Kajira of Gor (51 page)

“I do not refuse to testify,” said Drusus Rencius.

Men looked at one another.

“Let me then repeat my question,” said Miles of Argentum. “Is she whom you

believed to be the Tatrix of Corcyrus, she whom you identified as the Tatrix in

Corcyrus itself, before the very throne of Corcyrus, in this room?”

“Yes,” said Drustis Rencius.

“Would you please point her out?” asked Miles.

Drusus Rencius pointed to me. “That is she,” he said.

“Thank you,” said Miles.

‘The matter is done,” said a man.

“In making this identification,” said Drusus Rencius, “I do no more than

acknowledge that I was once the dupe of Ligurious. Can you not see? He is making

fools of us all!”

Ligurious looked down, as though grieved by some irresponsible and absurd

outburst.

“By the love I bear you, and by the love you bear me,” said Drusus Rencius to

Miles, “hear me out. That woman is not the Tatrix! She sat upon the throne! She

appeared in public as the Tatrix! She sat in court as the Tatrix! She conducted

business as the Tatrix! She was known as the Tatrix! But she was not the

Tatrix!”

“Lets not ignore the evidence,” said Miles of Argentum. “The evidence, some of

which you yourself have presented, clearly indicates that she is the Tatrix What

sort of evidence would you wish? How do we know, for example, that you are

really Drusus Rencius, a captain from Ar? Or that I am Miles, a general from

Argentum? Or that he is Ligurious, who was the first minister in Corcyrus? How

do we know anyone in this room is who we think? Perhaps we are all victims of

some elaborate and preposterous hoax! But the question here is not one of

knowledge in some almost incomprehensible or absolute sense but of rational

certainty. And it is clear beyond a doubt, clear to the point of rational

certainty, that that was the Tatrix of Corcyrusl”

There was applause in the room.

“I recall an earlier witness,” said Miles of Argentum, “my slave, Susan.”

“Master?” she asked, frightened.

“In your opinion, Susan,” he asked, “did the shorter-haired slave, she kneeling

there in chains, she whom you served, regard herself as Sheila, the Tatrix of

Corcyrus.”

“Yes, Master,” whispered Susan, her head down.

I, too, put my head down before the free men, the masters. It was true. I had

regarded myself as Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus. Indeed, even now, there was a

painful ambiguity in my mind in this matter. I supposed that, in a sense, I was

a Sheila, who had been a Tatrix in Corcyrus. I was, I supposed, one of the two

Sheilas, who, in their different ways, had been Tatrix there. I knew, of course,

that I was not the true Sheila, or, at least, the important Sheila, the Sheila

in whom they were particularly interested. I, too, in my way, had been a mere

dupe of Ligurious.

“She herself,” said Miles of Argentum, “regarded herself as the Tatrix of

Corcyrus. She accepted herself as that! She did not deny it or dispute it! Why

not? Because that is who she was!”

“No!” cried Drusus Rencius.

“Why do you think she was not the Tatrix of Corcyrus?” asked Miles.

“I do not know,” cried Drusus Rencius. “I just know!”

“Come now, Captain,” said Miles, patronizingly.

“I know her,” said Drusus Rencius, angrily. “I have known her from Corcyrus. She

is petty, and belongs in a collar, and under the whip, but she is not the sort

of woman who could have committed the enormities and outrages of the Tatrix of

Corcyrus. Such things are not in her!”’

“Has the good captain from Ar,” inquired Miles, “permitted the glances, the

smiles, the curvaceous interests of a woman to sway his judgment?”

“No,” said Drusus Rencius. -

“I think you have succumbed to the charms of a slave,” said Miles.

“No!” said Drusus Rencius.

“She has made you weak,” said Miles.

“No!” said Drusus Rencius.

I looked at Drusus Rencius. I was only a naked slave, and In chains, How could I

make such a man weak?

“The evidence is clear,” said Miles of Argentum to the Ubar, Claudius, to the

members of the high council, to the others in the room. “I rest my case.” He

then pointed to me. “Behold she who was the Tatrix of Corcyrus!”

