John Norman - Beasts of Gor

“That then is the same beast,” said Ram, “assuredly.”

“I then slew it,” said Karjuk.

I sipped my Bazi tea, and looked at him, over the rim of the bowl. He, too, looked at me, and sipped his tea.

The girls, Poalu, too, remained in the background, in case the men should need aught. The white-skinned girls did not go close to the severed head. Poalu, a woman of red hunters, had no fear or repulsion concerning the object. Bones, and blood and hide, and such things, were a part of her world.

“Have you heard aught, Karjuk,” I asked, “of a mountain of ice, an ice mountain in the sea, which does not move?”

“In the winter,” said Karjuk, “the mountains in the water do not move, for then the sea is frozen.”

“Have you heard of such a mountain which does not move, even when the sea flows?” I asked.

“I have not heard of such a mountain,” he said.

“I told him there could be no such thing,” said Imnak.

“But I have seen it,” said Karjuk. He had spoken with the literalness of the red hunter.

We were all silent.

“There is such a thing?” said Imnak.

“Yes,” said Karjuk. “It is far out to sea, but once, in sleen fishing, I paddled my kayak about it.”

“Is it large?” I asked.

“Very large,” he said.

“How can there be such a thing?” asked Imnak.

“I do not know,” said Karjuk, “but I know it exists, for I have seen it.”

“Have others, too, seen it?” I asked.

“Perhaps,” said Karjuk, “I do not know.”

“Could you take me to it?” I asked.

“It is far out on the ice now,” he said.

“Could you take me to it?” I asked.

“Yes, if you wish,” he said.

I put aside my tea. “Fetch my pouch,” I said to Arlene. She hurried and brought the pouch to me.

I drew forth from the interior of the pouch the carved head of a Kur, wrought in bluish stone, that savage head with one ear half torn away.

“Is this your work?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Karjuk, “I made that.”

“Did you ever see such a beast?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Where?” I asked.

“Near the mountain that did not move,” he said.

“Is it the head of an ice beast?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “It was too darkly pelted to be an ice beast.”

“Could you lead me soon to the mountain that does not move?” I asked.

“It is the night now,” said Karjuk, “and the time of darkness. The ice is dangerous. It is at this time that the ice beasts sometimes come inland.”

“Yet you will lead me there, will you not?” I asked. I smiled.

“Yes,” said Karjuk, “if you wish.”

“That is my wish,” I said.

“Very well,” said Karjuk.

“There will be little danger if Karjuk is with us,” said Poalu. “He is the guard.”

“I will come with you,” said Imnak.

“You need not do that,” I said.

Imnak looked at the severed head of the white-pelted Kur. It was difficult to read his face. “No,” he said, “I will come with you.”

Karjuk sipped his tea.

“I, too, of course, will accompany you,” said Ram.

“Will you trade Bazi tea to the ice beasts?” I asked.

“I am coming,” said Ram.

“Very well, my friend,” I said. I looked at Karjuk. “When shall we leave?” I asked Karjuk.

“I must finish my tea,” he said, “and then sleep. We may then leave.”

“Would you like the use of any of my women?” asked Imnak of Karjuk. indicating Poalu, and Thimble and Thistle.

“Or the use of my pretty slave?” I asked, indicating Arlene.

Arlene drew back. She was frightened of the thin, dour Karjuk. Yet she knew that at my slightest word, should I speak it, she would have to serve him, fully, for she was slave.

Karjuk looked at Poalu, in the two golden bracelets, which had been rings in the ears of the slain Kur. The rings, as bracelets, were pretty on her small red wrist. She was a lovely red slave.

She drew back a bit.

“No,” said Karjuk.

He finished his tea and then crawled into furs on the sleeping platform. The others, too, prepared to retire.

“Let us not bring the girls with us,” I suggested to Imnak.

“No,” said Imnak. “We will bring them. Who else will chew the ice from our boots, and sew for us, and boil meat and tend the lamps, and keep us warm in the furs?” He rolled over in the furs. “We will take snow sleen and women,” he said.

“Very well,” I said. I did not think, objectively, there would be great danger for the women. If what I suspected was true, uses would be found for them. They were all beautiful.

“Master,” whispered Arlene.

“Yes,” I said.

“May I crawl into your furs?” she asked.

“Are you cold?” I asked. She had her own furs. Sometimes she had to sleep alone, as when I was sleeping with Audrey or Barbara.

“No, Master,” she whispered.

“Your need to serve a man is hot on you, Slave?” I asked.

“I am frightened,” she said.

I held open the furs and let her creep into them, beside me. I held her, under the furs, in my arms. She trembled, small, against me.

“I’m frightened,” she whispered, her face, so soft, against my chest.

“Of what are you frightened?” I asked.

“Of Karjuk,” she said, “and of going out on the ice.” She held me, closely. “What will you find there?” she asked.

“I do not know,” I said.

“You search for the headquarters of those who were my superiors, do you not?’ she asked.

“Yes,” I said, “Slave.”

“They must assuredly be dangerous,” she said.

“Perhaps,” I said.

“Avoid them then at all costs,” she said. “Flee to the south,” she whispered.

“Do you beg it?’ I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“No,” I said. “Your will means nothing.”

She sobbed.

“Do you know the nature of those who were your superiors,” I asked.

“No,” she said.

“Look,” I said to her, taking her head and turning it, so that she might see, in the dim light of the lamp, the head of the Kur. “They are much like that,” I said.

She half choked with horror. “No,” she said.

“It was such as they whom you, when free, served, my lovely slave beauty,” I said.

“No, no,” she whispered.

“But, yes,” I smiled. “It is true.”

“What will be done with you, if you fall into their hands?” she asked.

“I do not know,” I said. “I suspect it would not be pleasant.”

“What would they do with me, if I fell into their hands?” she asked.

“Perhaps you would be restored to all your rights and privileges,” I said, “and would again become an operative for them.”

“I failed them,” she whispered.

“That is true,” I said. “Perhaps they would find some other tasks for you to perform.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“You would look well,” I said, “in a wisp of slave silk and a steel collar.”

“They would keep me as a slave?’ she asked.

“I am sure you were brought to Gor, ultimately, to be a slave,” I said. “You are too beautiful to be indefinitely left free.”

She held me.

“Your beauty, you see,” I said, “has a cost on this world. Its price is your freedom. Beauty, and exquisite femininity, such as yours, buys for itself on this world chains and a master.”

“I am going to say something to you,” she said, “which I had never thought I would say to a man.”

“What is that?” I asked.

“I would love to wear your chains, Master,” she whispered. Then she sobbed, shaken with the horror of this confession.

“Do not weep,” I said. “It is only that you are a slave.” I kissed her. “Would you lick and kiss your chains?” I asked.