“This is a sleen,” said Tajima, looking down.
A rumbling emanated from within its thoracic cavity. Then it closed its eyes, and slept.
“His name,” I said, “is Ramar.”
Chapter Forty-Three
THE RECRUIT
“It was a very foolish thing you did, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Lord Nishida.
“Perhaps,” I said.
“We could have lost a galley,” he said.
“I am pleased she is safe,” I said.
“You brought a dangerous animal on board,” he said.
“No more dangerous, surely,” I said, “than ten larls.”
“They are caged,” he said.
“Not at Tarncamp,” I said.
“The larl is large and noble,” said Lord Nishida. “The sleen is sly and treacherous.”
“It may one day save your life,” I said.
“How is that?” he said.
“It is alert to menace, to deceit,” I said.
“It is a beast,” he said.
“An unusual beast,” I said.
“It is a mystical thing,” he smiled, “something magical, possessing a gift of divination?”
“Not at all,” I said. “I think it has to do with scent, and with changes in a body, reticences, tensings, an incipient readiness to spring, restrained, such things.”
“If it is to remain on board,” he said. “It must be caged, or chained.”
“It has spent much of its life in such imprisonments,” I said. “It waits for the chain to be removed, the door of the cage opened.”
“It is very large,” he said. “It is not wild, I take it.”
“No,” I said. Ramar was the consequence of a long line of domestic breeding, on a Steel World, of generations of selection, designed to produce size, swiftness, agility, ferocity, and cunning. It had been bred, literally, for the hunt, and the arena.
“To what commands will it respond?” he asked.
“I do not know,” I said. “And if I did, I could not pronounce them.”
I was unable to produce the phonemes of Kur.
“That is strange,” said Lord Nishida.
“They are in a different language,” I said, “one spoken in a far place.”
I observed lord Nishida closely, but he gave no sign of understanding me, of suspecting what might be the different language, or the far place.
I thought it well to change the course of our exchange.
“You might find such a beast of value,” I said.
“Oh?” he said.
“It is an excellent tracker,” I said. Indeed, the sleen was a tenacious, indefatigable tracker, the finest on Gor. Its tracking skills had doubtless been evolved for the pursuit of game, but, in the domesticated sleen, often carefully bred for generations, they often proved of great value to humans. It was not unusual for a sleen to locate and pursue a track which might have been laid down several days earlier. There have been documented cases of a sleen locating and following a trail put down more than a month earlier.
An obvious application of sleen is in hunting, say, tabuk, wild tarsk, and such. A related application of sleen is in tracking fugitives, slave girls foolish enough to think they might escape, and such. Depending on the commands issued, the sleen will either destroy and feed on the quarry, or drive it to a preappointed destination, usually a cage, the gate of which the quarry, if it wishes to live, must close, and swiftly, therewith locking itself within. There are also guard sleen, which guard granaries, storerooms, warehouses, and such. They may, too, patrol the perimeters of camps, to prevent intrusions and unauthorized departures. Many a slave girl has been turned back at a camp’s periphery, sometimes to be hurried back to her master, by the fangs of a sleen to whom her value and beauty are a matter of utter indifference. Sleen may also be used to guard prisoners, holding them in place. Too, some sleen are used for herding. They may be used, for example, to herd stripped free women, not yet embonded, to whom the coffle might seem an indignity. Many such women are only too eager then to be permitted to seek refuge within a warrior’s tent, within which they will serve as, and be used as, a slave. After a free woman has been used as a slave she is usually branded. After that, what else is she good for? She may then be coffled, without reservation. An interesting application, similar to the above, occurs when free women, in the hope of escaping looters, chains, and flames, hurry by postern gates and obscure exits from a fallen city into the surrounding countryside. Those who are not promptly taken into custody, running into the arms of enemy soldiers, fallen into fragilely roofed siege ditches, rather like capture pits, finding themselves unable to scale walls of circumvallation, caught in slave wire, taken in slave snares or slave traps, and such, may be sought by trained sleen. Each woman is likely to mean silver in the coffers of the conquerors. The sleen are trained then to round up, herd, and drive these women to the enclosures, say, corrals or pens, waiting for them. Some sleen are even trained to hold down and tear the garmenture from such women before starting them on their journey toward their readied facilities of incarceration. Recalcitrant quarry are eaten. In any event, there are numerous uses for domestic sleen, far more than it would be practical or convenient to enumerate. Some other uses, which might be mentioned in passing, for mere purposes of illustration, would be that of the bodyguard, and that of an animal used for sport, as in racing, or fighting. Ramar, for example, had been bred primarily as an arena animal, and, in his matches, had been a favorite amongst Kur gamblers.
“I am unfamiliar with such animals,” he said.
“But you know something of them,” I said.
“Of course,” he said.
It was the day following Ramar’s arrival on board. It was now toward the tenth Ahn, the Gorean noon, and Lord Nishida and I were met on the main deck, amidships. Ramar was below, caged in the same hold as Lord Nishida’s larls. I had looked in on him several times. He had usually slept. Twice he had taken broth, and then slept again. How odd, I thought, had been that pursuit. I could not understand what might have been its motivation. Surely he could have died. Why should he, a mere beast, and a land beast, too, have essayed so long, dubious, and dangerous a journey? It made no sense. He could have lived in the forest on game, eventually made his way south, and such. Would that not have been best for him? Yet he had followed the great ship. How unaccountable, how inexplicable, I thought, had been that stubborn, single-minded, unremitting pursuit. It was absurd. Perhaps the beast was indeed mad, as a mariner had suggested. It made no sense. In four or five days, perhaps ten, I expected him to be muchly recovered from his ordeal. The heart was sound. It had not burst. He had not died in the freezing sea.
“It was not to reprimand you,” said Lord Nishida, “that I suggested we meet.”
I nodded.
A suggestion from Lord Nishida, of course, as might be an invitation from a high council or a Ubar, was not the sort of thing one would ignore.
Overhead, several of the tarns were being exercised.
“I have a recruit for the cavalry,” said Lord Nishida, “one who has demonstrated his capacity to ride, and one whose sword is a welcome addition to our blades.”
“I do not understand,” I said. “I thought our contingents carefully formed, and complete.”
“This remarkable individual,” said Lord Nishida, “appeared in the river camp some five days before the launching of the ship.”
“From where?” I inquired.
“From Ar, it seems,” said Lord Nishida.
“I know of no new recruits,” I said.
“He entered the camp, and slew two mercenaries, guards, before the tent of Lord Okimoto, as proof of prowess, and demanded to be presented to his Excellency. This was done. He proved his sword was of great value, for he then slew four, who were set against him.”