Kur of Gor

Chapter, the Twenty-Fourth: WHAT OCCURRED LATER IN THE GLADE

"Then do so,” said Cabot, angrily.

"Have you touched her?” asked Grendel.

"Certainly,” said Cabot, “and well."

Grendel's large body trembled with rage.

"Here is my throat,” said Cabot, bearing his throat. “Be quick!"

"You are chained,” said Grendel.

"Thus you have less to fear,” said Cabot.

"I will not kill a man in chains,” said Grendel. “A human could do that."

"You are human!” said Cabot.

"No,” he said, “I am Kur."

"You are not!” screamed the blonde. “You are human, only human!"

"Did he hurt you?” asked Grendel, his voice gentle, anomalous in such a form.

"Yes, yes!” screamed the blonde. “He hurt me, cruelly, viciously, terribly!"

"Examine her body,” said Cabot, “that you may see the bruises, the discolorings, the lacerations."

"Do not look at me!” screamed the blonde.

"I see no such marks,” said Grendel, puzzled.

"It is easy to lie, once one is speeched,” said Cabot.

"Kill him!” screamed the blonde, shaking her chains, pointing at Cabot. “Kill him!"

"Obey your pet,” said Cabot.

"You do not love him?” asked Grendel.

"Kill him!” she screamed.

"Obey your pet,” said Cabot.

"She is not my pet,” said Grendel. “She was taken from me, by the command of the Eleventh face of the Nameless One, Agamemnon, Theocrat of the World."

"Then she is his pet,” said Cabot.

"No!” cried the blonde. “I am a free woman! It was so said, and said by him, he himself, the Eleventh Face of the Nameless One, Agamemnon, Theocrat of the World!"

"Then how are you here?” asked Cabot.

"By his will!” she screamed. “We are all owned, even the free!"

"I am not owned,” said Grendel.

"Nor I,” said Cabot.

"Kill him!” she cried, pointing at Cabot.

"Do you not love her?” asked Grendel.

"No,” said Cabot.

"Kill him!” pleaded the blonde.

Grendel drew forth a key from his harness. “I killed for this,” he said. “I am now outlaw in the world."

He thrust the key into the shackles of the blonde and Cabot, freeing her first, then Cabot.

"I am not your enemy,” said Cabot.

"The common enemy,” said Grendel, “is Agamemnon. Several of us know this."

The blonde had retreated several feet, standing back in the grass. “Bring me clothing!” she demanded, “robes, regalia!"

Grendel regarded her.

"I am a free woman!” she screamed.

But she was, of course, as naked as a pet, or slave.

Grendel returned his attention to Cabot.

Cabot rubbed his wrists, and looked up at Grendel, like a boulder before him. “Now, I am free of chains,” he said, “and you may kill me."

"Yes, kill him!” called the blonde.

"It would be better if I did so,” said Grendel to Cabot, “for Agamemnon has conceived a thousand variations of a thousand deaths for you."

"Do then as you wish,” said Cabot, angrily.

"We are all doomed,” said Grendel.

"Not I, not I!” screamed the blonde.

"Perhaps not you,” said Grendel. “There may be a way to save you."

"You should not have interfered!” cried the blonde.

"I thought he would take you from me, that you were lovers,” said Grendel.

"No,” said Cabot.

"—I love her,” said Grendel.

"That is known to me,” said Cabot.

"Kill him,” called the blonde. “Prove you love me! If you love me, kill him! Kill him, for me!"

"Because he does not love you?” said Grendel.

She was silent, furious.

"Thousands do not love you,” said Grendel. “Shall I kill them all?"

"I hate you!” she screamed.

"I would that I could hate you,” said Grendel, “but I cannot. It would be easy to tear your nasty, hateful, lying head from your shoulders, but I cannot, nor do I wish to do so."

"You are bringing us all to death!” she said.

"I could not let him have you,” he said.

"You will never have me!” she screamed.

"If you could stop me from loving you,” said Grendel, “you would have succeeded, long ago."

"Do not love her,” said Cabot.

"I do,” said Grendel. “I must."

"She is not worth your love,” said Cabot.

