“Forget about Mina,” he said.
“Master!” I begged
He did not look back.
“I would suppose so,” he said.
“Better than Mina?” I said.
“Do not be absurd,” he said.
“Might Master bid on me?” I asked.
“Many men might,” he said, “who did not know your true nature.”
“My true nature?” I said.
“Your pettiness, and such,” he said.
“My belly wants you,” I said.
“Do slave fires burn there?” he asked.
“Not yet,” I said. “I do not think so.”
“It is easy enough to ignite them,” he said.
“Ignite them!” I said.
“No,” he said.
“You did such things to me in Ar, by Six Bridges,” I said, “with your kiss, your touch.”
“It is pleasant to do such things to a slave,” he said, “to render her helplessly responsive, whether she wishes it or not.”
“I wish it, Master,” I said.
“Even a petty slave,” he said, “of little worth, may bring a good price if she kicks, and squirms, and gasps and moans, and writhes well.”
“Allison begs Master for his touch!” I said.
“You are in my care,” he said.
“No one would know!” I said.
“I would know,” he said, “and the slave would know.”
“Oh, yes,” I said, angrily, “honor! Honor!”
He did not respond, but I saw a fist clench.
“But Master is tempted, is he not?” I said.
“Yes,” he said, “Master is tempted.”
I smiled to myself, and was well satisfied with this answer.
We continued on, and then he said, “Do you think you would be any good in the furs?”
“I would do my best to be pleasing to my Master,” I said.
“So, too,” said he, “would any slave.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
After a time, I called out, “I think Master would bid on me!”
“Perhaps,” he said.
“Hold!” he said, stopping. “Ahead!”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
Ahead, on the trail, was our party, Astrinax; the Lady Bina; Lykos; Trachinos, his leash on Mina, the former Lady Persinna of Ar; Akesinos, the confederate of Trachinos; and two slaves, bearing packs, Jane and Eve.
With them, before them, and about them, were several other figures. Several of these figures were human. I recognized Kleomenes amongst them. Several were not human. They were large and shaggy. Some carried long- handled, double-bladed axes. These were Kurii.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“All hail Lady Bina, future Ubara of all Gor!” said Kleomenes, lifting his goblet. The humans about the long table rose, lifting their goblets, facing the Lady Bina, who sat in a curule chair at the head of the table, as though enthroned. She bowed her head, graciously, acknowledging the toast.
Men through back their heads and downed the contents of the goblets.
About the table, mixed in with the others, were Astrinax, Desmond, Lykos, Trachinos, and Akesinos. They were not so placed that they could speak to one another.
Far down the table I saw Pausanias, whose caravan we had followed to the vicinity of the Crag of Kleinias.
His men were doubtless about, though I did not see them.
Doubtless there were some humans of the “Cave,” too, so to speak, lesser allies of the Kurii, who were also absent.
I did see the men who had accompanied Kleomenes.
All the slaves present, including myself, Jane, and Eve, were camisked. That was how the men of the Cave of Agamemnon, Theocrat of the World, Eleventh Face of the Nameless One, would have us. I knew nothing of this Agamemnon, though I gathered he must be Kur, nor what might be involved in the associated titles. In the banquet hall there were three prominent, visible Kurii, he referred to as “Lucius,” who seemed to be first in the Cave, and two who crouched in the background, like beasts of prey, surveying the festivities. These, in human sounds, were said to be Timarchos and Lysymachos. On a shelf above and behind them there was a metallic box, which, I supposed, given the care with which it had been handled, and the watchfulness with which it was regarded, must contain some precious substance, a treasure of some sort, perhaps gold or jewels. If so, I did not understand why it should be placed as it was, on a shelf in the open. Would it not have been wiser to have locked it away somewhere? The box seemed a strange one for a strong box, as it bore no bands of iron, nor a heavy lock, or locks. Rather it had certain projections fixed in its surface, and what appeared to be screens or lenses. The three Kurii, Lucius, Timarchos, and Lysymachos, all had translators slung about their large necks, on golden chains, by means of which, doubtless, they followed the progress of the feast, and by means of which they might, if they desired, communicate with the humans present. I would learn that the status amongst the Kurii was indicated, to themselves, at least, by differences in harnessing, and by rings worn on the left wrist. These rings were earned, or won, I gathered, in some sort of contest. To humans, those who wore the golden chains were of highest rank, those who wore silver were of the next rank, and those whose translator chains were of common metal, usually closely meshed links of iron, were third. Below these were most of the Kurii of the Cave, who carried no translators. These, I discovered, were generally avoided by the humans. I did not know how many Kurii inhabited the Cave, but I would have supposed some forty or fifty. Many Kurii I could not tell apart, for days. Even then I sometimes made mistakes, or became confused. Interestingly, though I suppose it was only to be expected, many Kurii had a similar difficulty distinguishing humans, particularly slaves, for we were similarly garbed. They could, however, easily distinguish men from women, given the radical sexual differences of form in our species. I later learned there were no female Kurii in the Cave. Apparently there are three or four sexes amongst the Kurii, depending on how one understands such things. I know little about this so I will simply recount what I gathered from conversations amongst the Kurii’s human allies in the Cave. There are the males, and the conceiving females, and the nurturing “females,” or “wombs,” which are irrational and sessile. As a fourth sex, or a latent first sex, there are the Nondominants, which, I gather, are males of a sort. These are generally despised, supposedly, by the conceiving females, while the nurturing “females,” eyeless, and mindless, would not know they exist. Occasionally, under certain circumstances, physiological or social, perhaps the lack of a Dominant, the Nondominant may occasionally become a Dominant, in effect, a true male. Thus, there is an ambiguity amongst Kurii with respect to something which one would suppose would be easy to determine, namely, the number of sexes in the species.
I have mentioned the three prominent, visible Kurii in the hall, Lucius, Timarchos, and Lysymachos. There was another in the hall who was visible, but, clearly, not prominently placed. I knew him from before. He was the blind Kur. We were given no human name for him. He crouched in a darkened corner of the hall, and some meat had been thrown to the floor before him, for which he must reach about, scratching here and there, and find.
I saw no sign of Lord Grendel.
There were several slaves in the room. Others were elsewhere. All had been brought to the Voltai to serve
