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  Savages of Gor

  ( Chronicles of Counter-Earth - 17 )

  John Norman

  The Kur came to Port Kar! Two of the terrible space beasts came to make Tarl Cabot an offer. They, a death-squad, sought the renegade Kur commander, the great Half Ear, whom Tarl had once battled in the Far North.

  But Tarl refused their offer, for Half Ear was more valuable to the Priest-Kings alive than to the Kur dead. And now he knew it was imperatible for him to save that monster from the doom that would fast over take him.

  This meant venturing into the forbidden Barrens of Gor-a vast land of plains and praries whose cruel masters were tribes of savage red riders and where civilized men were always prey and their women were mere trophies of the hunt!

  SAVAGES OF GOR

  (Volume seventeen in the Chronicles of Counter-Earth)

  by John Norman

  1 Kog and Sardak; The Parley in the Delta

  "How many are there?" I asked Samos.

  "Two." he said.

  "Are they alive?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said.

  At the second Ahn, long before dawn, the herald of Samos had come to the lakelike courtyard of my holding in many-canalled Port Kar, that place of manyships, scourge of Thassa, that dark jewel in her gleaming green waters. Twicehas he struck the bars of the sea gate, each time with the Ka-la-na shaft of hisspear, not with the side of its broad tapering bronze point. The signet ring, ofSamos of Port Kar, first captain of the council of captains, was displayed. Iwould be roused. The morning, in early Spring, was chilly.

  "Does Tyros move?" I asked blond-haired Thurnock, that giant of a man, he ofpeasants, who had come to rouse me.

  "I think not, Captain," said he.

  The girl beside me pulled the furs up about her throat, frightened.

  "Have ships of Cos been sighted?" I asked.

  "I do not think so, Captain," said he.

  There was a sound of chain beside me. The chain had moved against the collarring of the girl beside me. Beneath the furs she was naked. The chain ran fromthe slave ring at the foot of my couch, a heavy chain, to the, thick metalcollar fastened on her neck.

  "It is not, then, on the business of Port Kar that he comes?" I had asked.

  "I think perhaps not, Captain," said Thurnock. "I think that the matters have todo with business other than that of Port Kar."

  The small tharlarion-oil lamp he held illuminated his bearded face as he stoodnear the door.

  "It has been quiet," I said, "for too long."

  "Captain?" he asked.

  "Nothing," I said.

  "It is early," whispered the girl next to me.

  "You were not given permission to speak," I told her.

  "Forgive me, Master," she said.

  I threw back the heavy furs on the great stone couch. Quickly the girl pulled upher legs and turned on her side. I, sitting up, looked down at her, trying tocover herself from the sight of Thurnock. I pulled her then beneath me. "Ohh," she breathed.

  "You will grant him, then, an audience?" asked Thurnock.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Oh," said the girl. "Ohh!"

  Now, as she lay, the small, fine brand high on her left thigh, just below thehip, could be seen. I had put it there myself, at my leisure, once in Ar.

  "Master, may I speak?" she begged.

  "Yes," I said.

  "One is present," she said. "Another is present!"

  "Be silent," I told her.

  "Yes, my Master," she said.

  "You will be there shortly?" asked Thurnock.

  "Yes," I told him. "Shortly."

  The girl looked wildly over my shoulder, toward Thurnock. Then she clutched me,her eyes closed, shuddering, and yielded. When again she looked to Thurnock shedid so as a yielded slave girl, pinned in my arms.

  "I shall inform the emissary of Samos that you will be with him in moments," said Thurnock.

  "Yes," I told him.

  He then left the room, putting the tharlarion-oil lamp on a shelf near the door.

  I looked down into the eyes of the girl, held helplessly in my arms.

  "What a slave you made me," she said.

  "You are a slave," I told her.

  "Yes, my Master," she said.

  "You must grow accustomed to your slavery, in all its facets," I told her.

  "Yes, my Master," she said.

  I withdrew from her then, and sat on the edge of the couch, the furs about me.

  "A girl is grateful that she was touched by her Master," she said.

  I did not respond. A slave's gratitude is nothing, as are slaves.

