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.I notedthe light hair on her forearms.She gasped for breath.Ibn Saran, magnanimously, gestured that she might rise, and she did so,standing before him, head high, breathing deeply.Ibn Saran looked at me.He smiled thinly. An interesting slave, he said. Would you care to bid upon her? I asked.Ibn Saran gestured to Suleiman.He acknowledged the courtesy. I would not bidagainst a guest in my house, he said. And I, said Ibn Saran,  would not feel it gracious to bid against the hostin whose house I find such welcome. In my Pleasure Gardens, smiled Suleiman,  I have twenty such women. Ah, said Ibn Saran, bowing. Seventy weights of dates for the stones, said Suleiman to me.The price wasfair, and good.In his way, he was being magnanimous with me.He had bargainedearlier, and had, in this, satisfied himself as a trader of the desert.It wasnow asSuleiman, Ubar and Pasha of Nine Wells, that he set his price.I had littledoubt it was firm.He had cut through much haggling.Had he been trulyinterested in bargaining and dates I suspected I would not have been permittedto deal with him at all, but one of his commissary officers. You have shown me hospitality. I said,  and I would be honored if SuleimanPasha would accept these unworthy stones for sixty weights.Had it not been for Ibn Saran, I suspected I would not have been admitted evento the presence of the Pasha of Nine Wells.He bowed.He called a scribe to him. Give this merchant in gems. said he, my note, stamped for eighty weights of dates.I bowed. Suleiman Pasha is most generous. I said.file:///F|/My%20Shared%20Folder/John%20Norm.%20Gor%2010%20-%20Tribesmen%20of%20Gor.html (100 of 353) [1/21/03 7:51:58 PM]10 Tribesmen of GorI heard a noise from afar, some shouting.I did not think either Ibn Saran orSuleiman heard it.Alyena stood on the scarlet tiles, head back, sweating, breathing heavily,nude save for her ornaments and collar, the bangles about her ankles andwrists, the armlets, the several chains and pendants looped about her neck.She brushed back her hair with her right hand.I now heard some more shouting.I heard, too, incongruous in the palace of thePasha of Nine Wells, from afar, the squealing of a kaiila. What is going on? asked Suleiman.He stood, robes swirling.Alyena looked about.Page 71ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlAt that instant, buffeting guards aside, sending them sprawling, to ouramazement, in the carved, turret-shaped portal of the great room, clawsscratching on the tiles, appeared a war kaiila, in full trappings, mounted bya veiled warrior in swirling burnoose.Guards rushed forward.His scimitarleapt from its sheath and they fell back, bleeding, reeling to the tiles.He thrust his scimitar hack in his sheath.He threw back his head and laughed,and then tore down the veil, that we might look on his face.He grinned at us. It is the bandit, Hassan! cried a guard.I drew my scimitar and stood between him and Suleiman.The kaiila pranced.The man uncoiled a long desert whip from his saddle. I come for a slave, he said.The long blade of the whip lashed forth.Alyena, her head back, cried out withpain.Four coils of the whip, biting into her, lashing, snapped tight abouther waist.He yanked her, stumbling, the prisoner of his whip, to the side of his kaiila.By the hair he yanked her across his saddle.He lifted his hand to us. Farewell! he cried. And my thanks! He then spunthe kaiila and, as guards swarmed after him, to our astonishment, leapt thekaiila, catlike, between pillers, through one of the great arched windows ofthe palace room.He struck a roof below, and then another roof, and then wasto the ground, racing away, men turning to look after him.I, and others, turned back from the window.On the cushions lay Suleiman,Pasha of Nine Wells.I ran to him.I saw Hamid, who was the lieutenant ofShakar, captain of the Aretai, slip swiftly behind hangings, a dagger,bloodied, held within his cloak.file:///F|/My%20Shared%20Folder/John%20Norm.%20Gor%2010%20-%20Tribesmen%20of%20Gor.html (101 of 353) [1/21/03 7:51:58 PM]10 Tribesmen of GorI turned Suleiman.His eyes were open. Who struck me? he said.There wasblood deep in the silk of the cushions.Ibn Saran drew forth his scimitar.He did not seem languid now.His eyesblazed.He seemed a silken panther, lithe, tensed for the spring.He pointed thescimitar at me. He! he cried. I saw it! He did it!I leaped to my feet. Kavar spy! cried Ibn Saran. Assassin!I spun about, facing steel on all sides. Cut him down! cried Ibn Saran, raising his scimitar.6 A Slave Girl TestifiesThe bodies of the two girls, stripped, lay on the narrow rectangles, networks,of knotted ropes, on the racks.The ropes, slung, were pressed down with theirweight.Their hands were at their sides, but ropes were attached to them, andfixed on the axle of the windlass, above their heads.Both wore collars.Theirankles were roped to the foot of the device.I knelt on the circle of accusation.My wrists were manacled behind my back.On my neck, hammered, was a heavy ring of iron, with two welded rings, one oneach side, to which chains were attached, these chains in the hands of guards.I was stripped.My ankles were chained. Cut him down! had cried Ibn Sarah, raising his scimitar. No! had said Shakar, captain of the Aretai, staying his arm. That would betoo easy.Smiling, Ibn Saran had sheathed his weapon.Ropes had been put upon me.I struggled in the chains.I was helpless. Let the testimony of slaves be taken, said the judge.The red-haired girl on the rack cried out in misery.The testimony of slaves,in aGorean court, is commonly taken under torture [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]