Assassin of Gor

16 — THE TARN

Less than a month following the downfall of the House of Portus, Cernus had become the undisputed master of the slave trade in Ar. He had purchased from the state the facilities and chattels of the House of Portus, at a comparatively small price. The men of the House of Portus, who had been Slavers and mercenaries the equals of those of the House of Cernus, had now been disbanded, some leaving the city, some taking their gold from new masters, some even hiring their swords to the House of Cernus.

I would have expected the price of slaves to rise in Ar, but Cernus did not permit it, but continued, when necessary, to undersell the minor houses to keep the general prices in the range he wished. This was hailed as generosity on his part by those in Ar, who were familiar with and had experienced to their sorrow, particularly since deposition of Kazrak, the effect of a number of monopolies, in particular those in salt and tharlarion oil.

Further, because of his services to the state, including the sponsorship of games and races, Cernus was, upon the petition of Saphronicus, Captain of the Taurentians, invested in the scarlet of the Warrior, thus honoring him with High Caste. He did not, of course, give up the House of Cernus nor any other of his widely ranging interests in Ar and beyond it.

I do not suppose the Hinrabian Administrator much cared to approve this raising of caste in the case of Cernus, but he lacked the courage to go against the wishes of the Taurentians, and of the city generally. The High Council, with scarcely a murmur, agreed to the investiture. That he was now of the Caste of Warriors did not change much with Cernus, of course, save that a strip of red silk, with those of blue and yellow, now adorned his left sleeve.

I did know that Cernus had been, for years, trained in the use of weapons. Indeed, he was said to be, and I do not doubt it, first sword in the house. He had doubtless hired masters of arms because he wished to acquire skill in weapons, but I think, too, he may, even for years, have had in mind his investiture as Warrior. It perhaps need only be added that now being a Warrior, and thus of High Caste, he was now eligible for a seat on the High Council of the city, and even for the throne itself, whether it be that of Administrator or Ubar. Cernus celebrated his investiture by sponsoring the first games and races of the new season, which began in En'Kara.

It had been a long, hard winter for me and I think I, as well as the common citizens of Ar, rejoiced in the coming of En'Kara. The girls had finished their training during the Twelfth Passage Hand. Little then remained for them except to review their lessons, eat and sleep well, and be in prime condition for their sale in the late summer, during the Fifth Passage Hand, on the Love Feast.

On the first day of the Waiting Hand, the last five days of the old year, the portals of Ar, including even that of the House of Cernus, had been painted white, and in many of the low-caste homes had been sealed with pitch, not to be opened until the first day of En'Kara. Almost all doors, including that of the House of Cernus, had nailed to them some branches of the Brak Bush, the leaves of which, when chewed, have a purgative effect. It is thought that the pitch and the branches of the Brak Bush discourage the entry of bad luck into the houses of the citizens.

During the days of the Waiting Hand the streets are almost deserted, and in the Houses there is much fasting, and little conversation, and no song. Rations even in the House of Cernus were halved during this period. Paga and Ka-la-na were not served. The slaves in the pens received almost nothing. Then, at dawn, on the first day of En'Kara, in the name of the city, the Administrator of Ar, or a Ubar if it be Ubar, greets the sun, welcoming it to Ar on the first day of the New Year. The great bars suspended about the walls of the city then ring out for more than an Ahn with their din, and the doors of the city burst open and the people crowd out onto the bridges, clad in the splendor of their finest, singing and laughing. The doors are painted green and the pitch washed away, and the branches of the Brak Bush burned in a small ceremony on the threshold. There are processions in the city that day, and songfests, and tournaments of the game, and recitations by poets, and contests and exhibitions.

When the lanterns on the bridges must be lit the people return home, singing, carrying small lamps, and give the night over to feasting and love. Even the slaves in the iron pens in the House of Cernus received that day a small cake with oil and had their troughs filled with water mixed with Paga. It was also the day that, before the High Council and the Administrator, Cernus, of the House of Cernus, accepted the red of the Warrior from the hands of Saphronicus, Captain of the Taurentians. The following day would begin the races and games sponsored by the House of Cernus.

On the first day of En'Kara much of the old year had been forgotten, but there were three who could not forget it; Portus, who lay chained in the dungeons of the Central Cylinder; Claudia Tentia Hinrabia, now free, but who had endured the shame of slavery, and would perhaps never again permit herself to walk on the high bridges of the city; and Tarl Cabot, who seemed as far now from his goal as he had been months before, when first he came to the House of Cernus.