  "It is early," she whispered.

  "Yes," I said.

  "It is very cold," she said.

  "Yes," I said. The coals in the brazier to the left of the great stone couch hadburned out during the night. The room was damp, and cold, from the night air,and from the chin from the courtyard and canals. The walls, of heavy stone, too,saturated with the chilled, humid air, would be cold and damp, and the defensivebars set in the narrow windows, behind the buckled leather hangings. On my feetI could feel the dampness and moisture on the tiles. I did not give herpermission to draw back under the covers, nor was she so bold or foolish as torequest that permission. I had been lenient with her this night. I had not slepther naked on the tiles beside the couch, with only a sheet for warmth, nor nakedat the foot of the couch, with only a chain for comfort.

  I rose from the couch and went to a bronze basin of cold water at the side ofthe room. I squatted beside it and splashed the chilled water over my face andbody.

  "What does it mean, my Master," asked the girl, "that one from the house ofSamos, first captain in Port Kar, comes so early, so secretly, to the house ofmy Master?"

  "I do not know," I said. I toweled myself dry, and turned to look upon her. Shelay on her left elbow, on the couch, the chain running from her collar to thesurface of the couch, and thence to the slave ring fixed deeply in its base.

  Seeing my eyes upon her she then knelt on the surface of the couch, kneelingback an her heels, spreading her knees, straightening her back, lifting herhead, and putting her hands on her thighs. It is a common kneeling position fora female slave.

  "If you knew, you would not tell me, would you?" she asked.

  "No," I said.

  "I am a slave," she said.

  "Yes," I said.

  "You had me well," she said, "and as a slave."

  "It is fitting," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  I then returned to the couch, and sat upon its edge. She then left the couch,that she might kneel on the tiles before me. I looked down at her. How beautifulare enslaved women.

  "Perhaps," I said, "you might speculate on what business brings the emissary ofSamos of Port Kar to my house this morning?"

  "I, Master?" she asked, frightened.

  "Yes," I said. "You once served Kurii, the Others, the foes of Priest-Kings."

  "I told all that I knew," she exclaimed. "I told all in the dungeons of Samos! Iwas terrified! I held back nothing! I was emptied of information!"

  "You were then valueless," I said.

  "Except, perhaps, as I might please a man as a slave," she said.

  "Yes," I smiled.

  Samos himself had issued the order of enslavement on her. In Ar I had presentedthe document to her and shortly thereafter, as it pleased me, implemented itsprovisions. She had once been Miss Elicia Nevins, of Earth, an agent of Kurii onGor. Then, in Ar, a city from which once I had been banished, I had caught andenslaved her. In those compartments which had been her own in Ar she had becomemy capture, and had been stripped and placed in my bonds. In her owncompartments, then, at my leisure, I had branded her and locked on her fa
irthroat the gleaming, inflexible circlet of bondage. Before the fall of darkness,and my escape, I had had time, too, to pierce her ears, that the full degree ofher degradation and slavery, in the Gorean way of thinking, be made most clear.

  To Gorean eyes the piercing of the ears, this visible set of wounds, inflictedto facilitate the mounting of sensual and barbaric ornamentations, iscustomarily regarded as being tantamount, for most practical purposes, to asentence of irrevocable bondage. Normally ear- piercing is done only to thelowest and most sensuous of slaves. It is regarded, by most Goreans, as beingfar more humiliating and degrading to a woman than the piercing of a girl'sseptum and the consequent fastening on her of a nose ring. Indeed, such anaperture does not even show. Some slave girls, of course, are fixed for both.

  Their masters, thus, have the option of ornamenting their lovely properties asthey please. It might be mentioned that nose rings are favored in some areasmore than in others, and by some peoples more than others. On behalf of the nosering, too, it should be mentioned that among the Wagon Peoples, even free womenwear such rings. This, however, is unusual on Gor. The nose ring, most often, isworn by a slave.

