Barbarian of Gor Chapter Twenty Nine

The play had concluded by the time I emerged back into the theatrical field. Now the stage was being cleared of its various props and makeshift scenery, and the actresses were no doubt readying themselves to receive the first of their amorous visitors. Not everyone had moved on yet. I could see maybe fifty to sixty men still loitering in the field, drinking and laughing. Behind me, the paga tent belonging to Rubin Clegane would continue to do good business. Another of the tent’s paga slaves hurried past me, skipping lightly on the balls of her feet to deliver paga to a group of men on my left. She was lovely, but she wasn’t Kelly Milford. My mind was focussed now on two direct questions – would Clegane sell Kelly to me, and, assuming he would, what would her price be?

 

I checked my funds. They were sufficient for day to day living, and living well, but Kelly would not be cheap. She was obviously an asset to the paga tavern, and by now many men would be familiar with her service and would visit simply to enjoy her in particular. One should never underestimate the value of an established paga slave. Men can be sentimental, returning time and time again for the same girl. Replacing Kelly ran the risk of turning away some of her regular customers. 

 

Torches and lanterns now illuminated the theatrical field and other fields beyond this one. The more extravagant areas also enjoyed the benefit of energy bulbs that provided artificial illumination many times more powerful than Earth light bulbs. But energy bulbs were expensive and most market stalls in the Fair wouldn’t stretch that far. 

 

I felt a yearning for Kelly despite my having already had her tonight. Putting her to use the once only made me want to be with her again. The more I thought back to our previous encounters the harder it became for me to accept I wouldn’t be sleeping with her curled against my body tonight. Her absence actually felt painful. Would she feel the same? I didn’t want to delude myself that I was in any way her Love Master, but there was no mistaking the emotions she stirred in me. My imagination ran riot and I conjured up in my mind all manner of nightmare scenarios where some other man was speaking to Rubin Clegane at this very moment, offering a pouch of silver to buy her. 

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Twenty Eight

 

Kelly fucking Milford… standing before me in diaphanous pleasure silk.

 

She had of course spilled the paga the moment she recognised me. In fairness, I might have done the same if I were in her place. 

 

“Kelly,” I said, as I gazed down at her. Her mouth opened and then closed in shock surprise. Those lips were perfectly rouged, as would be expected of a paga slave. Spilled paga slopped around on the tray, much to Felix’s anguish. 

 

I instantly remembered the train, the tent, our frantic love making back on Earth. I have enjoyed a lot of women since all this began, but I think Kelly had been the hottest girl I’d had so far. There was an unfettered passion that seemed to take control of her when she was aroused, and from memory she became aroused very quickly. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise that she had ended up as a paga slave. Of course she was a paga slave. 

 

“Our paga!” Felix cried. “Clumsy slave!”

 

“Please forgive me, Master,” cried Kelly, as she suddenly realised what had happened. This was bad for any paga slave. Such a girl did not risk spilling anything from the cups. If she did she would have to return to the paga tent to obtain replacements. She would be punished, if not immediately, because the tent was probably very busy by now, then later, after the tent had closed. In all likelihood the girl would be whipped and then caged. Paga slaves did not spill paga, not ever. It was the worst thing they could possibly do. 

 

“It’s okay, Felix, I’ve got this.”

 

“She spilled our paga!”

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Twenty Seven

 

The two ‘free women’ who took to the stage were of course luscious kajirae dressed in the type of theatrical garb that was common place to represent robed and veiled women. While they wore robes of concealment to a point, said robes were of cheap but brightly coloured rep cloth fabric and were cut high on the calves of the women, showing off rather more of the lower legs than an actual free woman would ever be comfortable with.

 

“I’ve bought some nuts roasted in honey,” said Felix as he returned from the nearby market stalls to flaunt a sweet smelling paper bag under our noses. Nearby men were walking around the theatre field beginning to light torches and lanterns that hung from poles hammered into the soft ground.

 

“What about our paga?” asked Adam.

 

“That’s coming. I paid an extra copper tarsk bit it so I wouldn’t have to carry the paga from the tent. I didn’t want to spill any of it. It’s a boisterous crowd and it’ll only get more rowdy once the actresses start to strip.”

