"It would not be the first time she has betrayed Kurii and others to Agamemnon,” said Lord Grendel.
"We will have her blood,” said Statius.
"Even now,” said Lord Grendel, “in robes and veils of beauty, she doubtless banquets with Agamemnon."
"We do not know that,” said Cabot.
"I do not think we will see her again,” said Lord Grendel.
"If we do,” said Statius, “it will be the privilege of Lord Grendel to gouge out and roast the first ounce of her flesh, to be eaten before her eyes."
With proper surgical attention this mode of execution can be extended over several days, before the more grievous tortures are inflicted, with the needles, and irons, the tiny flames, the dollops of acid, and such.
"I will defend her, to the death,” said Lord Grendel.
"She is guilty,” said Statius.
"Yes,” said Lord Grendel.
"Then, dear friend,” said Statius, “you will die with her."
"It is not clear she is guilty,” said Cabot.
"Why do you say that?” asked Statius.
"I do not know,” said Cabot. “It is something which continues to elude me, a small something, a something I cannot place, a something that has troubled me, like a whisper not really heard, now and again."
"Perhaps,” said Statius, “when, at the side of Agamemnon, in regalia, a tiara upon her brow, she presides over a thousand executions, those of our fellows, Kur and human, you might be convinced."
"Doubtless,” said Cabot.
"Do you love her?” asked Statius.
"No,” said Cabot. “But in my way I am fond of her. Another may love her."
"Who?” asked Statius.
"Another,” said Cabot.
"Lord Grendel?” said Statius.
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"The evidence, the incidents, the circumstances, a thousand details, are incontrovertible,” said Statius.
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"We will take you to the surface,” said Lord Grendel. “My dear Statius, will you gather the weapons."
"Yes,” said Statius.
Chapter, the Forty-Eighth:
THE AMNESTY
"You hear it?” said Lord Grendel.
"Of course,” said Cabot.
Interestingly, the message was in both Kur and Gorean.
The world rang with the words of Agamemnon, pronouncing peace and amnesty.
"There is little food left,” said Cabot.
"Do not feed me, Master,” said Lita.
"Take this,” said Cabot, pressing a rind of sul into her hands, and she put down her head and fed on it, kneeling, gratefully, her hair falling about her wrists.
How beautiful they are, thought Cabot. How desirable they are. How natural that men will take them, and make them their own, and put them in collars.
Lord Grendel's group was now small, consisting of some dozen Kurii, and some seven humans.
They were deep in the forested areas between the habitats and the far villages, those toward the far pole, and Lake Fear.
"We cannot run forever,” said a Kur.
The rebellion, or insurrection, was now devastated, the revolutionary groups decimated, and scattered, in flight, pursued.
Hundreds, both Kur and human, had responded to the conciliations offered by Agamemnon.
"We had eight power weapons,” said a Kur.
These were the weapons which had been acquired by Lords Grendel and Statius, and the human, Tarl Cabot, in the vicinity of the far pole, that beyond the small villages.
"Agamemnon has hundreds,” said a Kur.
"Go, pledge fidelity to him,” said another.
"Should we not have kept them all?” asked a human, Archon, now skilled with the bow.
"I think not,” said Lord Grendel.
The reasoning had been rather as follows. The eight weapons would doubtless have made one of the insurrectionary groups more formidable than otherwise, say, that of Lord Grendel, but presumably the eight such weapons would have been of little avail against the full, massed power which might be brought against them by a reasonably large contingent of enemy forces, and, of course, given such an arrangement, concentrating the weapons in a single group, the other rebels’ groups, now distributed, now muchly out of touch with one another, would have remained as before, limited to their original primitive, simple weaponry, sticks, spears, axes, knives, and such, and more dangerously, of course, and more happily for them, the arrow. Indeed, the arrow, loosed from the great bow, remained a not unformidable tool, even against foes equipped with a more sophisticated weaponry. It had then been decided, shortly after the defeats of the preceding days, on a variety of fronts, that eight of the several groups, of which Lord Grendel's was one, would have one weapon apiece, this at least, hopefully, acting as some deterrent for several of the groups, or bands, against a too rash approach by the forces of Agamemnon. Some thought had been given to the concentration of the eight weapons for a raid on the palace itself, but it was soon understood that the palace was not only closely guarded, but was, for most practical purposes, impregnable. Accordingly the weapons had been allotted amongst eight groups, of which Lord Grendel's was one. In his group, the power weapon, a shoulder rifle, in this case, to use a convenient term, one with several charges remaining, had been given into the keeping of the scout, Flavion. This seemed judicious considering his frequent departures from the camp, and the likely dangers of his encountering Purple Scarves.
Cabot was fond of his bow, and Lord Grendel, despite his skill with the small weapon, tended to prefer the weight of a Kur ax.
"How many have accepted the amnesty?” asked a Kur.
"Hundreds, I have heard,” said another. “They stream to the habitats, to surrender their weapons."
"Who would not do so?” asked another.
"Some, it seems,” said another.
Their eyes turned to the figure of their leader, large, as silent as rock, crouching back on his haunches, in Kur repose.
"Lord Grendel?” asked the first.
"Leave, if you will,” said Lord Grendel. “Your departure will not be challenged."
"You will not hunt, and kill us?"
"No,” said Grendel.
"Come with us,” urged another.
"No,” said Grendel.
"The amnesty is for all, Kur and human,” said one of the Kurii.
"Things will be as before,” said another.
"Agamemnon is tired of war,” said another. “The war is done. He grants mercy, and forgiveness to all."
"To all,” said another, “even to those who most fiercely opposed him."
"It is his desire to return peace to the world,” said another.
"I do not doubt it,” said Lord Grendel.
"Come with us, Lord Grendel,” said another.
"No,” said Lord Grendel.
Chapter, the Forty-Ninth:
TRACKS
"Hold,” said Lord Grendel, nostrils flaring.
He and Cabot were some pasangs from their concealed camp.
"There,” said Grendel, “where the brush is awry. Set an arrow to your bow."
Cabot lowered the slain tarsk from his shoulders, and readied the great bow.
Half bent, head moving from side to side, ears erected, Grendel warily approached an opening in the brush.
"What is it?” whispered Cabot.
"Kur, Purple Scarf,” said Grendel. “Part of a Kur, part of a Purple Scarf."
Cabot looked about, and joined his friend.
"It was killed in the open, and then dragged here, see the track, to be hidden from view."
"It is half buried,” said Cabot.
"Sleen,” said Grendel.
"Yes,” said Cabot. The forest panther sometimes drags its prey into a tree, presumably to keep it safe from smaller predators, or from scavengers. The larl will often sleep in the vicinity of prey half eaten, thusly guarding it. Who would challenge a larl? Smaller beasts wait patiently, until it abandons its prey, and stalks away in its disinterested, lordly fashion. The sleen will commonly drag prey to a concealed location, where it may feed undisturbed, in solitude. Sometimes it buries part of the meat. The sleen is commonly nocturnal, usually emerging from its lair, or burrow, at night. It is in its way a single-minded beast and will follow a trail on which it has begun even through the midst of similar or different, even more desirable, prey animals. It is Gor's finest tracker. A common application of the sleen on Gor is the hunting of fugitive slaves.