"Not worth the love of a beast!” she scoffed.

"No,” said Cabot. “Not worth the love even of a beast."

"That is what I am,” said Grendel

"You are less a beast than she,” said Cabot.

"I am beautiful!” she cried. “I am beautiful!"

"Yes,” said Cabot, “you are beautiful."

"I am Bina,” she cried, proudly. “I am Bina!"

Grendel lifted his head, and regarded her, puzzled.

"Bina!” she insisted.

"As you will,” said Grendel.

"And Grendel,” she cried, “is the name of a monster!"

"So I am given to understand,” said he.

"It was a joke,” said Cabot. “Choose another name."

"I am Grendel,” he said.

"As you will,” said Cabot.

"You came to kill him,” said the blonde. “Do it!"

"She speaks boldly for a pet, does she not?” said Cabot.

"She is not a pet,” said Grendel.

"I am a free woman!” said the blonde.

"She is a hot little slut,” said Cabot. “Why do you not collar her, put her to your feet, lash her, and keep her as a slave?"

Grendel regarded him, aghast.

"She might then be good for something,” said Cabot. “As a free woman she is a bother. As a slave she might be pleasant in her chains. I am confident she would squirm well."

"Beast! Beast!” she cried.

"Unthinkable,” said Grendel.

"Not really,” said Cabot. He looked about. “Look,” he said, “there is food here, and some wine. I am hungry. Let us share this small repast."

"I killed for the key,” said Grendel. “Guards will discover the body. Shortly thereafter they will come to this place."

"The bread is good,” said Cabot, and he seized up a handful of grapes, as well, from the dish on the grass.

"Strange things are going on in the world,” said Grendel.

"The wine, too,” said Cabot, wiping his mouth. “What strange things?"

"The fleet has departed,” said Grendel.

"The invasion of Gor?” said Cabot, suddenly.

"No,” said Grendel. “It is other than that."

"War?"

"I fear so,” said Grendel.

"Amongst the worlds?"

"Between two, I think,” said Grendel.

"This, and some other?"

"This world would take Gor for itself,” said Grendel. “Another would oppose this unilateral seizure of a prize to be reserved for all. Agamemnon, I suspect, will strike first, to rid himself of possible rivals."

"War of Kur upon Kur?"

"There is a history of such things, a long and bloody history,” said Grendel.

"Strange,” said Cabot.

"And do not humans war upon humans?"

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"Is it then so strange?"

"No,” said Cabot, thoughtfully. “It is not so strange."

"Serve me,” said the blonde to Grendel, and he bent to fetch some wine, some grapes, some bread for her.

He waited upon her, humbly.

She sat on the grass, and fed. “You need not kill him,” she informed Grendel. “You are a champion. He is not worth your stroke."

"She demeans me,” smiled Cabot.

"And me,” said Grendel. “She demeans all whom she does not fear."

"Look upon her,” said Cabot, “and think collar."

"Is that how you look upon women?” inquired Grendel.

"Often, if I find them of interest,” said Cabot. The thought crossed his mind of the brunette, whom he clearly found of interest.

"She is a free woman,” said Grendel.

"So, too, once,” said Cabot, “were most slaves."

"Bring me wine,” said the blonde, to Grendel, and he purveyed to her again the flask.

"I thought pets were not permitted wine,” said Cabot.

"I am not a pet,” she snapped.

Slaves are sometimes permitted wine, if they beg prettily enough for it. The slave is dependent on the master for all things, including her food. The master takes the first bite of shared food; if he should be seated, say, on a bench or chair, the slave commonly eats at his feet, kneeling beside him; sometimes she is fed by hand, particularly the first bites of food; sometimes she must eat from dishes on the floor, her head down, on all fours.

"Bread,” said the blonde, and it was fetched for her, again, by the shambling hulk of Grendel.

"How came you here?” asked Grendel.

"I was drunk, in the Pleasure Cylinder,” said Cabot, bitterly. “Peisistratus betrayed me. I awakened in the breeding shackles."

"You would decline the offer of Agamemnon, to arm and lead the humans of Earth against the Sardar,” said Grendel.

