Kur of Gor

Chapter, the Twentieth: THE TRIAL

Cabot was well bedecked, in purple robes, sashed with gold. About this neck were strings of rubies.

He refused a diadem of gold, as he felt himself no ruler, no king, no baron, no Ubar, no Administrator, or such.

Peisistratus, too in splendid robes, stood near him, on a step below the surface of the platform of the witness. This platform was twelve feet high, and railed, and stout enough to support more than one Kur. The jury was a thousand Kurii, ranged on tiers. Lord Pyrrhus, chained by limbs and neck, and fastened in a cement pit, had spoken in his own defense, but his defense, articulate and bellicose, did little more than confirm his guilt. He did protest his innocence of treason, and his insistence that he had never acted otherwise than in the best interests of the species and the world.

The testimony of Peisistratus, taken through translators, had made it clear that Lord Pyrrhus had intended to take the human, Tarl Cabot, hunting in the sport cylinder, which seemed upon the surface, if tasteless considering some of the game available, at least sufficiently innocent. Other testimony had made it clear that Lord Pyrrhus had returned from the sport cylinder without Tarl Cabot, and that, later, a hunting party of eight Kurii, three of whom were womb brothers, and two of whom were egg brothers, to Lord Pyrrhus had entered the sport world with sleen, and had been arrested in the midst of an attempt upon the life of Tarl Cabot, esteemed ally of Agamemnon.

"You are the human, Tarl Cabot?” inquired the translator of the chief prosecutor.

"I am,” said Cabot.

"One supposes it is possible,” said the prosecutor, “that a terrible mistake is involved in all this, for the defendant is Kur."

"Certainly,” said Cabot.

"Yet it seems clear, and overwhelmingly so, that Lord Pyrrhus had designs upon your life."

"What reason could he possibly have for such designs?” asked Cabot.

"That question is to be ignored,” said the judge, who was not visible, but whose presence was made known by a sound system, and whose words were picked up by the platform translator, set in the railing before Cabot. The body of Agamemnon, in this instance, Cabot supposed, was in effect the courtroom itself. He had little doubt that Agamemnon, wherever he might be ensconced, could see as well as hear the proceedings.

"We need not inquire into such matters,” said the chief prosecutor, “as facts are at issue, and not motivations."

"Very well,” said Cabot.

"One fact is clear, at least,” said the prosecutor, “that a tunic, bestowed upon you in accordance with the largesse of Lord Agamemnon, Eleventh Face of the Nameless One, Theocrat of the World, was in the possession of the hunting party by which you were endangered, a tunic used to set sleen upon you."

"Certainly to find me,” said Cabot.

"I do not understand,” said the prosecutor.

"Perhaps the party was sent by Lord Pyrrhus, or someone, to locate me in the sport world, and thereby effect my rescue."

"We have ample testimony,” said the prosecutor, whose movements suggested anger, though the translator spoke without passion, “that in the time of your location your life was in great jeopardy."

"That is true,” said Cabot. “I fear the hunters mistook me for a game human."

"How could that be?” inquired the prosecutor.

"I fear I was clad in skins, suggesting a human game animal,” said Cabot.

Several of the encircling jurors exchanged glances.

"Lord Pyrrhus took you to the sport cylinder and abandoned you there, to be hunted down and killed by his cohorts,” said the prosecutor.

"Is that not speculation?” asked Cabot.

"It is fact,” said the prosecutor.

"One supposes the jury must decide on that,” said Cabot.

"Are you intent on trying to protect one who would have had you slain?"

"Is that not for the jury to ponder?” inquired Cabot.

"You could not have reached the sport cylinder alone,” said the prosecutor. “You could not know the shuttle codes."

"I was to go hunting with Lord Pyrrhus,” said Cabot. “I had codes from him, though I do not now recall them. I was to wait for him, but I went ahead. Perhaps he came later to the shuttle port, and deemed that I had declined the hunt, and thus returned to his quarters."

