John Norman - Hunters of Gor

Thurnock had tied the two bottles of wine about her neck, that it might be easier for her, and she held the sack of cups over her head, that they might not be washed with sea water. It was thus that she made her way to shore. I felt the sand of the beach, beneath my feet. I now slung the sword over my left shoulder, in the Gorean fashion.

I climbed some yards up the beach.

The sand was hot.

The outlaws, I saw now there were six of them, including the leader, Arn, came down to meet us, bringing the girls.

They still wore the skins of panther girls. Their wrists had been lashed behind their backs. They were fastened together with a thick, twice-drilled branch, of some five feet in length. It had been placed behind their necks. Each girl was fastened to it by the throat, by binding fiber, the fiber passing through one of the drilled holes, each placed about six inches in from its end of the branch. Arn’s strong hand, gripping the branch in its center, controlled both girls. We met some yards up the beach, on the hot sand.

Arn, with the branch, forced both girls to their knees. He them put his foot on the branch, forcing their heads down to the sand. When he removed his foot, they remained as he had placed them.

“Rim!” laughed Arn. “I see that you had fallen to women!” He laughed. Rim had not chosen to wear a cap, or headgear of any kind, even a helmet, to conceal his shame. The hair was now better grown, but it was clear now, and it would remain clear, for some weeks, what had once been done to him. Rim, and I admired him for this, had not chosen to deny the shame that had been placed upon him.

“Shall we discuss the matter with the sword?” he asked Arn.

“No!” laughed Arn. “There are more important matters to discuss!”

We sat down cross-legged in the sand, Cara kneeling to one side.

“Wine,” said Rim.

Immediately the slave girl prepared to serve us.

“What is the news?” asked Arn.

“We have been abroad on Thassa,” said Rim. “We are but ignorant seamen.” “But four days ago,” said Arn, “in the guise of a peddler, I was in Lydius.” “Did your trade go well?” inquired Rim.

“I managed to exchange the threat of steel for some paltry baubles of gold,” said Arn.

“Times are good,” said Rim.

Cara knelt beside Rim, and poured wine into his cup. He took it, without noticing her.

She similarly served the others, then went to one side, where she knelt. “But I met, in a tavern,” said Arn, “a brief-tunicked girl. Though free, small, black-haired, named Tina, with a notched ear.” Some free girls, without family, keep themselves, as best they can, in certain port cities. That her ear had been notched indicated that, by a magistrate, she had been found thief. Ear notching is the first penalty for a convicted thief in most Gorean cities, whether male or female. The second offense, by a male, is punished with removal of the left hand, the third offense by the removal of the right. The penalty for a woman, for her second offense, if she is convicted, is to be reduced to slavery.

“She,” Arn continued, “smelling my gold, and pretending it irresistible desire, begged to serve me in an alcove.” Rim laughed.

“The drink she gave me,” said Arn, smiling, “was well drugged. I awakened at dawn, with a great headache. My purse was gone.” “Times are hard,” said Rim.

“I complained to a magistrate,” said Arn, laughing, “but, unfortunately, there was on present who well recalled me, one with whom I had had prior dealings.” He slapped his knee. “Soldiers were set upon me, and over the roofs and into the forests, I barely escaped.” “Times are indeed hard,” said Rim.

“True,” said Arn.

He held out his cup to Cara, and she hastened to him, to refill his cup. She, too, filled again the cups of the others. When she had finished, Rim indicated with his head that she should kneel at his side, and behind him. She did so, still with the wine.

“Well,” said Arn, “I gather that you have come to do some trading with us.” He looked at me.

“Was there other news in Lydius?” asked Rim, pleasantly.

“The price for a good sleen pelt is now a silver tarsk,” said Arn. Then he held out his cup again to Cara. “More wine,” he said.

She refilled the cup.

Arn regarded her. I saw that he was pleased with her.

I, too, held out my cup, and she rose, serving me, and then the others, in their turn, lastly serving Rim.

“Is there further news in Lydius?” I asked.

Arn smiled. “Marlenus of Ar,” he said, “was in Lydius five days ago.” I betrayed no emotion.

“What does the great Ubar do so far from Ar,” inquired Rim.

“He hunts Verna,” said Arn.

I thought I had detected the slightest movement in the shoulders of one of the panther girls, their heads to the sand, the branch lashed behind their necks. “He had once captured Verna,” continued Arn, “But she had escaped.” He looked at me. “This did not please Marlenus,” said he.

“Further,” said one of his men, “it is said that Verna now holds his daughter slave.” Arn laughed.

“Where is Marlenus now?” I asked.

“I do not know,” said Arn,” But from Lydius, he was to follow the river to Laurius, two hundred pasangs upstream. Afterwards, he was to enter the forest.” “Let us see to these females,” said Rim, gesturing with his head to the secured panther girls.

“Straighten yourselves,” said Arn.

Immediately the two girls lifted their heads from the sand, shaking their heads, throwing their hair behind their back, over the branch. They were both blond, and blue-eyed, as are many of the panther girls. Their heads were high. They knelt in the position of pleasure slaves, as they knew was expected of them. They were both quite beautiful.

“Miserable wenches,” said Rim, “common stock.”

Anger flashed in the eyes of the girls.

“They are superb,” protested Arn.

Rim shrugged.

The girls knelt proudly, angrily, while the brief panther skins were swiftly, rudely, cut from them.

They were incredibly beautiful.

“Common stock,” said Rim.

The girls gasped.

Arn was not pleased.

Rim gestured to Cara. “Stand, Slave,” said he, and remove your garment.” Angrily, Cara did so.

“Remove the fillet,” said Rim.

She pulled the woolen fillet from her hair, letting it fall free.

“Hands behind your head, head back, and turn,” said Rim.

In fury, Cara did so, on the beach, inspected.

“That,” said Rim, “is a girl.”

Arn regarded her, obviously impressed.

She was indeed beautiful, perhaps more beautiful than the panther girls. They were all incredibly beautiful women.

“Clothe yourself,” said Rim to Cara.

Swiftly, gratefully, she did so, pulling on the brief, sleeveless woolen tunic, and replacing the woolen fillet, binding back her hair. Then she knelt again, to one side and behind her master. Her head was down. She stifled a sob. No one paid her attention. She was slave.

“Since we are friends, and have known one another for many years, Rim,” began Arn, affably, “I am willing to let these two beauties go for ten pieces of gold apiece, nineteen if you take the pair, as they are.” Rim stood up. “There is no trading to be done here,” he said.

I, too, stood up. It was important to me, however, to obtain at least one of these girls. It was a portion of my plan to attempt to obtain information on the whereabouts of Verna’s band. I suspected that at least one of these girls might know matters of interest to me, and the object of my quest. It was for such a reason that we had stopped at the exchange point.

“Nine pieces of gold apiece,” said Arn.