"Certainly,” said Cabot.

"Honor?"

"Certainly,” said Cabot.

"How then,” asked Grendel, “were you betrayed by Peisistratus?"

"I was given no opportunity to flee, to fight,” said Cabot.

"Fruitless opportunities,” said Grendel. “Would you wish Peisistratus to risk his own life, and that of his men, to abet a brief, fruitless escape, a gesture of meaningless defiance, on your part?"

"He is my enemy,” said Cabot.

"No,” said Grendel.

"He is the human of Agamemnon,” said Cabot.

"He is his own human,” said Grendel, “and one of us."

Cabot looked at him, puzzled.

"Those who would overthrow Agamemnon,” said Grendel. “As was Lord Pyrrhus, and as is Lord Arcesilaus."

The blonde looked at him, suddenly.

"You spoke unwisely, friend Grendel,” said Cabot. “She has heard, and to save her own skin, she will betray you, and Peisistratus, and Arcesilaus."

"No,” said the blonde. “No, no!"

"She is speeched,” said Cabot, “and speech enables betrayal."

Grendel turned slowly to regard the blonde.

"No!” she said. “I will not speak. And I heard nothing, nothing!"

"Secrets,” said Cabot, “are lightly revealed by free women."

"Do not fear,” said Grendel to the blonde. “I will not harm you. Though you betray me to sleen or tharlarion, to a hundred deaths, I will not harm you."

"I wish to go to Gor,” she said. “I will be safe there. I will be rich there! I will win my way with beauty, for I am beautiful and men will do as I bid them. On Gor I will be Ubara!"

"On Gor,” said Cabot, “beauty is found more often on the chain of taverners than on the thrones of states."

"I am not so stupid as to be a slave,” she said.

"Slaves,” said Cabot, “are commonly chosen not only for their beauty but for their intelligence. High intelligence much improves a woman's price on the slave block."

This is, of course, not surprising, for the higher a woman's intelligence, provided it be conjoined with profound feminine needs, the better the slave.

"I will not tell,” she said.

"It would be well to take precautions,” said Cabot.

"They will not be necessary,” she said.

"Perhaps we could arrange ticket for you,” said Cabot, “on the next transport to Gor."

"Do so!” she said.

"That is a joke,” said Cabot.

At that point, in the distance, a bar began to ring, and its ringing was taken up by other bars, and the cylinder itself seemed to ring.

"They have found the body,” said Grendel, “that of he from whom I obtained the key to your chains, he who managed the sheds in which the breeding shackles are stored."

"I shall wish you well then,” said Cabot, “for we must go our diverse ways."

"You have plans?"

"Of course."

"I think, too,” said Grendel, “that that is best, for if you are not with us, as though we were conspirators, or in league, I may purchase her life."

"How so?” asked Cabot.

"They will kill me,” said Grendel, “or capture and destroy me, but if she appears innocent in all this she may be spared."

"And how shall she appear innocent?” asked Cabot.

"I have brought rope for the purpose,” said Grendel.

"Excellent,” said Cabot. “She will then appear your innocent, hapless prisoner."

"That is what I would be!” she cried.

"Yes,” said Grendel.

"Rope me!” she cried.

Grendel turned about, and went some feet away, in the grass.

"You have never felt ropes, have you?” asked Cabot.

"No!” she snapped.

"You will find the experience interesting,” he said, “the constricting, enwrapped coils tightened on your body, the specialness of the consequent sensations, they enveloping you, the feeling of being utterly helpless, the knowledge that you are then totally at another's mercy, and such."

"He will do my bidding!” she said.

"But he need not,” said Cabot.

She turned white, and trembled.

In a moment Grendel had returned, with several light coils of rope. Of these supple circlets he freed some loops.

"Do not rope me!” she said, suddenly.

"It will be better,” said Grendel.

"Then let him rope me!” she cried, pointing at Cabot.

