Witness of Gor (81 page)

I pulled at the bracelets on my wrists. I only hurt myself. Such devices, close-fitting, obdurate, restrain us, with perfection. I pulled against the leash collar with the side of my neck, but it was close about my neck, then above the kajira collar. The linkage of the chain clinked, the ring creaked, pulled up, straightened, from the wall. Then, held as securely as before, as helplessly, I sank back to my knees, in misery. The chain was then slack, dropping down from the back of the leash collar, looping up to the ring.

I saw a slave girl fleeing from one of the buildings. She ran, erratically, like a frightened, confused animal, here and there, on the terrace. She avoided the intruders. She fled toward the bridge. She must have seen men there. She turned back. She started toward the stairway across the terrace, but, in a moment, stopped. There were men there, too. She fled then to the balustrade and crouched down by it, trembling, making herself small.

But she was not pursued.

I did not understand it. None came after her, with a rope or chain, or even a loop of fine wire.

Her legs, I had thought, had been excellent. She had certainly seemed worthy, I would have thought, of interest. It seemed likely that she would, in a neck chain, on a block, obedient to the instructions of an auctioneer's whip, have stimulated spirited bidding.

But she crouched by the balustrade now, trembling, neglected.

I saw another man drawn out of the group. He, too, in a moment, was put to the sword.

A shadow moved swiftly across the terrace. I looked up, wildly. It was a tarnsman, aflight, undoubtedly a warrior of the city! The intruders, too, looked upward.

Had there been doubt as to their location in the city, which seemed doubtful, it had now been dispelled. Surely guardsmen of the city must have formed by now. And so, too, would have warriors quartered within the walls, though the accustomed precincts of their duty lay not within the city itself.

The guardsmen, the warriors, either, would surely far outnumber the intruders. Why did the intruders not fly? Did they not realize the danger in which they stood? I saw another man put to the sword, then another woman.

I saw two more slave girls flee out of a building. They, too, like she before them, saw nowhere to run. One, a redhead, ran to the wall to throw herself to her belly there, under a slave ring. She covered her head with her hands. She was some twenty yards to my left. The other, a blonde, finally fled to the balustrade to join the other girl there. The drop from the terrace to the next level, below, at the balustrade, was more than a hundred feet. None of the intruders showed interest in the slaves. Yet all, like most in this city, which seemed to have its pick of slaves, were clearly of high quality.

I saw another man drawn out of the group and put to the sword.

This must be some mad form of reprisal, I thought, pulling these people out, butchering them.

Had such a thing been done by the men of Treve in their city? Perhaps.

But I did not think it likely. The motivations of the men of Treve, as I understood them, were predominantly economic. I did not think they would be above pillaging and burning, but I would not have expected them to behave in this fashion. In particular I would not have expected them to put women to the sword. Women, from the point of view of the men of Treve, and from the point of view of most of the men on this world, as I understand it, are to be seen in terms of other purposes.

Another man was put to the sword.

But if it were mere massacre that was upon the mind of these men, if simple butchery was their intent, why did they not fall upon the huddled, kneeling group as a whole? Why did they not, in some two dozen fierce, merciless strokes, make the terrace run red with blood? Indeed, why had they bothered to bring them forth, here, to the terrace? Why had they not slaughtered them before, in the very vestibules, in the corridors, on the stairways of the buildings themselves? I saw then another group brought forth from a building. It was smaller than the first group.

Perhaps it had been cut off in one of the buildings, a rear entrance sealed. With this group, of some twenty or thirty individuals, including some children, I glimpsed the bared legs and arms of some tunicked slaves, at least five or six of them. The tunics of two, at least, were of silk.

These women, these slaves, though animals, were being herded along, shoulder to shoulder, frightened, with the free individuals.

I heard swordplay, from my left, and about the corner of the wall. Some defenders of the city, it seemed, doubtless come across the docking area, were now engaged in contest for the bridge leading to the terrace. It was some fifteen feet in width. I could not see what was occurring. I could hear the clash of metal.

