent, or chained to a ring in the darkness. Such awakenings, too, may characterize Earth girls brought to Gor for the markets, as they are commonly sedated in tiered slave capsules for the journey from Earth to Gor. Many are even unaware of their journey, having perhaps been sedated in their own beds and then transported to Gor unconscious, only to awaken later in the pens, sometimes to the stroke of a slaver’s lash.

Saru now had her hands under her, and lifted her body a little, and looked up at me.

“You are back now,” I said. “You are near the stable, in the camp.”

She looked at Licinius near her, bound. I do not know if she understood what, even in general, had happened. Presumably she would have thought Licinius had been intercepted, or overtaken. Then she went to her belly, her head turned toward us. I did not know if she were capable of kneeling now, as she might be unsteady from the effects of the drug.

“The water in the bota was drugged,” I said. “The tarn returned.”

“Are you all right?” asked Pertinax.

“Show no concern,” I snapped. “Do you not know what she is?”

Saru regarded me, frightened. She averted her eyes. I sensed she knew what she was, even if Pertinax, in his naivety, did not.

”
Nadu
!” said Tajima, sharply.

The girl struggled to
nadu
, kneeling back on her heels, her head up, her back straight, the palms of her hands down on her thighs. She did not make eye contact with any of the free men, but kept her gaze forward.

It is a beautiful position.

“Split your knees,” said Tajima.

“No!” said Pertinax.

“Now!” said Tajima.

The girl spread her knees.

“Wider!” said Tajima. She was, after all, a collar-girl.

The former Miss Wentworth complied, quickly, docilely, with Tajima’s command. She had learned obedience to men, slave obedience, in the stable, at the hands of the grooms.

“Please!” protested Pertinax.

“Stay as you are,” cautioned Tajima.

The slave remained in the adjusted
nadu
, as directed. It was a common form of
nadu
, one almost invariably expected of a particular sort of slave, the pleasure slave.

I had the sense she very much wanted to look to Pertinax, for whatever reason, perhaps to see how he might view her, as she was, as she had been positioned, but she did not dare to do so. In any event, she knew she was before him, in
nadu
.

“Whose prisoner am I?” asked Licinius.

“You are the prisoner of Lord Nishida,” said Tajima.

“No,” I said, “you are my prisoner.”

“Captain?” asked Tajima.

“My prisoner,” I said.

”
Ashigaru
will soon be here,” said Tajima.

“Saru, I understand,” I said, “is finished in the stable.
Ashigaru
will call for her, see that she is cleaned up, and conduct her to Lord Nishida.”

“Yes,” said Tajima.

“You have learned the lessons of the stable, I trust,” I said to the slave.

“Yes, Master,” she whispered.

“Do you wish to be returned to the stable?”

“No, Master!” she said softly, quickly.

“You will learn to wear tunics, and silks, and bangles,” I said. “You will be taught to kneel and move. You may be perfumed and painted. You will be taught to please men. You will learn something of slave dance, and of the kisses of slaves. You will learn the use of your fingers, your hair, and tongue.”

“Yes, Master,” she said, shuddering.

“If you do poorly,” I said, “you will be slain.”

“Yes, Master,” she whispered.

“The wholeness of your life,” I said, “and your meaning, the fullness of it, all of it, and the very reason for your existence, and the only reason for your existence, is now to be a pleasure object for masters. You are an animal, and a property, only that, nothing more. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You will now exist for, and only for, the service and pleasure of men. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“Do you understand why?” I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I am a slave, Master,” she said.

I turned to the prisoner. “Licinius Lysias,” said I.

“Please, the sword!” he begged.

“You did not slay the slave,” I said.

“I would have,” he said, “had you not supplied my needs.”

“Of course,” I said, “but you did not do so.”

“Is she so important?” asked Licinius.

“Not at all,” I said, “but she is pretty, is she not?”

“Yes,” he said.

“We are pleased to recover the goods,” I said, regarding the slave.

“Perhaps then,” said Licinius, hopefully, “the sword?”

“It must take great courage to spy here, in such a camp,” I said.

“I was well paid,” he said.

“I think you are very brave,” I said.

“I wagered, I lost,” he said.

“I think,” I said, “you are an excellent swordsman.” I recalled the fellows in the stable, his own cohorts, whom I had set to secure him, one struck by a quarrel, but three felled by steel. The skills involved in such a display are rare. It is difficult for even a fine swordsman to defend himself against even two assailants, for one need only engage, setting the target, so to speak, and the other strike. I would not, comfortably, have set Tajima against him, who was skilled, as I had determined in the
dojo
. And I certainly would not, at his present level of training, have allowed him to engage Pertinax, certainly not singly.

“I would not have cared to conduct the dialogue in steel with Bosk of Port Kar,” he said.

It seemed he knew me.

I did not acknowledge this.

Tajima looked at me, puzzled. He had heard me referred to as Bosk of Port Kar, in the pavilion of Lord Nishida, but he knew me, primarily, surely, as Tarl Cabot, a tarnsman. I gathered he knew little or nothing of Bosk of Port Kar, or of the port itself.

“I accorded you an opportunity,” I said, “to come forth from the stable, disarmed, and depart in peace.”

“Surely it was a ruse,” he said.

“But you did not come forth,” I said.

“It seems the slave has value, after all,” he smiled.

“Every pretty slave has value,” I said. “This one might be worth as much as a silver tarsk.”