She is a clever little she-sleen, thought Cabot. She has a sense of what may be done. She is still aroused. In my ropes, she senses she may be irresistible to me. And perhaps she might be! All men desire absolute power over a woman, and all women desire to be in the absolute power of a given man, one to whom they long to yield, one who will see her as a helpless, possessed female, and one in whose ropes she well realizes herself such, no more than that, a helpless, possessed female, to be done with uncompromisingly as he pleases, and one who will see to it that she yields well. The female longs to submit, and the male to master.

"Have him rope me!” she said to Grendel.

How delicious and perfect to the male is the female whom he finds in his bonds!

How beautiful she is!

And the bonds need not be of cord, nor of metal or leather, of such things. Ideally they are the bonds of slavery itself.

That is how the female is in his power, truly and perfectly, and she knows herself such, in every fiber of her well-curved, embonded being.

"Now!” she cried.

She is so clever, thought Cabot. So very clever!

Grendel looked at Cabot, loops of rope dangling from one paw.

"No,” said Cabot. “Rope her."

"No!” she cried, but already the loops were being put about her, and drawn tight, pinning her small, lovely arms to her sides.

"Forgive me,” Grendel begged her.

"Make them tighter,” said Cabot.

"Oh!” she cried, squirming, regarding Cabot with fury.

"Now,” said Cabot, “look upon her. She is yours."

"Yes,” said Grendel.

"Beast!” she screamed at Cabot.

She was now well swathed with rope.

"Now make her a leash, and draw her away, behind you,” said Cabot.

"Beast, beast!” she screamed at Cabot.

A length of rope was knotted about her throat.

"In the arena,” said Cabot, “two Kur females fought, competing for the seed of a champion, and the bloodied winner was roped and led away, as might have been nothing, a mere female slave, and was joyful, that the seeding would be hers."

"So it is often done,” said Grendel.

"Do not seed me!” cried the blonde.

"The bars have rung,” said Cabot.

"Yes,” said Grendel, looking about, his ears lifted.

"Lead her away,” said Cabot. “Lead your pet away."

"I am not a pet!” she said. “I am a free woman!"

"A free woman, on a rope,” said Cabot.

"What will be done with me?” she begged.

"If you are fortunate,” said Cabot, “you will be sent to the Pleasure Cylinder, to be branded and collared, and learn to please men."

"Never!” she cried.

"Or perhaps you will be sent, chained, on a slave ship, to be sold in the markets of Gor."

"No!” she cried.

"Be of good cheer,” said Cabot. “You might bring a good price, and obtain a well-to-do master."

"I, a slave? Never a slave! Not I!"

"A collar is too good for you,” said Cabot.

"Beast!” she hissed.

"Do not fret, small, soft one,” said Grendel. “And let us hope these coarse encirclements, doubtless so embarrassing you, and so discomforting you, will dissociate you from my crime. When you are found as you are, bound and helpless, it is possible your life may be spared."

Cabot was not sure of this, as the Kur concept of justice is latitudinal, and often deep, and guilt is seldom conceived of as an individual thing, but rather as a generic plague which must be ruthlessly extirpated. Should friends not have dissuaded the evildoer from his actions? Should they not have anticipated it, and intervened? Should they not have suspected it, and reported its likelihood to authorities? Is there not a festering hotbed of criminal potentiality somewhere to be rooted out, from which soil another such deed might spring? And should not one who carelessly provided the provocation for a deed, say, a temptress, not suffer for her role in the matter, as well? And should one risk a repetition of the crime, or a similar crime? Group guilt, of course, is a concept not unknown, as I understand it, in many Earth societies, as well, families and descendents being punished even for deeds done long ago, perhaps centuries ago. Are not even peoples accountable, down to dozens of generations?

The blonde looked wildly at Cabot.

She knew, as well as he, that her innocence, such as it was, might well be insufficient to purchase her life.

Then her expression changed, to a sudden, wild thought, one of relief, even of elation, and possibility.

Yes, thought Cabot, she has a better way to purchase her life!

And she is aware of it!

"I wish you well,” said Grendel, a common Gorean farewell.

"I wish you well,” responded Cabot.

And the two then parted, Grendel drawing after him a small, well-formed human female, blonde.

She looked back, once, at Cabot, and then was jerked forward on her rope, by hastening Grendel.