“I will have all arrangements made,” he said, “for your investiture as Ubara of Ar.” “But,” she said, “Marlenus, I do not wish to be Ubara of Ar.” His men gasped. My men could not speak. I, too, was struck with silence. To be Ubara of Ar was the most glorious thing to which a woman might aspire. It meant that she would be the richest and most powerful woman on Gor, that armies and navies, and tarn cavalries, could move upon her very word, that the taxes of an empire the wealthiest on Gor could be laid at her feet, that the most precious of gems and jewelries might be hers, that she would be the most envied woman on the planet.
“I have the forests,” she said.
Marlenus could not speak.
“It seems,” he said,that I am not always victorious.”
“No,” she said, “Marlenus, you have been victorious.”
He looked at her, puzzled.
“I love you,” she said. “I loved you even before I knew you, but I will not wear your collar and I will not share your throne.” “I do not understand,” he said. I had not thought, ever, to see the Ubar as he stood there, looming over this woman, whom he might, did he choose, seize and own, but standing there numb, not understanding.” “You do not understand,” said she, “because I am a woman.” He shook his head.
“It is called freedom,” she said.
Then Verna turned away from him, in the skins of a panther woman. “I shall wait for my women in the forest,” she said. “Tell them to find me there.” “Wait!” said Marlenus of Ar. His voice was agonized. His hand lifted, as though to beg her to return with him.
I was startled. Never had I understood that the Ubar of Ar could be thus. He had cared, he then understood, and we, too, for this lonely, proud, beautiful woman. “Yes?” asked Verna, turning to regard him. in her eyes, too, I thought I saw moisture.
Whatever Marlenus might have said to her, he did not say. He stood still for a moment, and then straightened himself. With one hand he tore from his throat the leather and claws he wore there. I saw that among those barbaric ornaments was a ring. I gasped, for it was the seal of Ar, the signet of Glorious Ar. He threw it to Verna, as a bauble.
She caught it.
“With that,” he said, “you are safe in the realm of Ar. With that you can command the power of the city. This is as the word of the Ubar. With this you can buy supplies. With this you can command soldiers. Any who comes upon you and see this ring will know that behind you stands the power of Ar.” “I do not want it,” she said.
“Wear it,” said Marlenus, “for me.”
Verna smiled. “Then,” said she, “I want it.” She tied the ring on a bit of leather about her neck.
“The Ubara of Ar,” said he,” might wear such a ring.”
“I have the forests,” she said. “Are they not more beautiful even that the city of Ar?” They regarded one another.
“I will never see you again,” said Marlenus.
Verna shrugged. “Perhaps not,” she said. “But perhaps you will.”
He looked at her.
“Perhaps, sometime,” she said. “I will trek to Ar. I have heard that it is a fine city.” He grinned.
“And perhaps,” said she, “from time to time, you might come again to hunt in the northern forests.” “Yes,” he said. “Such is my intention.” “Good,” she said. “Perhaps, sometimes, we can hunt together.” Then she turned to depart.
“I wish you well. Woman,” said Marlenus of Ar.
She turned to face him, and smiled. “I, too,” said she, “wish you well.” Then she turned and vanished into the dark green shadows of the northern forests.
Marlenus stood for a long time, looking after her. Then he turned to face me. He wiped his forearm across his mouth. He threw back his head and laughed and wept. “The wind,” he said, “is cold, and stings my eyes.” He looked at his men. None dared to speak. He shrugged. “She is only a woman,” he said to me. “Let us conclude our business.” “Those who were crews from Tyros on the Rhoda and Tesephone,” I said, “will be taken to Port Kar and sold on the wharves as slaves. The proceeds from their sales will be divided, among my men, whose captives they were.” “This woman,” said Marlenus, thrusting Hura with his foot to the sand. “I claim.” He stood with his foot on the side of her neck. She lay twisted. “She was returned to me by the woman, Verna, while still she wore my collar.” “She is yours,” I said.
Hura moaned.
I surmised she would look well in slave silk, in the pleasure gardens of her master, Marlenus of Ar.
