Swordsmen of Gor

arranged their laws in such matters based on indulgently codifying what they took to be current human practices in such matters. Few Gorean warriors, incidentally, go into battle nude, but male nudity is not as uncommon on Gor as it is on Earth. For example, it is not unknown for Gorean laborers, if engaged in heavy work on hot days, and so on, to work nude. Most people do not think much about this, one way or another. The human body, on Gor, is not regarded as shameful. Even Gorean women of high caste, who are commonly robed and veiled in public, do not regard bodies as shameful. That would be absurd for a Gorean. They do, however, usually, regard their bodies as special and provocative, and exquisitely private, and certainly not for public viewing. The Gorean free woman then does not think of her body as something to be hidden for reasons of shame but as something to be hidden for reasons of propriety. As is well known the usual Gorean free woman is more concerned with the concealment of her facial features than her body. Her face is much more revealing of herself than her body. It might be noted, in passing, that the face of the female slave must be bared publicly. This is a difference between her and the free woman. Anyone may look upon the face of a female slave with impunity, as much as upon a verr or kaiila. She is, of course, enslaved, an animal. Also, she is usually garbed briefly and provocatively. This is, I suppose, not only to distinguish her, and dramatically, from the free woman, with whom she must not be confused, but because she is usually owned by men, and men enjoy seeing the beauty of women. Also, it is difficult to conceal weapons in a slave tunic. Indeed, the slave herself is scarcely concealed.

The second major theory proposed to explain the ban of Priest-Kings on body armor is that the Priest-Kings, in their benign concern for human beings, one of the diverse life forms with which they stocked the planet, thought the banning of body armor would reduce injury and conflict, that it would lead humans to abandon war as too dangerous and perilous of pursuit by a rational organism. If this is the case, it seemed they may have overestimated the rationality of the human species, or underestimated the lengths to which it might go to acquire land, wealth, women, and other valuables. A variant on this theory, though one less benign, or misguided, is that the regulation from the Sardar was intended to help keep the numbers of human beings on the planet in check, that it functioned, in a sense, as a populational control device. They might have been less inclined to use other devices, say, disease, because of the danger of a mutation which might affect the denizens of the Sardar, sooner or later, as well. To be sure, other theories might be proposed, too, for example that warfare conducted under such conditions might tend to improve the species, selecting for, say, intelligence, quickness, agility, and so on. It might be noted that on the planet Earth war would seem to be counterproductive along these lines, as, on the whole, the healthy and robust do the fighting and the sickly, weak, and frail remain behind to replicate their genes.

Whatever the truth may be in these matters the Priest-Kings, as is their wont, did not explain the rationale for their rulings. They do enforce them, however, mercilessly, with the Flame Death. Perhaps the rulings on body armor were not even particularly rationally motivated, at all; perhaps they were the result of a random notion or an idiosyncratic whim on the part of one or more Priest-Kings. Whatever the case may be the rulings, as in the case of certain forbidden developments or innovations in weaponry and communication, and such, are in place.

You may recall that I had heard a scream issuing from one of the huts. I now saw one of the Pani emerging from the hut, carrying a head.

These heads were clearly trophies of a sort. For example, a warrior might win favor from his daimyo or shogun by garnering heads, this understood as a proof of prowess in war. In such a way one might earn promotion, land, gifts, preferments, and such. I would also later learn that these heads, particularly if one of a celebrated foe, might be treasured, and kept indefinitely, the hair being carefully combed and dressed, the head being perfumed, the teeth painted black, and so on. The blackness of teeth was apparently regarded as cosmetically appealing. Indeed, certain beauties of the Pani, I would learn, blackened their teeth to enhance their charms. To be sure, neither of the contract women of Lord Nishida, one of whom was Sumomo, who was apparently of interest to Tajima, and the other of whom was Hana, as I later discovered, I was pleased to note, had adopted this practice.

He in the helmet mask turned toward me, and I saw that the mask, in design and color, was garish. Too, it was horned. The entire effect was that of a hideous face, as of some frightful creature, or monster of sorts, surely not even a human face.

“That is Nodachi,” I speculated. Pertinax was at my side, and would presumably be familiar with that individual. I myself had never seen this mysterious and, it seemed, almost legendary, figure.

“No,” said Pertinax.

Although the gaze of the figure was upon me, it gave no sign of recognition.

“Bow,” whispered Pertinax.

“Of course,” I thought to myself. There are understandings in such things. I am not even of the Pani. I understand very little of this. Pertinax may be more informed than I, having profited from the tutelage of Nodachi. It did seem to me that the fellow in the helmet mask, as it was the only contrivance of its sort in view, might be important. I am not of the Pani, I reminded myself. I will be expected to bow first. There is a complex order in such matters.

And so I bowed, and lifted my sword, in a warrior’s salute.

This business on my part was accepted, it seemed, for the individual returned my bow, though less deeply, and then turned away.

I did note that his sword, the long sword, with its beautifully curved blade, and its tasseled hilt, suitable for a two-handed grasp, was bloodied.

I took him to be a high officer, of which there were several in camp. From the mask, the stature, the carriage, the nature of his garments, the tone of the skin, I took him to be Pani.

I looked about, wondering on the whereabouts of Lord Nishida.

Even as I did so, to my right, his pavilion collapsed, crashing downward in a sudden flurry of sparks and smoke, then settling into a mass of flaming planks, timbers, and panels.

I regretted the loss of the pavilion.

It had been a small, but a beautiful, and exotic, building, and might have been more suitably situated not in a rude camp, but, withdrawn, in a sheltered garden.

I trusted Lord Nishida had escaped the firing of his pavilion. I supposed he would not have been personally sought, as the archer who had attacked him may well have reported him slain. Lord Nishida had impressed me as being politically astute, and coldly subtle, but also as constituting an epitome of a civilized gentleman, at least relative to his own background, or lights. Certainly I recalled his interest, manifested in his interviewing of the former Miss Margaret Wentworth, in the delicacies of flower arrangements, tea ceremonials, and such. Such a sensitive and delicate gentleman, and particularly one so important, I hoped, at the first sign of trouble, would have been hurried to a location of safety, and a guard set about him to protect his person. One such as he was not to be risked. I did assume him safe. If he had come to harm I had little doubt that that would have been broadcast in the camp, and a new leader made known.

The Pani made no effort to save the pavilion. It was lost. It burned lower now. The smoke filled the air.

To one side I saw two women in their kimonos, with their small steps, being ushered forward by one of the Ashigaru. I supposed they had been concealed somewhere. I took them to be Sumomo and Hana. They were being brought into the open, I supposed, for their security. We controlled this area. Buildings might be especially dangerous. Fugitives might take shelter within them, turning them into small fortresses. One would not wish them to be seized as hostages, though I did not think the Pani would be excessively concerned with them, as they might be replaced, I supposed, with others. On the other hand, I was sure they would be taken as of greater value than, say, a common collar girl.

I caught sight of Tajima, now, again, in the clearing. He approached Sumomo. She turned away. Though she was a female, and he a male, and though she was a contract woman, and he free, she had not bowed to him.

I understood this to be an insult of some sort, and I noted that Tajima’s body, briefly, stiffened with rage. He then remained standing, where he was, where he had been rebuffed, looking after Sumomo, who was now with Hana, facing away from him, several feet from him, not far from the smoldering embers of Lord Nishida’s collapsed, blackened pavilion.

“I fear the contract woman,” I said, “did not treat Tajima well.”

“She has nothing to fear,” said Pertinax.

“She may have more to fear than she understands,” I said.

“I do not understand,” said Pertinax.

“It is nothing,” I said.