I spent the day exploring new parts of the city, further and further out from the neighbourhood of my apartment. I found another small open air market area with stalls, tables and tents similar to the one I found a couple days ago. I discovered a clothing store that had all manner of tunics with varying materials, some of them very fine quality. I purchased another tunic, and arranged for the seamstress, a robed and veiled Free Woman to sew in some internal concealed pockets. She was very confused as to what I wanted and became frustrated with my efforts to explain what I wanted. I didn’t know the Gorean word for “pocket” and I had to use my hand and some cloth to help her visualize what I wanted. I don’t think she ever understood why her perfectly made tunic needed additional work done.
How should I carry my money? A lot of Goreans keep their money in small bags and tie them to belts. That just seemed too exposed for me, too easy for a thief to snatch and grab. Other Goreans carry their money in their mouth. What an inconvenience, not to mention the metallic taste all day long! And when they need the money, or want to eat or drink paga, they just spit out the coins! Not me. I was happy with the two pockets she made for me. Wearing clothes with pockets all my life, I just couldn’t get used to not having them.
In the market I found a man selling knives. There was knife that caught my eye on his table. Its straight blade was 6 horts long and narrowed to a point. There was a very small hilt between the handle and the blade. On earth this knife would be called a dirk or dagger. It had a nice thin wooden sheath that it rested in. On Gor this was meant for a Free Woman to conceal and theoretically be used to defend herself. The blade was sharp and I bought it. The man who sold it to me asked if I had purchased it for a Free Woman. Embarrassed, I lied and said that it was for my Free Companion. After I left his table, I put the dagger in one of my new concealed pockets.
I passed many taverns, and noticed that the majority of them have an attractive slave girl, sometimes scantily clad, but usually nude, at the entrance, enticing men to come in. I resisted the temptation to enter many of these unknown taverns as I eventually made my way to the stadium where Trem worked and lived.
I knocked on Trem’s door in the afternoon, when I hoped that he was done with his working day. My timing was lucky and he answered the door and smiled. “Tal, Rykart,” he said and motioned me inside his apartment. I had brought some paga with me and we drank while I asked him about tarns. I asked if I could see them, where they were kept and where he worked. My Gorean was improved but I was still not quite conversant. He started off by saying that it was a bad idea for me to go close to a tarn. He gave me a sincere warning that being around tarns was very dangerous, sometimes deadly. He described how tarns are fierce, half-wild, meat eating, monstrous birds that demanded ones full attention and respect.
He told me of a friend of his who had been a tarnkeeper for ten years and had been killed by a tarn one day after going to work on a morning when he had drunk too much paga the night before. The tarn sensed a malaise in the hungover friend and without warning, struck the man’s shoulder with his beak. The tip of the tarn’s beak punctured the man’s neck while in the process of snatching his upper arm. In an instant the tarn had torn this man’s entire arm out of its shoulder socket, removing it completely from the body. Trem’s friend had died quickly from blood loss and shock. Trem had witnessed the entire scene.
It seemed that Trem was trying to dissuade me from tarns and he was very hesitant when I asked him again to show them to me. He said that I must not show fear around them, even though I will feel it, especially the first time. He said that the tarn has to accept the presence of a man and that many times they do not. He told me about a fearless veteran warrior who wished to become a tarnsman. When the warrior entered the tarncot and the perch area of a war tarn, the tarn hissed at the warrior. The warrior brandished a tarn goad, which is like a hyper charged cattle prod. The tarn, though hobbled, attempted to hop and pounce on the warrior with its sharp talons. The warrior tried to remain fearless and stand his ground with the tarn goad. The goad struck the tarn but wasn’t enough to prevent getting sliced open in several places by the slashing talons. If the tarn had not been hobbled, the attack might have been fatal. The warrior tried again with a different tarn and was met with frenzied angry spasmodic charges. Tarns clearly did not like this man and he would never be a tarnsman.
Trem finally agreed to take me into the tarncot. First, he gave a lengthy course in the use of tarn goads. They were essential in the handling of tarns, but sometimes barely managed to keep a determined tarn at bay. He said to never enter a tarncot without a tarn goad. We drank some more paga and headed for the tarncot.
Like Trem’s apartment, the cylindrical tower that housed the tarncot was part of the large stadium building. It was built into one of the corners of the stadium. Trem’s apartment had a door that entered into the interior of the stadium and went through this door. We walked toward the corner cylinder and went inside. In the centre of this tower was an entrance to a large wide circular stairway. We went to the circular stairway and started to ascend. There were stair landings on every floor. These landings had hallways that went away from the central stairwell, some of these hallways had closed doors and some had no doors at all. Sometimes there were small doors that were set right into the walls next to the steps, with no landing at all. Very curious. We continued up the stairs.