"What are you telling us?” asked the prosecutor.

"I was curious,” said Cabot. “I wandered off. It was unwise of me."

"You would hold Lord Pyrrhus innocent in all this?” said the prosecutor.

"Certainly,” said Cabot.

Pyrrhus, clothed in chains, in the pit, regarded Cabot, puzzled.

"What are you doing?” whispered Peisistratus to Cabot.

"Kaissa,” said Cabot.

Peisistratus seemed content with this answer.

The prosecutor turned about, and, high in the tiers, above the jurors, a small light glowed briefly, twice. It would be noted, presumably, only by those facing it, and perhaps looking for it. Cabot, given his vantage on the platform, did see it.

"The witness may step down,” said the prosecutor.

Cabot descended from the platform, and Peisistratus, who had been near to him, waiting on a step, accompanied him.

"The jury will note,” sounded the voice of the judge, which seemed to come from everywhere in the room, the platform translator producing this in Gorean almost immediately, “that the guilt of Lord Pyrrhus is overwhelmingly clear, albeit largely circumstantial. The aberration of a witness, or the obscurity of its testimony, must not be permitted to distract your attention from either the charges or the indisputable and incontrovertible evidence on which they are based. The jury may now deliberate."

"Do they not withdraw?” asked Cabot.

"Certainly not,” said Peisistratus. “The judge would then not know how each voted."

"The verdict need not be unanimous?” asked Cabot.

"Certainly not,” said Peisistratus. “If that were the case a single madman or fool, a simpleton, a partisan or malcontent, might nullify or vitiate an entire trial."

"Is a simple majority required?” asked Cabot.

"No,” said Peisistratus, “innocence or guilt must be clear, so a clear, significant majority is required, and in a trial such as this, involving charges of high treason, guilt must be exceedingly clear, this requiring that nine out of every ten jurors draw the knife."

"If more than one out of ten do not unsheathe their blades?"

"Then the defendant is acquitted,” said Peisistratus.

Already in the tiers many six-digited paws were clasped about the handles of their knives, but, Cabot noted, many jurors were crouched down, knuckles on the tiers, their knives untouched.

"Hold!” called the voice of the unseen judge.

The jurors looked about themselves, but the location of the judge, as the voice emanated from a diversity of locations, was not clear.

"Pyrrhus,” called the voice.

"Lord Pyrrhus,” bellowed a voice from the pit, with a fierce shaking of chains.

"Did you or did you not seek the death of the human, Tarl Cabot?"

"I did,” said Pyrrhus.

"So his honor destroys him,” said Cabot to Peisistratus, at the foot of the witness platform.

"Perhaps not,” said Peisistratus.

"You have spoken in all honesty, as Kur,” said the judge.

"Certainly,” said Pyrrhus.

"Let it be so recorded,” said the judge.

"And let this, too, be so recorded, and I speak as Kur,” called Pyrrhus, his voice rising from the cement pit, in which, to rings, he was chained, “I am guilty of no treason against the species or the world!"

This caused a considerable stir on the tiers, for it was clear Lord Pyrrhus had spoken as Kur.

"If I am guilty of treason,” he continued, “it is not treason against the species and the world, but against one who would betray the honor of the species and the world, a dissembler and deceiver, an opportunist and thief, a liar and seeker of power, a true traitor to worth, nobility, and valor."

"So name such a foe,” said the judge.

"He cannot,” said Peisistratus to Cabot, “for it is forbidden, sacrilegious, blasphemous, to speak ill of the Nameless One, or of any mask through which he speaks."

"Let the jury draw their daggers or not,” challenged Pyrrhus.

"Agamemnon may not have his majority,” said Peisistratus, looking about the tiers.

"He confessed to seeking my death,” Cabot reminded Peisistratus.

