Kur of Gor (82 page)

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There were four females on the personal neck rope of Cestiphon, all women of killer humans. These were Cestiphon's own women, as opposed to the women held in common by his group of killer humans. On that rope there were fourteen. Cestiphon was the leader of his group, which contained some twenty males. It was his group which had flushed the Lady Bina into the open, earlier, when she had been noted by Lord Grendel, Statius, and Cabot, in the vicinity of a womb tunnel.

Perhaps too close to them a small, concealed figure moved, timidly, slowly, trying to pass about them, its motion impeded by the shackles it wore on its slim ankles. It was bent over and clutched a sheet about itself with closely braceleted hands. The sheet was clutched in a such a way that the face was effectively hooded, the opening on the sheet sufficing for little more than a lowered head to survey the next patch of ground on which it might dare to tread.

One of the women of the killer humans sprang to her feet and snatched at the sheet but the small figure hastily, frightened, drew back. But the other women of the killer humans, on the rope, had sprung up, and encircled her.

In a moment the small figure had cried out in misery, the sheet ripped from her, and she knelt in the dirt, cowering, covering her face with her hands, that none could look upon its horror.

Beneath the sheet she had been as naked as the women of the killer humans.

The killer humans keep their women naked.

Surely this is not unusual for the women of primates.

One supposes the hostility of these women of killer humans was the natural hostility of one type of female toward another, say, one of a certain race, breed or group to that of another race, breed, or group, or perhaps it was something like that of the glorious free woman toward the degraded, vulnerable female slave. In any event, these women clearly did not understand that the Lady Bina, for it was she whom they had entrapped, was a free woman, or, more likely, they had no concept at all of a free woman. Too, it is certainly possible that they remembered her from the pursuit of her in the vicinity of the womb tunnel and recognized that she might have been captured and put on their rope, and might perhaps have been more favored of food and caresses than they. Indeed, they may have been aware of her earlier accosting by Cestiphon. But clearly there was little they had to fear from her now.

Two of the women pulled the Lady Bina's hands away from her face, and a third drew her head up by the hair.

They made gleeful noises, the leader pointing to her, and all spat upon her. Their leader danced and posed before her, exhibiting her superior attractions, and lifted and flung her hair about, indicating its sheen and length. And then the Lady Bina's captors pulled her to her feet, and turned her about, and about, displaying her to the camp, but the men turned away, disgusted, and the women shrieked and laughed the more. But then, suddenly, the switch, for he had now obtained such a device, useful for the control of women, of an angered Cestiphon fell amongst them, and they went to all fours, and cowered, sobbing under the blows. “Master!” begged their leader, now on her knees, trying to fend blows. “Master!” The killer humans, this group, were scarcely speeched, but the word for a male, any male, was “Master.” Similarly, their word for a female, any female, was “slave."

Cestiphon hooked the switch on his belt, where he was accustomed to keep it. He glowered at the neck-roped women of the killer humans. They cringed under his gaze, not daring to meet his eyes. The switch had done its work well, its supple, stinging slash, far better than its humble predecessor, the stick, which, less yielding, was more likely to damage a woman than punish and instruct her. The stick was a makeshift device, crude and barbarous; the switch was an artifact, a boon of civilization, a tested, refined, efficient implement, one explicitly and intelligently designed for the management and improvement of slaves. Cestiphon then picked up the sheet and threw it about the Lady Bina, who gratefully, with her small, closely braceleted hands, clutched it about her.

"Begone, beast, monster,” said Cestiphon, angrily, and the Lady Bina, sobbing, clutching the sheet about her, fighting her shackles, moved away, as swiftly as she could.

Men withdrew from her course.

Female slaves slipped back, and knelt, their heads to the dirt, that she might pass, unimpeded.

The Lady Bina was, you see, despite what might be her misfortunes or fate, a free woman, and thus a thousand times, and more, above them.

The Lady Bina went to where Lord Grendel was in conference with Peisistratus, Statius, and Cabot, and, with a small sound of chain, lay down at his feet.

"Kneel up, knees together, in suitable fashion,” said Lord Grendel to her, kindly. “You are a free woman. You are not a slave, to lie curled at a man's feet, as a pet sleen."

