Authors: John Norman
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Adventure
like. In this case of the tarn one’s very life can depend on such things as
understanding its speed, its rate of climb, the sharpness of its turns, and so
on.
My lovely, half-naked, blindfolded servant cried out, flung back, her arms
almost straight, her small hands, the wrists braceleted closely together,
gripping the pommel.
The bird hovered well, arrested in flight.
The girl gasped and cried out again, in fear, her back almost horizontal as the
tarn climbed. The ascent was steep and swift. The air grew cold. Such a maneuver
is often useful. More than once it had carried me above adversaries, their
attack speed prohibiting so swift an adjustment in their trajectory. The girl
clung desperately to the pommel. She seemed very frightened, for some reason.
Too, now, clad as she was, in what was, in effect, no more than a curla and
chatka, fit garments for a slave, not a free woman, she must be very cold.
Doubtless she was in extreme discomfort. In a few Ehn I had established the
approximate ceiling of the bird. The earth seemed far below. I could see the
surface of a lake, like a shimmering puddle, to my right. I had not even
hitherto known it was there. On the left, far below, I could see the (pg.140)
Vosk Road, like a bright thread in the sun. “Please, let us go down. Let us
stop!” she wept.
“You are braceleted,” I told her. “Such matters are no longer within your
control.”
“Let us go down!” she wept.
“Are you cold?” I asked.
“Yes!” she wept. “But I am frightened, too! We are high, are we not?’
“Yes,” I said.
“Please, let us go down!” she begged.
“It was my mistake to let you ride in such honor,” I told her. “It is more
appropriate for a woman on tarnback to ride differently, to be tied across the
saddle on her back or belly, or, say, if she is one of a brace, perhaps
wrist-tied to one end of a shared rope thrown over the saddle, or, say, tied to
a ring at the side, this, too, providing a balance with the other captive.
“I am a free woman,” she said. “Surely you would not dare to tie me so.”
“I would think little of it,” I informed her.
She shuddered, though whether with the thought of this restraint which I might,
if I wished, impose upon her, or of cold, I do not know.
“Please, let us go down,” she said.
“What does your will mean?” I asked.
“Apparently it means nothing,” she said.
“Hold tightly, woman,” I said.
“’Woman’?” she said. Then she screamed, a long, wild, wailing scream, as the
tarn, responding to the four-strap, began a sudden, precipitous descent. With
one hand I kept her on the saddle. Her hair flew above us, trailing like a flag.
The tarn dove well. The swiftness of that descent is incredible. Its force, even
arrested at the last moment, can break the back of a full-grown tabuk. I let the
bird come within fifty yards of the earth before I reined back, and it swooped,
low, leveling, over the grass.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” she begged. “What are we doing! Where are we?”
“We are within a man’s height of the ground,” I said. In such flight one can use
the screening of a forest or of low hills, even buildings, to make an approach
to an objective. (pg.141) Too, of course, lower flight, in general, reduces the
possibilities of sightings.
“We are going too swiftly!” she said. “Please, stop!”
“It is better that you are blindfolded,” I said.
“What are you going to do?” she cried.
“One must try out a tarn,” I said/
“Monster!” she wept.
“Hold tightly,” I said.
She moaned. She hunched over the pommel, clinging to it, sobbing.
She screamed, suddenly, flung to the left, as I drew the two-strap and
three-strap at the same time, the tarn veering to the right. It was responsive.
I then tested it in a dozen ways, to speeds, to flights, to turns. The girl was
beside herself with fear. She sobbed, moaned, gasped, cried out, whimpered, and
screamed, in turn, in the darkness of the blindfold, clutching the pommel, as
the bird, obedient to the obligations of the harness, bent itself to his
maneuvers. I was well satisfied. It was a warrior’s mount, indeed.
“Please, please,” wept the girl.
I had now returned the tarn to the vicinity of the Crooked Tarn.
I then made three passes near the Crooked Tarn, two over the palisade, over the
tarn wire, and a third near its bridge and gate.
In the first pass I hovered the bird for a time, some fifty yards over a portion
of the court on the top of the palisaded plateau, one rather behind and to the
left of the main inn buildings, as one would face them, entering. There,
sitting, heavily chained to a sleen ring, its plate bolted into the stone,
wrists and ankles, fastened quite closely to it, was a large, naked, bearded
man, the burly fellow. I gathered he had not had the means wherewith to pay his
bill. Seeing me, he seemed somehow agitated, even extremely so. He could do
little more, however, than crouch, struggling, and pulling, at the ring, his
head back, his face upward. He was howling something, but I could not well hear
what he said. It is perhaps just as well. I did wave the pouch on its strap to
him, cheerily, before proceeding onward, to make the second pass. He did not
seem pleased with matters. I supposed I could not, in fairness, blame him.
(pg.144) In my second pass I hovered near the front of the inn building on the
left, as one would enter. It was there that several sets of chains had enjoyed
the possession of fair occupants, whose names, as I had learned in the paga
room, all from the Lady Temione, were Rimice, Klio and Liomache, all from Cos,
Elene, from Tyros, and Amina, a citizeness of Venna. These chains were now
empty. I had taken the liberty early this morning, acting through my agent, a
sutler, a splendid, if somewhat put-upon and long-suffering chap, whose name was
Ephialtes, to redeem them all, my expenses in the matter, 182 C.T. for the five
of them, being considerably defrayed by means of the loot I had acquired from
the gang of Andron the evening before.
Doubtless they were initially delighted to find that they had been redeemed.
