Savages of Gor

4 We See Smoke; We Encounter Soldiers

I thrust my shoulder against the giant wooden wheel of the slave wagon.

I heard, ahead, the crying out of the driver, the snapping of his long whip overthe backs of the two draft tharlarion harnessed to the wagon.

"Pull, lazy beasts!" he cried.

Knee deep in the mire I thrust, slipping, against the thick wooden wheel.

The wheel moved and the wagon, groaning, creaking, lurched upward and rolledforward.

I waded about the wagon and then attained the graveled surface and, running,caught up with the wagon, and drew myself up to the wagon box, beside thedriver.

"Why do you wish to find Grunt?" asked the driver, a young man with shaggy hair,cut short across the base of his neck.

"I am searching for something which may be in the Barrens," I said.

"Stay out of them," warned the young man. "It can be death to enter them."

"Grunt comes and goes, as I understand it," I said.

"Some, merchants and traders, are permitted, by some of the tribes," said theyoung man.

"Of all," I said, "I have heard that he is most welcome in the Barrens, andtravels furthest within them."

"That may be true," said the fellow.

"Why is that, I. wonder," I said.

"He speaks some Dust Leg, and some of the talk of other tribes," said thefellow. "Too, he knows sign."

"Sign?" I asked.

"Hand talk" said the young man. "It is the way the red savages of differenttribes communicate among one another. They cannot speak one another's languages,you know."

"I would suppose not," I admitted.

Hand sign, I suspected was the key to the capacity of the tribes to unite andprotect their territories against outside encroachment, that and what theycalled the Memory.

"Various traders, I suspect, know Hand Sign," I said.

"Several," said the young man.

"But, too, he knows some of the tribal languages," I said.

"Not so much," said the young man. "A few words and phrases. The savages comesometimes to the trading points. We learn something of one another's talk. Notmuch."

"Communication is largely conducted in Sign, then," I said.

"Yes," said the young man. He stood then and cracked the whip again over thebacks of the tharlarion. Then, again, he sat down.

"If various traders know Sign and some, too, have some smattering of some ofthese languages, what makes Grunt so special? Why is it he alone who ispermitted to venture so deeply into the Barrens?"

"Perhaps the savages feel they have nothing more to gain from Grunt," laughedthe young man.

"I do not understand," I said.

"You will," he said.

"Can we see the boundary from here? I asked. We were now at the crest of ahill.

"Not clearly, but it is out there," he said, pointing to our right. "See," heasked, "the low hills, the grassy hills, at the horizon?"

"Yes," I said.

"They are on the other side of the boundary," he said.

"When do we arrive at Fort Huskiness?" I asked him.

"Tomorrow morning," he said. "We will camp tonight."

"Master," said a soft, feminine voice, from behind timidly, "may a lowly slavespeak?"

"Yes," said the young man.

The wagon carried ten girls. The common Gorean slave wagon has a long bed,surmounted with rectangular frame, usually covered with blue-and-yellow canvas.

A long, solid, heavy metal bar, hinged near the front, and locked in place atthe rear, runs the length of the bed. The girls enter the wagon at the rear,crawling, their ankles chained, the bar between their legs. When the bar islocked in place their ankles, thus, are chained about it. This arrangement,while providing perfect security, permits them considerable latitude ofmovement. They may, for example, sit, or kneel or lie in the wagon bed, confinedonly by the chaining on their ankles. Here, however, near the perimeter, suchluxuries were seldom available. The wagon on which I rode had, obviously,originally been intended for the transportation of sleen. It was little morethan a sleen cage, of heavy, wooden poles, lashed together, its rear gatefastened with a chain and padlock, set a flat wagon bed. Because of the natureof the cage the 7 girls imprisoned within it were bound hand and foot.

"Our bonds are cruelly tight, Masters," said the girl. "We beg that they may beloosened, if only slightly."

The young man turned about, angrily, on the wagon box, and regarded the girl,who shrank back, on her knees, bound hand and foot, behind the bars.

"Be silent, Slave Girl," he said.

"Yes, Master!" she said.

"Rejoice that I do not stop the wagon and haul you out, each of you, and giveyou ten lashes apiece," he said.

"Yes, Master!" said the girl, struggling to move back on her knees from thebars.

"Yes, Master. Yes, Master!" said several of the other girls.

The young man then turned about, and gave his attention to the road and thetharlarionI smiled. The men of the perimeter do not pamper their slaves. Indeed, not evena blanket had been thrown into the wagon bed to soften the blows of thespringless cart, or to shield the flesh of the bound beauties from the splinteryroughness of the sturdy planks on which they rode. It is common, of course, bothin civilized areas and along the perimeter, to transport female slaves nude.

