Plunder of Gor (41 page)

I lifted my head. I could still taste the leather of the sandals.

“It is cool,” he said. “We must get you indoors. We must get you somewhere, for warmth, and such.”

“Master is injured,” I said.

The side of his head was caked with blood. It had been raked with the clawed paw of the foremost of the three beasts. Had he not been pulling away from the impending blow it might have broken his neck. As it was, it had sent him reeling yards from the opened crate, into the darkness to the side.

“It is nothing,” he said.

“I gather that the plans of Master, whatever they might have been,” I said, “have come to naught.”

“The attempt to interfere was anticipated,” he said.

“Clearly your plans have been ruined,” I said.

“Thwarted,” he said, “not ruined.”

“Master?” I said.

“Adjustments must now be made,” he said. “Factions do contest. The intentions of one faction, obviously, became clear to those of another faction, which then acted, but, in turn, it is not difficult to fathom the likely intentions of the interfering faction. Thus, all is not lost.”

“Seek care,” I said. “Your wound must be bathed, treated, and dressed.”

“You shiver,” he said. “I must get you to shelter.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Keep your hands, palms down, on your thighs,” he said.

He had earlier treated the rawness on my right shoulder and side, attending to it with a soothing lotion.

He had been firm and gentle.

We were in an alcove, of the Slave Whip, one other than that we had hitherto occupied. To be sure, it was similarly lit, with the small tharlarion-oil lamp in its niche, and was similarly equipped, the chains, the straps, the materials for gags and blindfolds, the switch, a coiled whip, on its peg, various articles in the presence of which a slave would be in no doubt that she was a slave.

In his hand was a goblet.

Into it he had poured wine.

Surely it was not for me.

I was a slave.

“Master?” I said.

He put his hand in my hair and pulled my head back, so I gazed on the low, rounded roof of the alcove.

“Get your mouth open,” he said.

His hand was tight in my hair.

“Wider,” he said.

I complied.

“This will warm you,” he said. He then, slowly, a bit at a time, gave me to drink. Gratefully I imbibed the fluid, a wine, a ruby wine, how it purred in one's mouth and throat, like a soft, stirring, liquid flame. Only once before, in the storage facility on Earth, shortly before my shipment to Gor, had I tasted such a beverage. Again, it far exceeded, in bouquet and flavor, any wine with which I had been familiar on Earth.

“Ka-la-na,” I whispered.

He drew away the goblet. “Cheap, of course,” he said.

“Master is kind,” I said.

“Do you wish to be whipped?” he asked.

“No, Master,” I said.

He then finished the contents of the goblet, and set it aside.

“I tasted such a wine once before,” I said, “on Earth.”

“The barbarian world,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“This, however,” he said, “contains no tassa powder.”

“A slave is grateful,” I said.

The alcove was warm. The shreds of the paga tunic had been discarded. I was naked, as slaves are commonly kept in alcoves.

“To all fours,” he said.

I went to all fours.

He reached to the side, and picked up a chain and collar. He clasped the collar about my neck, and snapped it shut. The far end of the chain was fastened to a ring, in the wall.

I was then chained by the neck to the wall.

He then sat down, cross-legged, and pointed to the fur-strewn floor, near him, to his left. I then lay where he had indicated. I lay on my right aside. My face was near his left knee.

“May I speak?” I asked.

“Surely,” he said.

“Master is injured,” I said. “He must seek refuge, and rest.”

“There is no time,” he said.

One of the attendants in the Slave Whip had washed the lacerations at the side of his head, applied an antiseptic, and affixed a bandage. Kurik had refused the entreaties of the tavern master to summon a member of the green caste. I suspected this had primarily to do with matters of security. Presumably he thought it best that the fewer who knew of his presence here the better it would be. The discretion of the tavern master and his attendants was seemingly deemed sufficient. I suspected, as well, that a coin or two, perhaps of gold, had added to his confidence in their discretion. To be sure, attendants in paga taverns were not without experience in dressing wounds and keeping to their own affairs.

My master and I had fed earlier, as we had before, the drink and victuals brought discreetly to the alcove itself.

“You look well on a chain, Phyllis,” he said.

I touched the collar, lightly. “Phyllis is a slave,” I said.

“Every woman,” he said, “looks well on a chain.”

“We belong on them,” I said.