"It is appropriate,” said Cabot, “for a slave to lie at her master's feet. They look nicely there, and it is where they belong. Too, most female slaves are worth less than a sleen, certainly less than a good sleen."

"But she is a free woman, dear Cabot,” admonished Lord Grendel.

"Ah, yes,” said Cabot, resignedly.

"She belongs in a collar,” said Statius.

"No one would want her now,” said Peisistratus.

The Lady Bina sobbed, softly, and knelt as she had been encouraged to kneel, as a Gorean free woman, demurely, erect, gracefully, her knees together. To be sure, even a tower slave will kneel with her knees together. The pleasure slave, of course, must kneel with her knees spread, as she is a pleasure slave.

"Lady,” suggested Peisistratus, “draw the sheet about you."

"You are free,” said Lord Grendel. “Do as you wish."

The Lady Bina carefully, closely, drew the sheet about her, and knelt beside them, her head down.

From time to time, from within the carefully arranged sheet, was heard a small noise, a soft noise, a sob.

The men then returned to their concerns.

"It has been too quiet,” said Lord Grendel.

"Many of our men grow impatient,” said Statius. “Many urge a rush upon the enemy ramparts."

"Perhaps we should have simply taken Flavion's advice,” said Lord Grendel, “and marched into a carefully laid trap."

"I would suppose,” said Cabot, “that there is a similar unrest amongst the forces of Lord Agamemnon. They, too, are Kurii."

"Let us hope,” said Statius, “that they will make the first such move."

"Agamemnon must manage his forces as well as we ours,” said Lord Grendel, “and he will be subject to similar influences and pressures."

"But he will not be mad enough to order a frontal assault,” said Cabot.

"No,” said Lord Grendel, “but he will do something, I am sure."

"He is subtle,” said Cabot.

"He has thoughts behind thoughts,” said Statius.

"And doubtless, too,” said Cabot, “he now has at his ready disposal the advice of a most astute counselor."

"One familiar with our lines, our leadership, our thinking,” said Peisistratus.

"Do not concern yourself with Flavion's knowledge,” said Lord Grendel. “As the positions are stable, it will do him little good, no matter how extensive it is. Fear rather his cleverness."

"I do not understand,” said Statius.

"There will be a new initiative,” said Lord Grendel. “It is only that we do not know what it will be."

"It will be conceived by Flavion?” asked Cabot.

"No,” said Lord Grendel. “It will be beyond Flavion. It will be of Agamemnon himself."

Shortly after this conversation, indeed, the next day, the nature of Agamemnon's initiative became clear.

To the insurrection's humans its potency was not evident.

Its potency, however, was quite clear to Kurii.

It depended, you see, on the ways of Kur.

Chapter, the Sixty-Fifth:

THE DELEGATION RETURNS

"You have heard the proclamation,” said Lord Grendel.

"Who could not?” said Cabot, angrily. “The world rings with it."

The proclamation had been repeated several times, in both Kur and Gorean.

"Surely,” said Statius, “he does not have Lord Arcesilaus."

"He may,” said Cabot. “Lord Grendel and I found the cave by Lake Fear empty."

"Lord Arcesilaus would surely not have us comply with the proclamation,” said Archon.

"No, he would not,” said Lord Grendel, “but he cannot change the ways of Kur."

"It is not clear he is in the power of Agamemnon,” said a Kur.

"That would have to be determined,” said another Kur.

"What would it matter?” asked Archon.

"You are human,” said a Kur. “You do not understand."

"Perhaps one might die for a cause,” said Cabot, “but surely not for a leader."

"Surely humans have died for leaders, as well as causes,” said Lord Grendel.

"Not in this way,” said Cabot.

"No,” said Lord Grendel, “I suppose not in this way."

"Have humans not chosen to die for friends, for brothers, even for slaves?” asked a Kur.

"Not in this fashion, surely, or seldom so,” said Cabot.

"The proclamation is clear,” said a Kur. “It is our lives or that of Lord Arcesilaus. He will be put to death if we do not slay ourselves. Our only way to save him is to slay ourselves."

"Surely he would not wish that,” said Cabot.

"His wishes in this matter are not decisive,” said Lord Grendel.

"This is utter madness,” said Cabot. “Our Kurii cannot be serious."

