I cursed myself for a fool.
Had I now become so much the Gorean warrior that I could disregard the feelings of a fellow creature, in particular those of a girl, who must be protected and cared for?Could it be that I ihad, as the Codes of my Caste recommended, not even considered her, but merely regarded her as a rightless animal, no more than a subject beast, an abject instrument to my interests and pleasures, a slave?
'I am sorry,' I said.
'Was it not your intention to discipline me?' she asked.
'No,' I said.
'Then my master is a fool,' she said, reaching for the meat that I had left on my plate.
I caught her wrist.
'It is now my intention to discipline you,' I said.
Her eyes briefly clouded with tears.'Very well,' she said, withdrawing her hand.
Vika would go hungry that night.
Although it was late, according to the chamber chronometer, fixed in the lid of one of the chests, I prepared to leave the room.Unfortunately there was no natural light in the room and so one could not judge the time by the sun or the stars and moons of Gor.I missed them.Since I had awakened, the energy bulbs had continued to burn at a constant and undiminished rate.
I had washed as well as I could squatting in the stream of water which emerged from the wall.
In one of the chests against the wall I had found, among the garments of various other castes, a warrior's tunic.I donned this, as my own had been torn by the larl's claws.
Vika had unrolled a straw mat which she placed on the floor at the foot of the great stone couch in the chamber.On this, wrapped in a light blanket, her chin on her knees, she sat watching me.
A heavy slave ring was set in the bottom of the couch to which I might have, had I pleased, chained her.
I buckled on my sword. 'You are not going to leave the chamber, are you?' asked Vika, the first words she had said to me since the meal.
'Yes,' I said.
'But you may not,' she said.
'Why?' I asked, alert.
'It is forbidden,' she said.
'I see,' I said.
I started for the door.
'When the Priest-Kings wish you, they will come for you,' she said.'Until then you must wait.'
'I do not care to wait,' I said.
'But you must,' she insisted, standing.
I went to her and placed my hands on her shoulders.'Do not fear the Priest-Kings so,' I said.
She saw that my resolve was not altered.
'If you go,' she said, 'return at least before the second gong.'
'Why?' I asked.
'For yourself,' she said, looking down.
'I am not afraid,' I said.
'Then for me,' she said, not raising her eyes.
'But why?' I asked.
She seemed confused.'I am afraid to be alone,' she said.
'But you have been alone many nights,' I pointed out.
She looked up at me and I could not read the expression in her troubled eyes.'One does not cease to be afraid,' she said.
'I must go,' I said.
Suddenly in the distance I heard the rumble of the gong which I had heard before in the Hall of Priest-Kings.
Vika smiled up at me.'You see,' she said in relief, 'it is too late.Now you must remain.'
'Why?' I asked.
She looked away, avoiding my eyes.'Because the energy bulbs will soon be dimmed,' she said, 'and it will be the hours allotted for sleep.'
She seemed unwilling to speak further.
'Why must I remain?' I asked.
I held her shoulders more firmly and shook her to force her to speak.'Why?' I insisted.
Fear crep into her eyes.
'Why?' I demanded.
Then came the second rumbling stroke of the distant gong, and Vika seemed to tremble in my arms.
Her eyes were wide with fear.
I shook her again, savagely.'Why?' I cried.
She could hardly speak.Her voice was scarcely a whisper. 'Because after the gong -' she said.
'Yes?' I demanded.
'- they walk,' she said.
'Who!' I demanded.
'The Priest-Kings!' she cried and turned from me.
'I am not afraid of Parp,' I said.
She turned and looked at me.'He is not a Priest-King,' she said quietly.
And then came the third and final stroke of that distant gong and at the same instant the energy bulbs in the room dimmed and I understood that now somewhere in the long corridors of that vast edifice there walked the Priest-Kings of Gor.
Chapter Seven: I HUNT FOR PRIEST-KINGS
In spite of Vika's protests it was with a light heart that I strode into the passageway beyond her chamber.I would seek the Priest-Kings of Gor.
She followed me almost to the portal, and I can remember how the sensors set in that great threshold in the dimmed light of the energy bulbs began to glow and pulse as she neared them.
I could see her white garment and sense the pale beauty of her skin as she stood back from the portal in the semi-darkened chamber.
'Please do not go,' she called to me.
'I must,' I said.
'Come back,' she cried.
I did not answer her but began to prowl down the hallway.
'I'm afraid,' I heard her call.
I assumed she would be safe, as she had been on countless nights and so I went on.
I thought I heard her weep, and supposed that she did so for herself, because she was frightened.
I continued down the passageway.
My business was not to console her, not to tell her not to be afraid, not to give her the comfort of another human presence.My business was with the dread denizens of these dim passageways which had so inspired her terror; my business was not that of the comforter or friend, but that of the warrior.
As I went down the passageway I looked into the various chambers, identical with my own, which lined it.Each, like mine, lacked a gate or door, and had for its entrance only that massive portal, perhaps some twelve feet wide and eighteen feet high.I would not have enjoyed sleeping in such a room, for there was no way to protect oneself from the hall, and of course eventually one would need sleep.
Almost all of the chambers I passed, and I passed many, seemd to be empty.
Two, however, housed Chamber Slaves, girls like Vika, clad and collared identically.I suppose the only difference in the attire of the three girls would have been the numerals engraved on their collars.Vika of course had worn a scarf and these girls did not, but now Vika no longer wore her scarf; now her collar, steel and gleaming, locked, encircling her fair throat, was as evident and beautiful as theirs, proclaiming her to the eyes of all, like them, only a slave girl.
The first girl was a short, sturdy wench with thick ankles and wide, exciting shoulders, probably of peasant stock.Her hair had been braided and looped over her right shoulder; it was hard in the light to determine its colour.She had risen from her mat at the foot of the couch unbelievingly, blinking and rubbing her heavy-lidded, ovoid eyes.As far as I could tell she was alone in the chamber.When she approached the portal its sensors began to glow and pulse as had Vika's.
'Who are you?' asked the girl, her accent suggesting the Sa-Tarna fields above Ar and toward the Tamber Gulf.
'Have you seen Priest-Kings?' I asked.
'Not this night,' she said.
