Barbarian of Gor Chapter Thirty Two

 

My breath had the rasping sound of a punctured aqualung, and I felt a tightness in my chest as if an anvil had been placed there pressing down on me. It was so hard to breathe. 

 

“You’re dying, Roland,” said Sally Reeve as she watched my face turn purple. “Well, I mean, we’re all dying of course, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day – it’s the nature of the human condition, isn’t it? Ever since I was born I started to decay. Do you know that song?  But you’re sort of a hundred metres sprinter now, so close to the finishing line compared to all the marathon runners out there. The toxin is working its way through your body. Does it hurt?”

 

I sucked in some partial breath and felt my lungs burn as I did so. I couldn’t speak more than a word or two.

 

“I think it does hurt. Why didn’t you listen to me before? Women are superior to men in all respects, save for a few inconsequential physical traits. And I think I’ve just demonstrated that, haven’t I?” She leaned forward, not afraid of me anymore. “Will it be a little easier if I kiss you, hmm?” My lips were numb from the toxin, but I was vaguely aware of Sally kissing me. “I honestly will miss you, Roland. If it’s any consolation…” she laughed to herself in a self-conscious manner. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I’ve thought about you a few times since the Inn. Can I tell you a secret? Just between you and me? Just before you die? Will you promise to never tell anyone?”

 

Another tortured breath. Another wracking spasm of pain. I tried to lift my right hand but it barely cleared the cobblestone paving slabs. It felt so heavy, so I let it fall. 

 

“I was actually rather turned on by what you said that morning when we fucked in the woods. You know, the way you were pretending to be in control as I mounted you. It was actually really erotic. I just thought you should know.” She tossed her head as her hair hung in front of her nose. Without the pin holding it back, her hair was now as loose as that of a slave. “I really need to get my hair cut,” she said. “it’s growing far too long, but that seems to be the fashion on Gor for Free Women. They grow it so long and then they bind the hair above their heads in elaborate coiffures. Honestly, it takes me an hour each morning before I’m ready to go out. Such a waste of time.” She traced her fingers over my chest, but I didn’t feel anything. “Three nights ago I actually dreamt I was your slave. Can you imagine that? Me, Miss Sally Reeve, your slave, wearing a steel collar that proclaimed me your property. How preposterous. There’s no accounting for any logic to our dreams, is there?”

 

I began to feel very cold. Paralysis was beginning to grip my body.

 

“It shouldn’t have happened this way,” said Sally, sadly. “We’re both from Earth. That common bond should have meant something. We should have helped each other on this alien world. Why did we have to fight? There is a whole different life we could have had together if Corcyrus and Argentum hadn’t been at war. Last time we met I left you to die and just walked away. Obviously that was a mistake,” said Sally as she stooped to pick up her nine inch hair pin. In her hands it proved to be a lethal weapon. “I felt sorry for you, I suppose. And as you said, I’m not really a killer at heart. But I had to defend myself. Look at you – I’ll admit you’re very strong. I can imagine you would easily overpower me. Force me to my knees. The things you would do to me! Men are beasts like that. So, this will be a mercy killing. You’re going to die anyway, but I’ll try and make it quick for you.”

 

There was a sudden blur of motion from the side and I heard Sally suddenly scream as she was struck across the side of her head with a sharp switch. I think she had turned her face just in time to save herself from losing an eye.

 

Kayra was suddenly there, standing between her and my dying body, She held the slave switch that Adam had given her and she was facing off against Sally Reeve.

 

“She-Sleen!” hissed Kayra as she struck suddenly at Sally’s right hand before Sally could recover from the first blow. The switch struck the hair pin from Sally’s hand and once again it clattered on the cobblestones. Sally backed away, clutching the back of her right hand with the palm of her left. “Argentum slut!" cried Kayra as she made ready to strike again.  

 

It was all too late for me. The poison from the hair pin was shutting down my body as each ihn ticked by. 

 

Another breath that felt like swallowing razors. 

 

Kayra seemed to suddenly turn into a hissing and spitting hellcat as she attacked Sally, striking out again and again with her switch. Sally shrieked, screamed, held her hands before her face to ward off blows. Red weals marked her arms where the sleeves of her gowns slipped down past her gloves to reveal soft, previously blemish free skin. What was Kayra doing here? Had she followed me? Why wasn’t she with Adam and Felix?

 

And suddenly there was further motion – other people appearing from the mouth of the alley, having been drawn here by the noise and commotion. Men rushed forward and seized Kayra, swiftly disarming her.

 

“She’s attacking a Free Woman,” one of the men cried.

 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said another man.

 

“Is that her companion on the ground?” asked a third.