"They are quite serious,” said Lord Grendel.

"Do not fear,” said a Kur. “Humans are not involved in this."

"They would be hunted down, and killed later,” said another Kur.

"Our Kurii will die, that Arcesilaus may live?” said Cabot. “The war teeters on some bizarre irrationality?"

"It is not bizarre to us,” said a Kur.

"It is the way,” said another.

"To die for a leader is to betray the cause,” said Cabot.

"The cause is the leader,” said a Kur. “The leader is the cause."

"That is madness,” said Cabot.

"You are not Kur,” said a Kur.

"It is alien to you,” said Lord Grendel, “but it is not alien to us."

"We are not as you, nor are you as we,” said a Kur.

"Surely we have rationality in common,” said Cabot.

"We are rational,” said a Kur. “It is you who are not rational. It is rational to die for the leader, to whom one is pledged. What could be more rational? It would be irrational, an act of insanity, not to do so."

"Life is first,” said Cabot.

"No,” said a Kur. “The way is first."

"Surely, Lord Grendel,” said Cabot, “you will not betray humans, and the Lady Bina amongst them, to the vengeance of the minions of Lord Agamemnon."

"I can die with them,” said Lord Grendel.

"Humans will continue to resist,” said Cabot.

"The winter can be brought,” said Lord Grendel, “and humans will be immobilized, perhaps frozen, in temperatures which, to Kurii, are merely severe."

"Suppose,” said Cabot, “many, or most, of our Kurii kill themselves. What, then, is to prevent Lord Agamemnon from killing Lord Arcesilaus?"

"Nothing,” said a Kur.

"One supposes he would do so,” said another.

"Recall,” said Lord Grendel, “the mariners awaited the noose or knife, in dismal, patient resignation, as befitting their degradation."

"That, too, was madness,” said Cabot.

"No,” said a Kur. “It is the way of Kur."

"Without the way of Kur,” said Lord Grendel, “we are not Kur."

"I suspect,” said Statius, “Agamemnon does not have Lord Arcesilaus."

"I have sent a delegation, lifting above their heads the broken spear,” said Lord Grendel, “that they may be permitted through the enemy lines and conveyed to the palace, that a determination may be made in the matter. I expected their return by now."

"Doubtless they have been slain."

"I think not,” said Lord Grendel, gazing beyond the rampart, to the field betwixt the habitats and the lines of the insurrectionists.

Small figures could be seen in the distance. Some small groups of cattle humans moved slowly from their path.

"It is the delegation,” said Statius.

Several Ehn later some four Kurii were admitted to the insurrectionists’ lines.

"Well?” said Lord Grendel.

The leader of the delegation cast aside the broken spear.

"Well?” said Lord Grendel.

"Lord Agamemnon, Eleventh face of the Nameless One, Theocrat of the World,” said their leader, “has Lord Arcesilaus in his power."

Chapter, the Sixty-Sixth:

WINTER HAS BEEN ARRANGED;

TIME HAS RUN OUT

Cabot crouched down within the ramparts, a robe clutched about him, shuddering with cold. He could not even hold the bow, nor finger arrows from the quiver, so stiff and useless were his fingers.

Wind tore about the ramparts, and blinding snow.

Lord Grendel brushed snow from his face and eyes, and examined the wintry terrain extending to the habitats.

"The weather may be localized,” said Lord Grendel. “I have given permission for the humans to withdraw."

* * * *

"Sharpen blades, and form lines,” had said a Kur. “We will begin the cutting of throats."

"And the last alive may then drive the knife into his own breast,” said another.

"May I speak?” had begged Cabot, and Lord Grendel had bidden the others listen.

"I do not understand the ways of Kur,” had said Cabot. “I do not understand how my friends, my compatriots, and brothers, can contemplate the ruination of a cause for which we have long and well fought. Are we really to abandon our war and accept a defeat which we may ascribe only to ourselves? This seems to me not only an error, a dreadful mistake, but a lapse into abject madness. Further, it is clear to me, as well, that Lord Arcesilaus would not wish this monstrous act, this self slaughtering, to take place, and, indeed, that he would forbid it, and categorically, had he the opportunity to do so. All this, I take it, is clear."