Barbarian of Gor Chapter Eighteen

 

I’ll say one thing for the lovely huntresses – their saddle bags contained an abundance of treasures.

 

“That’s the best smoked bacon I’ve eaten in a while,” said Felix as he devoured his breakfast. Being staked out for the sexual pleasure of women seems to give a man a hearty appetite. There were also cheeses and olives and sa-tarna bread and some liver Pâté and a few bottles of red ka-la-na, though we agreed it was a bit early in the day to open those.   

 

Livinnia, Mishka and Svetlana sat on the grass in a Harl ring chain arrangement, watching us eat, with sullen expressions on their faces. The Harl ring is named after the famous slaver, Harl of Turia, who first used it with his own coffles of girls. The Harl ring consists of four pieces. First, there is a metal ankle ring that locks onto a slave's ankle. It is secure and cannot be slipped. Second, on the back of the ankle ring is welded a closed metal loop. Third, on the front of the ankle ring, is another closed metal loop. The fourth and final part of the Harl ring arrangement is the addition of a chain that can be threaded through either of the two ankle rings. The chain typically ends in a locking device that can be secured to or through the back of a second ankle ring. It is a very versatile item and can be used to chain a girl to nearly anything. A closed Harl ring arrangement is where you lock the chain on its own ankle ring around a tree, pole or similar item. Harl rings are frequently used to form slave coffles and typically a single key will lock and unlock all of the rings on such a slave coffle. 

 

We found the Harl rings and a decent length of chain in one of the saddle bags. Now each of the huntresses had a Harl ring locked about her left ankle, despite their strident protests. We had run the length of chain across the meadow glade, threading it through each of the front shackle rings and then fastening both ends to trees at either end of the glade. The girls could therefore move along the length of the chain if they wished, but couldn’t stray from where it lay. Obviously enough they were unable to move anywhere near our weapons. They had at first explored their limited line of movement, glancing surreptitiously at the pile of discarded blades, bows and javelins that lay well out of their reach, but then after a while they had settled back down somewhere in the middle of the chain arrangement. 

 

It was a fresh bright, and clear morning and I felt in very good spirits. The fourth huntress, Danata, lay on the grass, and she too wore a Harl ring about her left ankle, but she was resting and recovering from her wound. My arrow had not killed her as I had feared it might. The Gods of Gor were with her, it seemed. I had tended the wound myself with the contents of another saddle bag. The caste of Physicians has in its time produced marvellous medicines, and the girls were well stocked in that regard. I was able to remove the arrow head, after applying a local anaesthetic so that Danata wouldn’t feel me digging inside her flesh with medical instruments. There was a pale blue solution to disinfect the wound, and a syringe containing a serum that would promote rapid cellular healing. I applied a sterile field dressing and instructed the weakened girl to get some rest. She would need it.

 

In amongst the medicines were some tablets that appeared to be the Gorean equivalent of Benzedrine. Taking one would give you an energy boost that might see you through a dangerous few hours. Similar tablets have been in military use for decades on Earth. Helicopter pilots in the Vietnam war routinely carried the stuff in case they came down in enemy territory and need ed to make their way on foot back to their own lines.  

 

“What are we going to do with them?” asked Laetitia. 

 

“What would you like to do with them?” I answered back.

 

“They are our enemies.”

 

“So they are.”

 

Laetitia turned and gazed at the three huntresses, prompting Mishka to call out, “do not look at me, slave!”

 

“I am not a slave,” said Laetitia.

 

“You wear a slave collar,” said Mishka.

 

“It is my disguise.” She smiled. “My disguise was good enough to fool you all last night, so-called huntresses.”

 

“Who put you in the collar?” asked Mishka. But Laetitia chose not to answer. She turned away and ignored them.

 

I crouched down beside Adamus. We would confer now that we had eaten well. 

 

“The women were clearly an advance party,” speculated Adamus. “Their men will be close behind them.”

 

“The huntresses were reckless to head out on their own,” I said. “Overconfidence blinded them to more practical common sense.”

 

“They will be missed soon when they don’t report back. I give them until lunch time before their men grow concerned. I’m hoping a search will be made for them, and that search will slow down the overall pursuit.”

 

“I wouldn’t count on it. This is Stannis Assante’s cavalry troop. Yes, he will be concerned for the safety of his woman, but he will not compromise looking for us. He knows we’re here. Miss Sally Reeve has made that clear.”

 

“Does he not care for his woman?” Adamus glanced back at Livinnia. She sat beside Mishka and Svetlana, all three now part of the chain arrangement. The huntresses still wore their hunting garments, though I had searched each one for concealed weapons, finding a few small knives in the process. I had then unbound their hair, removing their ribbons, and had combed the hair of each girl thoroughly in case there were any poison pins. I found none. I don’t believe these women use such overly feminine weapons. 

