John Norman - Beasts of Gor

“The red hunters depend on the tabuk,” I told her. “Without it they will starve.”

“That is not my concern,” she said.

The men put their hands on my arms.

“Oh,” she said, “incidentally you may know of a ship of supplies which had been bound for the high north.”

“I know of such a ship,” I said.

“It has been sunk,” she said. “Its crew doubtless will greet you tomorrow. They, too, labor on the wall.”

“How could you take the ship?” I asked.

“There are five tarnsmen here,” she said, “though now they are on patrol. They fired the ship from the air. Its crew, abandoning the ship, were apprehended later. The ship, burned to the waterline, was steered onto the rocks and fell awash. In the rising of the tide it was freed and sank. Sharks now frequent its hold.”

I looked at her.

“We are thorough,” she said.

“The red hunters will starve,” I told her.

“That is not my concern,” she said.

“Why are you holding the tabuk?” I asked. “What have you to gain?”

“I do not know,” she said. “I am merely discharging my orders.”

“The red hunters,” I said.

“They are not my concern,” she said. Then she said, “Take him away.”

Two men seized me and conducted me from her presence. I was confident that I saw the point of stopping the tabuk. Its role in the plans of Kurii seemed clear to me. I was puzzled that the girl did not see its import.

She knew no more, it seemed, than she needed to know.

“Is he still alive?” asked a man.

I lay chained in the slave pen.

“Yes,” said the red hunter.

“He is strong,” said another man.

I wanted the woman in my power who had had me beaten. I struggled to a sitting position.

“Rest now,” said Ram. “It is nearly dawn.”

‘They have you, too,” I said. I had left him in Lydius, in the paga tavern.

He grinned wryly. “Late that night,” said he, “in the alcove they surprised me with Tina. At sword point I was hooded and chained.”

“How was the girl?’ I asked.

“In a quarter of an Ahn,” he said, “I had her screaming herself mine.” He licked his lips. “What a slave she is!” he marveled.

“I thought she would be,” I said. “Where is she?” I asked.

“Is she not here?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“Where have they taken her?” he asked.

“I do not know,” I said.

“I want her back,” he said.

“She is only a slave,” I said.

“I want to own her again,” he said.

“Do you think she is your ideal slave?” I asked.

“Perhaps,” he said, “I do not know. But I will not be content until she is again at my feet.”

“But did you not make her serve you paga publicly in her own city, and as a slave girl?”

“Of course,” he said. “And then I took her by the hair to the alcove.”

“Is that the way you treat your ideal slave?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said.

“Excellent,” I said. I saw that Ram was a true master. The girl’s helplessness was doubtless in part a response to his strength. Slave girls are seldom in doubt as to which men are their masters and which are not.

“What is your name?” I asked the red hunter. “Forgive me,” I said.

Red hunters are often reluctant to speak their own name. What if the name should go away? What if it, in escaping their lips, should not return to them?

“One whom some hunters in the north call Imnak may share your chain,” he said.

He seemed thoughtful. Then he seemed content. His name had not left him.

“You are Imnak,” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“I am Tarl,” I said.

“Greetings, Tarl,” he said.

“Greetings, Imnak,” I said.

“I have seen you before,” said a man.

“I know you,” I said. “You are Sarpedon, who owns a tavern in Lydius.

“I sold the little slave whom you knew,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “She is now collared in my house.”

“A superb wench,” he said. “I often used her for my pleasure.”

“Your tavern, now,” I said, “seems to be managed by one called Sarpelius.”

“I know,” he said. “I would that I could get my hands on the rogue’s throat.”

“How came you here?” I asked.

“I was voyaging upstream on the Laurius,” he said, “to see if panther girls had caught any new slave girls, whom I might purchase from them for arrow points and candy, for use in the tavern as paga sluts. But unfortunately it was I, taken by five tarnsmen on the river, who found myself chained. It was part of a plan, of course. My assistant, Sarpelius, was in league with them.”

“Your tavern is being used to recruit workers for the wall.” said Ram.

Several men grunted angrily.

“Put Sarpelius in my grasp,” said Sarpedon, “and I will see you receive rich satisfaction for your inconvenience.”

“Admiral,” said a man.

“I know you,” I said. “You are Tasdron, a captain in the fee of Samos.”

“The ship was fired, and then sunk,” said he, “the supply ship, that bound for the north.”

“I know,” I said.

“I am a failed captain,” said he.

“It is difficult to defend against tarn attack, the sheets of burning oil to the sails.”

“They came again and again,” he said.

“You were not a ram ship,” I said, “not craft set for war.”

“Who would have thought there would be tarnsmen north of Torvaldsland,” said Ram.

“It is possible in the spring and summer,” said Sarpedon.

“You saved your men,” I said. “You did well.”

“What ship is this?” asked Imnak.

“I had a ship sent north,” said I, “with food for the men of the polar basin, when I heard the herd of Tancred had not yet trod the snows of Ax Glacier.”

Imnak smiled. “How many skins would you have demanded in payment for this provender?” asked he.

“I had not thought to make a profit,” I said. Imnak’s face darkened.

The people of the north are proud. I had not meant to demean him or his people.

“It is a gift,” I said. He would understand the exchange of gifts.

“Ah,” he said. Gifts may be exchanged among friends. Gifts are important in the culture of the men of the polar basin. There need be little occasion for their exchange Sometimes, of course, when a hunter does not have food for his family another hunter will invite him to his house, or will pay a visit, bearing meat, that they may share a feast. This pleasantry, of course, is returned when the opportunity presents itself. Even trading in the north sometimes takes on the aspect, interestingly, of the exchange of gifts, as though commerce, obvious and raw, might somehow seem to offend the sensibility of the proud hunters. He who dares to pursue the twisting, sinuous dangerous sea sleen in the arctic waters, fended from the teeth and sea by only a narrow vessel of tabuk skin and his simple weapons and skill, does not care to be confused with a tradesman.

“I know you are wise and I am stupid,” said Imnak, “for I am only a lowly fellow of the polar basin, but my peoples, in the gathering of the summer, in the great hunts, when the herd comes, number in the hundreds.”

“Oh,” I said. I had not realized there were so many. One ship would have done little to alleviate the distress, the danger of starvation, even had it managed to slip through the air blockade of the Kurii’s tarnsmen.

“Too,” said Imnak, “my people are inland, waiting for the herd to come to the tundra grazing. It gives me pleasure to know that you understood this, and knew where to find them, and had considered well how to transport the gifts to them. so many sleeps across the tundra.”