“It is true,” he said.

Were we not the slave sex? Did we not belong at the feet of masters? I had learned that on Gor, to my fear, my fulfillment, and joy.

How wonderful it is, and reassuring, to be a man's possession, to belong to a man, wholly.

I wondered if free women could understand the slave's feelings, her desires, her sense of rightfulness, her heat, her passion, her longing to be owned.

Perhaps only if they were put in a collar.

What a joy it is to have a master!

“You are different from what I remember from the barbarian world,” he said.

“I am now a slave,” I said.

“Now,” he said, “you are nearly beautiful.”

“Oh?” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Some have thought me beautiful,” I said.

“Here?” he said. “On Gor?”

“Yes,” I said.

It was a common joke, amongst the men of Gor, that the men of Earth thought some women beautiful merely because they had seen no better, as though, say, Gorean women might be superior to those of Earth. How this arrogance had angered me! How absurd it was! The women of Earth and those of Gor were of identical stock. From whence did they think came the humans of Gor, and their own ancestors, if not from the precincts of Earth at one time or another! And what of some Gorean beauties, slave-clad and in their collars, to whom they might point as excellent examples of their claim, the superiority of Gorean beauties to those of Earth? Upon inquiry they might learn that those very beauties had been brought from Earth to be sold on Gor! If there were differences, negative differences, between the women of Earth, at least those still on Earth, and Gorean women, it seemed clear that these differences might be attributed to the diverse social and psychological pathologies found on Earth, inimical to the genetic heritages of human nature, which sanctioned and inculcated, strove to deny womanhood to women and manhood to men.

“Yes,” he said, musingly. “Perhaps you are beautiful.”

I kissed his left knee, softly, and put my head down again, my right cheek on the furs.

I gathered I had much changed on Gor, a collared slave. I had become soft, and graceful, and yielding and surrendered, and needful, terribly needful. I had become myself, reduced to my essentials. On this world I had been stripped of pretense and convention. On this world I had become what I was, and no more, a female animal, suitable for owning.

“Master could have been killed,” I said.

“I was not,” he said.

“Flee,” I said. “Seek safety, elsewhere.”

“No,” he said.

“I understand so little of these things,” I said.

“Dark games are afoot,” he said.

“Withdraw from them,” I said.

“What is life without its games?” he said.

“Surely these games are not yours,” I said.

“I choose my games,” he said.

“And you find zest in this, excitement?” I said.

“Surely,” he said. “What games can compare to those of blood and steel?”

“Those of flowers, and love,” I said.

“They are often intertwined,” he said.

“I do not understand,” I said.

“I will speak to you, briefly,” he said. “There are forms of life, abundant and diverse, on untold worlds, worlds beyond numbering, those that eat and those that are eaten, those that kill and those that are killed, those that rule and those that are ruled. Let us suppose there was once a lovely world on which the factions of a fierce form of life, technologically gifted, and ruthless, unchecked, disrupted, poisoned, and sterilized a world, perhaps shattering it, perhaps inadvertently, ignorantly, forcing it from its very orbit, into its star, to be consumed in fire, or away, into a frozen desert of airless darkness. Some remnants of this destroyed world, one might suppose, survived, in enclosed metal rafts, so to speak, in artificial satellites, perhaps mixed with the debris of their former world, or perhaps, rather, fled far from their original star, seeking a new world to replace the one ruined, one does not know. But suppose then the remnants of the destroyed world discovered new worlds, one lovely, as lovely as was their former world, and another, one seemingly engaged in the same dismal, menacing process of climbing to the same harrowing, technological summit, polluted with the same territorialities and hatreds that had led to the destruction of their former world. Either of these new worlds might be suitable for conquest, and colonization, obviously, but surely the lovelier world might be preferred.”

“Doubtless,” I said.

“But suppose,” said Kurik, “that it was discovered that the lovelier world was not as innocent and vulnerable as had been conjectured. Suppose, rather, it was the world of a considerably different form of life, a mysterious, powerful form of life, about which we know little, that within its caves and dens, so to speak, quiescent until aroused, armed and wary, lurked beasts between whose paws worlds might be crushed.”

“I am afraid,” I said.