 

“Give us back our ribbons,” said Mishka. The ribbons were part of their culture and a sign that they were free women, not kajirae. Only slaves wear their hair loose and unbound. The huntresses routinely swept their hair up and secured it in place with their tribal ribbons as a sign of their free status. 

 

“Do you know me now?” I asked, as I approached the Harl ring coffle. Unlike the other huntresses, Mishka’s legs were bare as I had taken her legging hose to create  a makeshift gag last night. I tried not to gaze too avidly at her bare flesh. I had after all been many days without the delights of a woman in my arms. 

 

“Yes, now that I can see you. Where is Kulai, our sister?”

 

“I am sorry,” I said. “I really am.”

 

Mishka’s expression hardened. “She was your woman to protect.”

 

“And I failed her. I will carry the shame of that failure with me for the rest of my life, MIshka.”

 

“She loved you.”

 

“I know.” I gave the hair ribbons back to Mishka, Svetlana and Livinnia. It was an important symbol to them. The ribbons designated them as free women. “And I loved her, too.”

 

“And yet you let her die?”

 

“I did everything I could, Mishka. Please believe me.” It was a kindness to let her think Kulai was dead. I didn’t want her to carry the shame that her sister was now a slave. Better that she had the comfort of thinking that Kulai had remained free until the very end. 

 

“Not everything. You survived, I see.” And then she spat directly in my face. I took it without complaint. I felt I deserved it.

 

I crouched and watched as the women gathered their hair back and bound it in place with their ribbons. They seemed prouder, more sure of themselves now that their hair was swept up from their shoulders once again. Only slaves wear their hair unbound. 

 

“You have locked us in Harl rings,” said Svetlana. 

 

“I think it’s safer for everyone concerned. If you tried to escape we might be forced to kill you. I wouldn’t want that.”

 

“You care for me, then?” asked Mishka.

 

“You are Kulai’s sister.” I didn’t add that she was far too beautiful to be killed. 

 

“I do not care for you. You had one duty in life – to protect your woman. You are no man that I recognise.”

 

“Do not try and escape, Mishka.”

 

She smiled at me.

 

“Please do not do that. These other men do not know you, as I do. They do not care for you at all. They will not show you any mercy if you attempt anything.”

 

“I am your captive,” said Mishka. “I have said as much.”

 

With a sigh I returned to Adamus and Felix.

 

“Should I ask?” enquired Adamus.

 

“I spent some time in their camp. It was a lifetime ago, when I was an outlaw, before I became a citizen of Corcyrus and swore myself to our city.”

 

“And you’re telling us this now? That you spent time in the camp of Stannis Assante? Eating his meat, drinking his wine? Sharing his salt? Another man might be concerned about hearing this news so far into our mission, Roland.”

 

“Another man would do well to remember he was saved from being raped and tortured just a few ahn ago. I’m not sure what more I can do to prove myself than that.”

 

“I trust you, brother,” said Felix as he placed his hand on my shoulder. “I have no doubts. None whatsoever.”

 

Adamus smiled. I still couldn’t work out what was going on inside that head of his. 

 

“Felix wants to put one of the women to use,” said Adamus. “I suspect we all need something like that.”

 

“We don’t have time for that,” I said. “We can’t waste our head start.”

 

“True enough. But you have no objections to us doing so later?”

 

Actually I had a lot of objections. Frankly they could do what they liked with Livinnia, but Danata was injured and even if she wasn’t, like Svetlana and Mishka, they were sort of family due to my companionship with Kulai. “They are captives,” I said. “They fought well, and should be treated well.”

 

Felix stared at me with an incredulous look, as if I’d just said something incredibly stupid. “Sword brother, they are women taken in battle. We have captor rights over them.”

“I have captor rights over them,” I corrected him. “I don’t recall either of you bringing a single huntress down?”

“Which is why we’re being polite and asking your permission,” said Adamus. “We are sword brothers and we should share such things.”

 

“I have past history with these women. Well, maybe not Livinnia.”

 

“They are the enemy and this is war,” said Felix. He gazed at Mishka, and her bare legs in particular. “They are spoils of war. That is how it is on Gor. Your world may be different, brother, but you are with us now. Let me use the one who flaunts her bare legs.”

 

“Do what you like with Livinnia,” I said. “I owe her nothing. But not the others.”

 

“That’s probably not wise,” said Adamus. “We have a way to go yet before we reach the safety of the perimeter of Torcadino, and if Stannis Assante catches up with us, we may wish to bargain with Livinnia’s life. I don’t think we’d be likely to get very good terms if he found out that we’d raped his woman. She, unfortunately, has to remain untouched. The others, though…”

 

“I can’t let you have them,” I said. “I owe their sister, Kulai, that much at least.”

