John Norman Gor 07 Captive of Gor

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"May I speak?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
I knew I was not as these other women. I was not as they were.
"Why," I asked, "was I taken?"
Verna looked at me, for a long time. And then she said, "There is a man."
I looked up at her, helplessly.
"He has bought you."
The girls, led by Verna, again began to make their way through the dark,
moonlit forest.
Again the metal and leather collar slid shut on my throat, and with a gasp of
anguish, wrists bound behind my back, not permitted clothing, I followed at my
tether, not as they, the proud women of the forest, but only as I could be
among them, Kajira.
* * *
We continued on, for perhaps another hour. Once Verna lifted her hand, and we
stopped.
"Sleen" she said.
The girls looked about.
She had smelled the animal, somewhere.
One of the other girls said, "Yes."
Most of them merely looked about, their spears ready. I gathered few could
smell the animal. I could not. The wind was moving softly from my right.
After a time the girl who had said, "Yes," said, "It is gone now." She looked
at
Verna.
Verna nodded.
We again continued on out way.
I had sensed nothing, and I gathered that most of the other girls had not
either.
* * *
As we continued our journey, we could see the bright moons above.
The girls seemed restless, short-tempered, irritable. I saw more than one
looking at the moons.
"Verna," said one of them.
"Quiet," said Verna.
The file continued its journey through the trees and brush, threading its way
through the darkness and branches.
"We have seen men," said one of the girls, insistently.
"Be silent," said Verna.
"We should have taken slaves," said another, irritably.
"No," said Verna.
"The circle," said another. "We must go to the circle!"
Verna stopped and turned.
"It is on our way," said another.
"Please, Verna," said another, her voice pleading.
Verna regarded the girls. "Very well," she said, "we shall stop at the
circle."
The girls relaxed visibly.
Irritably, Verna turned, and again we continued on our way.
I understood nothing of this.
I was miserable. I cried out, suddenly, when a branch, unexpectedly struck me
across the belly. With a cry of rage the girl who held my leash expertly, with
a twist of her wrist, threw me choking from my feet. Then her foot was on the
leash a few inches from my neck, pinning me, choking, to the ground. With the
free end of the leash she struck me five times across my back.
"Silence, Kajira!" she hissed.
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Then I was pulled again to my feet, and we continued our journey. Again
branches struck me, but I did not cry out. My feet and legs were bleeding; my
body was lashed, and scratched.
I was nothing with these proud, free, dangerous, brave women, these
independent, superb, unfearing, resourceful, fierce felines, panther girls of
the northern forests of Gor. They were swift, and beautiful and arrogant, like
Verna. They were armed, and could protect themselves, and did not need men.
They could make men slaves, if they wished, and sell them later, if they were
displeased with them or wearied of them. And they could fight with knives and
knew the trails and trees of the vast forests. They feared nothing, and needed
nothing.
They were so different from myself.
They were strong, and unfearing. I was weak, and frightened.
It seemed they were of a sex, or breed, other than, and superior to my own.
Among such women I could be but the object of their scorn, what they despised
most, only Kajira.
And among them I felt myself to be only Kajira, one fit to be tethered and
led, scorned as an insult to the beauty and magnificence of their sex.
I was other than, and less than, they.
"Hurry, Kajira!" snapped the girl who dragged in my leash.
"Yes, Mistress," I whispered.
She laughed.
I was being taken at night through the forest, a bound slave. Verna had told
me that there was a man. I had been told that I had been bought. I was being
delivered by women, another woman, but a weakling, one who was only a piece of
merchandise, one who, on this harsh world, could be only merchandise, to my
master.
I wept.
* * *
Then, after perhaps another hour, we came, almost abruptly, suddenly, to a
stand of the high trees, the Tur trees, of the northern forests.
It was breathtakingly beautiful.
The girls stopped.
I looked about myself. The forests of the northern temperate latitudes of Gor
are countries in themselves, covering hundreds of thousands of square pasangs
of area. They contain great numbers of various species of trees, and different
portions of the forests may differ considerably among themselves. The most
typical and famous tree of these forests is the lofty, reddish Tur tree, some
varieties of which grow more than two hundred feet high. It is not known how
far these forests extend. It is not impossible that they belt the land
surfaces of the planet. They begin near the shores of Thassa, the Sea, in the
west. How far they extend to the east is not known. They do extend beyond the
most northern ridges of the Thentis Mountains.
We found ourselves now in a stand of the lofty Tur trees. I could see broadly
spreading branches some two hundred feet or more above my head. The trunks of
the trees were almost bare of branches until, so far above, branches seemed to
explode in an interlacing blanket of foliage, almost obliterating the sky. I
could see glimpses of the three moons high above. The floor of the forest was
almost bare. Between the lofty, widely spaced trees there was little but a
carpeting of leaves.
I saw two of the girls looking up at the moons. Their lips were parted, their
fists clenched. There seemed to be pain in their eyes.
"Verna," said one of them.
"Silence," said their leader.
It was no accident that we had stopped at this place.
One of the girls whimpered.
"All right," said Verna, "go to the circle."
The girl turned and sped across the carpeting of leaves.
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"Me, Verna!" cried another.
"To the circle," said Verna, irritably.
The girl turned and sped after the first. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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