There was much applause in the room. Drusus Rencius turned angrily away. He

stood to one side, his fists clenched.

“That is not the one whom the sleen selected,” said Hassan.

Drusus Rencius spun about. “True!” he said.

“May I speak?” inquired Ligurious.

“Speak,” said Claudius

“I anticipated some difficulty in the matter of the sleen,” he said. “First of

all, we must understand that the sleen are merely following a scent. They

recognize a scent, of course, but not know, in a formal or legal sense, whose

scent they are following. For example, a sleen can certainly recognize the scent

of its master but it, being an animal, does not know, of course, whether its

master is, say, a peasant or a Ubar. Indeed, many sleen, whereas they will

respond to their own names, do not even know the names of their masters. I am

sure the type of point I am making is well understood. Accordingly, let us

suppose we now wish a sleen to locate someone, say, a Tatrix. We do not tell the

sleen to look for a Tatrix. We give the sleen something which, supposedly, bears

the scent of the Tatrix, and then the sleen follows that scent, no differently

than it might the scent of a wild tarsk or a yellow-pelted tabuk. The crucial

matter then is whether the sleen is set upon the proper scent or not. Now

fifteen hundred gold pieces is a great deal of money. Can we not imagine the

possibility, where so much money is at stake, that a woman closely resembling

the Tatrix, as this woman, for example, might be selected as a quarry in a

fraudulent hunt. It would not be difficult then, in one fashion or another, to

set sleen upon her trail. A scrap of clothing would do, a bit of bedding, even

the scent of a footprint. The innocent woman is then captured and, later,

presented in a place such as this, the reward then being claimed.”

Claudius, the Ubar of Argentum, turned to Hassan. “Your integrity as a hunter

has been impugned,” he said.

All eyes were upon Hassan.

“I am not touchy on such matters,” said Hassan. “I am not a warrior. I am a

businessman. I recognize the right of Claudius and the high council to

assurances in these matters. Indeed, it is their duty, in so far as they can, to

protect Argentum against deception and fraud. Much of what Ligurious, the former

first minister of Corcyrus, has told you is true, for example, about sleen, and

their limitations and utilities. These are, even, well-known facts. The crucial

matter, then, would seem to be the authenticity of the articles used to provide

the original scent. When I was in Corcyrus and I received from Menicius, her

Administrator, clothing which had been worn by the Tatrix, I divided it into two

bundles and had each sealed with the seal of Corcyrus. A letter to this effect,

signed by Menicius, and bearing, too, the seal of Corcyrus, I also obtained. One

of these bundles I broke open in Ar, and used it to locate and capture the

former Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

“She whom you claim is the former Tatrix,” said Ligurious.

“Yes,” said Hassan.

“Do you still have the second bundle, unopened, and the letter from Menicius,

Administrator of Corcyrus, in your possession?” asked Claudius of Hassan.

“I anticipated these matters might be sensitive,” said Hassan. “Yes.”

Hassan was truly a professional hunter. I had heard the name ‘Menicius’

somewhere before, but I could not place it.

He, whoever he might be, was now apparently Administrator in Corcyrus.

Claudius regarded Hassan.

“I will fetch them,” said Hassan, rising to his feet.

“I, too, have clothing from Corcyrus,” said Ligurious, “but it is authentic

clothing, clothing actually once worn by the true Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

“Please be so kind as to produce it in evidence,” said Claudius.

“I will be back shortly,” said Ligurious.

“Bring guard sleen and meat,” said Claudius to one of the guards in the room.

In a few Ehn Hassan and Ligurius bad returned. Too, but moments later, two

sleen, with keepers’, had entered the’ hall. The feast slaves and dancers shrank

back against the walls. Such beasts are used to hunt slaves.

I, too, shrank back, fearfully, in my chains. I, too, was a slave.

“As you will note,” said Hassan to Claudius and the high council, “the seal on

this bundle has not been broken. Here, too, is the letter from Menicius.”