In a moment the sounds were ended. I waited, expectantly, to see fleeing intruders, or triumphant guardsmen, stream onto the terrace. But there was nothing.

The challenge then, it seemed, had been repelled. There had not been enough men to force the bridge.

The new group of prisoners had now been flung among the others.

The sun was lower now, over the mountains.

There were cries of misery as another fellow was dragged Out of the group and, before the commander of the intruders, put to the sword.

Men among the intruders looked up, tensely, at the skies.

The commander, impatiently, angrily, swept his arm toward the wall. The slave girls in the group, those who could do so, rose to their feet, unsteadily. Others were jerked to their feet by intruders, storming among the kneeling figures. An order was barked. In two cases a blow was delivered. The slaves hurried from the group, to come to the wall, where they knelt, or lay, or crouched down, terrified. They had been separated out from the free individuals. I noted, startled, the brunette, long-haired, her legs muchly bared in brief scarlet silk, in a golden collar, who had been among the first to flee to the wall. She now lay near me, under the first slave ring to my left. She seemed half in shock. She was looking down at the stones, frightened, her legs drawn up. I do not think she knew me. The scarlet silk informed me, and all who might look upon her, that she was to be understood as a pleasure slave. In her ears were large golden rings. They said much about her, what she was, and how men were to view her, and what they were entitled to expect of her, everything, and such. She, like myself, was a pierced-ear girl.

Her golden collar, if not the rings, suggested that her master was rich, and, indeed, he was. I knew him. The slave who lay beside me, not even realizing it, was she who belonged to the officer, he whom I had served recently in his compartments. She was the slave I had met long ago on the surface of one of the towers, she whose name was "Dorna." Like myself, she was now only a pierced-ear girl. To be sure, she had silk, and a golden collar.

Smoke was now emanating from three of the buildings bordering the terrace.

A free woman was seized by the hand, and drawn forward, out of the group, to be flung on her knees before the officer. I saw her look wildly to her right, to the wall, where the slaves were, as she was dragged forward. Then she was on her knees. It was she whom I had first seen being dragged by the hair toward the center of the terrace.

A moment later I saw a sword raised over her head. "No!" she screamed.

I could hear her even at the wall. She tore down the robes from her shoulders, thrusting them down over her hips, even onto her calves. "I am a slave!" she screamed. "I am a slave!" The sword wavered, then lowered. The officer pointed to the wall. The female rose up, sobbing, and began to run toward the wall. A command arrested her and she stopped. She had not removed her slippers.

She kicked them off and then ran to the wall, to kneel there, trembling. The slave girls drew away from her. They feared her, as she must surely be a free woman.

"I. too, am a slave!" cried out another woman in the crowd. It was she whom I had seen being led at the intruder's hip, the second woman who had been brought to the center of the terrace.

She, too, tore down her robes. Those near her in the group pulled back, isolating her. So she knelt naked in her heap of robes, in a small open space in the group.

An impatient gesture from the commander of the intruders ordered her, too, to the wall.

Frenziedly she pulled off her slippers and ran to the wall, to huddle there with the other woman.

Four more women, too, then, proclaiming themselves slaves, purchased thusly their release from the group and, in turn, commanded, fled to the wall.

I heard then, suddenly, war horns, trumpets.

Men of Treve, now, in force, I thought, had come to the bridge. I did not know how long a handful of intruders could hold it. Toward the center of the terrace some intruders held the reins of several tarns.

We could hear shouting now, from the vicinity of the bridge.

I also saw intruders pointing out, over the balustrade. There were several tarns in flight, moving rapidly in this direction.

Two of the intruders, from the group at the center of the terrace, hurried toward the wall, swords drawn. The slaves were muchly pinned against it. I, of course, was held well in place by the impediment on my neck.

