Players of Gor

8 I Make Myself Useful to Boots Tarsk-Bit; I Will Also Show Him What I Have Found in the Woods

"Release us!" demanded Boots Tarsk-Bit, on his knees, near the campfire, his arms roped to his sides.

The leader of the brigands, a bearded fellow, with a cloth wrapped about this head, lashed him across the mouth with the back of his hand. This was inappropriate as Boots was a free person.

"Your conduct," sputtered Boots, "is deplorable. I am Boots Tarsk-Bit, actor, promoter and entrepreneur. Doubtless you have heard of me. I am not a slave. I demand to be treated with civility and courtesy."

"Shall I cut his throat?" asked one of the brigands, taking Boots by the hair and pulling his head back.

"Not yet," said the leader of the brigands.

"Where are the keys to the ankle rings of your tent sluts?" inquired the leader of the brigands.

Boots grunted as his head was jerked farther back. The blade of the fellow's knife pressed against his throat.

"You had only to ask," said Boots.

"Where are they?" asked the leader of the brigands.

"On a nail, inside of the door of my wagon, the large wagon with the red roof, on the left," said Boots.

"Bring the two tent sluts here, bound, to the edge of the fire," said the leader of the brigands. "We shall then see if they are worth keeping or should be left here, with the others."

"What are you going to do with us?" asked Boots.

I saw two of the brigands exchange glances, grinning at one another. I saw another fellow start toward Boots's wagon, presumably to fetch the keys to Bina's and Rowena's ankle rings. I gathered if they were found sufficiently beautiful, or sufficiently desirable, they might be spared. It is in the modality of slavery, on the terms of masters, that females historically have sought, and sometimes have been granted, at least provisionally, their survival.

"Do you call this money?" asked the leader of the brigands, shaking the coin kettle under Boots's nose.

"Why, yes," said Boots, looking into the kettle.

The leader of the brigands again struck him.

"There is scarcely a silver tarsk here," snarled the leader of the brigands.

"I agree," said Boots. "It is a piteous sum, not even worth taking. Leave it, if you wish." He then shrank back, but the chief of the brigands lowered his hand, angrily.

The fellow who had gone to fetch the girls no2 returned. He had the two girls with him. The hands of each, by a cord knotted about their waist, were tied before their bodies. He drew them after him, in leading position, each bent over, by the hair. He then twisted them about and flung them to their backs in the dirt, by the fire. The leader of the brigands then took a flaming brand from the fire and holding it over the girls passed it back and forth, over their bodies, scanning them, examining them in the dancing light. He tossed the brand back into the flames. "We will keep them," he said.

The girls shuddered with relief. They had been found acceptable.

"Tie them," said the leader of the brigands, "kneeling, left ankle to right ankle, right ankle to left ankle."

In a moment this was done. They were knelt, back to back. Two cords are used. One cord fastens the first girl's left ankle to the other girl's right ankle, the same cord looped tight about both ankles, binding them closely together. The other cord, similarly, fastens her right ankle to the other's left ankle. It is a lovely, efficient tie, fastening both girls helplessly in a posture of submission. In this tie they will not leap to their feet and flee away. They will remain, waiting, where they have been placed.

"What moneys are there here?" demanded the chief of the brigands of Boots.

Boots was silent.

The chief of the brigands looked down, near the fire. There the other male members of Boots's company lay on their stomachs, bound, sly, agile Chino, simple Lecchio, Petrucchio, the tall, doleful "captain," and Publius Andronicus, supposedly the most famous actor in the company, saving perhaps the incredible Boots Tarsk-Bit himself. I had not yet, as a matter of fact, seen Publius Andronicus act. I supposed that he was capable of doing so. He was quite impressive, in a ponderous way, rather like a mountain range, in figure and visage. He also had a deep bass voice, which, when he wished, he could make boom like thunder. Boots was quite impressed with him. He was apparently holding himself in reserve for major leads, such as those of tragic statesmen, tormented poets, confused ubars, and such. I thought that perhaps he was in the wrong company. AT any rate it did not seem that the repertory of Boots's company, as I was familiar with it at least, was richly or unusually endowed with roles of such a nature. Too, bound, still hooded, the player, he called the "monster," lay with the others.

"Take what you want," said Boots. "Then be gone."

"That one," said the chief of the brigands, indicating Chino, "kill him."

"No!" cried Boots. "Hold! You cannot be serious! Such an act would desecrate the theater! That is the finest Chino on all Gor!"

"I do not like the idea either," said Chino, "on independent grounds."

"If only I had my sword!" cried Petrucchio. I really doubted that Petrucchio's huge, clumsy wooden sword, no more than a comic theatrical prop really, would be likely to turn the tide of battle. Still his courage I found admirable.