I had, during the Waiting Hand, cornered Caprus, angered, demanding that he now turn over what he had, that it would be enough, and that we would fly during En'Kara. But he had assured me that just recently Cernus had received a large batch of new documents and maps, which were perhaps crucial, and that the Priest-Kings would surely be angry if he did not obtain copies of them as well; moreover, he reminded me, he would refuse to let any documents leave the house unless they all did, himself being carried to safety at the same time. I was furious but it seemed to me I could do nothing. I turned and strode away from him, enraged.

The games and the races began with great enthusiasm and excitement. Murmillius, in the games, returned with more brilliance than ever and, on the second day of En'Kara, with superb swordsmanship downed two foes, wounding them again and again, until even the crowd did not regard them as worth slaying, at which time Murmillius sheathed his sword, turned his back, and left the two bleeding men standing in the sand, staring after him, only to collapse a moment later, weak from the loss of blood. The Yellows carried the first day of the races, led by Menicius of Port Kar, claiming more than six thousands wins, perhaps the most famed rider since the days of Melipolus of Cos, who even in his own time had been a legend, said to have accumulated more than eight thousand wins. The Greens came in second, carrying three of the eleven races. The Yellows had won seven, five of them ridden by Menicius.

I remember this first day of the races well.

The girls, too, would have special reason, as I would, to recall it. For them, it was the first time since the beginning of their training that they were permitted to leave the house. Normally, late in their training, girls are permitted the sights of the city, that they may be stimulated and refreshed, but such had not been the case with Elizabeth, Virginia and Phyllis. According to Ho-Tu, whom I had once asked about this, there were two main reasons for this; first, their training was peculiarly full and intensive; second, the prospect of being permitted to leave the house, particularly attractive to Virginia and Phyllis, who and known nothing of Gor save the House of Cernus, was a powerful inducement to be diligent in their lessons. Further, as Ho-Tu pointed out, their sale was not to be until the late summer; thus there was plenty of time to use the sights and scenes of Ar, judiciously mixed with review and practice, diet and rest, to bring them to a height of vitality, interest and excitement before putting them on the block. Timing in such matters, following Ho-Tu, is extremely important. A bored, jaded or overstimulated girl does not perform as well as one whose appetites, whetted, stand at their peak.

At any rate, regardless of the reasoning, or the stratagems of Slavers, Elizabeth, Virginia and Phyllis were permitted to attend the first day of the races, under, of course, suitable guard.

We met in Sura's training room and I, who was to be in charge of this expedition, given that I would let no other guard Elizabeth, was given a leather sack of silver and copper coins by Ho-Tu, for the expenses of the day. Each of the girls would wear brief silken slave livery, sleeveless, the disrobing loop on the left shoulder. Elizabeth wore red, Virginia and Phyllis white. Each of the girls was also issued a light slave cloak, the hem of which fell a bit above the hem of her livery, but which had a hood. Elizabeth's was red with white stripes, Virginia and Phyllis' white with red stripes. To their consternation, before being permitted to leave the training room, Virginia and Phyllis, beneath their livery, had locked on their bodies, by Sura, the iron belt. The other two guards, who arrived carrying slave bracelets and slave leashes, the latter of light, gleaming chain, were Relius and Ho-Sorl. Virginia, seeing Relius, merely lowered her head; Phyllis, seeing Ho-Sorl, seemed beside herself with anger.

"Please," she said to Sura, "let it not be he."

"Be silent, Slave," said Sura.

"Come here, Slave," said Ho-Sorl to Phyllis. She looked at him angrily, and went to him.

Relius, who had walked over to Virginia, placed his large hands on her hips. She did not raise her head.

"She wears the iron belt," said Sura.

Relius nodded.

"And I will hold the key," said Sura.

"Of course," said Relius. Virginia did not raise her head.

"This one does, too," said Ho-Sorl, a bit irritably.

"Of course I wear the iron belt," said Phyllis, even more irritably. "What did you expect?"

"I will hold the key to her belt as well," said Sura.

"Let me hold the key," suggested Ho-Sorl, and Phyllis blanched.

Sura laughed. "No," she said, "I will hold it."

"Bracelets!" snapped Ho-Sorl suddenly, and Phyllis flung her wrists behind her back, threw back her head and turned it to one side, the instantaneous response of a trained girl.

Ho-Sorl laughed.

Tears appeared in Phyllis' eyes. Her response, automatic, unthinking, had been that of a trained animal. Before she could recover, Ho-Sorl had snapped the bracelets on her. He then said, "Leash," and she looked at him angrily, then lifted her chin. He snapped the leash on her collar.

