Notes of Muraders of Gor

Muraders of gor notes:

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Page 10

"Do not ask the stones or the trees how to live; they cannot

tell you; they do not have tongues; do not ask the wise man how to

live, for, if he knows, he will know he cannot tell you; if you would

learn how to live, do not ask the question; its answer is not in the

question but in the answer, which is not in words; do not ask how to

live, but, instead, proceed to do so."

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Page 59

There is plankton here," said Ivar, "that of the banks south of the

skerry of Einar, and the temperarutre of the water tells me that we are

now in the stream of Torvald, which moves eastward to the coast and

then north."

The stream of Torvald is a current, as a broad river in the sea,

pasangs wide, whose temperature is greater than that of the surrounding

water. Without it, much of Torvaldsland, bleak as it is, would be only

a forzen waste. Torvcliffs, inlets and mountasin. Its arable soil is

thin and found in patches. The size of the average farm is very small.

Good farms is often by sea, in small boats. Without the stream of

Tovald it would probably be I possible to raise cereal crops in

sufficient quantity to fee even its relatively sparse population.

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The board was of red and yellow squares. The Kaissa

of the men of Torvaldsland is quite similar to that of the south,

though certain of the pieces differ. There is, for example, not a Ubar

but a Jarl, as the most powerful piece. Moreover, there is no Ubara.

Instead, there is a piece called the Jarl's Woman, which is quite

powerful, more so than the southern Ubara. Instead of Tarnsmen, there

are two pieces called the Axes. The board has no Initiates, but there

are corresponding pieces called Rune-Priests. Similarly there are no

Scribes, but a piece, which moves identically, called the Singer. I

thought that Andreas of Tor, a friend, of the caste of Singers, might

have been pleased to learn that his caste was represented, and honored,

on the boards of the north. The Spearmen moved identically with the

southern Spearmen.

Page 62

 The Spring Equinox,

incidentally, is also used for the New Year by the Rune-Priests of the

North, who keep the calendars of Torvaldsland. They number years from

the time of Thor's gift of the stream of Torvald to Torvald,

legendary hero and founder of the northern fatherlands. In the

calendars of the Rune-Priests the year was 1,006.

Page 63

a coffle rope of the north,

about a half inch in thickness, of braided leather, cored with wire.

Page 67

The taking of the hall, in the Kaissa of the North, is

equivalent to the capture of the Home Stone in the south.

Page 71

"You will eat it," said the Forkbeard, "or you will be stripped and put

to the oar."

She looked at him with horror.

"That will not violate you, my pretty," said the Forkbeard.

In this punishment, the girl, clothed or unclothed, is bound tightly on

an oar, hands behind her, her head down, toward the blade. When the oar

lifts from the water she gasps for breath, only in another moment to be

submerged again. A recalcitrant girl may be kept on the oar for hours.

There is also, however, some danger in this, for sea sleen and the

white sharks of the north occasionally attempt to tear such a girl from

the oar. When food is low it is not unknown for the men of Torvaldsland

to use a bond-maid, if one is available on the ship, for bait in such a

manner. The least pleasing girl is always used. This practice, of

course, encourages bondmaids to vie vigorously to please their masters.

An Ahn on the oar is usually more than sufficient to make the coldest

and proudest of females an obedient, eager-to-please bondmaid. It is

regarded as second only to the five-lash Gorean slave whip, used also

in the south, and what among the men of Torvaldsland is called the whip

of the furs, in which the master, with his body, incontrovertibly

teaches the girl her slavery.

Page 93

The brand used by the Forkbeard, found

rather frequently in the north, consisted of a half circle, with, at

its right tip, adjoining it, a steep, diagonal line. The half circle is

about an inch and a quarter in width, and the diagonal line about an

inch and a quarterin height. The brand is, like many, symbolic. In the

north, the bond-maid is sometimes referred to as a woman whose belly

lies beneath the sword.

Page 94

"Sometimes," said he, "to discipline a bond-maid, she is hurled naked

among the thralls." He smiled. "Do not fear. Should this be done to you

I, in my turn, shall use you well Bond-maid. Quite well."

