Swordsmen of Gor

“Is it not I who am to spy on you?” asked Tajima.

“Surely,” I said, “you do not object to a reciprocity in such matters.”

“That would be churlish of me,” he admitted. “How may I be of service to you, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman?” he asked.

“In the forest,” I said, “though doubtless within the wands, there is further training, a teacher, a master, for some particular few, amongst whom I would suppose yourself.”

“You are perceptive,” he said.

“To be sure,” I said, “perhaps you are merely sneaking off for a secret rendezvous with the lovely Sumomo.”

“You have noted my interest in her,” observed Tajima.

“Your expression betrays little,” I said, “but the pupils of your eyes much.”

“It is hard to control such things,” said Tajima. “The movements of contract women are closely supervised. Collar-girls have much more freedom, as would domestic sleen or scavenging tarsks. Besides, she scorns me.”

“Perhaps she has a pretty body,” I said, “which would look well in a collar.”

“She is a contract woman,” said Tajima.

“Surely, wherever you come from, which I suspect is faraway, you have collar-girls.”

“Yes,” he said.

“And I suppose they are not all light-skinned or dark-skinned.”

“No,” said Tajima, “but they are not of the Pani.”

“How is that?” I asked.

“Because as soon as they are collared, they are no longer of the Pani, but only slave beasts.”

“I see,” I said.

“There are many such slave beasts,” he said. “War is frequent amongst the Pani.”

“And would not Sumomo,” I asked, “look pretty as such a slave beast?”

“Perhaps,” he said. “I cannot afford her contract.”

“What if you could?” I asked.

“An interesting thought,” he said.

“And she would then be yours to do with as you wished, would she not?” I asked.

“There are expectations, customs, and such,” he said, “but, yes, she would then be mine to do with as I wished.”

“Absolutely?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Absolutely.”

“And do you not think she might look pretty as a slave beast?”

“Yes,” said Tajima, “I would think so.”

“With whom do you train in the forest?” I asked.

“Nodachi,” he said.

“He is not a two-name person?” I asked.

“That is not his name,” said Tajima. “His name is secret. He conceals it. He is called ‘Nodachi’. That is merely a name for a battle sword, one to be used in the field.”

“I understand little of this,” I said.

“He is ronen,” said Tajima. “A fellow of the waves, as it is said, one with no home, one carried by the current, one with no master, no captain. There are many such.”

“A mercenary?” I suggested.

“Ah, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima, “how little you know of these things.”

“Doubtless,” I said.

“Loyalty,” said Tajima, “is required of the warrior. His lord must be dead, or imprisoned. Or it may be he was betrayed by his lord, or that his lord proved unworthy of his devotion. It is lonely to be of the ronen. One remembers. One does not forget. Over the ice a cloud drifts. The bird clings to the cold branch. It cries its pain in the night.”

I said nothing more, but, after a time, we arrived.

“Your weapons, your skills, your talents, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima, “are not ours.”

“I would like to meet with he with whom you train,” I said, “but not to learn his weapons.”

“There are more than weapons,” said Tajima. “There is the thought, the way.”

“I would seek his help,” I said, “not for me but for my friend, Pertinax. He is not allowed in the dojo.”

“He is a weakling,” said Tajima.

“He has grown strong,” I said.

“Not all strength,” said Tajima, “is of the body.”

“Some is,” I said, “and, I assure you, as you are slight, and he is large and strong, he could break you in two.”

“Only if I permitted it,” said Tajima. “The tusks of the forest tarsk, too, could tear me in two, and I could be rent by the horns of the forest bosk, but, like the wind, I do not intend to put myself beneath their tusks or horns.”

“But such beasts are dangerous,” I said.

“Not to the wind,” he said.

“Beware,” I said, “that the wind is not caught in a box, and the lid snapped shut.”

“The wind,” smiled Tajima, “does not enter boxes with lids.”

“Pertinax is different now from what you remember,” I said.

“I could kill him, easily,” said Tajima.

“Now,” I said.

“Yes,” said Tajima, “now.”

“I would that you brought Pertinax to the school of Nodachi, and inquire if he might accept him,” I said.

“So that his skills might one day equal or exceed mine?” asked Tajima.

“Certainly,” I said.

“I do not think that would happen,” said Tajima.

“Quite possibly not,” I said.

“You ask much, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said he.

“There must be balance, harmony,” I said, “and so I offer something in return.”

“Sumomo?” he asked.

“Not at all,” I said. “She is a mere female, and belongs in a collar. I offer you something of far greater value.”

“What?” he asked.

“The tarn,” I said. “You will be taught the tarn.”

“I am afraid of tarns,” he said.

“So are we all,” I said.

“Fear is not acceptable,” said Tajima.

“Fear is acceptable,” I said. “Cowardice is not.”

“I will speak to Nodachi,” he said.

Chapter Fifteen

i have purchased a slave for pertinax; i learn something of the lessons of pertinax

“He is a barbarian, Master!” cried the slave, distressed.

“So, too, am I,” I told her. “Get on your knees, put your head to his feet!”

She went to her knees before Pertinax, her head to the floor of the hut. Her small hands were high behind her, as she knelt, her small wrists closely encircled in slave bracelets. The leash, on which I had led her naked from