TALES OF GOR- #9

By Mara

(With great appreciation to John Norman for the rich world he created)

I moved the cool, wet cloth over his forehead and face, and his eyes fluttered open.

"Tal," I greeted him, with a slight smile.

He looked at me and tried to move. He found he couldn’t, and looked over his shoulder at his hands bound over his head, then down the length of his body to his bound feet. He again looked up at me.

"Tal," he acknowledged, in a raspy voice, before he again closed his eyes.

I smiled wider. No cursing, no threats, no begging? I felt I would like this man, perhaps it hadn’t been a mistake to drag his carcass out of the surf after all.

"Time to wake up," I said, and lightly slapped his cheeks.

His eyes opened to mere slits and I crouched beside him and lifted his head as I brought a water flask to his lips. I tilted the flask and slowly let the water run past his parched lips. He tried to raise up and gulp the water, but I forced him to drink slowly before lowering his head back to the bleached surface of the log where I’d tied him hand and foot. I stood back and eyed him with open appreciation.

Two days previously I’d traded my stifling robes for a simple rep cloth tunic and went off hunting in the forest. A dangerous practice to be sure, but I never felt so alive, so free, as when surrounded by the huge, and ancient trees. Their beauty and majesty more breath taking than any temple of Priest-Kings. I’d come to the shore of Thassa simply to amuse myself. Perhaps to collect shells and dig clams from the sand for my dinner. To my surprise, I’d stumbled on some wreckage from a ship....and what I at first took to be a body. It was indeed a body, an unconscious, but magnificent and quite alive body. My first impulse had been to leave him, he would no doubt be food for the crabs by nightfall. Let the caprices whims of fate decide if he lived or died. Alone in this wilderness a strange man would be a danger to me.He might be grateful for my help.....or he might not. I’d actually made my way a quarter pasang up the beach before I turned around. My conscience wouldn’t allow me to just leave him to die. If compassion was a weakness, it was one of mine. A woman’s weakness mostly, I thought with not some small disgust at my inability to do what was best for myself and just keep walking. I’d dragged him with some difficulty to the shade of the cliff where the smooth trunk of a tree had been tossed onto the shore by a storm, and securely bound him before I attempted to awaken him. Better safe than sorry, I thought as I’d double checked the ropes.

I again cradled his head, this time bringing a cup of broth I’d prepared to his mouth. Carefully feeding him the nourishment.

I laid his head back to the surface of the log, and for good measure again ran the cloth over his face and down inside the neck of his tunic. I rubbed the cloth over his chest, and on impulse, reached out and ran my other hand through the soft hair on his chest. I enjoyed the downy feel of his hair and the his hot, sleek skin, but when I glanced up I found him watching me with such menace and fury that I snatched my hands away and backed away before turning on my heel and hurrying off.

I came to a halt a short way down the beach, and took several deep breaths. What had I gotten myself into? I was going to have to release him sometime, and I had clearly angered him. I hoped there was some sense in that square head of his. Couldn’t he see I’d saved his life?

My original plan had been to see what bountiful Thassa offered up for my supper, so I set about gathering up clams and some of the seaweed I knew to be edible. By the time I had prepared and eaten my small feast I had come to a plan of sorts. I knew of a plant that induced sleep. I would prepare a dose and give it the man. He would go to sleep and I could release him and be on my way. Problem solved. I decided I would let him rest a bit, let the water and broth revive him, so I turned away to check out what goodies may have washed ashore from the wreck.

Two ahn later I delighted over my other find, a crate full of bottles containing rich, red ka-la-na. They’d been well packed in their wicker covered bottles and straw cushioning, so most had survived. I wouldn’t be able to carry many back, but I was thrilled with the find. I’d leave a couple where the man could easily find them, a parting gift of sorts.

I made the climb up the cliff and entered the cool forest to search out the herb I needed to induce sleep. It took a bit of hunting, but the forest finally offered up what I sought. I took only what I needed, careful not to disturb the other living things as I did so, then returned to the beach to prepare the potion.

After simmering the leaves and stems in a small pot I strained them through a bit of cloth and let it cool some before approaching the man. He was awake and watched me with narrowed eyes. Purely to amuse myself, I idly ran the flat of my spear gently down the side of his body and between his thighs. He tensed and gritted his teeth as I played the cool metal over him. I smiled and sit the spear aside, careful never to have it out of reach in this wild, unpredictable place, and put my hands flat on his chest, throwing my head back and breathing deeply with the pleasure of the feel of him. My nails scratched lightly at his flat nipples. He moved then, fighting the ropes that held his hands over his head and bound his ankles. I patiently waited for him to exhaust himself. Still weak from his ordeal, he subsided.

