"Thank you," she said.
I smiled at her. It seemed so unlike Talena to express any consideration.
She walked about in the glade, pleased with herself, and twirled once or twice, delighted with the comparative freedom of movement she now enjoyed.
I picked some Ka-la-na fruit and opened one of the packages of rations. Talena returned and sat beside me on the grass. I shared the food with her.
"I'm sorry about your father," I said.
"He was a Ubar of Ubars," she said. She hesitated for a moment. "The life of a Ubar is uncertain." She gazed thoughtfully at the grass. "He must have known it would happen sometime."
"Did he speak to you about it?" I asked.
She tossed her head back and laughed. "Are you of Gor or not? I have never seen my father except on the days of public festivals. High Caste daughters in Ar are raised in the Walled Gardens, like flowers, until some highborn suitor, preferably a Ubar or Administrator, will, the bride price set by their fathers."
"You mean you never knew your father?" I asked.
"Is it different in your city, Warrior?"
"Yes," I said, remembering that in Ko-ro-ba, primitive though it was, the family was respected and maintained. I then wondered if that might be due to the influence of my father, whose Earth ways sometimes seemed at variance with the rude customs of Gor.
"I think I might like that," she said. Then she looked at me closely. "What is your city, Warrior?"
"Not Ar," I replied.
"May I ask your name?" she asked tactfully.
"I am Tarl."
"Is that a use-name?"
"No," I said, "it is my true name."
"Talena is my true name," she said. Of High Caste, `it was natural that she was above the common superstitions connected with revealing one's name. Then she asked suddenly, "You are Tarl Cabot of Ko-ro-ba, are you not?"
I failed to conceal my astonishment, and she laughed merrily. "I knew it," she said.
"How?" I asked.
"The ring," she said, pointing to the red metal band that encircled the second finger of my right hand. "It bears the crest of Cabot, Administrator of Ko-ro-ba, and you are the son, Tarl, whom the warriors of Ko-ra-ba were training in the arts of war."
"The spies of Ar are effective," I said.
"More effective than the Assassins of Ar," she said: "Pa-Kur, Ar's Master Assassin, was dispatched to kill you, but failed."
I recalled the attempt on my life in the cylinder of my father, an attempt that would have been successful except for the alertness of the Older Tarl.
"Ko-ro-ba is one of the few cities my father feared," said Talena, "because he realized it might someday be effective in organizing other cities against him. We of Ar thought they might be training you for this work, and so we decided to kill you." She stopped and looked at me, something of admiration in her eyes. "We never believed you would try for the Home Stone."
"How do you know all this?" I asked.
"The women of the Walled Gardens know whatever happens on Gor," she replied, and I sensed the intrigue, the spying and treachery that must ferment within the gardens. "I forced my slave girls to lie with soldiers, with merchants and builders, physicians and scribes," she said, "and I found out a great deal." I was dismayed at this — the cool, calculating exploitation of her girls by the daughter of the Ubar, merely to gain information.
"What if your slaves refused to do this for you?" I asked.
"I would whip them," said the daughter of the Ubar coldly.
I began to divide the rations I had taken from the pouches of the soldiers.
"What are you doing?" asked Talena.
"I am giving you half of the food," I said.
"But why?" she asked, her eyes apprehensive.
"Because I am leaving you," I said, shoving her share of the food toward her, also one of the water flasks. I then tossed her dagger on top of the pile. "You may want this," I said. "You may need it."
Fox the first time since she had learned of the fall of Marlenus, the daughter of the Ubar seemed stunned. Her eyes widened questioningly, but she read only resolve in my face.
I packed my gear and was ready to leave the glade. The girl rose and shouldered her small bag of rations. "I'm coming with you," she said. "And you cannot prevent me."
"Suppose I chain you to that tree," I suggested.
"And leave me for the soldiers?"
"Yes," I said.
"You will not do that," she said. "Why I do not know, but you will not do that."
"Perhaps I shall," I said.
"You are not like the other warriors of Ar," she said. "You are different."
"Do not follow me," I said.
"Alone," she said, "I will be eaten by animals or found by soldiers." She shuddered. "At best, I would be picked up by slavers and sold in the Street of Brands."
I knew that she spoke the truth or something much like it. A defenseless woman on the plains of Gor would not have much. chance.
"How can I trust you?" I asked, weakening.
"You can't," she admitted. "For I am of Ar and must remain your enemy."
"Then it is to my best interest to abandon you," I said.
"I can force you to take me," site said.
"How?" I asked.
"Like this," she responded, kneeling before me, lowering her head and lifting her arms, the wrists crossed. She laughed. "Now you must take me with you or slay me," she said, "and I know you cannot slay me."
I cursed her, for she took unfair advantage of the Warrior Codes of Gor.
"What is the submission of Talena, the daughter of the Ubar, worth?" I taunted.
"Nothing," she said. "But you must accept it or slay me."
Furious beyond reason, I saw in the grass the discarded slave bracelets, the hood and leading chains.
To Talena's indignation, I snapped the slave bracelets on her wrists, hooded her, and put her on a leading chain.
"If you would be a captive," I said, "you will be treated as a captive. I accept your submission, and I intend to enforce it."
I removed the dagger from her sash and placed it in my belt. Angrily I slung both bags of rations about her shoulders. Then I picked up the crossbow and left the glade, dragging after me, none too gently, the hooded, stumbling daughter of the Ubar. Beneath the hood, to my amazement, I heard her laugh.
Chapter 9
Kazrak of Port Kar
WE TRAVELED TOGETHER THROUGH THE night, making our way through the silvery yellow fields of Sa-Tarna, fugitives under the three moons of Gor. Soon after we had left the glade, to Talena's amusement, I had removed her hood and, a few minutes later, her leading chain and slave bracelets. As we crossed the grain fields, she explained to me the dangers we would most likely face, primarily from the beasts of the plains and from passing strangers. It is interesting, incidentally, that in the Gorean language, the word for stranger is the same as the word for enemy.
Talena seemed to be animated, as if excited beyond comprehension at her escape from the seclusion of the Walled Gardens and the role of the Ubar's daughter.
She was now a free though submitted person, at large on the plains of the empire. The wind shook her hair and tore at her gown, and she would throw back her head, exposing her throat and shoulders to its rough caress, drinking it in as though it were Ka-la-na wine. I sensed that with me, nominal captive though she was, she was freer than she had ever been before; she was like a naturally wild bird which has been raised in a cage and at last escapes from the confining wire bars. Somehow her happiness was contagious, and, almost as though we were not mortal enemies, we talked to one another and joked as we made our way across the plains.
I was heading, as nearly as I could determine, in the general direction of Ko-ro-ba. Surely Ar was out of the question. It would be death for us both. And, I supposed, a similar fate would await us in most Gorean cities.
Impaling the stranger is a not unusual form of hospitality on Gor. Moreover, owing to the almost universal hatred borne to the city of Ar by most Gorean cities, it would be imperative in any case to keep the identity of my fair companion a secret. Theoretically, given the seclusion of the High Caste women of Ar, their gilded confinement in the Walled Gardens, it should be reason ably easy to conceal her identity.