Page 96

mead of Torvaldsland, brewed from fermented honey, thick and sweet

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Page 98

I did not tell Ivar that those he knew as Kurii, or the beasts, were

actually specimens of an alien race, that they, or those in their

ships, were locked in war with PriestKings for the domination of two

worlds, Gor and the Earth. In these battles, unknown to most men, even

of Gor, from time to time, ships of the Kurii had been shattered and

fallen to the surface. It was the practice of Priest-Kings to destroy

the wrecks of such ships but, usually, at least, they did not attempt

to hunt and exterminate survivors. If the marooned Kurii abided by the

weapon and technology laws of Priest-Kings, they, like men, another

life form, were perrmitted to survive. The Kurii I knew were beasts of

fierce, terrible instincts, who regarded humans, and other beasts, as

food. Blood, as to the shark, was an agitant to their systems. They

were extremely powerful, and highly intelligent, though their

intellectual capacities, like those of humans, were far below those of

Priest-Kings. Fond of killing, and technologically advanced, they were,

in their way, worthy adversaries of Priest-Kings. Most lived in ships,

the steel wolves of space, their instincts bridled, to some extent, by

Ship Loyalty, Ship Law. It was thought that their own world had been

destroyed. This seemed plausible, when one considered their ferocity

and greed, and what might be its implementation in virtue of an

advanced technology. Their own world destroyed, the Kurii now wished

another.

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148

the female slave, knowing she is slave, finds it

stimulating to be exposed to the inspection of unknown men; do they

find her body pleasing; do they want it; is she desired; she sees their

looks, their pleasure; these things, for example, do they wish they

owned her, she finds gratifying; she is female; she is proud of her

allure, her beauty; further, she is stimulated by knowing that one of

these strange men might buy her, might own her, and that then she would

have to please him, and well; the eyes of a handsome free man and a

slave girl meet; she sees he wonders how she would be in the furs; he

sees that she, furtively, speculates on what it would be like to be

owned by him; she smiles, and, in her collar, hurries on; both receive

pleasure.

No

female is regarded as competent to judge a female's beauty; only a man,

it is said, can do that.

"No woman," it is said, "knows truly what she is until she

has worn the collar."

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He lifted his torch, to the sign over the door. "Do you not know that

sign?" he asked.

"I know what sign it must be," I said.

"What sign?" asked he.

"The sign, the name-sign, of Torvald."

"Yes," said he.

I shuddered.

"Torvald," I said to the Forkbeard, "is only a figure of legend. Each

country has its legendary heroes, its founders, its discoverers, its

mythic giants."

"This," said the Forkbeard, looking up at the sign, "is the chamber of

Torvald." He looked at me. "We have found it," he said.

"There is no Torvald," I said. "Torvald does not exist."

"This," said the Forkbeard, "is his chamber." His voice shook.

"Torvald," said he, "sleeps in the Torvaldsberg, and has done so for a

thousand years. He waits to be wakened. When his land needs him, he

shall awake. He shall then lead us in battle. Again he will lead the

men of the north."

"There is no Torvald," I said.

The Forkbeard looked within. "For a thousand years," he whispered, "has

he slept."

"Torvald does not exist," I said.

"We must waken him," said the Forkbeard.

"Where is Torvald?" cried out Ivar Forkbeard.

I shrugged.

"There is no Torvald," said the Forkbeard. "Torvald does not exist."

I made no attempt to answer the Forkbeard.

"The bones of Torvald," said the Forkbeard, "even the bones of Torvald

are not here."

"Torvald was a great captain," I said. "Perhaps he-was burned in his

ship, which you have told me was called Black Shark." I looked about.

"It is strange though," I said, "if that were the case, why this tomb

would have been built."

"This is not a tomb," said Ivar Forkbeard.

I regarded him.

"This is a sleeping chamber," he said. "There are no bones of animals

here, or of thralls, or urns, or the remains of foodstuffs, offerings."

He looked about. "Why," he asked me, "would Torvald have had carved in

the Torvaldsberg a sleeping chamber?"

"That men might come to the Torvaldsberg to waken him," I said.

Ivar Forkbeard looked at me.

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