The martial dances, in part, supposedly assisted in spacing, and the maintaining of spacing. In actual battle, in the great formations, there is an almost inevitable drift to the right, as soldiers attempt to obtain some protection under the shield of the man to their right. As a consequence, it is common for each formation, as the battle continues, to be overreached, and outflanked, on the left. The right wing of each formation is almost invariably victorious, and the left wing of each almost always finds itself in jeopardy. Commanders commonly lead the right wing. Aside from matters of morale, exhibition, training, spirit, and such, the martial dances, then, with their emphasis on order and symmetry, are intended to compensate for the rightward drift of the great formations. In actual battle, of course, with the press and crowding, the buffeting, the noise, the shouting, the screaming, the shedding of blood, the dying, the rightward drift is seldom arrested.
Tarn cavalries, as it is explained to me, have similar exercises, and maneuvers, to the beating of drums, these often coordinating the stroke of the great wings. Although I have never seen this, I am informed that these evolutions are remarkably beautiful, hundreds of birds, with their riders, ascending, descending, whirling about, separating, rejoining, and so on.
Each night there was a feast.
More than once raucous killer humans had to be separated, flung from one another.
Once a knife had sped past him, and lodged deeply in the wall behind him. Somewhere in the hall he knew was Flavion, but he did not know where. He thought the knife had probably been intended for another. Or perhaps it had been flung for no more than delight, or sport, to a mark on a wall.
He probably drank too much.
Once he was startled to be served by a female Kur, collared. A dominant stood behind her, whip in hand.
She wore no harnessing.
From Cabot's point of view, in the glossiness of her oiled and scented coat, she was as concealed as ever.
From the Kur point of view she was naked.
From her diffidence, serving even a human, Cabot was well aware she knew herself a naked slave.
Cabot preferred the human females, hurrying about, serving both humans and Kurii.
How beautiful human females are, he thought. It is no wonder that men make them slaves.
Lord Arcesilaus sat on a dais, at the head of a hundred tables, with Lord Zarendargar, Lord Grendel, and Statius; and Archon, of the forest humans, and Cestiphon, of the killer humans, sat with them.
He found himself being served by one of Cestiphon's slaves.
She was now collared.
It was lovely on her neck.
Collars much enhance the beauty of a female, aesthetically, certainly, but also in their meaning.
Cestiphon's chosen sign for his females, the petal of a flower, was on the collar. There would thus be no doubt as to whom she belonged.
When she turned away Cabot noted that she had been tastefully marked, high on the left hip.
Many are the enhancements with which a civilization may acknowledge and express the primitive realities of nature.
Some female slaves, who had been of the pleasure cylinder, danced, to music supplied by the men of Peisistratus.
The humans were well pleased.
Some of the slaves had been granted dancing silk. They were high-haltered and bare-bellied. The silk was low on their hips and swirled about their bangled ankles.
How it enhances the dance, thought Cabot, and how easy it is to remove it.
At a gesture from Peisistratus, his Corinna came and writhed before Cabot. Peisistratus, this evening, had chosen to deny her clothing. She was skilled, and danced well. Cabot was pleased and threw her a piece of hot, greasy meat, which she clutched to herself, gratefully, and swirled away.
He gestured to a slave to kneel beside him and put down her head, that he might use her long hair to wipe his hands.
"Master,” she begged, daring to look up at him.
How needful they are, thought Cabot. How much they are in our power, once slave fires have been lit in their bellies.
Excellent, he thought. A most pleasant way to bring them to our feet.
The girl whimpered, piteously.
Several were even now serving, on belly or back, moaning, squirming, crying out, begging for more, on cushions cast about the floor of the hall. Others knelt, head down, on the tiles.
"Master, please, Master!” petitioned the girl.
"Petition another,” said Cabot, and left the hall.
* * * *
"I understand you have been very busy, Tarl,” said the slave, peering through the bars.
He did not respond to her.
"I spoke perhaps too earnestly, too directly, before,” she said. “I understand that you are a commander, that you have been important in the war, that you may have many duties to attend to, that you must have many duties to attend to, but now you have returned."
The bottom of the cage was wet, as were her knees, where she knelt in the dampness. One of the cleaning slaves had cast a bucket of water into the cage, to wash wastes from it, to be later cleaned. To one side, where she could reach it, through the bars, was a small bowl, in which lay a piece of fruit, and a crust of bread. On a nearby post hung a damp, bulging bag, and, on a nail driven into the same post, on a small string, hung a small metal cup. The cup was small enough to be passed through the bars.
"I am understood to be a slave,” she said. “Accordingly I will need to be claimed. I am now ready to be released. I trust you will see to it, and soon."
Cabot glanced to the other cages, in which the fair occupants were in first obeisance position, knowing themselves in the presence of a free person.
"Tarl,” she said. “Please, Tarl!"
Then he left.
"Come back!” she cried after him. “Come back, Tarl! Come back, Tarl!"
She then looked to the other slaves, and saw that they had now resumed positions of their choice, in their small, cramped quarters.
Some were regarding her, curiously.
* * * *
"Well done,” said Flavion.
Cabot did not respond to him.
"Yes, well done,” said Flavion, and then politely withdrew.
On the steel world in question, as well as on Gor, most festivals included a large number of competitions, agons, of one sort or another, usually races, spear casting, wrestling, log hurling, and such.
Although it had not been cultural on the world until recently, archery had been included in the agons. Cabot had done well, coming in second in the contests. Lord Grendel had not competed in that agon. His skill, as suggested earlier, was remarkable, but he declined to draw attention to it, perhaps being somewhat embarrassed by it, and certainly feeling that the ax was a more respectable, Kurlike weapon.
The winner of the archery contest was one of the men of Peisistratus, who had originally been of the peasants, of the village of Rarir.
Cabot, however, was not unskilled. He could, reportedly, draw a bow with most peasants. His preferred weapons, however, as was expected of his caste, were the sword and spear. His skill with the former tool was said to be deft, exquisite, and lethal.
On Gor, I am told, poetry of various sorts, literary efforts, musical compositions, choral dancing, enactments, and even song dramas are included in the agons.