The slave, Dorna, may not even have seen them coming. She was looking down. It seemed she feared even to move.

One of the fellows with a sword was well to my left, much farther down the wall. The other was less far away. The farther fellow went to his right, the nearer one to his left, approaching us. Roughly did he interrogate those at the wall, including the stripped women, those who had proclaimed themselves slaves. "Where is the entrance to your pits, to your depths?" he cried, sword at the ready. I conjectured suddenly, sick, that this may well have been the object of the intruders' interest. Perhaps some in the group had known one of the entrances but had refused to divulge the information, and had, thusly, honorably, at a stroke of the sword, perished. But most of those who had been slain, I was sure, would not have known any of the entrances. Such things are not public information. But they had been slain, too. I was sick. I had seen even free women put to the sword. How terrible were these men, how desperate, how determined! One, or, at least, one who was free, who might know an entrance, it seemed, would have been well advised to reveal it. The truth or the sword was the choice offered to those hapless prisoners drawn forth from the group and put before the commander. Again and again he had given the sign that had brought the sword down on a bared neck.

"Oh!" cried the slave next to me, in pain, Dorna, kicked like a common slave, though she wore scarlet silk and a golden collar. "Where is the entrance to the pits, to the depths!" cried the intruder.

"I do not know. Master!" she wept. "I do not know!”

This, I was sure, was true. She had been taken from the top of the tower before I had been entered into the concealed shoot which had sped me far below the city, to the net suspended over the pool, that to which the giant urts had access.

"Oh!" she cried, again kicked.

He then turned to me and pulled my head up by the hair. He saw the hinged metal plates across my mouth, those attached to the gag's leather binding, the curved bars, inserted deeply between my teeth, emerging then at the sides of my mouth, curving about my neck, the whole locked behind the back of my neck, secured there with a thrust-lock.

He raised his sword in fury, in frustration, and I closed my eyes. I expected to die. Then I was flung angrily to my left side, and I fell there, on my chain, almost beside Dorna. The intruder was hurrying now about the wall, toward the bridge.

I heard another trumpet.

A tarn now flashed by, a few yards overhead.

It was less than an Ahn now till darkness.

I saw some of the intruders mount their tarns. Some of the great birds smote their way upward through the dislodged wire, to meet the newcomers.

I saw one of the intruders from the group across the terrace, at the stairway, hurrying back to the main group.

Two more buildings adjacent to the terrace were now aflame.

The intruder who had come from those stationed at the stairway rushed before the commander, pointing back toward the stairway. I saw then the commander, with several men, hurrying in that direction. In that direction, I knew, lay one of the entrances. It was the only one I knew, other than that unenviable one which lay at the top of the tower. The men at the stairs, as far as I knew, had not had to defend them, unlike the men at the bridge. Perhaps, disburdened of the necessities of defense, they had apprehended someone who knew, or pretended to know, a ground level entrance, perhaps the one I knew, to the depths. In any event, the commander had hurried toward the stairway. Almost at the same time a line of guardsmen appeared far to my left, emerging from one of the buildings. They had perhaps forced the rear entrance, and used this as an avenue onto the terrace. An instant later I saw intruders, fleeing past on my left, having come doubtless from the bridge. One, only yards away, pitched rolling to the terrace, the quarrel of a crossbow in his back. In what seemed a breath later I saw guardsmen of Treve swords drawn, burst onto the terrace, come, too, doubtless from the bridge.

One intruder turned to fight, but was cut down by five men. Others hurried across the terrace, toward the far stairway. The men who had guarded the group near the center of the terrace now rushed from the group, some to seize the reins of tarns, others running toward the stairway. There came a cheer from the group, as it rose now to its feet. Guardsmen of Treve raced across the terrace, from the left, trying to cut off the retreat of the intruders. Some men fought at the tarns. Some seven or eight tarns rose into flight. I saw one fellow cut away from the reins of his tarn, and the great bird rose, riderless, following those which had taken flight.