"More food," I said, returning to my place, "and clear this mess!" "Yes, Master," said a naked brunet. "Yes, Master!" said a naked redhead. They hurried to serve, kneeling. They looked well in their collars. The collar accentuates the nudity and beauty of a slave, and, too, of course, it proclaims her bondage. I retrieved a large grape, about the size of a small plum, from the table, before they could clear it away. It lay near an overturned wine goblet, in a wine stain. It had rolled there, across the sparkling cloth, when it had been dislodged from its position in its shallow, golden bowl in the blonde's transit. It was peeled and pitted, doubtless laboriously by female slaves. It was a Ta grape. One often associates them with the terraces of Cos, but they are grown, of course, in many other places, as well. I thrust it in my mouth. then I gave my attention to the performance in progress between the tables, on a small, raised platform.
"Ho, varlets, craven churls, away!" cried lanky Petrucchio, drawing his great wooden sword form the preposterous sheath which dragged behind him. This took some time. "Away, away!" I say, he kept repeating, and at last had managed, bit by bit, yank by yank, to free the sword. he now waved it about, menacingly, seemingly almost as though it might decapitate anyone within a range of several feet. The three women seeming to cower behind him, covered from head to toe in robes of concealment, huddled together, ducking its great swings. Before Petrucchio, as though just having entered into the same area, the object of his attention, were Chino and Lecchio, in the garb of cloth workers, and with packs on their backs. "Back, even in your vast numbers, you warriors and foes," cried Petrucchio, grimly, "lest I slice you like roast tarsk, lest I shred you like tur-pah and peel you like suls!"
Chino and Lecchio, understood as two simple travelers on the road, come unexpectedly on Petrucchio and his companions, looked at one another, wonderingly.
"Avaunt, speedily!" cried Petrucchio, swinging the great sword again, the girls behind him ducking once more.
"But, good sir," called Chino, keeping his distance, "we are but two humble cloth workers!"
"Do not seek to deceive Petrucchio, captain of Turia!" cried Petrucchio. "To him your disguises, as brilliantly contrived as they may be to deceive others, are as flimsy and transparent as a veil of Anango!" The Petrucchio character, it might been noted, is commonly, in the northern hemisphere, portrayed as a captain from Turia, a city securely far away, off in the southern hemisphere. In the southern hemisphere, I have heard, he is usually presented as a captain from Ar. The important thing, apparently, is that he comes from a city which is large and impressive, and which tends to evoke a certain apprehension, or envy, and is far away. It is always easier to believe that folks far away are pretentious cowards. One has seldom met them in battle. Another advantage of choosing a distant city is that there are not likely to be citizens of that city in the audience, who might take exception to the performance, though, to be sure, most Goreans understand what is going on and tend to enjoy the farce immensely, even if the captain is supposed to be one of their own.
My own identity, incidentally, at least if one could believe my credentials, which had brought me into the feasting hall, was supposed to be of Turia. These credentials had been loaned to me by a fellow down whose throat I had stuffed enough Tassa powder to put a kailiauk under for several Ahn. To make sure I had also thrust him, tightly bound and effectively gagged, almost as perfectly as though he might have been a female slave, into a closet. He would presumably be found there tomorrow, or the day after, by a cleaning slave. The reference to a "veil of Anango," of course, was a reference to the veil in a well-known farce, "The Veil of Anango," performed by many companies. Indeed, it was one of the more frequently played items in the repertory of Boots's company. The leading character in it, or the female lead, is played by the Brigella character. That role now, of course, was played by Boots's slave, "Lady Telitsia." It was a reference which would be understood by Gorean audiences. Too, of course, in this context, it was supposed to convey that Petrucchio regarded himself as a very clever fellow, certainly not one to be easily fooled.
"You see our garb," protested Chino. "It is that of the cloth workers."
"Yes," insisted Lecchio.
"Hah!" cried Petrucchio, skeptically, but he rested the point of the great wooden sword on the platform, and, with one hand, beneath that long-nosed halfmask, he characteristically began to twirl one half of the huge, fearsome mustache.
"and here are our packs!" cried Chino, exhibiting the packs.
"Doubtless filled with weapons," surmised Petrucchio, twirling the fearsome mustache.
The girls in the robes of concealment, cowering behind Petrucchio, cried out in fear.
"Quiver not in such abject terror, my dears," said Petrucchio, reassuringly. "Indeed, it is not even necessary to shudder, unless it should please you to do so. Indeed, you may even breathe calmly, if that should be your wish, for as much as though you were safe in your beds within your stone keeps, protected each by the vigilance of a thousand valiant guards, you are safe here, nay, safer, though even on a public road, for here you stand within the walls of my steel."
"My hero!" cried the first girl.
"My hero!" cried the second.
"My hero!" cried the third.
Chino and Lecchio looked at one another.
Petrucchio then, twirling his mustache, turned confidentially to the audience. "In case it is not altogether clear what is going on here," he said, "I am Petrucchio, a captain from Turia, and have here, under my protection, three noble ladies, each of gentle birth and high station."
There was much laughter here. The girls, of course, as the audience well knew, would all be slaves. They were, after all, upon a stage. They were, of course, Rowena, Lady Telitsia and Bina. There were only men in the audience. To be sure, there was an empty place at the right hand of Belnar, the ubar of Brundisium. I had seen him only once before, in a royal box, set among the tiers at the baiting pit. He was a corpulent, greasy-looking fellow. On his left hand sat Flaminius, who seemed in a glum mood this evening. Also about them were various officers and officials. Two or three cushions down, on Belnar's left, was a fellow in the robes of the caste of players, Temenides, of Cos. It was interesting to me that a member of the caste of players should be seated at the first table, and particularly, in this city, one allied with Ar, one of Cos. To be sure, there tend to be few restrictions on the movements of players on Gor. They tend to travel about, on the whole, pretty much as they please. They tend to have free access almost everywhere, being welcomed, unquestioned, in most Gorean camps, villages, town and cities. In this respect, they tend to resemble musicians, who generally enjoy similar privileges. There is a saying on Gor, "No musician can be a stranger." This saying is sometimes, too, applied to members of the caste of players. The saying is somewhat difficult to translate into English, for in Gorean, as not in English, the same word is commonly used for both «stranger» and "enemy." When one understands that, of course, it is easier to understand the saying in its full meaning.
"Is it true that you are," inquired Chino, "as you suggested when first you called our attention to your perspicacity in penetrating disguises, Petrucchio?"
"Yes," said Petrucchio.
"Who is Petrucchio?" asked Lecchio. "I have never heard of him. Surely you have not either."
"The noble Petrucchio, the famed Petrucchio?" asked Chino.
"Chino," protested Lecchio.
"Shhh," said Chino, admonishing his companion.
"Yes," said Petrucchio.