"Cut his throat," said the leader of the brigands.

"No," said Boots. "In my wagon, in the right-hand corner of the tray in my trunk there is a knotted sock which contains coins and there are some coins, too, thrust in the toe of a slipper at the side of the trunk."

"Fetch them," said the leader of the brigands.

The fellow who had seized Chino thrust him back to the dirt. he then made his way to Boots's wagon.

"What else?" demanded the leader of the brigands.

"I know of little else that might be of value to you," said Boots. "You may look about and take what you like. I cannot speak for the others."

"Where is Bort?" asked the leader of the brigands.

"He was keeping watch, at the road," said one of the men.

"We have them now," said the leader of the brigands. "We have called the guards in. Where is he?"

"Doubtless he will be in in a moment," said one of the men. He was mistaken.

"Bort! Bort!" called a fellow.

I had counted, all told, counting the leader, seven brigands. It is important, for obvious reasons, to be as clear as possible on such matters.

"Bort!" the man called out, again, more loudly.

I had mad the acquaintance of Bort, briefly, near the road. He had not had a great deal of time, however, to savor the relationship. His attention had been distracted by a tiny sound, the sound of a falling pebble, to one side. I had then approached him from the opposite direction.

"Bort!" called out the man.

The brigands were now six in number. They did not realize this, as yet.

"Where is he?" said one of the men.

"Sleeping at his post," said a man.

"Lost," said another.

"Let him go," said a fellow. "There will be more loot for us that way."

"Go find him," said the leader of the brigands.

Interestingly enough, only one man, he who had been calling Bort, came forth to locate him.

"Bort?" he inquired, warily, peering into the darkness. "Is that you?" I killed him. "No," I said.

I then circled the camp, approaching from the other side of the wagons. The leader of the brigands, and one other fellow, were near the prisoners. The others were rummaging through the wagons and goods. They were intent on ly on their loot. I caught one from behind and dragged him back into the darkness. I left him there. I used the same quiva I had on the other two.

"Titus!" called one of the brigands, emerging from a wagon, pausing on the steps at the rear. "See what I have found!" He brandished a large inlaid cup. I had seen such cups before. "Titus!" he called. "Titus?"

"Where is Crassius?" called the leader of the brigands to him. "Is he with you?"

"No," said the man. "Has he not yet returned?"

"No," said the leader.

The man lowered his arm with the cup.

"He should be back with Bort by now," said the man on the wagon steps.

"Bort!" called the leader into the darkness. "Crassius!" He then turned about. "Titus!" he called. "Titus!" He regarded the fellow with him. "I do not like it," he said.

"What is wrong?" asked another fellow, emerging form one of the wagons.

"Bort is missing," said the leader. "Crassius had not yet returned. We have called Titus. He does not respond."

The men looked about themselves, apprehensively.

"Sleen," said one of the men.

It is true that sleen sometimes make kills swiftly and silently.

"It could be a panther come from the woods, or a strayed larl," said one of the men. This was less likely than a sleen attack. Though panthers and larls can be extremely dangerous to men they will usually attack men only if they are disturbed or other prey is not available. Sleen, which ten to be fine hunters and splendid trackers, which are swiftly moving, aggressive, serpentine, generally nocturnal animals, particularly in the wild state, are less fastidious about their eating habits.

"It could be urts," said a man. "It is near the time of the year for their movements." Certain species of urts migrate twice a year. At such times, annually, it is usually necessary only to avoid them. People usually remain indoors when pack is in their vicinity. There is little danger from these migrations unless one finds oneself in their direct path. The urt, on the whole, most species of which are quite small, large enough to be lifted in one hand, does not pose much direct threat to human beings. Then can destroy Sa-Tarna fields and force their way into granaries. Similarly urts of the sort which live on garbage cast into the canals will often, unhesitantly, attack swimmers. Certain forms of large, domesticated urt, incidentally, should be excepted from these remarks.They are especially bred for attacking and killing. Such animals, however, are inferior to sleen for such purposes. They also lack the tracking capabilities of the sleen. Similarly they lack its intelligence. There was at least one good additional reason, incidentally, for supposing that whatever might be perplexing the brigands was not urts. The urts do not make their kills neatly and silently. They normally attack in a pack. It is usually a messy business. There is usually much blood and screaming.

"Gather in what you can," said the leader of the brigands. "Then we will be on our way." He looked about himself. Then he threw some more wood on the fire. The fire, of course, would be useful in keeping sleen at bay. It also, from my point of view, was useful in illuminating the camp area.

The two men at the rear doors of the wagons, on the steps, looked across at one another.

