Authors: John Norman
"The killer humans are not stupid,” said Grendel. “If the humans from the sport cylinder learn the bow, the arena humans will not be far behind."
"What are you thinking of?” asked Cabot.
"Of the cattle humans,” said Lord Grendel.
"They are dangerous only to one another,” said Cabot.
"Now,” said Lord Grendel.
Suddenly Grendel lifted his head, and his hand.
"What is it?” whispered Cabot. His bow was already strung, as was that of Lord Grendel, for they were on patrol.
"There,” said Lord Grendel, pointing.
Cabot saw nothing.
"There,” said Lord Grendel, again, softly, pointing.
Then Cabot saw the head, which now lifted from the tall grass, several feet ahead of them.
He drew the bow.
"No,” said Lord Grendel, putting out his paw, and Cabot lowered the bow.
"See,” said Lord Grendel, “she has no scarf, no purple scarf."
"She?” said Cabot.
"Certainly,” said Lord Grendel. “Can you not tell?"
The creature then approached, to within a few feet, and turned her head to the side, and snarled.
"Rather unpleasant,” said Cabot. “You are sure it is a female?"
"Certainly,” said Lord Grendel. “It is not large."
"I assure you,” said Cabot, “it is large enough."
"See the pelt,” said Lord Grendel, “the smoothness, the glossiness."
"Oh, yes, of course,” said Cabot.
"That is a beautiful Kur female,” said Lord Grendel.
"I am sure of it,” said Cabot.
"Note the fangs,” said Lord Grendel.
"Of course,” said Cabot, uneasily.
"She is a beauty,” said Lord Grendel.
"Indisputably,” said Cabot.
The creature then snarled, again, and lifted a paw, and claws sprang from it. She snarled, again.
"Lovely claws,” said Lord Grendel. “Sharp, too. One blow could take the face from a human."
"She is hostile,” said Cabot. “What are those things behind it?"
There were some shaggy shapes in the background, some yards behind the nearer creature, which was glaring at them.
"She does not seem much interested in me,” said Cabot.
"Perhaps she is not hungry,” said Grendel.
"That is a joke, I trust,” said Cabot.
"Certainly,” said Grendel. “Most Kurii do not even like human."
"Probably it is an acquired taste,” said Cabot.
"Possibly,” said Grendel.
"She is looking at you,” said Cabot.
Lord Grendel handed his bow to Cabot, and slipped the quiver from his shoulder.
The Kur snarled again, viciously.
"She thinks I am a nondominant,” said Lord Grendel.
"Why is that?” asked Cabot.
"Probably because I am with a human, and one not leashed."
"I see,” said Cabot.
"She is thinking of adding me to her retinue of nondominants."
"Her harem?” asked Cabot.
"No,” said Lord Grendel, “to her retinue, her collection, her flock, her gaggle, her band, her small group of despised servitors. They are nondominants."
"It is not a harem?” asked Cabot.
"No,” said Lord Grendel. “It is not a sexual matter, but a social arrangement. You are familiar with pleasure gardens, harems, and such, I take it."
"Surely,” said Cabot.
"The females there,” he said, “are used for sport, and sexual pleasure, are they not?"
"Certainly,” said Cabot. “We use them as we will, frequently, and in a variety of ways, and get much pleasure from them."
"A Kur dominant,” said Lord Grendel, “similarly, may keep one or more females, but what you see before you is very different. She would die before she would allow a nondominant to touch her, let alone seed her. Indeed, one who had such a thought, she might kill."
"A pleasant creature,” said Cabot. “She has a rope."
The creature had unlooped from her harness several loops of soft, and pliant, but stout rope.
"She thinks to put the rope on my neck,” said Grendel, “and thus add me to her servitors."
"I see,” said Cabot, uneasily.
"Surely you recognize her,” said Grendel.
"No,” said Cabot, puzzled.
"From the arena,” he said. “There were two females, do you not remember, who were to compete for seeding by the dominant male, he with rings, and she was the one who lost."
"It is the same one?” said Cabot. “You are sure?"
"Certainly,” said Lord Grendel.
"Perhaps her defeat still rankles with her,” said Cabot.
"I would suppose so,” said Lord Grendel.