"Poor man," I purred, as I petted the length of him and he squirmed in fury, his body clearly at odds with his mind. I smiled, I knew the feeling myself, but at least I could hide it better than a man could. Having had my fun I laughed and picked up the potion I’d prepared.

"I want you to drink this," I said, deciding to tell him what I was up to and hope for his cooperation. It would be difficult, but not impossible, to get it down him if he didn’t allow it.

"It will induce sleep for a short time, you’ll be groggy but able to function for awhile after that," I promised. "You’ll be vulnerable for a bit, but I believe you’re safe here, and it will give me a chance to put some distance between us. You can follow the shoreline south and come to a fishing village in about thirty pasangs."

"You’re letting me go?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Oh, I’d keep you if I thought I easily could," I said with a wink and a laugh. "Seamen types are notoriously untamable."

His eyes were still narrow slits and his tense body spoke of his anger, but he studied my face, then looked at the cup and nodded. "All right, give it to me."

I brought the cup to his lips and he drank it down. He laid his head back and closed his eyes as I turned away to gather my few possessions. When I returned to him I stood quietly watching his even breathing then gave him a sharp poke in the ribs with my finger. He didn’t stir so I drew my knife and swiftly cut his bonds, cautiously backing way. I knew this stretch of beach and knew I could walk ten or so pasangs before I would be forced to enter the forest where the going was harder. The beach had it’s draw backs, you were in the open and easily spotted for one thing, but the forest for all it’s seeming concealment, offered little protection. The game trails where one could make ones way were stalked by predators, both two legged and four legged.

My pouch bulging with several ka-la-na bottles and my rolled furs over my shoulder, I set off down the beach, taking frequent looks back, as was my habit in the wilderness. I also kept a sharp eye for tracks or signs of humans. It seemed if any other seamen had survived the wreck, they had beached elsewhere.

I’d gone several pasangs when a glance back sent a chill to the pit of my stomach. He was there, following me and coming fast. The cliffs at this point were to steep to climb, my only hope was to get to a point where I could scale them and enter the forest. There I could hopefully elude him in its, tangled, living embrace. I ran as fast as I could, but the sand slowed me down considerably. Surely he had the same problem. He had to be weak from his dehydration and near drowning and stiff from being tied for hours, not to mention I’d dosed him with a sleeping potion. I spared a look back and to my distress saw he was gaining fast. His long powerful legs didn’t have as much trouble fighting the sand. Even in the best of circumstances I knew he’d be able to run me down. It was like one of those nightmares where you’re being chased and can only run in slow motion. I turned suddenly and hurled my pouch containing the ka-la-na bottles at him. Caught by surprise he tripped and sprawled face first into the sand. I kept running and gained some ground, but then I slipped. I only went down to one knee before I regained my footing, but I had lost my slim lead. Again I turned, this time throwing my rolled sleeping furs. He was looking for me to try something and merely swatted them aside with an impatient gesture. I had retained my spear, not wishing to risk a missed throw and lose it, but now that I tried to bring it into play he was too close and merely grabbed it behind the point. He lunged for me and pulled me down. I struggled fiercely against his hold. I fought to keep my legs between myself and him, knowing that even a small woman can do damage with a kick. I kicked wildly, the toes of my heavy sandals landing on his ribs and chest. I freed herself enough to bring up my left knee and kicked my foot down toward his head, my heel glanced off his jaw. He grunted with pain and released his hold. I scrambled up and tried to flee, but his hand closed on my ankle. He jerked my foot out from under me and sent me sprawling. He used the hold he had on my leg to unceremoniously drag me back to him. His full weight covered me and pressed me face down into the sand. He grabbed one of my flailing arms by the wrist and twisted it behind my back. The pain was excruciating and I gave in and lay quietly, hoping he’d ease off. He did but retained his hold. He easily flipped me to my back and pinned my hands beside my head. I could do little but squirm. Still I strained against his hold as he simply sat and watched me until exhaustion won out and I lay quietly and panted for breath. He smiled, and I closed my eyes in defeat.

I heard him spit and looked up. He switched both my wrist to one hand and wiped his mouth. Then I understood....aglar, he’d been chewing the leaves of the aglar bush, a powerful stimulant used by seamen and such when they had to stay alert for a tough passage or storms. It would have easily countered the effects of the sleeping potion I’d deliberately made weak. Such things were difficult to judge anyway, the strength of the plant varying from year to year, and even plant to plant. I’d clearly miscalculated.

