Swordsmen of Gor

the hut of the intention of the besiegers, that they might consider the wisdom of surrender, but they were extended no such cordiality.

“No,” said Tajima, now at my side, as I moved to approach the hut.

“They will be burned alive,” said Pertinax, with horror.

The roof took the fire almost instantly, raging like tinder.

“Let Lord Nishida be notified,” I urged, “that he may intervene.”

“That is Lord Nishida,” said Tajima, indicating the figure in the fearsome mask with the bloodied sword.

“It cannot be,” I said.

“It is,” said Tajima.

“But his sword is bloodied,” I protested.

“Lord Nishida is a great warrior,” said Tajima.

“He fights, he, sword to sword?” I asked.

“Certainly,” said Tajima. “It is our way. Who would follow another?”

“Take prisoners!” I said.

“We do not require prisoners,” said Tajima.

In common Gorean warfare it is not unknown for prisoners to be taken. They may be interrogated, worked, sold, and such. Too, occasionally, if important, and of station, they may be ransomed. The Pani, it seemed, might take prisoners but seldom did so. Sometimes prisoners were tortured, and crucified, presumably primarily as examples to terrify enemies, reduce the temptation to sedition, and such. A common form of Gorean execution is impalement. The Pani regarded this as barbarous, but looked lightly on crucifixion. Such things apparently vary culturally. Perhaps one reason the Pani are not prone to making prisoners is that it is thought that the prisoner might be expected, if honorable, to end his own life, to erase his shame at having fallen into the hands of the enemy, and thus, if this is so, he might as well be spared this indignity by being granted an earlier surcease. Also, if heads are prized, and important with respect to advancement, and such, this militates against taking prisoners. An interesting exception to this sort of thing is that a prisoner, or one on the verge of capture, may be accorded the right to accept a new daimyo or shogun. Once he does this he is then honor bound to serve the new leader, as he did the old, and, it seems, he may be depended on to do so. He is not a mercenary, but he is a loyal follower, whomsoever he follows. The prime reason for not taking prisoners, or not making it that much of a common practice, if this should be truly so, is probably that the male prisoner is dangerous. He is feared, and perhaps wisely. Thus it seems supposed that he might be well done away with. Similarly, as in several periods in the Middle Ages on Earth, prisoners were done away with, there being no satisfactory provisions for their incarceration, particularly in the field, no prisoner cages, or such.

Screams emanated from the burning hut.

“Take prisoners!” I cried.

“Subside, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima. “They would have killed us. We will kill them.”

The door was suddenly flung open, from the inside.

A fellow, clothes aflame, shielding his eyes, stumbled from the hut and was cut down, from each side.

Smoke billowed from the hut. The walls were afire.

Another fellow, coughing, burst into the open, and ran two or three paces, and was cut down. Another followed him, and was similarly dealt with.

I think the fellows in the hut were blinded with the smoke, and burned. Two more emerged, to be cut down.

I looked within the hut, and the roof fell in, turning the enclosure into a furnace. I saw two or more dark shapes like shadows, silhouetted in the flames. Two more rushed from the hut, and died. One or two remained inside, and fell in the midst of the flaming branches, unable, I supposed, to reach the door. There was screaming for a few Ihn, and then it was quiet, save for the crackling of the flames.

The figure in the hideous, horned, masklike helmet removed it, and faced me. “You have come to report?” he inquired.

“The sky is ours,” I informed Lord Nishida.

“Some will have escaped,” he speculated.

“Yes,” I said. “They fled. They separated. They were many. We were few. We could not kill them all.”

“Unfortunate,” said Lord Nishida. “Our plans must now be advanced.”

I did not understand this.

Others approached, and Lord Nishida politely received their reports, as well. The camp was clear, it seemed, save for one or two huts, which would be soon attended to.

Lord Nishida turned to me. “We are pleased, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” he said.

I bowed, acknowledging this compliment.

“Now,” smiled Lord Nishida, “it seems a feast, a victory feast, would be in order, when things are done, and matters cleared, of course, a feast in, say, a day or two, after the day’s work. Is it not the Gorean way?”

“Perhaps,” I said, “if a watch is kept, and sufficient men are armed and at hand, to prevent unpleasant surprises, and such.”

Most such feasts, of course, take place within a holding within the environing walls of a city, perhaps one over which the tarn wire still sways in the wind, not in the open, not in a camp.

“It is unfortunate,” he said, “that we have not captured suitable numbers of the enemy’s free women, that they might serve such a feast naked.”

“Yes,” I said.

“That is the Gorean way, is it not?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, “but I suspect that it is also a way not unknown to the Pani.”

He smiled.

“It seems, Lord,” I said, “we are short of such serving maids.”

It is common to have the women of the enemy serve such a feast naked. It is one of the pleasures of victory. The women may either be collared prior to their service or not. It is usually thought best to save their collaring for later. That they should serve such a feast while still free is thought to shame them excellently, and to teach them that even the glorious free women of the defeated are worthy only to be the naked servitors, and later slaves, of the victorious.

“I trust the slaves are well, and in hand,” I said.

“Yes,” said Lord Nishida. “Doubtless you are concerned with your pretty Cecily.”

“She is well curved,” I said.

“Even now,” said Lord Nishida, “she is within a ring, her small hands upon the rope.”

This was a reference to the “rope circle.” In the “rope circle,” a single rope is tied about a group of slaves, either kneeling or standing, at their belly. The hands of each slave must then grasp the rope and may not, until permitted, release the rope. This holds a group of slaves together, nicely.

“How fares the blond-haired, blue-eyed slave whom I believe is now named ‘Saru’?” asked Lord Nishida of me.

“The stable slut?” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“I have not seen her in weeks,” I said.

“Doubtless the honorable Pertinax, tarnsman, has more recent news,” said Lord Nishida.

I recalled that Lord Nishida had had plans for the former Miss Margaret Wentworth.

“No, Lord,” said Pertinax, “I have not seen her since the pavilion, when you remanded her to the tharlarion stable.”

“That seems strange to me,” said Lord Nishida.

Pertinax shrugged.

“My fellow, Pertinax, I fear,” I said to Lord Nishida, “fears to look upon her.”

“‘Fears’?” inquired Lord Nishida.

Pertinax reddened.

“Much of him,” I said, “remains of Earth. He fears, I think, that he would succumb to her charms, that she would manipulate and dominate him, that she would easily bend him to her will, that she would make of him much what she once made of him, her slave.”