Magicians of Gor coc-25, page 14
part #25 of Chronicles of Counter-Earth Series
We then continued east on Harness Street.
"Did you enjoy the performance at the great theater last night?" I asked. "Of course," said Marcus. "It was just the way to spend a long evening, prior to having one's sleep interrupted before dawn by a wagon convoy."
"I thought you might like it," I said.
The performance, a pageant, had been called "The Glory of Cos," and the famed Milo, the city's most famous actor, though a slave, had played the part of Lurius of Jad. The roofed stage of the great theater, usually called that, though technically, it was the theater of Pentilicus Tallux, a poet of Ar, of over a century ago, best known for his poems in the delicate trilesiac form and two sensitive, intimate dramas, was over a hundred yards in width, and some twenty yards in depth. This incredible stage, although only the center portions of it were used on many occasions, lent itself to large-scale productions, such as circuses and spectacles. It could easily accommodate a thousand actors. Too, given its strength, ponderous tharlarion, together with numerous other beasts, wagons and such, could appear on it, as they had last night, for example, in staged battles, in which Lurius of Jad, by personal intervention and at great personal risk, again and again turned the tide, and triumphal processions, as at the climax of the pageant.
"Did you enjoy the pageant?" I asked Phoebe.
"Yes, Master!" she said.
"I thought I heard you gasp when Milo first appeared on the stage," said Marcus. "He is very handsome in his costume, Master," she said.
"Undoubtedly," said Marcus.
"Surely master is not jealous?" inquired Phoebe, delightedly.
"No," he snarled.
"You may beat me tonight, if you wish," she said.
"I may beat you any night, if I wish," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"By count," I said, "I think that some eleven free women were carried fainted, or helpless, from the theater."
"Surely no more than one or two," said Marcus.
"No, eleven," I said.
"Master is a thousand times more handsome than Milo," said Phoebe.
"Apparently you do wish the lash," he said.
"No, Master!" she said.
"Am I really so handsome?" asked Marcus.
"To me, Master," she said.
"Hmmmm," said Marcus, considering this, I speculate. He was, I think, a good-looking young chap. To be sure, he may not have been quite as handsome as I.
"Of course I am only one woman," she said.
"And only a female slave," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Still," he said, "you are a woman."
"But only a female slave," she said.
"True," he said.
Phoebe, I think, in her way, was having her vengeance. For example, when we had passed by various open-air markets, shelf markets, and such, many of the girls, nude in their chains, usually fastened by the neck or ankle to heavy iron rings, had clearly, to the fury of Phoebe, in posings, and by means of subtle glances, and such, attempted to call themselves to the attention of the young warrior. Only too obviously would they have welcomed being his slaves.
"Probably some women would regard me as being less handsome than Milo," he mused.
"Perhaps, Master," she said.
"Probably at least eleven," I said.
"I did not note women swooning over the sight of you," said Marcus.
"It was dark," I reminded him.
To be sure, as is well known, and doubtless fortunately for we who are not Milos, the attractiveness of a man to woman is seldom based on physiognominal regularities. For example, men who are not in any normal sense handsome, sometimes even grotesquely irregular men, often exercise an enormous fascination over beautiful women. Women tend to respond to a great variety of properties in a male, few of which are directly correlated with facial symmetries. Among such properties are initiative, will, command, intelligence, strength, and power, in short, with characteristics appropriate to a master. Too, of course, with women, who are enormously sensitive, complex, marvelous creatures, can hope for, welcome, and respond to, such things as tenderness, gentleness, and softness. Here one must be careful, however, to distinguish between the tenderness of the strong man, who is truly strong, and the softness of the weakling, who is merely weak. Tenderness, gentleness, and such, become meaningful only in the context of, and against a background of, a temporarily suspended, perhaps even momentarily suspended, strength and command. Only she who is truly at the mercy of a male, and his slave, and under his discipline, can truly appreciate the value of such things.
"We are coming to the Wall Road," said Marcus. This is the longest road, or street, in Ar. It follows the interior circumference of the wall. It is not only a convenience to citizens but it enables troops to be moved rapidly from point to point in the defenses.
I could hear the flutes.