  These rings, incidentally, those for the ears and for the nose, do not servesimply to bedeck the female. They also have a role to play in her arousal. Thebrushing of the sides of the girl's neck by the dangling ornament is, in itself,a delicate stimulation of a sensitive area of her body, the sides of her neckbeneath the ears; this area is quite sensitive to light touches; if the earringis of more than one piece, the tiny sounds made by it, too, can also bestimulatory; accordingly, the earring's feel and movement, and caress, andsometimes sound, persistent, subtle and sensual, functioning on both a consciousand subliminate level, can often bring a female to, and often keep herindefinitely in, a state of incipient sexual readiness. It is easy to see whyfree women on Gor do not wear them, and why they are, commonly, only put on lowslaves. Similar remarks hold, too, of course, for the nose ring, which touches,lightly, the very sensitive area of a girl's upper lip. The nose ring, too, ofcourse, makes clear to the girl that she is a domestic animal. Many domesticanimals on Gor wear them.

  The girl kneeling before me, once Elicia Nevins, once the lofty, beautiful andproud agent of Kurii, now only my lovely slave, reached for my sandals. Shepressed them to her lips, kissing them, and then, head down, began to tie themon my feet. She was quite beautiful, kneeling before me, performing this lowlytask, the heavy iron collar and chain on her neck.

  I wondered what the emissary of Samos might wish.

  "Your sandals are tied, Master," said the girl, lifting her, head, kneelingback.

  I regarded her. It is pleasant to own a woman.

  "Of what are you thinking, Master?" she asked.

  "I was thinking," I said, "of the first time that I put you to my pleasure. Doyou recall it?"

  "Yes, Master," she said. "I have never forgotten. And it was not only the firsttime that you put me to your pleasure. It was the first time that any man hadput me to his pleasure."

  "As I recall," I said, "you yielded well, for a new slave."

  "Thank you, Master," she said. "And while you were waiting for darkness, toescape the city, whiling away the time, you made me yield again and again."

  "Yes," I said. I had then, after the fall of darkness, deeming it thenreasonably safe, bound her naked, belly up, over the saddle of my tarn and,eluding patrols, escaped from the city. I had brought her back to Port Kar,where I had thrown her, a bound slave, to the feet of Samos. He had had her putin one of his girl dungeons, where we had interrogated her. We had learned much.

  After she had been emptied of information she might then be bound naked andthrown to the urts in the canals, or, perhaps, if we wished, kept as a slave.

  She was comely. I had had her hooded and brought to my house. When she wasunhooded she found herself at my feet.

  "Are you grateful that you were spared?" I asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said, "and particularly that you have seen fit to keep me, ifonly for a time, as your own slave."

  Nothing so fulfills a woman as her own slavery.

  After I had used her, I had put her with my other women. Most of these areavailable to my men, as well as to myself.

  "A girl is grateful," she said, "that this night you had her chained to yourslave ring."

  "Who is grateful?" I asked.

  "Elicia is grateful," she said.

  "Who is Elicia?" I asked.

  "I am Elicia," she said. "That is the name my Master has seen fit to give me."

  I smiled. Slaves, no more than other animals, do not have names in their ownright. They are named by the Master. She wore her former name, but now only as aslave name, and by my decision.

  I stood up, and drew about me one of the furs from the couch. I went to the sideof the room and, with a belt, belted the fur about me. Also, from the wall, fromits peg, I took down the scabbard with its sheathed short sword. I removed theblade from the scabbard and wiped it on the fur I had belted about me. I thenreinserted the blade in the scabbard. The blade is wiped to remove moisture fromit. Most Gorean scabbards are not moisture proof, as this would entail eithertoo close a fit for the blade or an impeding flap. I slung the scabbard strapover my left shoulder, in the Gorean fashion. In this way the scabbard, theblade once drawn, may be discarded, with its strap, which accouterments,otherwise, might constitute an encumbrance in combat. On marches, incidentallyand in certain other contexts, the strap, which is adjustable, is usually putover the right shoulder. This minimizes slippage in common and recurrent motion.

  In both cases, of course, for a right-handed individual, the scabbard is at theleft hip, facilitating the convenient and swift across-the-body draw.

  I then went again to the side of the fur-strewn, great stone couch, at the sideof which, on the, tiles, chained by the neck, knelt the beautiful slave.

  I stood before her.

