John Norman - Beasts of Gor

“Tal,” said I, lifting my right hand to them, palm facing the left.

They did not respond.

The captain stepped forth. They did not seem then to me to be pleasant fellows.

“Who are you?” asked the captain.

“One who has greeted you,” I said.

“Tal,” said he, lifting his hand.

“Tal,” I rejoined.

“We have seen nothing of the sport slave,” he said.

“I do not hunt him,” I said.

“Where is your tharlarion?” asked one of the men.

“I have none,” I said.

“Do not block our way,” said the captain.

“I mean you no harm,” I said. “I greet you in peace and friendship.”

“Who are you?” asked the captain.

“I am one who is of the warriors,” I said. “And I am a traveler, a visitor now in this country.”

“What is your business?” he asked.

“It lies in the north,” I said.

“He is a brigand from the forests north of Laura,” said the lady.

“No, Lady,” said I, deferentially. I inclined my head to her, for she was free, and obviously of high station.

“You have been greeted,” she said, icily. “Now stand aside.”

I thought her tone surly.

I did not move.

“This is the retinue of Constance, Lady in Kassau, enroute to Lydius, returning from the sights of Ar.”

“She must be rich,” I said. Surely this was true, for her to travel as she did, not in public caravan.

“Stand aside,” said the captain.

“A moment, Captain,” said I. I looked to the free woman. “I am a man, dear lady,” said I, “and am of the warriors. I have journeyed far.”

“I do not understand,” she said.

“I assume,” said I, “that you will linger briefly here, to fill the flasks of water, if not camp for the night.”

“What does he want?” she asked.

“He is of the warriors, milady,” said the captain.

“Forgive me, Lady,” said I, “but my need is much upon me.”

The two slave girls, bare-armed and veiled, quickly glanced to one another.

“I do not understand,” said the graceful figure in the sedan chair. She was free.

I grinned at her. “I have food,” I said. “I have water. But I have not had for four days a woman.”

She stiffened. The night before I had left Port Kar I had had Vella sent naked to my room. I had used her ruthlessly several times, before sleeping and, early in the morning, when I had awakened. “Take me with you,” she had begged. “So that you might with another Bertram of Lydius,” I asked, “conspire against me?” “He tricked me, Master,” she wept. “He tricked me.” “I should have you lashed to within an inch of your life, Slave Girl,” I had told her. “I am innocent, Master,” she had wept I had then turned my back on her and left her, naked, chained in the furs at the foot of my couch.

But that had been four days ago

I gestured to the two girls with the free woman. One of them slightly lowered her veil.

“I will pay well for the use of one of these slaves,” I said to the free woman.

“They are my personal slaves,” she said.

“I will give a silver tarsk for the brief use of one, either that you might indicate,” I said.

The warriors looked at one another. The offer was quite generous. It was unlikely that either of the girls would bring so much on the block.

“No,” said the free woman, icily.

“Permit me then to buy one,” I said, “for a golden tarn.”

The men looked at one another, the draft slaves, too. Such a coin would fetch from the block a beauty fit for the gardens of a Ubar.

“Stand aside,” said the free woman.

I inclined my head. “Very well, Lady,” said I. I moved to one side.

“I deem myself to have been insulted,” she said.

“Forgive me, Lady,” said I, “but such was not my intent If I have done or said aught to convey that impression, however minutely, I extend to you now the deepest and most profound of apologies and regrets.”

I stepped back further, to permit the retinue to pass.

“I should have you beaten,” she said.

“I have greeted you in peace and friendship,” I said. I spoke quietly.

“Beat him,” she said.

I caught the arm of the captain. His face turned white. “Have you raised your arm against me?” I asked.

I released his aim, and he staggered back. Then he slung his shield on his arm, and unsheathed the blade slung at his left hip.

“What is going on!” demanded the woman.

“Be silent, foolish woman,” said the captain.

She cried out with rage. But what did she know of the codes?

I met his attack, turning it, and he fell, shield loose, at my feet. I had not chosen to kill him.

“Aiii!” cried one of the draft slaves.

“Kill him! Kill him!” cried the free woman. The slave girls screamed.

Men shouted with rage.

“Who is next?” I asked.

They looked at one another.

“Help me,” said the captain. Two of the men went to him and lifted him, bleeding, to his feet. He looked at me, held between his men.

I stood ready.

He looked at me, and grinned. “You did not kill me,” he said.

I shrugged.

“I am grateful,” he said.

I inclined my head.

“Too,” said he, “I know the skills of my men. They are not poor warriors, you understand.”

“I am sure they are not,” I said.

“I do not choose to spend them,” he said. He looked at me. “You are a tarnsman,” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

“I thought it would be so,” he said. He looked at me. “I give you greetings of the caste of warriors,” he said.

“Tal,” said I.

“Tal,” said he.

“Kill him!” cried the free woman. “Kill him!”

“You have wronged this man,” said the captain. “And he has labored within the permissions of his codes.”

“I order you to kill him!” cried the free woman, pointing to me.

“Will you permit us to pass, Warrior?” asked the captain.

“I am afraid, under the circumstances,” I said, “that is no longer possible.”

He nodded. “Of course not,” he said.

“Kill him!” cried the free woman.

“We are six now who can fight,” said the captain. “It is true that we might kill him. I do not know. But never have I crossed swords with one such as he. There is a swiftness, a sorcery, a savageness in his steel which in a hundred fights to the death I have never encountered. And yet I now stand alive beside your chair to explain this to you, who are incapable of understanding it.”

“He is outnumbered,” she pointed out.

“How many will he kill?” asked the captain.

“None, of course!” she cried.

“I have crossed steel with him, Lady,” said the captain. “Do not explain to me the nature of swordplay and odds.” He looked to his men. “Do you wish to fall upon him, Lads?” he asked, smiling wryly.

“Command us, and we shall attack,” said one of the men.

I thought their discipline good.

The captain shook his head ruefully. “I have crossed steel with him, Lads,” said he. “We shall withdraw.”

“No!” screamed the free woman.

The captain turned, supported by two men.

“Cowards!” she cried.

The captain turned to face her. “I am not a coward, Lady,” said he. “But neither am I a fool.”

“Cowards!” she cried.

“Before I send men against one such as he,” said the officer, “it will be to defend a Home Stone.”

“Coward! Cowards!” she screamed.

“I have crossed steel with him,” said the captain. He then, held between his men, withdrew. More than one of them cast glances at me over their shoulder. But none, I think, wished to return to do contest.

I resheathed the blade.