In attending the great theater last night we had conceded to public opinion, or, more particularly, to the sensibilities of free women, clothing Phoebe modestly, or at least somewhat modestly. Indeed, had we not, we would probably not have been permitted within with her. First we drape a sheet about her. This, with a piece of cloth, we rigged a veil. After this we drew the sheet up in the back and put it about her head, that it might also serve as a hood. Phoebe herself, of course, held the sheet about her. When we were finished we thought it a job rather well done, an approximation to the robes of concealment, hood and veil. Little more than Phoebe's soft, dark eyes and the bridge of her nose could be seen, except of course, at the bottom, where one might detect her bared ankles and feet. We did not think that Phoebe could relax he vigilance in clutching the sheet about her. She was naked beneath it. Marcus did not want her to forget that she was a slave. Slaves, incidentally, may attend various such functions, particularly those intended for a general audience. Indeed, sometimes masters, with their individual slave or slaves, and even owners of feast slaves, (pg. 113) managers of slave house, taverns, and brothels, and such, will bring a chain of slaves to various events, such as races, contests, games or performances. Private masters, for example, often relish the company of their slaves at such events, and public masters, so to speak, recognize the value of such outings for slaves, as stimulation and recreation. Also the give the master more power over the girl. What girl wishes to be left behind, in her kennel, while her chain sisters enjoy an evening at the theater or games? Marcus had had a brief altercation with the taker of ostraka at the entrance, not wishing to pay an entrance fee, or at least the entire entrance fee, for a slave. The taker of ostraka, however, had been adamant, pleading policy and arguing cogently that even a sleen or verr would have to pay, as they would occupy space in the house. Too, what if a fellow were to bring in ten thousand free slaves? Then there would be little room even for free folk. Too, think of all the money the house would lose. For example, their presence is sometimes prohibited at certain song dramas and concerts. Similarly, they may not enter temples. In such cases, facilities are usually provided for their custody, usually a walled enclosure, sometimes adjoining the structure, or sets of posts or rings, for their chaining.
"Hold!" said a voice.
Marcus and I stopped, and Phoebe knelt beside Marcus, back a bit, in close heeling position.
"You are armed," said the voice. He was in uniform of a guardsmen of Ar, but his accent was Cosian. There were still guardsmen of Ar, native guardsmen of Ar, in the city, but their numbers had been considerably reduced and they were generally assigned duties of low responsibility. Even then they were under the command of Cosian officers. Putting Cosians in the uniforms of guardsmen of Ar, of course, did suggest that they were, at least in one sense or another, guardsmen of Ar. Surely, at least, they were guardsmen in Ar. Perhaps the folks of Ar found this sort of thing reassuring, or, at least, less objectionable then if the fellows seemed a foreign garrison force, clad openly in Cosian uniform. This is not to deny that there were Cosian regulars, in Cosian uniform, in the city, in numbers. Too, may Cosian mercenaries were in the city, with their identifying armbands, scarves, and such. Myron, probably intelligently, however, had limited the numbers of such mercenaries who might enter the city at any one time. some incidents had occurred nonetheless, such as the destruction of property in various taverns and the vandalization of certain buildings, for example, baths and libraries. Certain shops had apparently also been looted, though no mention of this had appeared on the public boards. The armed forces of Ar had been disbanded, of course, both foot and cavalry, both tharlarion and tarn. Not even border patrols had been retained. Beasts and equipment were acquired by Cos. Most of these men had left the vicinity of the city. I did not know what might become of them. Doubtless they would seek various employments. Perhaps some would become brigands. Some, of course, remained in the city, perhaps hoping to hire into the guardsmen.
"Yes," I said.
"Are you of Ar?" asked the guardsman.
"No," I said.
"What is your employment?" asked the guardsman.
"I seek employment," I said.
"You are not of Ar?"
"No," I said.
"Can you use that blade?" he asked.
"Passably," I said.
"There may be employment for such as you," he said. "Men are needed."
"May we pass?" I asked.
"What do you wish here," he asked, "if you are not of Ar?"
"To see the progress of the works," I said.
He laughed. "And the flute girls?" he said.
"Surely," I said.
"Pass," he said.
We then continued on our way. The carrying of weapons, and even their possession, was now illegal for citizens of Ar, exceptions being made for guardsmen and such. The populace of Ar, then, was disarmed. This was reputedly for its own protection. Compliance with the disarmament laws was also taken as a fitting token of good will on the part of those of Ar, and an indication both of their good intentions and of their zealous desire for peace. Too, it was called to their attention that arms were now unnecessary, given the blessings of peace, attendant upon the liberation.
"It will be only a matter of time," said Marcus, "before weapons will be altogether illegal in the city."
"Except for those authorized to carry them," I said.
"Cosians," he said.
"And such," I said.
"You noticed how he inquired into our employments?" said Marcus.
"Of course," I said.
"Soon," he said, "there will be regulations about such things, and papers, and permits, and ostraka, and such."
"I would suppose so," I said. To be sure, I had an idea that an employment, and in the fee of Cos, might fit in with my plans, and perhaps those of Marcus, as well.
"It will be worse than under Gnieus Lelius," he said.
"Yes," I said. I supposed that Gnieus Lelius was now on his way to Cos. Perhaps he was already there.
"Perhaps Milo can save Ar," he said.
"Do not be bitter," I said.
I myself had rather enjoyed the pageant glorifying Cos, or, as it actually turned out, Lurius of Jad. The production had been well designed, well staged, brilliantly costumed, and impressively acted. Indeed, it is hard to get a thousand actors on a stage without being impressive in one way or another. Too, I had to admit, in spite of misgivings on the subject, that Milo was a handsome fellow, and certainly played a part well. It was somewhat ironic to see Lurius of Jad, whom I had once seen, a corpulent slug of a man, portrayed by such a godlike fellow as Milo, but then that was probably in the best interests of the drama's intent, and artistic license, as I understand it, permits such occasional thespic peccadilloes.