A tremor coursed the body of the slave. A man was conjecturing what might be her sales price, what might bring her into the hands of anyone, anyone whomsoever, who possessed the requisite coin or coins.

“Two,” suggested Licinius.

There are few things which so convince a woman that she is a slave, as to hear her value candidly discussed, in terms of prices, markets, and such. She then has a better sense of what she is worth, as what she is, as a collar property, to masters. A free woman, of course, is priceless, and thus, in a sense, without value. A slave, on the other hand, is not priceless, and thus has an actual value, a particular value, usually what men will pay for her. Slave girls, in their vanity, for they, as other women, are vain creatures, often compete on the slave block, each trying to bring a price higher than the others. Also, of course, there is a supposition that the higher the price the wealthier the master, and thus, hopefully, the easier and more comfortable will be the girl’s bondage. On the other hand, it is not unoften the case that the girl so purchased will find herself expected to do the work of, and supply the pleasure of, several slaves. It is not unusual, too, when a slave is introduced into a house, no matter what her purchase price may have been, that she will be bound and whipped, this to let her know that in that house she is truly a slave, and no more than a slave. Often, interestingly, the plainer girls purchased by the less well-fixed masters enjoy a bondage which, though strict and absolutely uncompromising, as is the Gorean way, might be the envy of many slaves who went for higher prices. The slave is grateful for the master, and the master is grateful for the slave. The relationship of female slave and male master, though one established, sanctioned, and enforced by law, is founded obviously on one common in nature, that of, so to speak, the conquered, possessed female and the conquering, possessing male. Indeed, legal bondage is an institutionalization of, and an enhancement of, a natural relationship, the male who, in a very real sense, owns, and the female who, in a very real sense, is owned, as much as a bow or spear. The rightfulness and naturalness of the relationship, so sanctioned by nature, and a thousand generations of selection, often leads to love. It is not unknown, accordingly, for a master and slave to discover, one day, and often sooner than later, that they are in love, that they are now love master and love slave. Let him beware now that he does not become easy with his girl. Indeed, she does not wish that, for her love for him is that of a slave.

“Surely you were not serious, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima. “This man would have slain Lord Nishida, he fled, he brought foes to our camp, he is a spy, he fought against us!”

“You would have permitted me to depart?” said Licinius.

“Yes,” I said.

“Surely not!” exclaimed Tajima.

“If so,” said Licinius, “I beg the sword, its quickness, its mercy!”

“No,” said Tajima.

“Will the knife do?” I asked Licinius.

“Surely!” he cried, gratefully.

“Never!” said Tajima. “What are you doing?” he said.

I had slashed away the straps binding the ankles of Licinius, and he struggled to his feet.

“Into the trees,” I instructed him, indicating the direction.

Gratefully he turned, stumbling toward the woods.

“Wait for the
Ashigaru
,” said Tajima.

“I dislike ugly deaths,” I said to him.

“Tajima’s hand was on the hilt of his gently curved sword.

“Would you draw against me?” I asked.

“No,” said Tajima. He removed his hand from the hilt of the sword.

I knew he did not fear to do so, even though he were newer to the roads of war than I. I was pleased he was unwilling to do so. How mighty, I thought, are the bonds of friendship. How sturdy stands, too, the banner of honor, even in the tempest, even on trembling ground.

“I must report this to Lord Nishida,” said Tajima.

“I know,” I said.

“Make it last,” said Tajima. “Let it be a thousand cuts. Perhaps Lord Nishida will be satisfied.”

“It is I who must be satisfied,” I said.

“He is your prisoner,” granted Tajima.

I then, the knife still in hand, followed Licinius into the darkness of the woods. He had not run, but was waiting for me.

“Thank you, Warrior,” he said. “Be swift, if you would.”

“You are unarmed,” I informed him. “You are far from villages, even huts. And you know not their locations, or your directions. There are larls in the woods but, hopefully, they are now well fed, and sleeping. You are without weapons and supplies. Many are the dangers in the forest. I do not expect you to survive.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, wonderingly.

“I am cutting you free,” I said.

“Free?” he whispered.

“Others will think you slain in the woods,” I said. “By the time they search for a body, you should be well away.”

He moved his arms, and rubbed his wrists.

“You would have let me depart in peace?” he said. “Truly?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Why?” he asked.

“I gave you my word,” I said.

“I do not understand,” he said.

“It is called honor,” I said. “Now, begone, quickly!”

“I will survive,” he said.

“Perhaps,” I said.

He then turned and disappeared into the darkness, between the trees.

In a few moments I had returned to Tajima, Pertinax, and the slave.

“Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima, “your knife is not bloody.”

“It seems not,” I said, and sheathed it.

“Perhaps you broke his back or neck, or strangled him,” said Tajima.

“Perhaps,” I said.

“I will send
Ashigaru
to recover the body,” he said.

“Have them wait until morning,” I said.

“Lord Nishida will not be pleased,” said Tajima.

“Have them wait until morning,” I said.

“Very well, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima.

I then turned to the slave, who was still kneeling, slimly erect, hands down on thighs, head up, in
nadu
. She had not been given permission to break position.

“You were spared,” I said to her. “You could have had your throat cut, and been thrust from the saddle to the forests below, shortly after the flight had begun, as soon as it became clear there was no obvious pursuit. You were extra weight for the tarn to carry and would thus reduce its speed and shorten its range.”