“I find it difficult, too,” he said, “to suppose that you are an agent of Priest-Kings.”
“I do not think of myself as such,” I said.
“But you are here,” he said.
“At the will of Priest-Kings, yes,” I said, “but I do not know why.”
“I am here to inform you,” he said.
“How do I know you are an agent of Priest-Kings?” I asked.
“Perhaps I am an unlikely agent,” he said. “Who am I to know? One might say the same of you, if you are indeed an agent. Who is to tell Priest-Kings who will be their instruments? Are you privy to their councils, can you read the mists, the fogs and clouds, which hover about the Sardar?”
I supposed it was possible that this man might be an agent of Priest-Kings. Doubtless they selected their human agents with an eye to probity and utility, not nobility, not honor. Too, the moralities of Priest-Kings might not be those of men, or of Kurii. Too, I knew there was a new dynasty in the Nest. The remnants of the older order might, by now, dispossessed and superseded, neglected and scorned, have long ago sought the pleasures of the Golden Beetle.
“You have some token, some sign, some credential, or such, which might testify to your legitimacy here, something which might certify your authenticity?”
“Certainly,” he said, reaching within his tunic.
I tensed.
He smiled.
He withdrew a loop of leather from within the tunic, on which loop was fastened a golden ring. This ring was something like two inches in diameter, and the way it hung suggested its weightiness.
The golden circle, incidentally, is taken as the sign of Priest-Kings. Such circles are often carried by high Initiates, on golden chains about their necks. Too, they are likely to appear on the walls, and over the gates, and such, of temples, and, within temples, they invariably surmount altars. Staffs surmounted with this symbol are often carried by Initiates, as well, and such staffs invariably figure in their ceremonial processions. The gold is the symbol of that which is rare, is precious, is constant, and does not tarnish. The circular form is a symbol of eternity, that which has no beginning, that which has no end. The blessings of Initiates are accompanied by the sign of Priest- Kings, a circular motion of the right hand. These blessings, on feast days, may be bestowed on the faithful without cost. Sometimes, of course, such blessings must be purchased. The favor of Priest-Kings is not easily obtained, and Initiates, as other castes, must live.
“Anyone,” I said, “might fix a ring of gold on a leather string.”
“That is how you know its authenticity,” said Sullius Maximus. “For those endeavoring in fraud, to abet a ruse, would surely fix the ring on a chain of gold.”
“May I see the ring?” I said.
I was not interested in the ring, of course, but the leather string, for leather can absorb certain substances, such as oil, or the exudates of a communicative organ.
Sullius Maximus cast me the ring, on its leather loop. He did not care to approach me too closely. I did not blame him. Might not a knife swiftly, like a striking viper, dart from its sheath, find its home in a startled heart, and might not the very body of that heart serve an assassin as shield, sheltering the assailant from the vengeance of the crossbows’ metal-finned, soon-flighted penetrant iron?
I pretended to examine the gold. I lowered my head respectfully to the symbol, as one might salute the Sardar, but I kept my eyes raised, to keep in view its purveyor. The string, in which I was primarily interested, was bunched in my hand, close to the ring, and I took its scent. Without a translator I had no hope of deciphering the scent, but I recognized the voice, so to speak, of Priest-Kings, who communicate by scent. I had no doubt that that leather had been impressed with the message of Priest-Kings.
But I had no way of reading it.
I did not inquire of Sullius Maximus the location or fate of an appropriate translator, for I was confident he knew nothing of such a device.
It was lighter now, and I examined the string, visibly. On it, in two places, there were reddish brown stains.
“The string is soiled,” I said.
“Is it?” he asked.
“Blood,” I said.
“Interesting,” he said. “It was given to me as it is.”
“I do not doubt that it came into your possession rather as it is,” I said.
He bowed his head, in assent.
I now knew I would not be met here by an agent of Priest-Kings.
The agent of Priest-Kings had been intercepted.
How then would I know the will of the denizens of the Sardar, even to judge whether or not I should honor it, or endeavor to comply with it?
“You have been to the Sardar?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, looking at me, narrowly.
“Recently?”
“Of course, to be given the ring, and the message.”
“What are the Priest-Kings like?” I asked.
“Surely you know,” he said.
“Tell me,” I said.
“They are like us,” he said.
“I am pleased to hear it,” I said.
“Only larger, stronger, more powerful,” he said.
“Of course,” I said.
“As befits gods,” he said.
“Of course,” I said.
“I recognize, and respect, and honor, your caution,” he said. “But now, if you are satisfied, I will execute my charge. I will deliver the message of Priest-Kings, and withdraw.”
“You received this message,” I said, “from the great Priest-King, Lord Sarm?”
“- Yes,” he said.
Sarm, of course, years ago, had succumbed to the pleasures of the Golden Beetle. I was reassured, then, that the Kurii still knew little of the denizens of the Sardar.
It is difficult to do contest with an enemy which is both mysterious and powerful.
I had little love for Priest-Kings, but theirs was the law and the rod which held in check the inventive and indiscreet aggressions of humans on this, their world. Had it not been for the governance of Priest-Kings, and their surveillance, and the enforcement of their prohibitions on technology and weaponry, I had little doubt that the suspicions, fears, and simian ingenuity of my species on Gor would have by now produced lethalities equivalent to, if not superior to, the madnesses which currently threatened the destruction of another world, the ruination of another habitat, the extinction of an indigenous species, my own, on that other world. The paw which first grasped a jagged stone can eventually become the hand which can, with the pressing of a switch, eliminate continents. How easy it is to poison atmospheres, and how easy, soon, to set axes awry, and roll a world into a star’s flaming maw. I supposed that the human species was one of the few species with the capacity to render itself extinct. I doubted that the Priest-Kings were overly concerned with the welfare of humans, but it seemed clear that they had no intention of sharing the psychotic pastimes of such a species, or of enduring the consequences of its stupidities, hence their weapon and technology laws. But the shield of Priest-Kings was concerned not only to protect their own world from the potential dangers of an eventually advanced and technologically armed humanity, mostly, originally, brought over millennia to Gor in Voyages of Acquisition for its biological interest, as were many other forms of animal life not native to the world, but, as well, from the incursions of a particularly acquisitive and predatory life form, the Kurii. Too, interestingly, the sheltering wing of the Priest-Kings, her declared protectorate, extended beyond Gor to another world as well, to her sister world, Earth. It, and its resources, were to be protected from Kurii. Let Kurii be denied Earth, with its wealth of water and hydrogen, be denied such a foothold and platform for their projects, so splendid a staging area for an approach to Gor. Let them remain, rather, in their distant, isolated,