"I think that drama must have lasted five Ahn," said Marcus.
"Probably no more than three," I said. "Did you enjoy the fellow who played the wicked, conniving Gnieus Lelius?"
"Of course," said Marcus. "I had not realized thitherto that even a demented sleen could be so wicked."
"You just did not have your mind on the drama," I said.
"That is perhaps true," said Marcus, perking up.
"You just did not realize that Phoebe could be so fetching, completely concealed," I said.
"But underneath the sheet naked," Marcus reminded me.
"You could not wait to get her home," I said.
"Perhaps," he said.
No sooner had he had Phoebe inside the door to our room in the insula than he had torn the sheet and veil from her and flung her on her belly on the straw-filled mat, then leaping upon her with a cry of joy.
"Do you think others knew she was naked?" he asked.
"From the glances, and expressions, I think a free woman to two suspected it," I said. One had sneered "Slave!" to Phoebe, to which Phoebe had put down her head saying, "Yes, Mistress." There had been little difficulty, of course, in folks knowing that Phoebe was a slave, given, for example, that her primary covering was a sheet and that her feet were bared. Too, during intermissions Marcus knelt her at his feet, with her head down.
"Let them crawl naked before a man, fearing his whip," said Marcus.
"Free women?" I said.
"Well," said Marcus, irritably, "collar them first."
"I would hope so," I said.
To be sure, it is pleasant to have free women in such a predicament. It helps them to understand that fate which is to be shortly theirs.
"I do not like Milo," said Marcus.
"You are angry because he is such a handsome fellow," I said.
"The drama was a poor one," said Marcus.
"Not at all," I said.
"It was a waste of money," said Marcus.
"Phoebe liked it," I said.
"What does she know?" asked Marcus.
"She is a highly intelligent, well-educated women," I said.
"A slave," he said.
"Now," I said. Many Goreans enjoy owning highly intelligent, well-educated women. It is pleasant to have them at your feet, yours, begging, eager to please you, knowing, too, that if they do not, they will be punished. To be sure, thousands of sorts of women make excellent slaves, each in their different ways. It had cost three full coppers for our admission to the pageant, and one of those was for Phoebe. The first performance of the pageant, several days ago, had been attended by Talena, the Ubara. I had not been able to obtain admission ostraka for that performance, as it was apparently restricted. I had lingered by her path to the theater, with others in a crowd, but I had been able to see only her palanquin, its curtains drawn, borne not by slaves but by stout fellows apparently of the staff of the Central Cylinder. The palanquin, too, was surrounded by guardsmen, either of Ar or Cos. It interested me that the Ubara, so popular in the city, presumably, should require so much security. Behind the palanquin, on tharlarion, side by side, had ridden Seremides, formerly high general Ar, now, in peacetime, first minister to her majesty, the Ubara, and Myron, the polemarkos of Temos. Seremides, to be sure, now as captain, high captain, retained command of the palace guard, the Taurentians. There were probably some twenty-five hundred of these fellows in the city. I had not seen Talena when she had left the palanquin, for she had done so within the theater's outer concourse, hidden from the street. That she now wore the garments of Cos I had heard, but I had not seen her in them.
We could now hear the flute music quite clearly.
"There!" I said, startled.
I had not realized that so much had been done since my last visit to this area. I hurried forward, to the Wall Road.
A gigantic breach, over four hundred yards in width, had been made in the wall. The bottom of the breach was still some forty or fifty feet high. The edges of is tapered up to the height of the wall on each side, in this area, some hundred to a hundred and twenty feet Gorean above the pavement. The breach swarmed with human beings. Stone after stone was being tumbled down from the walls, to the outside of the city. These, I had heard, on the other side, were being lifted to wagons and carted away. On the walls were not only men of Ar, and male youth, but women and girls, as well.
I stood on the Wall Road, back near Harness Street. Here I was about a hundred feet back from the wall. In moment or two Marcus was again beside me, and Phoebe behind him, on his left. The girl normally heels a right-handed master on the left, that she not encumber the movements of the weapon hand.
"Much progress had been made since last we came here," I said.
"About the walls, here and there, thousands apply themselves," he said.
This was not the only breach in the walls, of course, but it was that which was nearest to our lodgings. Here some hundreds, at least, were laboring. Others, of course, on the other side of the wall, would be gathering up tumbled stone, loading it and removing it from the area. The walls of Ar, in effect, had become a quarry. This would, I suppose, depress the market for stone in various cities, perhaps even as far away as Venna. There were many uses for such stone, but most had to do with materials for building, paving and fill. Much of the stone would be pounded into gravel by prisoners and slaves far from the city. This gravel was used mainly for bedding primary roads and paving secondary roads. There were, at present, nineteen such breaches about the city. These breaches, multiplying the avenues of possible assault on the city, were not randomly located. They were set at tactically optimum sites for such assaults and distributed in such a manner as to require the maximum dispersal of defensive forces. The pursued objective, of course, was to multiply and join breaches, until the razing of the walls of Ar was complete.