"She was almost killed, as well,” said Cabot.
"Some are killed,” said Lord Grendel.
"I would not turn on the translator,” said Lord Grendel. “You might not like this."
"Very well,” said Cabot.
"Do not interfere,” said Lord Grendel.
"Very well,” said Cabot.
The Kur approached Grendel, snarling, and bared her fangs. Her face was but inches from his, and she suddenly hissed at him, fiercely. Cabot noted the other Kurii behind her, at this sign of rage, or displeasure, or whatever it might be, drew back, timidly.
Grendel had shown no response to this action on the part of the female.
She bared her fangs, and hissed again, viciously.
Again Grendel did not react.
She backed away, a foot, and regarded Grendel. Perhaps he was terrified into immobility? A grimace, a Kur smile, shown about her jaws. She would add another despised weakling, another despised servitor, to her timorous, obsequious attendants. She stepped forward, and lifted a loop of the rope, to sling it about Lord Grendel's neck, but suddenly, his arms lifted, claws protruding, he uttered a roar that was unexpected, hideous, and terrible, like nothing that Cabot had ever heard, and Cabot fell back, startled.
It was as though a volcano might have burst forth at his elbow; thundering with rage.
The entire form of Lord Grendel seemed then to enlarge and become transformed. Fur crackled outward, increasing his already massive stature; his large, pointed ears were flattened back like smooth knives against the sides of his head; his enormous jaws were open, and reaching forward; his fangs were spread in width better than a foot; his eyes were as kindled furnaces.
The female Kur drew back, frightened, and was then small, crouching before him.
She began to tremble, uncontrollably.
She had unwittingly insulted a dominant.
Grendel seized her in one paw and dragged her to him, and, with his other paw, struck her head upward and back, exposing her throat, and he set his fangs across her throat, and Cabot knew well what might ensue.
He had seen more than one Kur head torn from its body by that grip.
Lord Grendel had warned him not to interfere, but that warning, as it turned out, was quite unnecessary. Cabot was no more tempted to interfere than he would have been tempted to leap between enraged, tangled larls.
Grendel's fangs half in her throat, her body helpless in his grasp, the Kur female, trembling and squirming, began to utter a piteous succession of tiny, urgent, plaintive noises.
At this point Cabot was much tempted to turn on his translator, but he refrained from doing so.
Among Kurii a mortal insult, usually followed by one or more deaths, is to accuse another Kur of being a nondominant.
To be sure, this insult is usually issued by one male Kur to another.
Grendel's jaws then closed a little more, and Cabot fully expected to see pounding, driven, surging blood, released, suddenly gush and spatter forth, drenching Lord Grendel and the grass for yards about, spurting from the opened throat of a half-severed head.
Cabot noted that the nondominants hung back, crouching down, save for one who stood half erect, watching, but making no move to interfere.
Such creatures could always attach themselves, in their parasitic way, to another female.
But Grendel did not tear her head from her.
He removed his fangs from her throat. Cabot noted their tips were bright with blood.
He then arranged the trembling, shaken female before him, held her up with one paw, for she might, in terror and weakness, have fallen, and, with his other paw, lashed her face back and forth, snapping it from side to side. Her eyes were wide, and frightened. Blood was about her mouth, from the blows. Such blows might easily have broken the neck of a human female. He then took her and threw her to the grass, contemptuously, to the side.
Most of the nondominants in the background, then began to file away. Their female had been beaten, and was now nothing. She had been reduced to the status of a Kur female in the presence of a dominant.
Lord Grendel then turned away from her, but she began to whimper, and moan, and whine, and he turned angrily to face her.
She couched down, whimpering, making herself small before him.
He went to her and, with one clawed foot, thrust her contemptuously down to the grass. He then, as she lay there at his feet, whimpering, kicked her, twice, and again turned away from her.
He was a dominant, and he had been displeased by her, a mere female.
She called out something, softly, urgently, piteously, pleadingly, in Kur. Cabot's translator was not activated.
Lord Grendel, half crouched down, turned to face her, and she crawled to his feet, and put her head down to his feet, submissively, and with her long, dark tongue, began to lick them.
"She is making amends, I gather,” said Cabot.