"You are an animal,” said Peisistratus. “We can be killed here with more impunity than might a wild sleen in a Gorean forest. We are not even pets. We are not even owned. No restitution, even, would be expected for slaying us."

"Then it matters little?"

"It matters nothing, save for your interest to Agamemnon,” said Peisistratus. “Your testimony clouded matters for Agamemnon. He expected to convict on its basis. You betrayed him. The jury was confused."

"That was my intention,” said Cabot.

"You are interested in abetting revolution, in spreading division in the Steel World?"

"I suppose my life now,” said Cabot, “will be worth little, if Lord Pyrrhus goes free."

"He will not go free,” said Peisistratus. “But his party will doubtless remember your testimony."

"Is Pyrrhus not to be now acquitted?” asked Cabot.

"Acquitted, perhaps, but not spared,” said Peisistratus.

"See the knives,” said Cabot.

Many were unsheathed, and by far the most, and each of those daggers pointed downward, threateningly, toward the pit in which Lord Pyrrhus awaited the verdict.

"I do not think,” said Peisistratus, scanning the tiers, “that Lord Agamemnon will have his needful numbers."

"Hold!” came the booming voice of the judge.

"No,” whispered Peisistratus, “he would not have his needful numbers."

"Desist!” came from the speakers about the courtroom. “This matter will be decided otherwise."

"It will be the arena,” whispered Peisistratus.

Daggers were sheathed, and the Kurii stirred restlessly, eagerly, on the tiers.

"Kur to Kur!” cried Lord Pyrrhus, shackled, but mighty, looking upward, fangs bared.

"Yes,” said the judge, the voice seeming to ring about the gigantic chamber. “Kur to Kur!"

The Kurii on the tiers leaped up and down, howling with pleasure. Muchly were they satisfied with this outcome.

The passion for truth, and the seeking of justice, in the Kur heart, is linked more closely with victory than deliberation, with triumph than balloting, with blood than mind. The hereditary coils have cast their countless lots, and nature has made her innumerable decisions amongst them, according to her mysterious wills and ways, denominating her fortunes of extinction and prosperity, of defeat and victory, of death and life. To the Kur it is the highest court, and her judgments are nonrepudiable.

Guards even now were loosening the holding chains of Pyrrhus and preparing to lead him from the cement pit in which he had been held below the jurors, below the witnesses, below the judge.

"Will he be fed?” asked Cabot.

"Probably not,” said Peisistratus.

The jurors were filing from the great chamber.

The chief prosecutor looked up toward the ceiling, but the light there did not glow. He then left the chamber.

In a few moments Cabot and Peisistratus were alone.

"It is done, is it not?” asked Cabot.

"Part of it,” said Peisistratus.

"Are we to see the denouement of this matter in the arena?” asked Cabot.

"It will be required of us,” said Peisistratus.

"What is the fate,” asked Cabot of Peisistratus, “of the pet of Arcesilaus?"

"Are you not more interested in the fate of another?” asked Peisistratus.

"The blonde human,” said Cabot, “the pet of Arcesilaus. From hunters who pursued me I learned they were contemplating feasting on her, and had left her secured, that her meat be fresh, fastened to a tree near the shuttle port, her arms braceleted behind her, the key to the bracelets on a string about her neck."

"You know Grendel?"

"Of course."

"He sought her in the forest world, and soon found her, near the port, and freed her."

"Freed her?"

"To return her to Arcesilaus, of course."

"He may have risked much,” said Cabot, “for those who pursued me had secured her, as meat, I fear, to be feasted upon following the completion of their task."

Amongst Kurii meat, as amongst sleen and larls, may be fiercely contested. One does not lightly take another's food.

"True,” said Peisistratus, “he did risk much, and cannot have known that the hunters might not have soon returned, or, even if later returned, would have demanded their meal."

"Interesting that he would so jeopardize himself for a mere human, put his life at risk against Kur custom,” said Cabot, “and for one not even an ally, but for one the mere pet of another."