 

Which of course they would. This was a Boots Tarsk Bit play, and that generally followed a predictable format. 

 

“Honey nuts?” said Felix as he offered the bag to me.

 

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Twenty Six

 

It rained solidly for the next two days, which seemed to reflect my dour, gloomy mood as we marched even closer to Torcadino. We were now well in the sphere of control claimed by that city state and with each passing pasang under our feet there was less chance that foreign enemy forces might penetrate deeply enough to intercept us. The closer we got to the city walls the better the outlying security imposed by that state’s military forces became. 

 

The heavy rain added to our optimism for it meant that our scent would be washed away, making it difficult for tracking sleen to find us. Not that I believed there were any tracking sleen following us.

 

Refugees from Corcyrus became few and far between now that we had put some considerable distance between us and the city walls. In truth, most citizens had chosen to remain in their city, for Corcyrus was said to still be fighting with grim determination, and most citizens will not abandon their Home Stone until all hope is lost. That said, we heard stories that Ar had sent some legions to bolster the armed might of Argentum, and now the struggle was weighted heavily on the side of our enemy. The fog of war meant we couldn’t be sure what was happening at the frontline, nor where the frontline now stood, but Adam confirmed one night that our city’s situation would be very grim indeed if we failed to secure aid from Torcadino.

 

“We need their armies,” he said. “The warriors of Corcyrus are dying in their hundreds every day to buy us enough time to secure an alliance. We can’t let their deaths be in vain.” His words were meant especially for me. “We don’t have the luxury of self-pity, Roland. I understand you have suffered more than one tragedy, but this is bigger than you or me. Our men, our women, and our children hope with each passing day that Torcadino will come to their aid. That is all that should concern you.”

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Twenty Five

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. These men were my brothers. 

 

I ran towards Rolfe as he lay on his back in the damp grass, his body convulsing from two well aimed gun shot wounds. His sword lay fallen, several yards away from his right hand.

 

“Rolfe!” I dropped to my knees beside him and pressed down with my hands on the most serious looking of the two gunshot wounds, trying hard to staunch the blood flow. He seemed to be in shock. “Stay with me!” I cried. “Keep your eyes open, damn you! You’re not going to die! You’re not going to die!”

 

“Sword…” he croaked as blood coated his lips. “My sword… the Gods…” the fingers of his right hand opened and closed futilely, trying to reach a hilt that was beyond his grasp. “Roland… my sword…”

Barbarian of Gor Chapter Twenty Four

 

Rolfe reached the top of the summit and took a moment to gaze directly at me with an ambiguous expression.

 

“Roland,” he said, after a slight pause.

 

“Rolfe,” I said back. “It is good to see you, brother.”

 

“No it isn’t,” said Rolfe. His heavy shield was already unslung from his shoulders and he had it gripped with his left arm. “I see you have fallen in with new sword brothers.” His eyes regarded Adam and Felix, seemingly sizing them up.

 

“They are good men, Rolfe,” I began. “This is Adam, and this is…”

 

“Their names are irrelevant,” said Rolfe, cutting me off. “I do not need to be introduced to men who will soon be dead.”

Boo!

 

Okay, so it’s been a longer break than I originally intended…

 

I am the kajira of understatement at times! Frankly, I’m astonished you’ve all still been logging on, re-reading past stories and patiently waiting with a patience that Gorean men rarely show with kajirae. The 'views' counter has notched up nearly two million views which is remarkable, considering I do nothing at all to promote this site.

 

You can expect some new chapters beginning next week, though I think I have to re-read my earlier chapters to remember all the intricacies before I tap away on anything new!

 

I currently have four books in an unfinished state, so I’m going to knuckle down and concentrate on finishing each of them in turn. I’m probably going to begin with finishing the Roland trilogy (Barbarian of Gor), then do the same with The Shadow in the Dark, and then go back to Beware the Savage Jaw, before finally concluding Cassandra’s book, Secrets of Gor. That, and I need to remember how to format things on Blogger! It's easy to forget when I've been away for a year... 

 

There are probably some feedback comments to catch up on, too, so I’ll take a look at those soon. 😊