 

I tried to hold back from breathing, knowing the agony I would endure with another breath, but at last I had to concede and take that breath. It was even worse than before.

 

“Let me go! Let me go!” screamed Kayra as she was thrust down onto her belly and her wrists were drawn behind her back and swiftly bound with capture knots by one of the men. 

 

“My slave attacked me!” cried Sally. I tried to say something but couldn’t.

 

“She’s your slave?” said man.

 

“Yes, she’s my slave. Little spiteful Kayra.”

 

“I’m not her slave!” howled Kayra. 

 

“I was attacked by that man,” said Sally. She must have been pointing at me. “He tried to….” with her veils ripped from her face, and with the clasps at the front of her gown ripped away, it was obvious what kind of assault she had endured. “I defended myself with a hair pin. See – there it is.” She pointed at the cobblestones. The men however did not allow her to retrieve her weapon. One of the men had a square of rep cloth and he carefully picked the weapon up using the rep cloth to protect his skin from any residual venom.

 

“Your accent is not native to Torcadino,” said a third man. “Where is your Home Stone?”

 

“Argentum,” she said. 

 

“Let me see your papers,” said the man, holding out his hand.

 

“Why? I am the victim here. Why should I show you my papers! You have no authority here.”

 

Two of the men took hold of Sally – one holding each of her wrists. The third man reached into her pouch and found her residency papers. 

 

“He attacked me!” cried Sally. “I defended myself.” All three of the men regarded the deep valley between her breasts that was now exposed from the torn gown. They also regarded her unveiled face. 

 

“That is to be determined,” said the first man. “You used poison?”

 

“Yes! I am a woman, so I used poison.”

 

“I think he’s dying,” said a man crouched beside me. “I’m a physician. The toxin will kill him.” Again, I tried to speak, but nothing came out.  

 

“Why does the slave say she doesn’t belong to you?” asked the third man, he who seemed the most suspicious of Sally.

 

“She hates me. The slut hates me. She has hated me for years. She wants to be owned by a man.”

 

“I am owned by a man!” cried Kayra. 

 

“Be quiet, slave,” said the first man.

 

“No,” said the third man, “let the slave speak.”

 

“I am the property of Roland of Corcyrus,” cried Kaya. “I am his slave.”

 

“it is unusual for a slave to claim she is owned by a random man who attacks her mistress in an alleyway,” said the third man.

 

“She lies all the time,” said Sally. She struggled a little with her wrists but seemed to be held firmly on either side. “Let me go!”

 

“You have papers for the slave?” asked the third man.

 

“Not on me. Why would I carry them with me? In any event, the same can be said for the sleen who attacked me. He carries no papers of ownership for this slave, because he has never owned her.”

 

“It is true,” said the second man as he searched my body. “Though he carries a lot of money in his purse. And he has papers that state he is a slaver from Corcyrus.”

 

“See!” said Sally in triumph. “He tried chain luck on me! I would expect nothing less of a Corcyrian sleen!”

 

“Slavers do not roam the streets of Torcadino, or any other city for that matter, preying on Free Women,” said the third man. “It is unheard of. Their caste is honourable and they understand the laws of a city. If he is a slaver then he is the very last person to try and assault a Free Woman within a city.”

 

“He is obviously insane,” said Sally. She was being held very tightly. “Look, the evidence is unmistakable. My gown is torn. My veils are gone. My hair is loose. Clearly I didn’t do this to myself.”

 

“She has a point,” said the second man.

 

“This slave isn’t branded,” said the physician as he began examining Kayra. She squealed as he drew up the hem of her brief garment. 

 

“She is a recent purchase,” said Sally. “I was going to have her branded now that I am staying in your city for a few days.”

 

“You said the slave has hated you for several years,” said the third man.

 

“I… I meant she has hated me since I bought her.”

 

“I am the slave of Roland of Corcyrus,” said Kayra again. 

 

“This slave is fairly certain she isn’t owned by you,” said the third man to Sally.

 

“Would you take the word of a slave over the word of a Free Woman?”

 

“She has a point,” said the second man.

 

“It is a shame we cannot question the dying man,” said the third man. “It would be interesting to hear what the slaver had to say on the matter.”

 

“He attacked me!” said Sally again. “I have every right to defend myself!”

 

“I do not like women using poison,” said the physician as he rolled the brief tunic hem down about Kayra’s thighs. “It is dishonourable.”

 

“My gown is torn,” said Sally, “Please, at least let me cover myself.”

 

The third man nodded and indicated that Sally’s wrists should be released. She obviously understood that any attempt to flee now would be viewed as highly suspicious. And in any event, hobbled by the ankle length skirts she would never be able to outrun the three men if they gave chase. 