"Get busy," said the leader.

"You are near the fire," said one of the men on the wagons.

"We have enough," said the other.

"Cowards," said the brigand near their chief, near the fire.

"Let us be on our way," said the first fellow, holding the cup in his hand.

"Do you dispute me?" asked the leader.

The fellow put down the cup. His hand went to the hilt of his sword. I was pleased that the cup had been put down. I would not have wanted it to be dropped.

"Perhaps you are right," said the leader. "Come here, by the fire."

The fellow descended from the steps of the wagon, warily.

"You are right," said the leader. "We have enough."

"Good," said the fellow.

"Fetch the cup," said the leader.

As soon as the man turned about, however, the leader leaped toward him, seized him from behind, his arm locked about his throat, and plunged a dagger, to the hilt, into his back.

"Teibar!" cried the other fellow on the steps.

The leader, his knife bloody, whirled to face him. "Do you gainsay me on this?" he asked.

"No, no!" said the other fellow, quickly.

"Put leashes on the females," said the leader, straightening up, "and then untie their legs, to make it possible for them to move." This is common Gorean practice, to place one bond before removing another.

"You shall be led as befits slaves, as befits animals, as chattels," said the leader to the girls.

"Yes, Master," said Rowena.

"Yes, Master," said pretty Bina.

"What of the wagons and the men?" asked the fellow who was near the leader.

"We will burn the wagons," said the leader. "We will cut the throats of the men."

"Excellent," said his fellow.

"Fetch the cup," said the leader of the fellow who had now descended from the steps of the wagon.

"I do not want it," said the fellow, shakily, looking at his fallen fellow, near the fire.

"Coward," laughed the leader. he then moved past the fellow, proceeding toward the wagon.

The leader had not noticed, it seemed, that although the fellow's voice had surely suggested uncertainty and fear, his hand had been perfectly steady. The fellow's draw was swift and smooth. The leader had barely time to turn, taking the blade, descending, diagonally across the neck. He fell away from the blade, his head awry. The girls screamed. The assailant turned to face the other brigand.

"Do not strike!" cried the other brigand.

Momentarily the assailant hesitated. For an instant he was indecisive. He had not considered matters, it seemed, beyond the slaying of the leader. That had perhaps been short-sighted on his part. Surely the other man should have been included, in one way or another, in his original plan. Obviously he was going to be there, after the original blow. Obviously, in some fashion, he would have to be dealt with or related to. At any rate he had hesitated for a moment. Such dalliance can be costly. The other fellow now had his own blade free of its sheath.

"Let us not fight," said the fellow who had just drawn his blade. "I am with you! There is enough loot for two."

I now revised my estimate of the intelligence of the fellow who had struck down the leader. It seemed reasonably clear, from the voice and attitude of the fellow who had just drawn his weapon, that he was clearly alarmed. I did not think he was acting in this matter. At any rate it seemed to me that his fear was genuine.

"Sheath your sword," said the fellow who had struck the leader.

"Sheath yours," invited he who had been with the leader.

It was now my assessment of the situation that he who had struck the leader had been confident of his capacity to deal with the other fellow. It was thus, apparently, that he had been willing to postpone, for a moment or so, at least, his decision as to how to deal with him. He was now, it seemed, considering it.

"Let us not quarrel," urged the fellow who had been the confidant of the leader. "There may be sleen about."

The first fellow, scarcely taking his eyes off the other, glanced uneasily about. He could not see me, as I stood back in the darkness. Both were within the cast of a quiva. I turned the blade in my hand.

"Put away your sword," urged the fellow who had been the confidant of the leader.

"I do not trust you," said the other.

"Let us not fight," said the fellow who had been with the leader. "There is little enough her to justify our war."

"There is enough," said the fellow who had struck the leader. I saw that his decision had now been made.

"It is enough for two!" said he who had been with the leader.

"It will be more for one," said he who had struck the leader. "What is wrong?"

The fellow facing him had suddenly stiffened, drawing his shoulders close together. Then his hand fell, lowering the blade. He stumbled forward a step. The other, he who had struck the leader, tensed, his sword poised to fen any possible blow. Then the other, he who had been the confidant of the leader, pitched forward, falling near the fire. The girls, salves, kneeling, still bound helplessly, naked, their small hands jerking at the cords holding their wrists tight to their belly, screamed. Men, too, bound, cried out. From the fellow's back there protruded the handle of a knife, the hilt of a particular sort to knife, that of a saddle knife, that of the sort common in the lands of the Wagon Peoples, that commonly known as a "quiva." I had not thrown it hard enough, intentionally, to bring the point fully through the body. It is not necessary. The cast, as recommended, had been easy and smooth. The quiva itself, in its sharpness and weight, does the work. I turned another blade in my hand.