"Doubtless,” smiled Peisistratus.

"One can but speculate on the motivation,” said Cabot.

"But the pet is well-curved, is she not?” asked Peisistratus.

"Surely,” said Cabot. “But he is Kur."

"Part Kur,” said Peisistratus.

"I see,” said Cabot.

"Once freed, she tried to flee from him, even into the forest, but he easily overtook her."

"Nature has seen to it that such cannot outrun either men or Kurii."

"He was forced to bracelet her in the very bonds from which he had freed her, her wrists now before her, clasp her in his arms, and carry her, by force, to the Steel World."

"Surely she understood she was to be returned to Arcesilaus."

"But not, she would wish, by he,” said Peisistratus. “By anyone but he."

"Why not?” asked Cabot.

"She abhors him,” said Peisistratus.

"He may have risked his life for her."

"She abhors him,” said Peisistratus.

"Would she not be in danger from Arcesilaus,” asked Cabot, “for she was used to bait a trap, one in which Kurii were slain?"

"Arcesilaus does not bear her ill will,” said Peisistratus, “but, too, it is not now practical for him to keep her. She was used against Kurii. That is not to be forgotten. Might it not happen again? She is human. Where do her true loyalties lie? Too, she is now partly speeched, and that weighs muchly against her. Indeed, perhaps she connived against Kurii. In any event, if not he, his fellows, and others, call for her blood."

"I gather she was an excellent pet."

"Yes,” said Peisistratus. “And Arcesilaus was doubtless fond of her."

"That was my understanding."

"He can obtain another,” said Peisistratus.

"So she is to be slain, or sent to the cattle pens?"

"When she was brought before Arcesilaus, she flung herself on her belly before him, and, her small wrists braceleted before her, she clasped his foot, and kissed and licked, weeping, piteously, at his claws, but he remained adamant."

"And so she is to be slain, or sent to the cattle pens?"

"Arcesilaus, I think, remains fond of her, and was pleased to learn she still lived, and that she had been brought safe to the Steel World."

"By Grendel."

"Surely."

"But Arcesilaus will not keep her."

"Certainly not."

"What, then, is to be done with her?” asked Cabot.

"Grendel himself provided the solution,” said Peisistratus.

"And what was the nature of this solution?” inquired Cabot.

"He purchased her, for a pittance,” said Peisistratus. “She is now on his leash."

"And what was her view of this?” asked Cabot.

"She was beside herself with disbelief, with horror, and humiliation, and fury, and misery,” said Peisistratus.

"But she is still on his leash."

"Of course."

"Excellent,” said Cabot.

"He is not wholly Kur,” said Peisistratus. “She has always hated him, loathed him, as do most of the Kurii, as a misbred monster and freak, and now she belongs to him, and the collar on her neck is his."

"He risked his life for her."

"She despises him,” said Peisistratus.

"Doubtless he will keep her under an excellent discipline,” said Cabot.

"No,” said Peisistratus. “She puts on airs and has no fear of him."

"Though she is a mere pet?"

"Yes."

"I see,” said Cabot.

"She wishes to demean and rule him,” said Peisistratus. “She is haughty and petty. She treats him in ways that no Kur would tolerate. Even in public she insults him, and shows him disrespect. She does not serve him, she does not groom him."

"Perhaps she should be disciplined,” said Cabot. “Women understand such things."

"He will not lay a hand on her,” said Peisistratus.

"She will then grow ever more insolent, more tiresome, and troublesome,” said Cabot. “She will understand his gentleness, his kindness, his forbearance, or whatever it may be, as weakness."

"Doubtless,” said Peisistratus, “but, in any event, she is still on his leash."

"I see,” said Cabot.

"And what of her Gorean?” asked Cabot.

"She demands that her lessons continue,” said Peisistratus.

"I suppose that is to the good,” said Cabot.

"She is small, petty, and thankless,” said Peisistratus.

