He struck her three times, but, as she cringed and cried out, he was observing not the girl so much but Cabot. Cabot remained expressionless.
"Well done,” whispered Peisistratus to Cabot, in English.
"She is only a pet,” said Cabot, noncommittally, in English.
"True,” said Peisistratus, “but a nicely curved one."
"She will do,” said Cabot.
"I would like to see her in a collar,” said Peisistratus.
"She belongs in one,” said Cabot.
"Should I not kill her?” asked Pyrrhus of Peisistratus.
"I think,” said Peisistratus, “she is trying to be a good pet."
"She called out, she spilled water,” said Pyrrhus.
"It is doubtless my fault,” said Peisistratus, “for I introduced our friend, Tarl Cabot, into your domicile with insufficient warning. If you do not wish to keep her, give her to me, and I will take her to the Pleasure Cylinder, where she may be whip-trained and, silked, taught to serve paga properly, taught to squirm in the alcove, and such."
"You are muchly favored of Agamemnon,” said Pyrrhus.
"It is my hope to serve him well,” said Peisistratus.
"My hope, as well,” said Pyrrhus.
"Of course,” said Peisistratus.
"Perhaps I will give her another chance,” came from the translator.
"If you wish, Lord Pyrrhus,” said Cabot, “I will take the pathetic creature off your hands."
"I will give her another chance,” came from the translator.
Pyrrhus then uttered a command in Kur and the girl hurried to the furs and leapt into his arms. Cabot, on the Prison Moon, had seen the blonde leap similarly into the arms of the Kur he had come to recognize as Arcesilaus. The blonde, however, had leapt happily into the brute's grasp, and obviously the girl before him, though she had done so with fearful alacrity, had also done so with terror. How frightening it must have been for her, thought Cabot, to put herself within the grasp of those mighty appendages, within reach of those massive jaws.
She is trying to be a good pet, thought Cabot.
"We must be on our way,” said Peisistratus.
Cabot looked back at the brunette, her wrists braceleted behind her, cuddled in those massive arms, her body pressed closely, obediently, pathetically against that mighty, hirsute frame.
"Let us go,” said Peisistratus.
Pyrrhus, however, gestured with his left paw, that Cabot should approach. He gestured him even closer, and then moved the fur on his right shoulder, in which movement it rippled, wavelike, and uttered a soft sound to the girl. Cabot noted within the fur tiny movements, the stirring of startled, disturbed, miniscule, crawling bodies.
The girl, in her collar and chain, weeping, pulling a little at her hands, confined behind her in the bracelets, with her small, fine, white teeth, addressed herself to her task, that of freshening and cleansing the fur of her master.
"Let us go,” said Peisistratus.
About the jaws of Pyrrhus Cabot noted the grimace he had come to recognize as a Kur smile.
"Let us go,” urged Peisistratus.
He and Cabot then left the apartment of Pyrrhus.
"I suppose,” said Cabot, in English, “I must kill him."
"Or he, you,” said Peisistratus.
They continued down the passageway.
"Why would you kill him?” asked Peisistratus.
"Because he would kill me,” said Cabot.
"Not for the girl?"
"No,” said Cabot, “she is only a slave."
"But an attractive one."
"She will do,” said Cabot.
"I do not think you need worry about Pyrrhus,” said Peisistratus.
"Oh?"
"No."
"Why not?” asked Cabot. He wished he had his weapons, the mighty Gorean spear, the great bow, even the swift short blade, like part of his own hand, which could strike like the ost.
"Because,” said Peisistratus, “Pyrrhus is not in favor with Agamemnon."
Chapter, the Eleventh:
IT IS LIKE A TAVERN
"They dance well,” said Cabot.
"There is not one,” said Peisistratus, “who would not bring three silver tarsks, even in Turia or Ar."
"I am sure of it,” said Cabot. Rarely had he seen women who presented themselves so well before masters.
"You may, of course,” said Peisistratus, “have your pick."
"The musicians,” said Cabot, “might grace the feast of a Ubar."
"Many have,” said Peisistratus.
"What is the meat?” had asked Cabot.
"Have no fear,” had said Peisistratus. “It is bosk, tarsk, and verr."
"The paga is splendid,” said Cabot.
"It is the paga of Temus of Ar,” said Peisistratus.
"It is my favorite,” said Cabot.
"We know,” said Peisistratus. “That is why it is being served."
"I am muchly pleased,” said Cabot.
"Good,” said Peisistratus. “Agamemnon, too, will then be pleased."
"It seems you know much about me,” said Cabot.
"Inquiries were made,” said Peisistratus. “It is our desire that you find your stay with us comfortable and pleasant."
Cabot looked about himself. “This might be a tavern in a high city,” he said, “the counter, the vats of paga, the square of sand for the dancers, the polished wooden floors, the low ceiling, the hangings, the cozy dimness, the small lamps, the curtained alcoves, such things."
"That is our intention,” said Peisistratus, “that it should seem so."
"The men about,” said Cabot, looking about the tables, “seem in good spirits."
"Most are drunk,” said Peisistratus. “They would rather be on Gor."
The Pleasure Cylinder, as other subsidiary cylinders to the Steel World in question, those for sport, industry, and agriculture, is reached by an automated shuttle, which departs from and docks at predesignated portals. Entrance to the shuttle and departure from it is by means of a system of locks. In this fashion the occupants, or passengers, never exposed to the rigors and perils of a near vacuum, need not concern themselves with complex suiting, reaction devices, safety lines, and such. If one could conceive of swimming without water, so to speak, that gives a sense of movement within the shuttle, while it is in flight. Handles within the shuttle, which may be held, or grasped, provide leverage for staying in position, or, if one wishes, moving about within the shuttle.
"Who are the two Kurii?” asked Cabot.
"They are strangers,” said Peisistratus. “Those commonly in attendance, to monitor the cylinder, are not present."
"Strangers?"
"Officers of Agamemnon,” said Peisistratus.
"Why are they here?"
"Because you are here,” said Peisistratus. “Doubtless they would not wish any harm to come to you."
"They are spies."
"Yes."
"As are you?"
"Perhaps."
The two in question, large and fearsome, crouched almost at the shoulder of Cabot. He could occasionally feel the breath of one on his neck.
"Do you not recognize them?” said Peisistratus.
"No,” said Cabot.
"You encountered them in the audience hall of Agamemnon,” said Peisistratus.
"His attendants?"
"Yes."
As the names of these two individuals are in Kur we shall refer to them, as is our wont, by choosing, almost at random, names whose phonemic nature will be accessible to readers who may be supposed unfamiliar with Kur. We shall refer to them, in this case, by names which are not unfamiliar in Ar, indeed, names somewhat common in Ar, Lucullus and Crassus.
"Doubtless,” said Peisistratus, “Kurii look much alike to you."
"I fear so, many of them,” said Cabot.
"Some Kurii have difficulty distinguishing amongst humans,” said Peisistratus.
"Interesting,” said Cabot.
"Particularly in the case of human cattle."