"It is interesting," I said, "that you do not have an armed escort."

"You are not a highwayman, are you?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"Women are generally cheap along the perimeter," he said.

"Why should this be?" I asked. That seemed to me surprising.

"The perimeter has been stable for over a century," he said. "Accordingly womenare generally no more scarce here than elsewhere."

"But why should they be cheap?" I asked.

"The savages," he said. "They raid in the south and sell in the north. They raidin the north and sell in the south."

I nodded. The perimeter was thousands of pasangs long. There were variousoutlying farms, and many settlements and villages.

"Do they sell all the items garnered in their flesh harvests?" I asked.

"No," he said. "They take some with them, back into the Barrens."

"What do they do with them there?" I asked.

"I do not know," laughed the young man. "Doubtless they put them to good use."

"Doubtless," I agreed. The red savages, I had no doubt, could find many usefulemployments for helpless, white female slaves.

"At what time tomorrow morning should we arrive at Fort Haskins?" I asked.

"I am scheduled to deliver my freight to Brint, the Slaver, at half past theninth Ahn," he said. "You may, of course, wish to leave the wagon before that."

I nodded. It would be pointless to stay longer than necessary with the wagon. Iwould stay with it until it reached its destination only if that destination layon the road to Kailiauk.

"What is to be done with these slaves?" I asked. "Are they to be sold in FortHaskins?"

"I think they are to be shipped west over the Boswell Pass," he said, "toThentis and, from thence, to be distributed to western markets."

"They had better be given something to wear," I said, "if they are to be carriedover the pass."

"They will be tied in hides," said the young man. "Because the trading hides arecheap in places like Fort Haskins and Kailiauk."

"There is another reason, a recent reason, why girls are so cheap in this area," said the young man.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Barbarians," he said.

"Barbarians?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, "unskilled, untrained, raw, luscious little beasts, many of whomcan speak almost no Gorean."

"Where do they come from?" I asked.

"I do not know," he said. "The source for their delivery to be somewhere in thevicinity of Kailiauk. They are not good for the market."

This information intrigued me. The delivery points for the slavers league withKurii shifted about on the surface of Gor. This practice, doubtless, wasintended to aid them to detection by Priest-Kings.

"Are these barbarians commonly shipped west over the Boswell Pass?" I asked.

"Almost never," said the young man. "They are generally taken south and,apparently, transported over the southern passes."

This new information confirmed my suspicions that these were indeed the fruitsof slaving on Earth. If they were transported over the Boswell Pass they might,eventually, come to the attention of Clark of Thentis, a slaver of Thentis, hadrendered services to Priest-Kings.

"Interesting," I said. The vicinity of Kailiauk, with its nearness to theBarrens, seemed a remote and useful place for a delivery point. Too, this mightexplain how the story might have come to the attention of Kurii. They might havean agent in Kailiauk, or in its vicinity.

"It is said that such barbarians, properly tamed and trained, make excellentslaves," said the young man.

"I am glad to hear that," I said.

"But I would not want to own one," said the young man.

"Have you ever owned one?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Then you should not speak so soon," I said.

"That is true," he said, laughing.

I myself thought the young man did not know what he was missing. Earth girls,brought to Gor after years of sexual starvation on Earth, finding themselvessuddenly subjected to total domination, finding themselves absolute slaves, evento the market and the whip, the brand and the collar, the touch of an insolentmaster, finding themselves given no choice but to release and manifest theirdeepest and most and beautiful, most profound, most hitherto hidden femalenature often made the most grateful, rapturous and perfect of slaves.

"Still," said the young man, "they are not good for the market."

"That may be true," I said. It seemed to me not unlikely that an influx ofbarbarian females, in a given area, at a given time, might depress prices. To besure, the slavers in league with the Kurii usually distributed these girlsthrough out various markets. This made the females more difficult to trace backto their delivery points and, of course, tended, on the whole, to improve theprices one could receive for them.

"It will soon be time to camp," said the young man.

"The slaves, I trust," I said, jerking my head back toward the lovely, boundinmates of the wagon, "are on their slave wine."

"Yes," laughed the young man.

"Please, Master," begged the girl who had spoken earlier to the young man,"when we camp, tie my neck to a tree and untie my ankles. "I desire to serveyou."

"No, I!" cried another girl. "I!" cried another.