Meanwhile Virginia had turned her back to Relius, extending her wrists, and he had put bracelets on her; then she turned and faced him, her head still down. "Leash," said he, quietly. She lifted her head, the chin delicately high. There was a metallic snap and Virginia Kent, the slave girl, had been leashed by Relius, guard in the House of Cernus, Slaver of Ar.

"Do you want leash and bracelets for her?" asked Sura, pointing to Elizabeth.

"Oh yes," I said. "Yes, of course."

They were brought. Elizabeth glared at me while I braceleted her, and leashed her. Then, together, we left the House of Cernus, leading our girls.

Outside the House of Cernus, and around the first corner, I took the bracelets and leash from Elizabeth.

"Why did you do that?" asked Ho-Sorl.

"She will be more comfortable," I said. "Besides," I said, "she is only Red Silk."

"He is probably not afraid of her," said Phyllis pointedly.

"I do not understand," said Ho-Sorl.

"You may remove the bracelets from me," said Phyllis. "I will not attack you," Phyllis turned about and held her braceleted hands to Ho-Sorl, her head irritably in the air.

"Well," said Ho-Sorl. "I would certainly not want to be attacked."

Phyllis stamped her foot.

Relius was looking at Virginia, and with his hand he lifted her chin, and for the first time, she met his eyes, with her deep gray, timid eyes. "If I remove the bracelets from you," said Relius, "you will not attempt to escape, will you?"

"No," she said, softly, "Master."

In an instant her bracelets had been removed. "Thank you," said she, "Master." The Gorean slave girl addresses all free men as «Master» and all free women as "Mistress."

Relius looked deeply into her eyes, and she dropped her head.

"Pretty slave," he said.

Without looking up, she smiled. "Handsome Master," she said.

I was startled. That seemed rather bold for the timid Virginia Kent.

Relius laughed and set off down the street, giving Virginia a tug that almost pulled her off her feet, and she stumbled and caught up with him, then remembered herself, and followed him, head down, two paces behind, but he gave her another tug and took up the slack in her leash, so that she must walk at his side, and she did so, barefoot, beautiful, and, I think, happy.

Ho-Sorl was speaking to Phyllis. "I will take off the bracelets, but in order that you may attack me if you wish. That might be amusing."

The bracelets were removed from Phyllis. She rubbed her wrists and stretched in the leash.

"I think I will tear the iron belt from her," commented Ho-Sorl.

Phyllis stopped stretching. She looked at Ho-Sorl irritably.

"Perhaps you wish me to promise that I shall not attempt to escape?" she inquired.

"That will not be necessary," responded Ho-Sorl, starting off after Relius. "You will not escape."

"Oh," cried Phyllis, nearly thrown from her feet. The she was angrily walking beside Ho-Sorl. But he stopped and turned and regarded her. Not speaking, but biting her lip, she stepped back two paces, and thus, leashed, furious, followed him.

"Let us not be late for the races," said Elizabeth.

I extended her my arm, and together we followed the guards and their prisoners.

At the races Relius and Ho-Sorl unsnapped the slave leashes and, though in the stands, amid thousands of people, Virginia and Phyllis were free. Virginia seemed rather grateful, and knelt quite close to Relius, who sat on the tier; in a moment she felt his arm about her shoulders and thus they watched race after race, or seemed to watch the race, for often, I observed them looking rather more at one another. Ho-Sorl, after several races, gave Phyllis a coin, ordering her to find a vendor and buy him some Sa-Tarna bread smeared with honey. A sly look came over her face and in an instant, saying, "Yes, Master," she was gone.

I looked at Ho-Sorl. "She will try to escape," I said.

The black-haired scarred fellow looked at me, and smiled. "Of course," he said.

"If she escapes," I said, "Cernus will doubtless have you impaled."

"Doubtless," said Ho-Sorl. "But she will not escape."

Pretending not to be particularly observant, but watching very closely, Ho-Sorl and I observed Phyllis picking her way past two vendors with bread and honey. He smiled at me. "See," he said.

"Yes," I said. "I see."

Phyllis then, darting a look about her, suddenly turned and fled down one of the dark ramps at the races.

Ho-Sorl leaped nimbly to his feet and started after her.

I waited a moment or so and then I arose also. "Wait here," I said to Elizabeth.

"Don't let him hurt her," said Elizabeth to me.

"She is his prisoner," I told Elizabeth.

"Please," said Elizabeth.

"Look," I said, "Cernus would not be much pleased if she were slain or disfigured. The most Ho-Sorl will do to her is give her a good drubbing."

"She doesn't know any better," said Elizabeth.

"And that," I said, " would probably do her good."