He figured my cloth tunic. "I’ve never known a self respecting Panther Girl to wear anything but panther skins."

"Perhaps you’re an escaped slave?" he asked. When I didn’t answer he shifted back a bit and raised my tunic over my left thigh.

"No brand, I didn’t think I’d find one. A free woman out for sport?"

"Yes," I admitted, seeing no reason to lie. He’d clearly figured it out on his own.

He pulled my knife from my belt and I grasp, but he tossed it away into the surf.

He pushed my tunic up and over my breast then ran a lingering hand over my body before letting his weight down onto me. He adjusted his own tunic and his legs came between mine. I regretted having taunted this man, he clearly wanted revenge. My attempts to free myself, only seemed to aid him as his body took possession of mine. He raised to his elbows, taking some of the weight off my chest and letting me breathe easier as he watched my face, my expressions, as he settled himself completely into me. He moved, as if experimentally, adjusting his position until I gave a sudden gasp as he found my most sensitive places, He smiled, the first real one I’d seen from him, and began a rhythm that soon had me trying to press myself more against him, my body responding to him against my will, just as his had responded to me. He took his time, his pleasure drawn out and complete.

He rolled from me and stood. He looked me over with clear satisfaction as he adjusted his tunic and brushed off sand. I turned my face away and he laughed before turning to retrieve my possessions I had thrown or dropped in my flight. With sudden clarity I realized this might be my only chance at escape. I scrambled to my feet and started to run, but the instant I did I realized he would catch me well before I made even the base of the cliff. Instead, I veered off toward the sea and into it’s icy waters as he splashed in, not feet behind me. The chance of eluding him and surviving the sea were slim, but better even death than to not be free. Just as he grabbed for me, the bottom of the sea dropped sharply and I plunged downward out of his grasp. I’m not a good swimmer and the weight of my wet sandals seemed to pull me down. I struggled, but couldn’t reach the surface and I breathed in water. I choked and my limbs wouldn’t obey my commands to move. The world started to go black as I felt a sudden yank on my hair that floated like a streamer above me as I sank into the depths of Thassa. The next thing I remembered I was on the beach, coughing up water. My lungs finally cleared and I sank weakly to the sand. I felt my tunic ripped from me with one pull and heard it being ripped into binding strips. I was to weak and defeated to care as my hands were taken behind me and bound, then my ankles were crossed and tied. I lay in shivering misery, numb to the world. I barely noticed when my own sleeping furs were wrapped about me. Sometime later I felt a strong arm raise me up and the sweet, fruity smell of warm wine filled my nose as a cup of warmed ka-la-na was brought to my lips. I blinked, looking beyond the man to the fire he had built. I hadn’t been aware of the passage of time, or that he had made a fire. I let the wine into my mouth as he tilted the cup, and slowly fed me the warmth giving wine.

He laid me back into the sand and stood looking down at me.

"You’d chose death in the sea over me?" he mused as he rubbed his chin. "Not real flattering," he added with a slight smile.

He crouched beside me, wiping sand from my face.

"Those who know the sea, know she’s a jealous lover," he said, as he pulled the furs more tightly around me. "She seldom gives you back once she has you in her embrace."

He looked out over the vast, restless sea, his eyes distant. "No, she seldom gives back. It seems she’s kept my fellow seamen." He looked back at me again. "We’re both lucky to be alive."

He stood and turned back to the fire.

The wine was warm in my stomach and sleep called irresistibly. I drifted into oblivion. When I awoke, I found myself untied and the man no where in sight. The cloth binding was still wrapped around one wrist and a small carved wooden figure tucked into it. Curiously I pulled it from under the binding and examined it. It was a beautiful, fanciful figure with a woman’s body,but where there should have been legs there was a fish tail. I’d heard seaman often believed they’d seen such things. I turned it in my hand, and carved on the back were the words "Luck Favors the Foolish". I smiled. That did seem the case this time. I’d been foolish to save him, foolish to taunt him, and foolish to seek death. Truly a black wish, I thought, as I tilted my face to the sun and breathed deeply of the sea air. I had been lucky beyond belief. I was alive and it seemed he was letting me go. When I got back to civilization I decided I’d have a figure carved of a fine looking man with a fish tail. A matching set for even better luck. It seemed we had both had our share of luck of late, but you could never have too much, I reasoned. With a renewed spirit I stood to prepare for my journey home.

Mara
Marascribe@hotmail.com