The young man laughed. He saw the girls desired to placate him. But, too, ofcourse, to be honest, he was a handsome fellow, and they were bound femaleslaves. Carting such freight about does not pay high wages but there are fringebenefits connected with such work. If the girls are not virgins such a teamstercommonly has his pick of the load.

"My neck, too, can be tied to a tree, and my ankles, too can be untied, Master," said another of the girls, addressing me. She was a luscious blonde.

I slapped the wood of the wagon box with pleasure.

"Look!" said the young man, suddenly, pointing to our right. "Smoke!"

Almost at the same moment he rose to his feet and cracked his long whip over thebacks of the tharlarion. Grunting, they increased their lumbering pace.

Twice more he cracked his whip. The girls, in the back were suddenly quiet. Igripped the edge of the wagon box. To our right, in a long, sloping valley, sometwo or three pasangs from the road, there were three narrow, slowly ascendingcolumns of smoke.

"Faster! Har-ta!" cried the young man to the tharlarion.

"Surely we must stop," I said. "Perhaps we can render assistance."

"It is too late," he said, "by the time you can see the smoke. Everyone here, bynow, would be dead, or taken."

One of the girls in the back cried out in fear. Naked, bound slaves, they wereabsolutely helpless.

"Nonetheless," I said, "I must make inquiries."

"You will do so then by yourself," said the young man.

"Agreed," I said. "Stop the wagon."

"Riders!" said the young man. Ahead, on the road, there was a rolling cloud ofdust. He jerked the tharlarion back. Grunting they scratched at the gravel ofthe road. They tossed their snouts in the nose straps. The young man lookedwildly about. He could not turn the wagon on the narrow road. The girlsscreamed, squirming in their bonds.

"They are soldiers," I said. I stood on the wagon box, shading my eyes.

"Thank the Priest-Kings!" cried the young man.

In moments a troop of soldiers, lancers and crossbowmen, mounted on kaiila,reined up about us. They wore the colors of Thentis. They were covered withdust. Their uniforms were black with sweat and dirt. The flanks of theirprancing kaiila were lathered with foam. They snorted and, throwing back theirheads, sucked air into their lungs. Their third lids, the transparent stormmembranes, were drawn, giving their wild, round eyes a yellowish cast.

"Dust Legs," said the officer with the men. "The road is closed. Whither are youbound?"

"Fort Haskins," said, the young man.

"You cannot remain here, and it would be dangerous to go back," said theofficer. "I think you are best advised to proceed to Fort Haskins as quickly aspossible."

"I shall do so," said the young man.

"It is unusual, is it not, for the Dust Legs to be on the rampage?" I asked. Ihad understood them to be one of the most peaceful of the tribes of the Barrens.

Indeed, they often acted as intermediaries between the men of the settlementsand the wilder tribes of the interior, such as the Yellow Knives, the Sleen andKaiila.

"Who are you?" asked the officer.

"A traveler," I said.

"We do not know what has stirred them up," said the officer. "They have taken nolife. They have only burned farms and taken kaiila."

"It is perhaps a warning, of some sort," I said.

"It would seem so," said the officer. "They did not, for example, attack atdawn. They came openly, did their work unhurriedly, and withdrew."

"It is very mysterious," I said.

"They are a peaceful folk," said the officer, "but I would be on my way, andwith dispatch. Sleen or Kaiila may be behind them."

One of the girls in the back whimpered in terror.

The officer, slowly, rode around the wagon, looking through the wooden bars atour bound cargo. The girls shrank back under his gaze, bound, inspected slaves.

"I would be on my way as soon as possible," said the officer. "I would notexpect even Dust Legs to resist this cargo."

"Yes, Captain!" said the young man. The officer took his mount to the side andthe soldiers, too, drew their kaiila to one side or the other. The young manthen stood up, shaking the reins with one hand and cracking the whip with theother. "Move, move, you beasts!" he cried. The tharlarion lumbered into motionand the slack was taken up in the traces, and the wagon, creaking, lurchedahead. The girls were as quiet as tiny, silken field urts in the presence offorest panthers, being conducted in their cage between the ranks of thesoldiers. In a few Ehn we were more than a pasang down the road. It was lonely,and dark. There was whimpering, and sobbing, behind us.

"The slaves are terrified," I said.

"We shall not camp," said the young man. "We shall press on through the night. Ishall, stop only, from time to time, to rest the tharlarion."

"That is wise," I said.

"It is not like the Dust Legs," he said.

"That, too, would be my understanding of the matter," I said.