I then left Elizabeth, and Relius and Virginia, and started off after Ho-Sorl and Phyllis, picking my way through the bustling crowd. The judge's bar rang three times, signaling that the tarns were coming to the track for the next race.

I had hardly walked more than fifty yards through the crowd when I heard a frightened scream, that of a girl, coming from the dark ramp down which Phyllis had disappeared. I then pushed and shoved my way through men and women, tumbling a vendor to the left, and raced to the passageway. I could now hear some angry cries of men, the sound of blows.

I bounded down the ramp, three turns, and managed to seize a fellow by the collar and seat of his tunic and fling him some dozen feet to the next landing below, who had been rushing on Ho-Sorl from behind. Ho-Sorl meanwhile was lifting one fellow over his head and hurling him down the ramp. On both the left and the right side there lay a battered, senseless fellow. Phyllis, wild eyed, the clothing half torn from her, the iron belt revealed, was trembling by the iron bannister on the ramp, on her knees shuddering, her left wrist braceleted to the railing, breathing spasmodically. The fellow Ho-Sorl had flung down the ramp rolled for some feet, struck the wall at the turn, struggled to his feet and drew a knife. Ho-Sorl immediately took a step toward him and the fellow screamed, threw down his knife, and ran.

Ho-Sorl strode over to Phyllis. The bracelet that fastened her to the railing was his. I gather he had come on the men, who had apparently seized the girl, beaten them away, braceleted her to keep her there, and then turned to fight them again as they had regrouped and attacked.

He glared down at Phyllis, who, this time, did not meet his eyes but looked down at the stones of the ramp on which she knelt.

"So," said Ho-Sorl, "the pretty little slave girl would run away?"

Phyllis swallowed hard, looking down, not speaking.

"Where did the pretty little slave girl think to run?" asked Ho-Sorl.

"I don't know," she said numbly.

"Pretty little slave girls are foolish, aren't they?" asked Ho-Sorl.

"I don't know," she said. "I don't know."

"There is no place to run," said Ho-Sorl.

Phyllis looked up at him, then, I think, feeling the true hopelessness of her plight.

"Yes," she said numbly, "there is no place to run."

Ho-Sorl did not beat her but rather, after removing the slave bracelets from the railing of the ramp and from her wrist, putting the bracelets in his belt, simply pulled her to her feet. He found the ripped slave cloak and hood which had been torn from her and helped her to tie together the parts of her slave livery. When she stood ready to return to the tiers she put her back to him and extended her wrists behind her. But he did not bracelet her, nor leash her. Rather he looked about on the ramp until he found the small coin he had given her to buy him bread and honey, which coin she had dropped when the four men had seized her. To her astonishment he gave her the coin.

"Buy me bread and honey," he told her. Then he said to me, "We have missed the sixth race," and together we turned about and went back into the stands, finding our seats.

Some minutes later Phyllis came to our seats, bringing Ho-Sorl his bread and honey, and the two copper tarn disks change. He became absorbed in the races. He may not have noticed that she knelt on the tier below us, her head down, her face in her hands, sobbing. Virginia and Elizabeth knelt with her, one on each side, holding her about the shoulders.

"I only regret," Ho-Sorl was saying to me, "that I never saw Melipolus of Cos ride."

Race followed race, and, eventually, we heard the judge's bar ringing three times, signaling that the tarns were being brought out for the eleventh race, the last of the day.

"What do you think of the Steels?" asked Relius, leaning toward me.

The Steels were a new faction in Ar, their patch a bluish gray. But they had no following. Indeed, there had never yet been a Steel in a race in Ar. I had heard, however, that the first tarn would fly for the Steels in this very race, the eleventh race, that which was shortly to begin. I did know, further, that a tarn cot for the Steels had been established during Se'Var and riders had been hired.

The backing of the faction was a bit mysterious. What gold there was behind the Steels was not clear, either as to quantity or origin. It might be noted, however, that a serious investment is involved in attempting to form a faction. There are often attempts to found a new faction, but generally they are unsuccessful. If a substantial proportion of races are not won in the first two seasons the law of the Stadium of Tarns discontinues its recognition of that faction. Moreover, to bring a new faction into competition is an expensive business, and involves considerable risk to the capital advanced. Not only is it expensive to buy or rent tarn cots, acquire racing tarns, hire riders and Tarn Keepers, and the entire staff required to maintain a faction organization, but there is a large track fee for new factions, during the first two probation years.