 

“Thank you,” said Sally as she held the fabric of her torn gown to conceal her bosom. “My veils?”

The second man held her torn veils in his right hand. Sally took them and pressed the veil fabric to her lower face with her left, while her right hand clutched the torn fabric of her gown. Both her hands were now occupied, which suited the men.

 

“You are the Lady Salena?” said the third man as he examined her papers. The fact he could read them suggested he was a scribe. Most men on Gor couldn’t read.

 

“Yes! Yes, I am. I am the Lady Salena of Argentum. You will find all my papers in order.”

 

“Men will be the judge of that,” said the third man, sharply.

 

“Of course. I only meant I am doing everything I can to co-operate,” said Sally.

 

“It’s a fair point,” said the second man. “She is doing her best to co-operate.”

 

“I had a slave called Salena once,” said the physician. “She was a hot little thing in the furs.”

 

“Salena is not a slave name,” said Sally, sharply.

 

“I have seen it given to slaves before,” said the third man. “Often it is a Gorean variation on the barbarian slave name of Sally.”

“Sally is a lovely name for a slave,” said the physician. “Even lovelier than Salena. I see no need to change it. I would buy a girl called Sally.”

 

“Salena is NOT a slave name,” said Sally. “Many Free Women are called Salena.”

 

“it is unfortunate for them, then, that men regard it as a suitable name for a barbarian slave.”

 

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” said Sally. 

 

“Barbarian slaves are hot and juice easily,” remarked the second man. “They are to be recommended.”

 

“Please let me go,” said Sally. “I am permitted to carry a poison hair pin according to Torcadino law.”

“That is true,” admitted the third man, “but that does not mean you are entitled to use a poisoned hair pin within the walls of Torcadino. That is a very different matter.”

 

“The man attacked me!” cried Sally. She continued to cover her lower face and bosom with both hands. “What was I supposed to do?”

 

“Even so, there is not an automatic right for a woman to use poison if Torcadino is not her Home Stone.” He glanced again at Sally’s residency papers. “Why did you come to Torcadino?”

 

“The war,” said Sally. “It rages on between Argentum and Corcyrus. Nowhere is truly safe. Of course Argentum will win, but...”

 

“You are a refugee?” asked the physician. 

 

“I didn’t arrive here penniless,” said Sally, quick to make the men understand she had the means to support herself. “I am not a burden on Torcadino.” Those who fled Corcyrus or Argentum and arrived at the gates of the city without the means to pay their way would not have been permitted to enter. The third man retrieved her purse from her pouch. “That is mine!” said Sally.

 

“We are not thieves,” said the third man. He examined the contents of the purse. “Interesting. The coins are all minted in Torcadino. None of them bear the stamp of your own city?”

 

Sally said nothing. Obviously, the funds had been provided by agents of Argentum upon her arrival. 

 

“I also find your papers of interest, Lady Salena. Can you read? Are you literate?”

 

“No,” she said. 

 

“It is noted that you entered the city by tarn basket.”

 

“So?” Sally shook her head again.

 

“It is unusual for a Free Woman to be flown to the city by a tarnsman.”

 

“But it is hardly a crime. This man attacked me!” She indicated my body. “Why am I being questioned here! I am the victim!”

 

“Are you?” The third man gazed at her. “Why do you claim this is your slave?”

 

“She is my slave. Give her to me and let me go!”

 

“Why were you walking down this narrow side alley, Lady Salena?” asked the third man. “It is hardly a place where an unaccompanied Free Woman might venture if she was on honest business?”

 

“I was lost. I’m unfamiliar with your city.”

 

“This is all plausible,” said the second man. “Men should listen to Free Women.”

 

“Thank you,” Said Sally. 

 

“I think the man is now dead,” said the physician. “May the Priest Kings ease his sad passing.” I had lost all sense of sight, and my hearing was rapidly fading. I felt as if I was wrapped in soft cotton wool and felt very much at peace. I supposed this is what happens in your last moments of life, when the brain is flooded with chemicals to ease the pain. It had been an eventful life, and there were few things I regretted before I came to Gor. And now it would all be over.

 

And then I died.

 

Or so it seemed. 

 

Time passed as I gradually felt my body coming back to life. I felt sharp pains through my limbs as feeling and circulation slowly returned. I was naked and cold, and I lay on a marble slab in what seemed to be a mortuary. Around me there were other bodies, also naked, each one tagged around the right wrist. It was dark and silent wherever I was, with only a little moonlight passing through some narrow barred windows set high up on the walls. I felt very weak, as if I was making a slow recovery from Covid, and I had the mother of all hangovers.

 

Aside from the dead, I was very much alone.