The letter was examined. Claudius himself then broke the seal on the bundle and

handed clothing to one of the sleen keepers. One soldier came and crouched down

behind me, holding me from the back by the upper arms. Another so served Sheila,

to my left. We were not to be permitted to move from our places. I saw one of

the keepers holding the clothing beneath the snout of one of the sinuous,

sixlegged beasts. The specific signals between masters and sleen, signals which,

in effect, convey such commands as “Attack,” “Hunt,” “Stop,” ‘Back,” and so on,

are usually verbal and private. Verbality is important as many times the sleen,

intent upon a scent, for exaniple, will not be looking at the master. The

privacy of ~he signals is important to guarantee that not just anyone can start

a sleen on a hunt or call one away from it. The signals to which they respond,

then, are idiosyncratic to the given beast. They are generally not unique;

however, to a given man and beast. For example, in an area where there are

several sleen and several keepers, the keepers are likely to know the signals

specific to the given beasts. In his fashion any beast may be controlled by any

of the associated trainers or keepers. These signals, too, are usually kept

written down somewhere. In this fashion, if a keeper should be slain, or change

the locus. of his employment, or something along those lines, the beast need not

be killed.

Suddenly the beast, on its chain leash, leapt towards us Sheila and I screamed,

pulling back. I actually felt the body of the beast, its oily fur, the muscles

and ribs beneath it, brush me, lunging past me. Sheila tried to scramble back,

wild in her chains, but, held, could not do so. She threw her head back, her

eyes closed, sobbing and screaming, begging the masters for mercy. The frenzied

sleen tried to reach Sheila Its claws scratched and slipped on the tiles. It

snapped and bit at her, its eyes blazing, its fangs, long, wild, white, moist,

curved, gleaming, were but inches from her enslaved beauty.

A word was spoken. The sleen drew back. It was thrown meat. Sheila, her eyes

glazed, hair before her face, looked numbly at the animal. She was still held by

the soldier. Had she not been I think she might have slumped to the tiles How

helpless we are, naked and in our chains, before masters. How they can do with

us whatever they wish!

“The clothing with which the sleen was put on the scent of the woman on our

right could have been imbued with her scent at any time, of course,” said

Ligurious. “For example, it could have been put in the sack with her for a

night, when she was being brought to Argentum. I have here, however and I now

break the seal, clothing which is actually that of the former Tatrix of

Corcyrus. See? Already she cringes and shrinks back. She knows that by this

clothing she will be exactly and incontrovertibly identified as the former true

Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

I watched in horror as Ligurious tossed the clothing, piece by piece, to one of

the sleen keepers.

One of the pieces was the brief, sashed, yellow-silk robe I had been fond of. It

was the first garment I had ever worn on Gor.

“That one garment,” said Miles of Argentum, indicating a scarlet robe, with a

yellow, braided belt, “appears to be that in which she put her curves on the day

of my audience with her, that having to do with the scrolls of protest.”

“It is,” Ligurious assured him.

I also saw there garments which looked like those I had worn to the song drama

with Drusus Rencius, and had worn later with him on the walls of Corcyrus.

“Surely you recognize that garment?” asked Ligurious, indicating a purple robe

with golden trim, and a golden belt. “Yes,” said Miles of Argentum. “That’ is

the garment she wore when she was captured.”

“By you,” said Ligurious.

“Yes, by me,” said Miles.

“But she did not wear it long, did she?” asked Ligurious. “No,” he grinned.

There was laughter from the tables.

I did not doubt but what these garments were genuine. The last garment, for

example, was undoubtedly really that which had been taken from me in the throne

room of Corcyrus, before the very throne itself, before I had been taken naked

and In chains outside, into the courtyard, to be placed in a golden cage. These

garments, Ligurious had informed me in the throne room of Argentum, before

placing me in the golden sack, from which I had been rescued by Drusus Rencius,

had been smuggled out of Corcyrus. He had probably paid much to obtain them.

The last pieces were all items of intimate feminine apparel, which had been worn