I started to think that Trem must be in great physical shape if he climbs this stairwell every day for work. I am in great shape myself, being used to going up and down steep canyon trails and mountainsides in my wanderings on Earth. Plus, the gravity on Gor is slightly less and I did barely notice the difference.
I sensed we had climbed some two dozen stories, when we came to a large wooden door which Trem banged on hard. A covered slit in the door opened and someone inside had a look at us. Trem told me that there was always an attendant present in the tarncot. This tarncot was owned by the city but most of the space was usually rented out to tarn racing teams. He also mentioned that tarn racing had been greatly decreased because of the war. I really wanted to ask about the war, but it wasn’t the right time. I was really excited about seeing tarns up close!
A very strong peculiar smell came through the door as it was opened and we went inside. The odour was almost overpowering. Trem looked at me inquisitively, almost as if he was checking on me.
“What do you think of the smell Rykart?” he asked.
“Strong and very unusual,” I replied.
“You did not say that it stinks, that is good. Many men are repulsed by this smell and it is an early indication that they are not suited for tarns. In time, tarnsman and handlers grow to love this smell,” he said. I had my doubts as to whether I would ever love this smell, but it wasn’t offensive.
Trem took two rods from the wall and handed one to me. These were tarn goads and he showed me how to turn them on and off and adjust settings. There was a thick piece of blackened scorched wood that was mounted on the wall and he touched the tip of the goad to it. A brilliant bright flash of sparks burst from the contact of the goad on the wood. The power was of the goad was intense, I wondered if I could trade my short gladius for a tarn goad!
The top of this tower was completely dedicated to the tarncot. It was immense, reminding me of the giant barns I had seen in the milk country of Wisconsin. The area was at least four stories high and separated into four sections or quarters. Each quarter had a roofed portion but there was a lot of space that had no roof. Instead, there was a wooden framework perch that was lattice like with wide slots between the wood. The wood was very dark, black. Trem said this wood was from the tem tree and was very hard.
There were gated portals built into the walls that divided each quarter. On the other side of the gate on these portals, was a large flat wooden deck, or landing pad area. Most of the portal gates were swung open and I could see out over the stadium and the city.
Each quarter looked identical and had several layers of cells containing tarns. There were over a hundred tarns in this tarncot. One of the quarters had men actively riding tarns, coming and going from the landing pad. These men looked like warriors to me; obviously skilled tarnsmen, focused on some assignment. I was impressed.
Trem said that three of the four quarters were normally occupied by tarn racing teams but that one of them had been recently devoted to the army. This tarncot generally contained racing tarns but the army was using the larger war tarn for most of its work.
Trem was employed by the city and took us into the fourth quarter that was the municipal section. We went into a large, caged room, and there was a tarn inside! It was an immense bird, with greenish brown feathers. Its beak was large and curved, like that of an eagle. It had a saddle on its back with straps going around its body. There was a large metal ring around its neck, with straps going from it back to the saddle.
Trem instructed me to stand back, behind him and to hold the tarn goad up and ready. The tarn looked and him. Its eyes looked wild and fierce. One of its ankles was chained to a massive ring, set into the floor. He motioned for me to stand next to him, which I did slowly. The tarn looked at me, then stamped its massive talon on the floor. I thought for sure that I would be afraid but I wasn’t. My heart was beating furiously, but it was from excitement and thrill.
“You are doing good Rykart,” Trem said.
“Can I ride him?” I asked like a little kid at a petting zoo.
“You really are brave. You need more time around tarns before you ride. Perhaps we can ride together,” he said. “Help me attach another safety strap to the saddle.”
Racing tarn saddles have two safety straps that attach the rider to the saddle. There are two for redundancy, in case one strap were to fail in flight. War tarns typically only have one strap but it is thicker. The saddle was large and had rings attached to it in places for securing things in flight. There was also a rope ladder with small wooden steps that hung down from the saddle on the side of the tarn. Trem climbed up this rope quickly and was in the saddle. He told me to grab some safety straps that were hanging on the wall and hand them to him.
I was very nervous about approaching the enormous bird on my own. The tarn was looking at me the entire time. I walked slowly and tried to evoke confidence as I approached the saddle. I tossed the straps to Trem who attached them to the saddle. He then came back down and showed me how to remove the ankle chain. He climbed back up the rope ladder onto the tarn and told me to open the gate that would allow us to leave this cell and proceed to the flight deck. Once on the flight deck, he told me to climb up the ladder and sit behind him in the saddle. I was again very nervous but walked over to the ladder and climbed up the five steps. He then told me to roll up the ladder and secure it to the side of the saddle. After tightening up my belt, he showed me how to secure the safety straps to it. He secured his tarn goad, but told me to keep mine out for now.
