Magicians of Gor by John Norman Read Free Book Online Page A

beacons
    serving to guide tarnsmen. The last time I had been to Ar, that time I had
    received the spurious message, to be delivered to Aemilianius, in Ar’s Station,
    there had been no need of yellow ostraka, or permits, to enter the city. Such
    devices, or precautions, had in the interim apparently been deemed necessary,
    doubtless for purposes of security or to control the number of refugees pouring
    into the city which, even earlier, had been considerable. Many had slept in the
    streets. I had rented, at that time, a room in the insula of streets. One
    permitted residence in Ar received the identificatory ostrakon, for example,
    citizens, ambassadors, resident aliens, trade agents, and such, was a function
    of heir owner’s possession of such ostraka. Others might enter the city on
    permits, usually for the day, commencing at dawn and concluding at sundown.
    Records were kept of visitors. A visitor whose permit had expired was the object
    of the search of guardsmen. Too, guardsmen might, at their option, request the
    presentation of either ostraka or permits. Ostaka were sometimes purchased
    illegally. Sometimes men killed for them. The nature of the ostraka, for
    example, taking different colors, being recoded, and so on.
    I saw some fellows gathered about a filled, greased wineskin. There was much
    laughter. I went over to watch. He who manages to balance on it for a given
    time, usually an Ehn, wins both the skin and its contents. One pays a tarsk bit
    for the chance to compete. It is extremely difficult, incidentally, to balance
    on such an object, not only because of the slickness of the skin, heavily coated
    with grease, but even more so because if its rotundity and unpredictable
    movements, the wine surging within in. “Aii!” cried a fellow flailing about and
    then spilling from its surface. There was much laughter. “Who is next?” called
    the owner of the skin. This sort of thing is a sport common at peasant
    festivals, incidentally, thought there, of course, usually far from a city,
    within the circle of the palisade, the competition is free, the skin and wine
    being donated by one fellow or another, usually as his gift to the festival to
    which all in one way or another contribute, for example, by the donations of
    produce, meat or firewood. At such festivals there are often various games, and
    contests and prizes. Archery is popular with the peasants and combats with the
    great staff. Sometimes there (pg. 37) is a choice of donated prizes for the
    victors. For example, a bolt of red cloth, a tethered verr or a slave. More than
    one urban girl, formerly a perfumed slave, sold into the countryside, who held
    herself above peasants, despising them for their supposed filth and stink, had
    found herself, kneeling and muchly roped, among such a set of prizes. And, to
    her chagrin, she is likely to find that she is not the first chosen.
    I was brushed by a fellow in the darkness. While I could still see him I checked
    my wallet. It was there, intact. The two usual modalities in which such folks
    work are to cut the strings of the wallet from the belt, carrying it away, or to
    slit the bottom of the wallet, allowing the contents to slip into their hand.
    Both actions require skill.
    I saw a line of five slave girls, kneeling, abreast, their hands tied behind
    their back. bits of meat were thrown to them, one after the other. A catch
    scored two points for the master. A missed piece might be sought by any of the
    girls, scrambling about, on their bellies. She who managed to obtain it received
    one point for her master. The girls were encouraged from the sidelines, not only
    by their masters but by the crowd as well, some of whom placed bets on the
    outcome.
    “Would you like to purchase a yellow ostrakon?” asked a fellow. I had hardly
    heard him. I looked about, regarding him. His hood was muchly pulled about his
    face. Were his offer genuine, I would indeed be eager to purchase such an
    object.
    “Such are