"I am sorry to hear that,” said Cabot.

"But she is still on his leash,” said Peisistratus.

"I wonder if she understands what that means,” said Cabot.

"Probably not,” said Peisistratus. “Do you want her?"

"No,” said Cabot.

"You need only say the word and Agamemnon would give her to you, or any other who might please you."

"Lord Agamemnon is generous,” said Cabot.

"Have you pondered the offer of Agamemnon, proposed to you in the palace?” inquired Peisistratus. “He grows impatient."

"I expect to give him my answer soon,” said Cabot.

"I trust it will be the right answer,” said Peisistratus.

"It will be,” said Cabot.

"Good,” said Peisistratus.

Cabot smiled.

"I would not dally overlong,” said Peisistratus.

"No,” said Cabot.

"I shall accompany you to your lodgings,” said Peisistratus.

"That is perhaps wise, considering my testimony,” said Cabot.

They then left the courtroom.

"It is interesting to me,” said Peisistratus, “that you have expressed no interest in the fate of another."

"What other?” asked Cabot.

"The brunette, she with whom you shared a stall,” said Peisistratus.

"I remember her,” said Cabot. “She was the pet of Lord Pyrrhus, as I recall. But, as I understand it, he was deprived of his rank, his goods, his chattels, and such, even before the trial."

"The outcome of the trial was not in doubt,” said Peisistratus, “until the unexpected vacillations and vagaries of a particular witness."

"But the trial was inconclusive?"

"The trial, perhaps, but not justice,” said Peisistratus. “Justice will have its way, by one road or another."

"I see,” said Cabot.

"Kur justice,” said Peisistratus, “is nothing if not efficient and expeditious."

"So what happened to the goods of Lord Pyrrhus?” asked Cabot.

"I see you are interested."

"Surely,” said Cabot.

"Goods and chattels were confiscated, thus becoming the properties of the state."

"Of Lord Agamemnon?"

"Yes. But one chattel was given away before the fall of Lord Pyrrhus."

"Given away?"

"Yes."

"Oh?"

"The brunette,” said Peisistratus. “When Pyrrhus expected you to die or be slain in the sport cylinder, he was no longer interested in a simple slut, a mere human, one whom he had acquired primarily to provoke you."

"To whom was she given?” asked Cabot.

"To me,” said Peisistratus.

"And you accepted her?"

"Certainly,” said Peisistratus. “It would have been churlish to refuse, do you not think so, and, besides, what fellow would not be pleased to accept the gift of so lovely a pet?"

"She was given to you as a pet, and not as a slave?"

"Yes,” said Peisistratus.

"But she is a slave."

"Every inch of her, every hair on her head, every cell in her body, every bit of her,” said Peisistratus.

"Then she has not yet been claimed as a slave?” said Cabot.

"No,” said Peisistratus.

"Interesting,” said Cabot.

"I thought you would be interested,” said Peisistratus.

"What has been done with her?"

"She has been taken to the Pleasure Cylinder,” said Peisistratus.

"Then she will be safe from Kurii."

"Unless from those who monitor the cylinder,” said Peisistratus.

"I trust she is worked well,” said Cabot.

"She is worked excellently,” said Peisistratus, “and she is becoming well apprised she is a slave."

Cabot was pleased with this intelligence pertaining to the former Miss Pym. The sooner she understood she was a slave, and no more than a slave, the better. He supposed several of the young men who had known her on Earth would not be displeased to own her.

"Few in the cylinder speak English,” said Cabot.

"She is being taught Gorean, by the girls,” said Peisistratus. “And she is learning quickly."

"Good,” said Cabot.

It is important for a girl to learn quickly the language of her masters.

"She is highly intelligent,” said Peisistratus.

"Good,” said Cabot.

Goreans do not wish for the lips of a stupid woman to be pressed to their feet.

"Too, of course,” said Peisistratus, “as she is a female slave, she is being taught the pleasing of men, by a switch."