“one slave in my coffle is yours,” said Marlenus. He indicated Grenna. Grenna had originally been tied with Verna’s women. When they were freed, she, pending her disposition, and as slave security, had been fastened with Hura’s beauties.
“Cut her out of the coffle,” said Marlenus.
Grenna, in her tatters of white wool, her hands tied behind her back, knelt before me, head to the sand. The severed coffle leather was still knotted about her neck.
“Does she please you?” I asked Arn.
“She does,” said Arn.
“She is yours,” I told him, giving him Grenna. “Remove her collar,” I told Thurnock. The peasant giant did so.
Then Arn summoned his men, those who accompanied me. “I depart,” said he. “I wish you well, Arn,” I said, “and the others, too.” He began to leave the beach. Grenna looked wildly after him. Then, hands still tied behind her back, she ran to him.
“Master,” she said.
He looked at her. “I am an outlaw,” said he. “I have little use for a slave.” She stood there, bewildered. “I find you beautiful,” said Arn. “I desire you.” “I do not understand,” she stammered.
He turned her about. With his sleen knife he cut the knotted loop of coffle leather from her throat. With his knife he cut the binding fiber from her wrists. He then held her from behind, by the arms, and kissed her, gently, on the right side of her throat.
Still held, she whispered, not looking at him, “Am I not to submit to you?” He released her arms. “No,” he said. “I free you.” She turned to face him. she stood on the beach. She rubbed her wrists. She seemed startled.
“I have little time,” said Arn, “I am an outlaw. I must hunt.” He turned away. “I am Grenna,” she cried suddenly. “I was second to Hura. I, too, am an outlaw. I, too, know the forests. I, too, must hunt.” Arn turned and faced her. “Do you find me pleasing?” he asked.
“I do,” said she, “Arn.”
“On my head,” said Arn, “I wear the degradation strip.”
“Let me, too, so shave my head,” said she.
He smiled. “I must hunt,” he said.
She smiled at him. “I must hunt, too,” she said.
Arn extended her his hand. “Come,” he said, “let us hunt together.” Arn and Grenna, followed by his men, entered the forest, and disappeared. “Let the slave Tina stand before me,” said I.
Tina, in my collar, in white wool, stood before me.
“To a slave,” said I, “I owe much, and my men, too.”
“Nothing is owed to a slave,” said Tina, her head was down.
“You cannot return to Lydius,” I said. “There you would live only as a slave.” “Master?” she asked.
Turus stood behind her. About his left wrist was the amethyst-studded wristlet. “In Port Kar,” said I, “there is a caste of thieves. It is the only know caste of thieves on Gor.” She looked at me.
“You will have little difficulty,” I said, “in earning entrance into that caste.” “I have seen the thief’s brand!” she cried. “It is beautiful!” It was a tiny, three-pronged brand, burned into the face over the right cheekbone. I had seen it several times, once on one who worked for the mysterious Others, a member of a crew of a black ship, once encountered in the mountains of the Voltai, not far from great Ar itself. The caste of thieves was important to Port Kar, and eve honored. It represented a skill which in the city was held in high repute. Indeed, so jealous of their prerogatives were the caste of thieves that they often hunted thieves who did not belong to the caste, and slew them, throwing their bodies to the urts in the canals. Indeed, there was less thievery in Port Kar than there might have been were there no caste of thieves in the city. They protected, jealously, their own territories from amateur competition. Ear notching and mutilation, common punishment on Gor for thieves, were not found in Port Kar. The caste was too powerful. On the other hand, it was regarded as permissible to slay a male thief or take a female thief slave if the culprit could be apprehended and a caste member, was to be remanded to the police of the arsenal. If found guilty in the court of the arsenal, the male thief would be sentenced, for a week to a year, to hard labor in the arsenal or on the wharves; the female thief would be sentenced to service, for a week to a year, in a straw-strewn cell in one of Port Kar’s penal brothels. They are chained by the left ankle to a ring in the stone. Their food is that of a galley slave, peas, black bread and onions. If they serve well, however, their customers often bring them a bit of meat or fruit. Few thieves of Port Kar have not served time, depending on their sex, either in the arsenal or on the wharves, or in the brothels.