Perhaps they had laughed and clapped their hands with joy. Their delight,
however, had doubtless been tempered somewhat by finding their necks were being
put in iron collars, collars on a chain. As I briefly hovered there, over the
court, I could see, too, partly to my irritation, and partly to my amusement, to
one side, some additional evidence of the business acumen of the keeper. He had
not simply permitted the women to be redeemed. He had gotten something of value
from them, perhaps as a penalty fee, or as something in the way of compensation
for the inconvenience they had caused him, over and above the amount of their
unpaid bills. There, to one side, on a rack, long and lovely, hung pelts of
female hair. Such, as I have mentioned, particularly in time of siege, though
there is always a market for it on Gor, is highly prized for the making of
catapult ropes. I had little doubt that the fellow, given my suppositions as to
his probably thoroughness in such matters, would not even have had the
graciousness to shear the heads of the ladies. In shearing, you see, one might
lose a fifth of a hort or so of hair. doubtless he had had their heads shaved.
Many girls will strive hard to please, for example, to be permitted to keep
their hair, or to be permitted to let it grow out again. There were six pelts on
the rack. The sixth was a lengthy and lovely auburn. I had also, by means of
Ephialtes, redeemed Lady Temione. Her redemption had cost me a silver tarsk,
five. This was expensive, but she would look well on her knees, collared. All
told then, at the exchange (pg.143) rate of 100 C.T. per silver tarsk, the women
had cost me two silver tarsk, 87 C.T. These women were now, if all had gone
well, on their way to Ar’s Station, probably chained behind, and attached to,
the wagon of Ephialtes. The shaving of their heads would doubtless lower their
value, but I did not object, because I was not particularly concerned with
whether I made a profit on them or not. That was not their essential role in my
plans. Indeed, if their heads were shaved, that might be just as well. That
might suggest that they had come into the keeping of an exploitable fellow, one
in desperate need of funds.
On the third flight in the vicinity of the inn I examined, hovering briefly, the
area near the foot of the plateau, by the bridge. There were still some wagons
there. I was particularly interested in one. At the side of it now, a stocky
blond woman was kneeling. She was naked. A heavy chain was on her neck. It went
back, under the wagon, where it was fastened. A fellow stood before her, holding
a whip. I saw her put down her head, frightened, and kiss his feet. She was not
the slender, dark-haired slave beauty who had been under the wagon last night,
huddling in the tarpaulin, in the storm.
That one Ephialtes, if all had gone well, had purchased this morning. She would
be made first girl over the coffle of “free women,” the Lady Temione, and the
others, that she might teach them something of discipline and the basic arts of
giving pleasure to men, lessons which might soon make a serious difference not
only with respect to the quality of their lives, but to the very existence of
those lives, as well.
The canvas covering of the wagon had been drawn back, probably to air the
contents from the dampness of the storm. No one seemed to be within the wagon,
or about it, other than the pair at the side of it. I had little doubt,
accordingly, that the blond woman kneeling before the fellow with the whip was
his free companion, or former free companion. The girl who had been beneath the
wagon last night, had been formerly purchased, and primarily purchased, I had
suspected, in an attempt, I thought, by the fellow to encourage his companion to
take her relationship with him more seriously. She had apparently done so, at
least to the (pg.144) extent of treating the slave with great cruelty. But now
the slave was gone, and there was a chain on her neck. He had apparently now
gone to the heart of the matter. If she were still his free companion, it seemed
she would now be kept in the modality of bondage, but perhaps she was now only
his former free companion, and had been reduced to actual bondage, now being
subject to purchase by anyone. I recalled how she had bent in terror to kiss his
feet. There was no doubt that she would now take her relationship to him
seriously.
It is difficult not to do so when one is owned, and subject to the whip. The
woman would now discover that her companion, or former companion, a fellow
perhaps hitherto taken somewhat too lightly, one perhaps hitherto accorded
insufficient attention and respect, one perhaps hitherto neglected and ignored,
even despised and scorned, was indeed a man, and one who now would see to it
that she served him well, one who would now own and command her, one who would
summon forth the woman in her, and claim from her, and receive from her, the
total entitlements of the master.
I then turned the tarn, and brought it to a suitable cruising altitude. Below me
now lay the Vosk Road, and we flew north. It would take a regiment of Gorean
infantry, in normal marches, given time for the fortification of a camp in the
late afternoons, and so on, three days to reach Ar’s Station from the Crooked
Tarn. I supposed that the wagon of Ephialtes, particularly if he let the girls
ride, as he probably would, later, would make the same time. The common marches
of Gorean infantrymen, for example, are usually accompanied by wagons, those of
their supply train, proper, and vehicles such as those of sutlers and masters of
camp slaves.
I did not know what the name of the girl whom I had used under the wagon last
night had been. It did not really matter, as she was a slave. I had not bothered
to inquire. Now, however, if I were to own her, I should probably give her a
name. It is better, I think, for a girl to have some name to answer to. It is
more convenient, too, for the master, I think, to give her a name. It is thus,
for example, easier to refer to her, and to summon her and command her. Too,
that she has a name put on her by your power, and that she understands the
meaning of this, has a good effect on her. “Who obeys?” “Tina obey!”
(pg.145) I suppose, too, one has upon occasion seen a lovely woman and wished
that she might have a certain name, for one might think that an excellent name
for her. If she is a slave, of course, and one owns her, one can give her any
name of one’s choosing, indeed, perhaps that very name which is, at least in
your opinion, ideal for her. Too, she might beg a name she has always wanted,
and, if it is acceptable to the master, he might put it upon her. Names, too, of
course, may be used to humble and punish a woman, and such names, humbling
names, and punishing names, are as much real names as the most beautiful of
names. That is, then, who she is. Perhaps in the future she will try much harder
to be pleasing, that she might be given a better name. I considered the lovely