John Norman - Dancer of Gor

"Yes," I said.

"In that direction lies the camp of Pietro Vacchi," he said. "It will also, of course, bring you to the Vitkel Aria."

"Master!" I said.

"Do you understand?" he asked.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Remember that there is no freedom or escape for you on this world. You are merely a collared slave. It is my advice, accordingly, that you submit yourself as soon as possible to the first man, or men, you think are capable of defending you. If you are caught, on the other hand, you might be considered a runaway, and be forced to bear the grievous consequences of such a foolish indiscretion." "I am a slave," I said. "I do not wish to be free."

"You will not be," he said.

"I am afraid," I said, "terribly afraid."

"Do not be afraid," he said. "He is not coming."

"Oh, Master," I breathed, joyously, "Master!" I felt incredible relief. My entire body relaxed. I leaned forward, toward him, toward my master. Almost at the same time I heard a sudden, bestial, deafening, screaming roar behind me and the movement of a huge body and my master was leaping to his feet lunging over the fire thrusting his sword into the darkness behind me over my head and I twisted and saw two great, hairy arms outstretched reaching for him, which closed about him, and I screamed, the body and jaws of the thing over me. I between it and my master, and I threw myself to the side.

In an instant I turned, wildly, on all fours, and, in the half darkness, the fire muchly struck and scattered, tiny flames about, from fiery brands and flaring leaves, saw two shapes, a gigantic bestial shape, and that of a human being, a man, locked together, swaying, clawed feet and sandals moving in the dirt, struggling for leverage and position.

My master had said it was not coming, but how could he have known that, I now realized, at that particular time, without even looking up? No, he had know it was coming. When he had said that it had seemed, in my relief, that the entire physiology to the tone of my body had changed. Perhaps this had suggested to the beast, by sight, and perhaps even by smell, that its presence was undetected, unsuspected, that we were unready, that we thought ourselves safe, that that was the moment of attack. Naturally it would wish to dispose of the man first. I, a female, unarmed and naked, if it were interested in me at all, could be left for later. I had even leaned forward, happily. Clearing the path to him.

The two forms seemed very still now, near the remains of the fire, standing, hardly moving.

"Tuka," called my master, throatedly."Yes, Master!" I cried.

"Your permission to flee," he said, speaking the words one at a time, slowly, "is revoked."

"Yes, Master!" I cried.

I saw the long, hairy arms of the gigantic beast slowly relaxing their grasp on my master" s body. The tunic was torn from his back. I did not know if he could stand without the support of the beast.

"Build up the fire," he said. His voice seemed strangely full and resonant. But, too, it seemed he could hardly speak.

I hurried to gather the scattered brands, and other wood, and thrust them to the fire. I attended also to the few remaining tiny flares of flame about, those left from the scattering of the fire. It was not difficult to extinguish these. I scattered some and heaped dirt on others. Some I stamped out.

Approaching the fire with an armful of sticks, from the pile to one side, gathered earlier in the woods by Tupita and myself. I saw the eyes of the beast turned upon me. I do not know if it understood what it saw. They seemed expressionless. It was still on its feet. From its chest there protruded the handle of a sword. It had been halted from further penetration by its guard. It had been, the force compounded by its own charge, driven through the body. My master stood back a bit, his tunic in shreds upon his back. his arms were bloody. His chest was bloody, too, though I think from the blood of the beast. He was trembling. The beast then sat down, back on its haunches, by the now built-up fire. It shook its head and bit at the fur on its arm, as though grooming itself. It then, slowly, lay down. The handle of the sword rose an inch or so, then, showing the blade, as the beast lay back. the point had apparently entered the dirt behind it, but, too, in virtue of this resistance, the blade itself, pressed up, emerged slightly from the body. The beast reached to the handle of the sword with its large hands, or paws, with those six, tentaclelike digits. They touched the handle but could not close about it. It then put its arms down, to the sides. Blood was at its mouth, and chest, from around the blade.

My master looked at me. He was breathing heavily. He was visibly shaken. "Lie across it," he said, on your back, with your head down."Swiftly I put the sticks on the fire and lay across the beast, on my back, my head down. I was terrified. It was still alive. I could feel the heat of its body, its breathing, its blood on my back. my master" s weapon was still in the beast. It was near my waist, as I lay, on my left. He was breathing heavily. He looked down at me. He then suddenly, rudely, fiercely, not sparing me, thrust apart my knees. We were alive, the two of us! We had survived! "Master!" I cried, impaled by, and submitting to, the beauty, the glory, the surgency of his eager, claimant, merciless, rejoicing manhood. And it was thus he took the slave, who was his, putting her to his pleasure on the body of the beast. This act, in its emotional power, its significance and complexity, was indescribable. It was an act of assertive aggressiveness, of vitality, of joy, of significance. It was a release from the fear of death, it was a thanksgiving for fate and fortune, it was an affirmation of life, it was the cry of a wild verr in the mountains, the leaping of a fish in the sea, the roar of the larl, the hiss of the sleen, the scream of a tarn in the sky. Only to those who have been closest to death is the value of life most dear.

He then, gently, drew me from the beast. He kissed me, and held me to him. "Tomorrow we will leave the camp," he said.

"It was for this that you were waiting?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"It is dead," I said.

"Yes," he said.

He then drew his sword from the body of the beast, and cleaned it on its fur. "You did not choose to leave an enemy behind you," I said.

"Nor did he," he said.

"Would it have followed you?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"You knew that it was about," I said, "because of the dust of the others, those in the meadow, their burial."

"I thought it would linger," he said. "The dust, of course, convinced me that my conjecture was correct."

"You seem to know something of these things," I said, shuddering.

"A little," he said.

"What is to be done now?" I asked.

"I shall take it to the meadow, and put it with the others," he said, "burying it, as it did them, with a handful of dust. After that there is the matter of rites, of suitable ceremonies."

"It is only a beast," I said to him.

"No," he said, "it is more than a beast."

I looked at him.

"It was of the People," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Remain here," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Master well knows how to use a slave," I gasped. "Will he not be merciful with me? What does he want of me? I am only a slave! Must he drive me mad with passion?"

"Be silent," he grumbled.

I twisted helplessly in the love chains. I jerked helplessly again them, the rings cutting into my ankles, pulling against my wrists. There are many varieties of such chains. These were simple and had been earlier taken from the wagoner" s bench, part of the loot which my master had divided between himself and Mirus. Each consisted of a wrist ring and an ankle ring, joined by about ten inches of chain. My left wrist had been attached to my left ankle, my right wrist to my right ankle. I was on my back. A chain was also on my neck. It fastened me to a nearby tree, a yard or so from our blankets.