 

“She was your Free Companion?” asked Felix. “But now enslaved?”

 

“Yes,” I had mentioned Kulai in passing on the road to Torcadino, though I had skipped over all the details, for the memory of what happened was still raw in my mind. 

 

“The free companionship ended the moment she became a slave. Her identity as a free woman ended then, too. You have no responsibility to her sisters anymore.”

 

“That’s harsh.”

 

“It is our way,” said Felix. “What other connection do you possibly have? Shared caste? No. Shared Home Stone? No. Family blood? No. These women tried to kill you, brother.”

 

“Let Felix use one of the women tonight,” suggested Adamus. 

 

“And you, too, I suppose?” I said.

 

Adamus gestured warmly with the open palm of his right hand. “It would be a kindness, Roland. I wouldn’t decline the offer.”

 

I gazed back at my lovely captives. Their fate lay squarely in my hands. “I’m still going to have to say no.”

 

“Suppose I was to give you an order,” said Adamus after a while.

 

“Try it,” I said. For a moment we simply stared at one another.

 

“Captain, we cannot take his property. It is not right.” Felix switched his gaze between the two of us. 

 

“Like Felix said.” Adamus and I seemed locked in a staring contest now. “Felix, could you give us a moment?”

 

The man nodded and rose to his feet. “I’ll clear the camp.”

 

I waited a few ihn and then I finally said it. “We need to talk, Adamus. Ever since we set out from Corcyrus it’s been evident to me that you don’t like me, and you don’t trust me. Why?”

 

“You were foisted upon me,” he said, after a moment’s thought. “I already had the third man chosen for our group and then the Tatrix informed me that the third man would be you. I don’t know you, but what I do know, I don’t like. You’re an Earth man, and I have a very low opinion of men and women from our world.”

 

“You’re an Earth man,” I pointed out.

 

“I’m the exception to my rule. And also you’re an outlaw, Roland. I don’t trust outlaws.”

 

“Okay, then let’s talk about you, Adamus. I’m going to come clean now. I saw you in Argentum, walking down the road, bold as brass, like you lived there. Care to explain that?”

 

“If you saw me in Argentum then you were in Argentum, too. Your point being?”

 

“Yeah, but here’s the thing – you were by all accounts a trusted Corcyrian back then. So what were you doing in Argentum? Does the Tatrix know?”

 

“I should think so. She sent me there after all.”

 

“I’m supposed to believe you had some mission in Argentum? Top secret James Bond stuff?”

 

“Something like that, yes.”

“And of course you’re not going to tell me what this theoretical mission was?”

“Wisely observed.”

“And of course no one other than the Tatrix can corroborate your story?”

 

“That is also true.”

 

“So here’s the thing. You have a quick and convenient answer that I can’t disprove, but you and I have met before. Before Argentum.”

 

Adamus seemed to consider this for a moment. “Is that so.”

 

“On Earth. London to be precise. You were a burglar, dressed in black and you broke into the town house of Miss Felicity Emery. I know because I was there that night. I interrupted you and we fought upstairs in her bedroom.”

 

“Ah.” Adamus showed little outward reaction to this revelation, but he had to be surprised by it. “Now I wasn’t expecting that.”

 

“You don’t deny it?”

 

“Well…” he smiled. “You seem very certain. I suspect there’s little point.”

 

“The Tatrix doesn’t know about your past on Earth, does she?”

 

“Not a great deal, no.”

 

“So why should I trust you? You see my dilemma? You broke into a woman’s house, tied her up, and presumably tried to steal something.”

 

“That I did.” Adamus sighed. “Very well. What do you want to know?”

 

“What were you looking for that night?”

 

“Miss Emery is the heir to one of the Great American families. Each family owns a ring that can grant its wearer passage to and from Gor. No questions asked. But you know that, don’t you?” He watched my reactions carefully.

 

“Go on.”

 

“I needed that ring, or rather a ring, to get to Gor.”

 

“And why did you want to come to Gor? How did you know about Gor?”

 

“I’ll save your second question for later. It’s something of a long story and we need to move as soon as Felix has everything ready. But as to why I wanted to come here… why I needed to come here. Well, they took my slave. They took the woman I love.” 

 

“Your slave? And who is they? Gorean slavers?”

 

“The very same.”

 

“You had a slave on Earth? Really? How does that work, exactly?”

 

“Yes. Yes I did. So you see, Roland, we have both suffered a loss when it comes to women. Only I have come here now to this planet to  get my property back. My name is Adam Reith, and I am looking for a woman who was abducted to Gor from a landing field in the New Forest. Her name is Caitlin Ambrose.”