"Turn on the translator,” said Grendel, and Cabot did so.
But then she was whimpering, not speaking, her body trembling, her head still down, to Lord Grendel's feet.
"Speak,” said Lord Grendel to the she-Kur before him.
"An animal is present,” she said.
"Speak,” repeated Lord Grendel.
"Before a human?” came from Cabot's translator.
"Yes,” said Grendel.
"You would so shame me?” she said.
"Speak or not, as you wish,” said Grendel.
"Are these things not our secret?” she asked.
"Speak or not, as you wish,” said Grendel.
She then lifted her head to him. “Be my master,” she said.
"Why?” asked Grendel. “You are of little interest. You are coarse, gross, and plain."
Cabot was surprised at this assessment, given Lord Grendel's earlier remarks, though, as a human, he was not disinclined to agree.
"Many males have sought me,” she said.
"The world,” said Lord Grendel, “is filled with fools."
"I will do my best to please you,” she said.
"Or any male,” said Lord Grendel.
"Yes,” she said, “I now know they are my masters."
"Why is that?” asked Lord Grendel.
"Because I am a female,” she said.
"I doubt that you would make a good submissive,” said Lord Grendel.
"I will be the most submissive of all submissives,” she said. “I cannot now help that."
"Turn about, and get on your belly,” said Lord Grendel.
The Kur obeyed, instantly.
Lord Grendel then, with her own rope, fastened her hands behind her back, pulled her to her feet, and wrapped the rope, in several coils, about her body, and then, with the same rope, fashioned a leash for her.
This was much what had been done with her former rival, the victorious she-Kur in the arena, before she had been led forth from the sand.
Lord Grendel then led the she-Kur some yards through the grass, so that she would know herself so led, helpless, on a male's leash.
He then stopped, and turned about, and regarded that Kur who had lingered, who had not departed with the others.
"Approach,” said Lord Grendel to the Kur, and he advanced, until he stood four or five yards away, in the grass.
"Do you want a female?” he asked him.
"Yes,” he said.
Nondominants, of course, are forbidden females. They are often regarded as the fourth Kur sex, the others being the males, females, and wombs. Yet the matter is ambivalent, for at times, particularly in the absence of dominants, a nondominant becomes not only capable of reproductive activity, but becomes a dominant. This transformation, too, occasionally, though rarely, takes place almost spontaneously. Even we do not fully understand this. The change, perhaps, has less to do with physiology than decision, and will. The matter is obscure, even for us.
"Take this one,” said Lord Grendel, tossing the loose end of the rope leash to the other Kur.
The she-Kur looked at Lord Grendel, wildly, but was helpless.
She strained in her bonds.
"I love another,” said Lord Grendel, to her. Then to the other Kur he said, “She is yours."
The other Kur jerked the female to him, she stumbling. He held her by the leash, closely, and looked down upon her. He was considerably larger than the female, and he seemed now much taller and broader, and more robust, than he had but minutes before. But minutes before he had not been a dominant. But minutes before he had not owned a female.
He kicked her feet out from under her, and she fell to the grass.
"Belly!” said he to her. “Obeisance!"
She went to her belly before him, and squirmed to his feet, which she then began to caress, frightened, with her long, dark, tongue.
He lifted his head and howled with pleasure, and she shuddered. Cabot wondered if he had not waited long for this moment. How long, Cabot wondered, had this Kur sensed the dominant latent within him?
The Kur then placed one large, clawed foot on the back of the bellied she-Kur, pinning her to the grass. Her leash looped up to his hand.
"What cause do you favor?” inquired the Kur of Lord Grendel.
"You see we wear no purple scarves,” said Lord Grendel.
"You wear no scarves at all,” said the Kur.
"Nor do you,” said Lord Grendel.
"I was unable to fight,” said the Kur.
"Now you are able,” said Lord Grendel.
"What cause is yours?” he inquired.
"That of Lord Arcesilaus,” said Lord Grendel.
"Then that, too, is my cause,” said the Kur.
"It is a cause with ill prospects,” said Lord Grendel.
"So much the better,” said the Kur.
"Why is that?” asked Cabot.
"To perish while grievously outnumbered,” said Lord Grendel, “is glorious."