Gor - Witness Of Gor Part 93

"You do not share our Home Stone," said the pit master. "You should not be armed in our city."

"We have the authorization of the administration," said the leader of the black-tunicked men.

"Who would disarm us?" asked the lieutenant.

"Stand back," said the leader of the black-tunicked men.

"I am reluctant to permit this," said the officer of Treve. "It is one thing, in the honor of a keeping, your papers in order, to surrender a prisoner. It is another to see this done within our walls. I fear lest the Home Stone be stained."

"Is it your intention to interfere?" inquired the leader of the blacktunicked men.

"It does not seem that I could," said the officer. "Such would seem to const.i.tute a betrayal of my post."

"It would, clearly," the leader of the strangers a.s.sured him.

The leader of the strangers then returned his attention to the peasant.

"Is it time for the planting?" asked the peasant.

"Perhaps you would have us put more chains on him first?" said the pit master, bitterly.

"That will not be necessary," said the leader of the black-tunicked men.

"You!" cried the pit master, addressing himself to the fellow called Gito. "He is not the one you know.

Tell the captain!"

"Where is my friend Gito?" asked the peasant.

"Here," said Gito, from back among those in the black tunics.

"Are you well, Gito?" asked the peasant.

"Yes," said Gito.

"I am pleased to hear this," said the peasant, approvingly, distantly.

"There is no doubt about it," said the lieutenant. "He remembers him.

He knows him."

"He should," said the leader of the strangers. "He once, on a hunting expedition, saved Gito from brigands who were torturing him. He took him, half dead, burned, defaced, into his own house, showered him with gifts, improved his fortunes, treated him as a kinsman. He loved few and trusted few, as he loved and trusted Gito."

Gito turned away.

"It is he, is it not?" said the lieutenant.

Gito covered his face with his hands.

"No!" said the pit master.

The lieutenant smiled.

The leader of the black-tunicked men then motioned the fellow with the sack to advance.

"No!" said the pit master, thrusting his own body between the knife and the peasant.

The leader of the black-tunicked men looked to the officer of Treve.

"Order this obtuse brute to stand aside," he said.

"Stand aside," said the officer of Treve.

"No!" said the pit master.

"He is armed!" said the lieutenant.

The pit master, from within his tunic, had drawn forth the stiletto which I had seen yesterday in his quarters, that which he had concealed beneath papers.

The leader of the black-tunicked men stepped back, carefully, slowly, not taking his eyes from the pit master. He made no quick moves. When he was a few feet back he stopped. He then transferred the dagger he carried to his left hand and drew his sword with his right. It left the sheath almost soundlessly.

It was a typical blade of this world, small and wicked. Such blades are favored by those who prefer to work close to their men. They are also designed in such a way that they may, by a skillful swordsman, in virtue of their lightness, speed and flexibility, be worked within the guard of longer, heavier weapons.

Their design is such, in short, as to overreach shorter weapons and yet, in virtue of the weights involved, penetrate the defenses of less wieldy blades. The lieutenant had also drawn his weapon.

"Please stand aside," invited the leader of the strangers.

"Stand aside!" said the officer of Treve.

"No!" said the pit master.

Fina, amongst us, kneeling in the damp straw, bound, moaned. The pit master did not glance at her. His eyes were on the leader of the strangers.

"Bowmen," said the leader of the black-tunicked men. Two blacktunicked, helmeted fellows who had their bows set, quarrels ready within the guides, stepped forward.

"No!" screamed Fina.

"Do not lift your bows," said the officer of Treve.

"He is armed!" said the lieutenant.

From within his robes the officer had drawn forth a blade. It had apparently been slung beneath his left arm. It had not been sheathed.

"The first man to lift a bow dies," said the officer of Treve.

"Why do you interfere?" inquired the leader of the strangers.

"It will take only a moment to kill them both," said the lieutenant.

"You are a captain," said the leader of the strangers to the officer of Treve. "You hold rank in this city.

Why would you defend this monster?"

"We share a Home Stone," said the officer.

"Is it time for the planting?" inquired the peasant.

"Yes!" suddenly cried the pit master, over his shoulder. "It is time for the planting!"

"You have been kind to me," said the peasant. "But I must now leave. It is time for the planting."

"You may not leave," said the pit master, speaking to the giant behind him, not taking his eyes from the leader of the strangers.

"I must," said the peasant, simply.

"They will not let you!" said the pit master. "These men will not let you!"

"I am sorry," said the peasant. "I must go."

"You cannot!" cried the pit master. "They will not let you!"

"Not let me?" said the peasant, dully, uncomprehendingly.

"No, they will not let you!" said the pit master.

"Look," said the lieutenant, amused. "He is getting up."

There was laughter from the helmeted men.

The peasant now stood. He looked down at the chains, from one side to the other, on his wrists, and ankles.

He pulled at them a little, not seeming to comprehend the impediment they imposed upon him.

"Free yourself!" said the lieutenant.

The peasant pulled against the chain on his left wrist. The links of the chain went straight, lifting the ring from the wall. He similarly tried the chain on this right wrist.

There was laughter from the men present.

"They mock you! They laugh at you! They will not let you do the planting!" said the pit master, not looking back.

"They are not my friends?" asked the peasant.

"No!" said the pit master. "They are not your friends! They would stop you from the planting."

"I must do the planting," he said.

"They will not let you!" cried the pit master.

Suddenly a strange, ugly, total, eerie transformation seemed to come over the gigantic body of the peasant.

"Free yourself!" taunted another man.

"He is growing angry," said another.

Suddenly the veins in the forehead of the giant seemed to swell with blood, like ropes under the skin. His eyes seemed suddenly inhuman, inflamed like those of a mad animal.

The men grew silent, uneasy.

He threw himself again and again against the chains. His wrists bled.

He uttered a low, terrible sound, not like anything even an animal might manage. More like something that might have sprung from the depths of the earth, a rumbling, as of a volcano.

There was an uneasy laugh from one of the helmeted men. The girls, kneeling in the straw, bound, neglected, to the side, I among them, were tense. We shrank back a little. Our knees moved in the straw.

It seemed we might be in the presence of a force of nature.

He strained against the chains, uttering terrible sounds, like no human.

"Ai," said a man, watching.

Then it was suddenly, oddly, as though he grew in stature, in power, and strength.

Doubtless it was an optical illusion, given the confinement of the cell, his now being upright, not sitting, his pulsing to his full stature, then bending down, like a bull, straining, muscles bulging, pulling outward.

Then straightening up, then again bending down, again pulling forward.

"He will tear his limbs from his body," said a man.

But I did not think the peasant, that violent giant, that simple, outraged behemoth of a man, in his present state of mind, in his agitation, in the singleness of his purpose, in this ferocious, puissant concentration of all of his force, his power, against iron and rock, was troubled by pain, or even capable of feeling it.

Again and again the chains drew against the rings. It seemed that a draft beast of enormous size could have exerted little more stress on that metal.

Some of the men then laughed.

But almost at the same time there was heard the slippage of a bolt, and we saw, on his left, our right, as we looked upon him, the plate to which the ring was attached, jerk outward an inch.

"Ai," said a man, in awe.

The men were then silent.

In the light I saw, on his right, our left. one of the links of chain stretch a little, bending. I do not know if others saw this; The links there could have been slipped apart, but the peasant took no note of this, rather he continued to force himself against the chain, the link bending more.

"I have never seen anything like this," said one of the black-tunicked men, in awe.

"He is amazingly strong," said another.

"The bolts are weak," said another.