He took the six control straps into his hands and told me that by pulling on them, the tarn could be controlled in flight. They reminded me of a horse’s reins. He said the number one strap is used to initiate flight and during flight it is used to command the tarn to climb or ascend higher. He then told me to secure my goad into a pouch and “Hold on!”
Trem pulled on the one strap and the tarn jumped up and began flapping its enormous wings. We were flying instantly! The tarns wings looked to have almost forty feet of span. My stomach felt as if it had dropped out of my body as I felt the wind rush past me.
There are really no words to describe the thrill and exhilaration I felt from flying on the back of this magnificent creature! Trem kept us climbing until we were higher than the tallest of the city’s cylinder towers. The view was incredible. I finally gained perspective on how big Argentum is. I looked down on the maze of streets and city blocks. I saw other towers, higher than the one we had left, with tarncots on top of them, and tarns coming and going from them.
We flew in a circle around the city before veering away. I saw a large river with boats or small ships on it and canals feeding the city. I saw three camps outside of the city. These camps had thousands of men in them, and they looked like military encampments. Our flight became an ever wider circle around the city, outside its perimeter.
“Lean forward,” Trem said before taking us into a dive over the river. We dropped rapidly and in an instant I thought we were going to hit the water. Trem pulled us out of the dive right before that happened. I have fearlessly ridden numerous roller coasters, I have bungee jumped, I have ridden many types of helicopters, but nothing compared to the thrill of that dive! I would have left everything on Earth just to come experience this. Riding on tarn back was at equal to riding a kajira, well almost equal. I wanted to learn everything about it.
------------------------------
Trem told me the name of the tavern as we entered it. It was called the Feasting Tarn, and like his apartment and the tarncot tower, its construction was incorporated into one of the walls of the stadium. The Feasting Tarn was massive, with four floors or levels that had balconies on the street side and balconies on the inside providing views of the stadium interior. Each level could be accessed by event spectators inside the stadium.
There was a massive central circular stairway that was the main indoor access for the tavern. Along this stairway were numerous curtained alcoves. There were also alcoves tucked away in corners and other parts of the building.
The rooftop of the tavern was one large circular observation deck that was also accessed by the central stairway. The roof had low tables and sitting cushions under areas with adjustable shade panels. Trem called this the Top Perch and was his favourite level in the tavern.
We were drinking paga and having tabuk, the favoured food of tarn. The tabuk had been slow roasted, seasoned with a dry rub and was absolutely delicious. Trem told me that this tavern had a large variety of tabuk meals, all of them different and that tabuk was the only meat served here. I made a mental note to try all of the varieties over time.
The Feasting Tarn was a very lively place and I noticed on our way up that each level seemed to have many customers. There were also a lot of paga slaves in attendance, serving paga and tabuk. The Top Perch was a favourite place for tarnsmen and tarnkeepers. Trem tried to explain that he considered himself a tarnster, someone in between. I didn’t understand what he meant but it didn’t matter to me.
The tarn ride had a profound effect on me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I was in an euphoric state, like having taken a drug. I wanted more. I was thinking about the flight so much that it took me awhile to notice Trem kept looking at a particular paga slave. She was short, had dark complexion, with black hair and brown eyes. She had a nice figure with sweet hips and shapely firm breasts. In America, I would have guessed her to be a Mexican or Latino.
Trem had friends who he knew and greeted on the Top Perch and some of them sat with us. Some of them gave me strange looks, probably because of my odd older appearance. I couldn’t follow their conversation very well but it seemed that a lot of people were talking about the war. Argentum was at war with a city called Corcyrus and though the war was going well for Argentum, most people thought that it would have been over by now. I asked Trem about the war, but he said he didn’t want to talk about the war. The dark beauty paga slave walked by and he watched every step she took until she went behind the rooftop bar.
“You like her?”
“Her name is Ria, she is my favourite slut at the Tarn,” he said.
“She looks fun.”
“Yes,” he said and stood up. He then went to one of the paga attendants at the bar. The paga attendant called Ria and she came to him. I noticed her smile when she saw Trem. Trem walked her to the staircase and they went down. I have no doubt that they were heading for the closest unoccupied alcove.
I ordered another paga from the next paga slave to come by and finished my second tabuk order. This one was made from thinly sliced tabuk cooked rare and rolled over a crunchy vegetable that was inside. Delectable!
Then I started to look at all the paga slaves working this floor. I was in the habit of getting my monies worth for the price of my paga. Eventually a brunette with blue eyes and a great smile caught my eye. I took her downstairs in search of my own alcove.
A great chapter with wonderfully vivid writing. Lots of clear detail.
ReplyDelete