John Norman - Kur of Gor

"What if it be their will?” said Grendel.

"I repudiate their will!” said Cabot.

"It might be dangerous to do so,” said Grendel. “Are they not world masters, the gods of Gor?"

"If their laws are respected,” said Cabot, “they dabble little in the doings of human beings."

"Or Kurii,” said Grendel.

"Yes,” said Cabot, “or Kurii."

"So it seems,” said Grendel.

"There is no board,” said Cabot.

"I think,” said Grendel, “there may be such a board, but that, unbeknownst to Priest-Kings, two sit at that board."

"I do not understand,” said Cabot.

"Do you think that my people, the Kurii,” asked Grendel, “are merely the messengers of Priest-Kings?"

"No,” said Cabot.

"Might they not, too, see uses for you?"

"No,” said Cabot, angrily.

"Might the game, perhaps one of dozens, not prove interesting?"

"There is no such game,” said Cabot.

"Perhaps,” said Grendel, “it is even a new game, or a changed game, pieces subtly removed, or even swept, from a surface, a different board, even, a game not even of Priest-Kings, but, now, rather, one of Kurii."

"There is no game,” said Cabot.

"But perhaps you are right,” said Grendel. “Perhaps the Priest-Kings have no further interest in you, nor Kurii, and that you will be returned to your holding, freed from the obligations of worlds."

"Certainly,” said Cabot.

"But the rumored coordinates,” said Grendel, “suggest not Port Kar, but a location farther north, a remote beach, far from civilization, in the vicinity of the northern forests."

"Perhaps that Ramar may be freed, in a suitable venue?"

"Perhaps,” said Grendel.

"But you do not believe that?"

"No,” said Grendel.

"But why?” asked Cabot. “To what end, for what purpose?"

"I do not know,” said Grendel.

"And who then might know?” asked Cabot, angrily.

"Perhaps Priest-Kings,” said Grendel.

"Or Kurii,” said Cabot.

"Yes,” said Grendel, “or Kurii."

"Games may be afoot,” said Cabot.

"Perhaps,” said Grendel. “Do you really object?"

"No,” said Cabot.

"I thought not,” said Grendel.

"I see, beyond the port,” said Peisistratus, joining them, “Cestiphon, Statius, Archon, Lord Arcesilaus, many noble humans and high Kurii. They have come to see us off. Several of the humans will take another ship to Gor. Lift your hands to them, and board."

And so hands were lifted, and then Cabot, and Grendel, preceding Peisistratus, entered the lock, which was then closed, behind them, and, in moments, they were within the ship.

"The capsules, below, are empty,” said Cabot.

"After our departure from Gor,” said Peisistratus, “we will make planetfall on Earth. We will stay there as briefly as possible, for little longer than it takes to fill the capsules, as my men do not care to spend much time there, given its various pollutions and poisons."

"With what are the capsules to be filled?” asked Grendel.

"With female slaves, of course,” said Peisistratus. “They have received something of a reprieve, it seems, given the sealing of the ports here, and the war, but that is over now."

"They suspect nothing?” said Grendel.

"Nothing,” said Peisistratus. “They do not yet know they are Gorean slaves."

"We are prepared to cast off?” said Cabot.

"Yes,” said Peisistratus, “momentarily. Have you chained your slave?"

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"I did not show you, in our small tour,” said Peisistratus, “as I saw no point in alerting your slave, but there are small chambers on the ship, furred and suitably equipped, where slaves may be ingeniously fastened for the pleasure of men."

"Excellent,” said Cabot.

"Now,” said Peisistratus, “I must to the bridge."

Shortly thereafter, scarcely noticeably, the ship left the dock, and took its course for the unspoiled, green, fertile world of Gor.

This tale is now finished.

I have entitled the tale, Kur of Gor . That seems to me an acceptable title. It is a tale of several individuals, and several events. It deals with a war, and honor, and friendship. Two individuals figure particularly in the story, one a human, interestingly, and one a Kur, or partly a Kur.

One is a member of an inferior species, or, perhaps more kindly put, a lesser species, the human, and the other is, when all is said and done, a monster, yet one who well served the world.

It is interesting that the shape of the world should have been to some extent a function of two such unlikely agents.

But the subtleties of the Nameless One are difficult to predict, and even to discern.

In any event I have tried, on the whole, to tell this story not only with some objectivity, but also with some sympathy, despite its unlikely protagonists.

I think we can learn something of the mysterious nature of the world in mysterious ways.

And so, are not both, despite the species in one case, and the genetic deformity in the other, in their way, worthy of being considered, say, in courage and honor, however surprisingly, Kur of Gor, and so the title of the tale.