This fee, incidentally, can be levied even against older factions if their last season is a very poor one; moreover, a number of substandard seasons, even for an established faction, will result in the loss, permanently or for a ten-year period, of their rights on the track. Further, the appearance of new factions is a threat to the older factions, for each win of the new counts as a loss against the old. It is to the advantage of any given faction that there should be a small number of factions in competition and so the riders of an older faction, if unable to win themselves in given races, will often attempt to prevent a good race being flown by the riders of the new faction. Further, it is common among older factions not to hire riders who have ridden for the new factions, though sometimes, in the case of a particularly excellent rider, this practice is waived.

"What do you think of the Steels?" asked Relius again.

"I don't know," I said. "I know nothing of them." There had been something in his voice which puzzled me. Also, Ho-Sorl gave me a look at about this time. Neither of them, incidentally, had ever seemed much taken aback by the fact that I commonly wore the black of the Assassin. Now, of course, as I usually did when I was outside the house, I wore the red of the Warrior. They had not exactly attempted to become friends with me, but they had not avoided me; and often wheere I was I found them about.

"Now that is a bird!" cried Ho-Sorl, as the low, wheeled platforms were being drawn on the track.

I heard several in the crowd cry out in amazement.

I looked down to the track, and could not speak. I sat frozen on the tier. I could not breathe.

Throughout the stands, startling those multitudes, unsettling the other birds being drown by the horned tharlarion of the low carts, there was heard the sudden shrill, ringing challenge scream of a tarn, unhooded, a giant tarn, black, a wild mountain cry of one of Gor's fiercest, most beautiful predators, that might have been heard in the sharp crags of the Mountains of Thentis, famed for its tarn flocks, or even among the red peaks of the lofty, magnificent Voltai itself, or perhaps in battle far above the swirling land below as tarnsmen met in duels to the death.

"It is not even a racing tarn," said a man nearby.

I now stood on my feet, stupefied, staring down at the wagons, the birds being brought to the perches.

"They tell me," said Relius, "that the bird is from the city of Ko-ro-ba."

I stood there, not speaking, my limbs weak. Behind me I heard Virginia and Phyllis cry out with pain. I turned a bit to see that Ho-Sorl had a fist in the hair of each, twisting it, pulling their heads back to him. "Slaves," said he, "will not speak of what they see today."

"No, Master!" said Virginia.

"No, no!" cried Phyllis. Ho-Sorl's hand twisted her head and hair cruelly. "No, Master!" cried Phyllis. "No, Master! Phyllis will not speak!"

I turned to my left and began to follow the tier, until I came to a narrow set of stairs, leading to the lower portions of the stands, which I then followed, descending.

I heard Relius behind me. "Take this," he said. He pushed something into my hand, something like a folded cloth of leather. I scarcely noticed. Then he was left on the stairs, and I was descending again, alone. Near the railing of the front tier, I stopped.

I was now some forty yards from the birds. I stood still.

Then, as though searching for me in those multitudes, that turbulence of faces and cloth, of sound, of cries, I saw the gleaming eyes of the tarn cease their scanning and fasten upon me. The wicked, black eyes, round and blazing with light, did not leave me. The crest on its head seemed to lift and each muscle and fiber in that great body seemed filled with blood and life. The vast, long black wings, broad and mighty, opened and struck against the air, hurling a storm of dust and sand on all sides, almost tumbling the small, hooded Tarn Keeper from the low wagon. Then the tarn threw back its head and once more screamed, wild, eerie, fierce, savage, a cry that might have struck terror into the heart of a larl, but I did not fear it. I saw the talons of the tarn were shod with steel. It was, of course, a war tarn.

I looked down at the wad of leather in my hand. I opened it, and drew on the hood concealing my features. I leaped over the rail and strode to the bird.

"Greetings, Mip," said I, mounting to the platform, seeing the small Tarn Keeper.

"You are Gladius of Cos," said he.

I nodded. "What is the meaning of this?" I asked.

"You ride for the Steels," said he.

I reached up and touched the fierce, curved beak of that mighty bird. And then I held it, and pressed my cheek to its fierce surface. The tarn, that predator, gently lowered its head, and I put my head against its head, below its round, gleaming right eye, and, within the leather hood, unseen, I wept. "It has been long, Ubar of the Skies," I said. "It has been long."

Vaguely I was aware about me of the sounds of men, tense, speaking curt words, mounting into the high saddles of tarns.

I sensed Mip near me.

"Do not forget what I have taught you in the Stadium of Tarns," said Mip, "as we have ridden together so many nights."

"I will not," I said.

"Mount," said Mip.

I climbed to the saddle of the tarn, and when Mip unlocked the hobble from its right foot, took it to the starting perch.