"Of course,” said Cabot.

To be sure, the switch is largely an encouragement to diligence and a corrective for mistakes, or clumsiness. Its applicability may also be noted where errors in Gorean grammar, phrasing, or such, might take place.

"I am surprised,” said Cabot, “that she has not been claimed."

"None will claim her,” said Peisistratus.

"But she is surely comely, would look well in ropes, would be nicely curved at one's feet, would bring a good price off the block, and such."

"Nonetheless,” said Peisistratus, “none claim her."

"Surely the cylinder could do so, publicly,” said Cabot.

"It has not done so,” said Peisistratus.

"On Gor there are many slaves owned by the state, by institutions, businesses, and such."

"This is not Gor,” said Peisistratus.

"There are difficulties?"

"Several,” said Peisistratus. “Food, oxygen, space, the quotas, the allotments, the requirements of Kurii, and such."

"Interesting,” said Cabot.

"She should be soon claimed, or destroyed,” said Peisistratus.

"Why is that?” inquired Cabot.

"There is no place here for unclaimed slaves,” said Peisistratus.

"I know a world,” said Cabot, “where there are untold thousands of unclaimed slaves."

"I know that world, as well,” said Peisistratus, “but I would say untold hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of unclaimed slaves."

Cabot was silent.

"But when we bring them to Gor,” said Peisistratus, “they find themselves claimed, and owned, and clearly the properties of masters."

"True,” said Cabot.

It is a joy for the slave to find at last her master, and for the master to have at his feet at last his slave.

"It seems she should be claimed,” said Cabot.

"When sleeping in her chains, uneasy, sobbing, twisting and rolling about, she calls your name,” said Peisistratus.

"Interesting,” said Cabot.

"Was she not placed in the container on the Prison World with you, by Priest-Kings?” asked Peisistratus.

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"Doubtless to be exquisitely attractive to you, to be even irresistibly attractive to you, one to be a perfect slave for you, one who would be a veritable slave of your dreams, one perhaps designed for your collar, one perhaps even bred for your collar?"

"Perhaps,” said Cabot.

"It seems then that the Priest-Kings have miscalculated,” said Peisistratus.

"It would seem so,” said Cabot.

Certainly he could see little point in her being placed in the container other than to torment him, tearing him apart, betwixt his honor and his desire. But then he asked himself, how could one desire such a female, one so haughty and contemptuous, one so obsessed with her own contrived, eccentric self-image, one so naively and pretentiously, so uncritically, imbued with her vanity, and the encumbrances of an unnatural, pretentious, forlorn civilization? But certainly she had been well turned on nature's lathe, to taunt and torment men, at least until she had become their vulnerable, helpless possession.

"But she is clearly a slave,” said Peisistratus.

"Of that there is no doubt,” said Cabot.

"Do you think she knows she is a slave?"

"In one sense,” said Cabot. “The chain on her leaves her in no doubt of it."

"But do you think she knows the chain is rightfully and appropriately on her, that it belongs on her?"

"Probably not,” said Cabot.

"Do you think she will fight the understanding of herself as rightfully a slave?” asked Peisistratus.

"Probably,” said Cabot.

"You are not interested in claiming her?"

"No,” said Cabot.

"Here is your lodging,” said Peisistratus, pausing on a step, leading up to the small villa set aside for Cabot's use, nestled in the side of a hill.

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"Agamemnon awaits your answer,” said Peisistratus, looking upward, after Cabot.

"He will have it soon,” said Cabot, ascending the stairs.

"Cabot!” called Peisistratus.

Cabot turned, and looked down. “Yes?"

"I shall call for you at the fifth Ahn,” said Peisistratus.

"The arena?” asked Cabot.

"Our presence is required,” said Peisistratus.

"I understand,” said Cabot.

"It will not be pretty,” said Peisistratus.

"I understand,” said Cabot.