  She lowered herself to her belly and, holding my ankles gently with her hands,covered my feet with kisses. Her lips, and her tongue, were warm and wet.

  "I love you, my Master," she said, "and I am yours."

  I stepped back from her. "Go to the foot of the couch," I told her, "and curlthere."

  "Yes, Master," she said. She then, on her hands and knees, crawled to the footof the couch and, drawing up her legs, curled there on the cold tiles.

  When I went to the door, I stopped and looked back, once, at her. She, curledthere on the cold, damp tiles, at the foot of the couch, the chain on her neck,regarded me.

  The only light in the room was from the tiny tharlarion-oil lamp which, earlier,Thurnock had placed on the shelf near the door.

  "I love you, my Master," she said, "and I am yours."

  I then turned about and left the room. In a few Ahn, near dawn, men would cometo the room and free her, and then, later, put her to work with the other women.

  "How many are there?" I asked Samos.

  "Two," he said.

  "Are they alive?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said.

  "This seems an unpropitious place for a meeting," I said. We were in the remainsof a half-fallen, ruined tarn complex, built on a wide platform, at the edge ofthe rence marshes, some four pasangs from the northeast delta gate of Port Kar.

  In climbing to the platform, and in traversing it, the guards with us, who hadnow remained outside, had, with the butts of their spears, prodded more than onesinuous tharlarion from the boards, the creature then plunging angrily, hissing,into the marsh. The complex consisted of a tarn cot, now muchly open to the sky,with an anterior building to house supplies and tam keepers. It had beenabandoned for years. We were now within the anterior building. Through theruined roof, between unshielded beams, I could see patches of the night sky ofGor, and one of her three moons. Ahead, where a wall had mostly fallen, I couldsee the remains of the large tarn cot. At one time it had been a huge, convex,cage like lacing of mighty branches, lashed together, a high dome of fastened,interwoven wood, but now, a
fter years of disrepair, and the pelting of rains andthe tearings of winds, little remained of this once impressive and intricatestructure but the skeletal, arched remnants of its lower portions.

  "I do not care for this place," I said.

  "It suits them," said Samos.

  "It is too dark," I said, "and the opportunities for surprise and ambush are tooabundant."

  "It suits them," said Samos.

  "Doubtless," I said.

  "I think we are in little danger," he said. "Too, guards are about."

  "Could we not have met in your holding?" I asked.

  "Surely you could not expect such things to move easily about among men?" askedSamos.

  "No," I granted him.

  "I wonder if they know we are here," said Samos.

  "If they are alive," I said, "they will know."

  "Perhaps," said Samos.

  "What is the purpose of this parley?" I asked.

  "I do not know," said Samos.

  "Surely it is unusual for such things to confer with men," I said.

  "True," granted Samos. He looked about himself, at the dilapidated, ramshacklebuilding. He, too, did not care overly much for his surroundings.

  "What can they want?" I wondered.

  "I do not know," said Samos.

  "They must, for some reason, want the help of men," I speculated.

  "That seems incredible," said Samos.

  "True," I said.

  "Could it be," asked Samos, "that they have come to sue for peace?"

  "No," I said.

  "How can you know that?" asked Samos.

  "They are too much like men," I said.

  "I shall light the lantern," said Samos. He crouched down and extracted a tinyfire-maker from his pouch, a small device containing a tiny reservoir oftharlarion oil, with a tharlarion-oil-impregnated wick, to be ignited by aspark, this generated from the contact of a small, ratcheted steel wheel, spunby a looped thumb handle, with a flint splinter.

  "Need this meeting have been so secret?" I asked.

  "Yes," said Samos.

  We had come to this place, through the northeast delta gate, in a squarish,enclosed barge. It was only through slatted windows that I had been able tofollow our passage. Any outside the barge, on the walkways along the canals, forexample, could not have viewed its occupants. Such barges, though with the slatslocked shut, are sometimes used in the transportation of female slaves, thatthey may not know where in the city they are, or where they are being taken. Asimilar result is obtained, usually, more simply, in an open boat, the girlsbeing hooded and bound hand and foot, and then being thrown between the feet ofthe rowers.