“These latter beasts,” he said, “of which I conjecture, are much like gods, content unto themselves, with little interest in the politics and vicissitudes of mundane matters, and certainly not those of other species. Still, despite their passivity and aloofness, their singular lack of imperialism and aggression, they will protect the integrity of their habitat to the death.”

“They are Priest-Kings,” I said. “I have heard of them.”

“They have enacted laws, weapon laws, communication laws, and such,” said Kurik, “that are enforced with severity, that no other form of life, Kur or human, or other, may reduce, sicken, or ruin their world.”

“Why do not the Kurii,” I asked, “if they are so ambitious, violent, and powerful, if this world is not yet available to them, seize Earth?”

“Priest-Kings,” said Kurik, “shelter Earth. Who would place at the disposal of an enemy the resources of a planet, who would grant them an island, a platform, from which, in time, to launch a great attack, a mighty armada, against them?”

“How is it,” I asked, “that Priest-Kings have permitted humans on their world?”

“Gods,” said Kurik, “have their curiosities, their hobbies, their passions, and interests. Gor has been stocked with thousands of life forms from throughout the galaxy. Humans were brought to Gor with many other forms of life. Surely humans are an interesting form of life.”

“And Priest-Kings,” I said, “condone humans, and even Kurii, on Gor?”

“Provided the laws are kept,” said Kurik.

“I was not brought to Gor by Priest-Kings,” I said.

“No,” he said, “you and others, in a sense, are contraband.”

“The ship was a Kur ship?” I said.

“Yes, modified,” said Kurik.

“Then you are in league with Kurii,” I said.

“With some,” he said, “not others. There are factions amongst Kurii.”

“Your name!” I said.

“Of course,” he said.

“Why should you be allowed a ship?” I asked.

“Men serve Priest-kings, men serve Kurii,” said Kurik. “Men may move easily amongst humans on Earth, and easily amongst humans on Gor. Thus, in various ways, they may be found of value to both Priest-Kings and Kurii, and on both Earth and Gor. For example, certain commodities are scarce on the steel worlds. Thus, it is in the interest of the Kurii to enlist men to obtain them on Earth, and convey them to the steel world, copper, for example. Thus ships are furnished.”

“But why are women brought to Gor?” I asked.

“To wear collars and give pleasure to masters,” he said.

“Doubtless we are a part of your pay,” I said.

“A very pleasant part,” he said. “We are slavers. Surely you do not begrudge us our business, such a pleasant business.”

“I am glad I was brought to Gor,” I said.

“It does not matter one way or another,” he said.

“Of course,” I said. “I am a slave.”

“Kurii may war not only upon other forms of life,” he said, “but, as you would suppose, given the destruction of their world, on Kurii, as well.”

“There are factions,” I said.

“Even within the same steel world,” he said. “Now I will tell you a story. Accept, first, if you will, that both Priest-Kings and Kurii have uses for humans.”

“You have made that clear,” I said.

“And that humans, suitably armed, can be as dangerous as any other aggressive, stupid, self-seeking territorial form of life, similarly armed.”

“That is doubtless true,” I said.

“And that there are few humans on the steel worlds, but many on Gor.”

“Surely there are many on Gor,” I said.

“But few, compared to Earth,” he said.

“It seems so,” I said.

“But yet many,” he said, “at least in areas with which you are likely to be acquainted.”

“Let it be as Master speaks,” I said. I still knew so little of this world.

“To be sure,” he said, “much of Gor, to humans, if not to Kurii or Priest-Kings, is
terra incognita
.”

“I did not know,” I said.

“A paradox obtains,” he said.

“Master?” I said.

“Gor, as you probably know,” he said, “is smaller than the Earth. Surely you noted the difference in gravity, a difference to which you are now accustomed, one that you now accept, and no longer notice.”

“I remember,” I said.

“But what you may not know,” he said, “is that Gor has more land surface than Earth. She has her turbulent, mighty Thassa, but she has no second, vast sea, like that you speak of as the Pacific.”

“I know of Thassa,” I said, “and of lesser lakes or seas, but none that are comparable to Thassa.”

“So,” he said, “humans are many on Gor, at least in places, but few, it seems, given the wealth of land, muchly unexplored, at their disposal.”

“Gor is thinly populated,” I said.

“It would have occurred to Kurii, would it not,” he said, “to recruit to their purposes not only particular agents, and scattered, small groups, but larger portions of the human population of Gor?”