John Norman - Magicians of Gor

There was now a small sound, outside the room. I had heard the creak of boards on the landing.

I lay very quietly.

The weight was now outside the door.

I rolled to the side and reached for the knife beside the blankets. I located it. I removed the knife from the sheath, putting it beside the sheath. I wrapped the blanket about my left forearm. I picked up the knife. I rose quietly to my feet. I did not think I would care to be the first person through the door. There was no light beneath the door, so whoever was outside was not carrying a lamp. I did not stand directly behind the door. The metal bolt of a crossbow, fired at close range, some inches from the other side of the door, that light a door, a sort not uncommon in the poorly built insulae of the Metallan district, could splinter through and bury itself in the opposite wall.

I heard the handle of the door, a lever handle, fixed crosswise in the door, move.

It moved only a little, of course, as the bolt was thrown, the lock peg in place. Two crossbars, too, had been set across the door, in their brackets, one about the height of a man's chest, the other about the height of his thighs. The door was thus both locked and barred. It would have to be burst in, breaking loose the brackets from the wall on my side. Normally this sort of thing is done with two or three men, one or two trying to burst in the door, in one attack upon it, and the other following immediately, armed, to strike. Yet I was sure there was only one man on the other side of the door.

I then heard a tapping, softly, on the other side of the door.

I did not respond.

I waited.

Then, after a pause, there came four taps together. This was repeated, at intervals.

I was startled.

I discarded the blanket. I put the knife in my belt. I pulled loose the lock peg. I lifted the two bars from the door. I stepped back. The door opened. "It is safe to come in, I trust," said a voice.

"Yes," I said. I myself might have been similarly reluctant to enter a dark room in an insula, late at night.

"I was careless," he said. "I was seen by guardsmen."

"Come inside," I said.

"I managed to elude them," he said. "I took to the roofs. They are searching to the west."

"What are you doing here? I asked.

"I was not sure you would still be here," he said.

"I did not think it would be wise to suddenly change my residence," I said.

"I trust you can afford the rent on your single salary?" said the voice. I fumbled with a lamp, lighting it.

There had been, after the first knocking, alerting the occupants of the room, taps in groups of four. The fourth letter in the Gorean alphabet is the delka. "Why have you come back?" I asked.

"I never went," he said.

"Where is Phoebe?" I asked.

"Back-braceleted, hooded, and chained by the neck to the back of one of the wagons of your friend, Tarsk-Bit," he said.

"She thinks you are with them, too, then?" I said.

"She will discover differently in the morning," he said.

"She will wish to come after you," I said.

"She is a female," he said. "Chains will keep her where I wish."

"She will be distraught," I said.

"The lash can silence her," he said.

"You are crying," I said. The lamp was now lit.

"It is the smoke from the lamp," he said.

"Of course," I said.

"She will be kept under exact discipline and in perfect custody," he said. "I have given orders to that effect. Moreover, if she is troublesome in any way, she is to be sold enroute for a pittance, the only condition being that her new master is neither of Ar, nor has dealings with that city. Her only hope then to see me again, if she should wish to do so, is to accompany Boots Tarsk-Bit and his party in perfect docility to Port Cos."

"I am sorry for her," I said.

"Do not be," he said. "She is only a slave."

"What will you do for a slave?" I asked.

He was a Gorean male.

"Doubtless there are other sluts in Ar," he said.

"Doubtless," I said.

"Is there anything to eat?" he asked.

"Some bread," I said, indicating a wrapper to one side.

He attacked the bread.

"It seems the lamp is still smoking," I said.

"I hadn't noticed," he said.

"You came to Ar to recover the Home Stone of Ar's Station," I said. "You have done so. Your work here is finished. You should go back to Port Cos."

"I do not think my presence with the troupe of Tarsk-Bit would make much difference," he said.

"Nonetheless," I said, "your work here is finished."

"You have acquired the female for whom you came to Ar," he said. "She is now your slave. Indeed, you could go fetch her now, from where she lies, chained and helpless. You could get her out of the city. You could carry her off. But you did not choose to do so. Rather you are letting her go."

"I look upon it differently," I said. "I look more upon it as giving her, for a time, the run of her tether."

"You finished your work in Ar," he said. "Why have you not left, taking your slave with you, if you wished?"

"She is not important," I said. "She is a mere slave girl."

"But you came to Ar for her," he said. "And you let her maneuver herself perfectly, and helplessly, into your hands. It was a coup. She is yours."

"I think that I shall stay in Ar, for a time," I said.

"Why?" he asked. "You are not of Ar."

"Why have you come back?" I asked. "Are you so fond of Ar?"

"I hate Ar," he said.

"Why, then, have you returned?" I asked.

"Because you are still here," he said.

"I, too, am hungry," I said.

He tore off a piece of bread. "Here," he said.

"I am grateful, Marcus, my friend," I said.

"It is nothing," he said.

We then, in the light of the small lamp, ate together.