The fellow leaped backward from the fire. Perhaps, after all, he was not as intelligent as I had supposed. he had not destroyed the fire. He had only retreated from it. I could still see him. Understandably, of course, he was unwilling to flee headlong, blindly, from the camp, into an unknown, unexplored darkness, one in which the number and position of enemies was unknown.

"Who is there?" he cried.

Only the night noises of the nearby woods answered him.

"If you are magistrates," he cried, "know that I have come on this camp of brigands and, in cognizance of my jeopardy, was making ready to defend myself!" he looked about, wildly, drawing back another pace or so. "show yourself," he cried, "as befits your office, that of those who courageously do war with brigands, that of those who do nobly defend and support the law, or as plain honest men, if that you be, that I may ally myself with you, that we may then offer to one another, no, then pledge to one another, mutual protection and succor on these dark and dangerous roads."

It was very quiet, save mostly for the rustling and clicking of insects. Too I heard, intermittently, from somewhere far off, the cries of a tiny, horned gim.

"You do not show yourselves," called the man. "Good! Know then that I am a brigand, too! I feared you might be magistrates. It was thus that I spoke as I did. A falling out occurred here in which I was forced to defend myself. I am Abdar, who was of the band of Ho-Dan. Perhaps you have heard of me. I am wanted in five cities. Approach. Though the loot here is meager I am pleased to share it with you, or, if you wish, surrender it to you, as a token of my good faith. Consider the females, if you can see them. Both, I am sure, you would find acceptable as slaves. If you desire them, I give them to you. Show yourselves! Let us enmesh our destinies. I desire to enleague myself with you. Who are you! Show yourselves!"

I did not respond to him. I measured the distance between us.

"Are you still there?" he cried. "Are you still there?"

The, suddenly, with a cry of misery, the fellow spun about and broke into a run. I took one step and released the blade. he grunted and fell forward, sprawling to the dirt, and then lay on his stomach, a few feet from the fire. he rose to his knees and crawled a pace or two, and then again sank to his stomach. Then he lifted his upper body and head, and then fell forward again. he squirmed. He tried, vainly, clutching with his hand behind him, to reach the blade in his back. He could not do so. Then he shuddered and lay still.

I came forward and regarded the body. I removed the knife from it, cleaning it on his tunic. Then I resheathed the blade, in one of the seven sheaths sewn on the common, supple leather backing, slung now from its shoulder strap, at and about my left hip. Someone, as it had turned out, had been still there.

"You!" cried Boots Tarsk-Bit.

I regarded the two slaves. They knew that they were now being scrutinized as females, basically and radically. It is a fundamental sort of inspection. The girl must hope that she passes it. They straightened their bodies. They did not dare to meet my eyes. It is important for slaves to be pleasing. Their lives depend on it.

I looked at Boots. He swallowed, hard.

I then crouched down near him. I began to free his arms, where they were bound to his body. His sigh of relief was audible.

"Where are the other brigands?" he asked.

I freed his arms. "They are here and there," I said. "Do not fear. They are all accounted for."

"How many are with you?" he asked.

"I am alone," I said.

"By yourself you did this?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Where did you learn to throw a knife like that?" he asked.

"In the south," I said, "far in the south."

"You have saved our lives," he said. "Those rascals, I fear, had no intent to spare us."

"Except the slaves," I said.

"Of course," he said. They, after all, were usable, beautiful, salable animals.

We then began to free the others, all but the slaves.

"We are grateful," Boots assured me.

"Thank you," said the player, surily, begrudgingly, as I freed his hand from behind his back. he then bent quickly, angrily, to untie the ropes on his ankles.

"Do not mind him," said Boots. "He is a puzzling chap. He would probably have preferred to have had his throat cut."

"But you are grateful?" I said to Boots.

"Yes," he said. "I am grateful."

"Eternally, undyingly?" I asked Boots, smiling.

"Of course," he said. "Eternally, undyingly!"

"I think I may be of further service to you," I said.

"How is that?" asked Boots, interested. We finished untying Chino, Lecchio, Petrucchio and Publius Andronicus. We left the girls, for the time, of course, as they were, as they were slaves. They would await our pleasure, that of free men.

"Come with me," I said. "And bring a torch."

"What is it?" asked Boots.

"It is something I would like to show you," I said. "I found it nearby in the woods, when I returned to my camp, to fetch weapons, a few Ehn ago."

"What is it?" he asked.

"Come with me," I said. "I will show you."

"Very well," he said.

"Bring a torch," I said.

"Very well," he said.